"v:i5 mx BL 181 .P57 1867 Pirie, W. R. 1804-1885 Natural theology cL NATURAL THEOLOGY NATURAL THEOLOGY AN INQUIRY INTO THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF RELIGIOUS, MORAL, AND POLITICAL SCIENCE BY THE REV. W. R. PIRIE, D.D. PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY AND CHURCH HISTORY IN THI UNIVERSITY OF ABERDEEN, AND DEAN OF THE FACULTY OF THEOLOGY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS EDINBURGH AND LONDON MDCCCLXVII PREFACE. The true theory of religion, morals, and politics constitutes the grand question of the day. We have arrived at a period of human progress, in which mere authoritative or traditional belief is held comparatively as of little value. Education is so widely spread that the majority of men think more or less for themselves, and demand evidence for that which they are called on to believe. As in all cases of a great movement of the human mind, they consequently are led to appeal to first principles, and of course the most plausible, though it may be the most superficial theories, are in the first instance generally adopted. This, accordingly, is the case with respect to the sciences of religion, morals, and politics. The vast mass of mankind, while occasionally specu- lating with regard to them, have yet a sort of VI PREFACE. unconscious impression that we neither know, nor can know, anything definite about them whatever. Even the most intelligent thinkers are content with theories which either rest on assumptions of innate ideas, or which only imperfectly explain the phenomena. Under those circumstances, Eevelation has been left without any firm foundation on which to rest. So much is this the case, indeed, that many excellent persons assume its authority to depend exclusively on some sort of mysterious belief communicated directly by superhuman influence. Others take it for granted that the miracles re- corded in Eevelation must be true, and sufficient to sanction its authority, apart from natural religion ; though it is perfectly evident that this cannot be the case, as the very value of the testi- mony for those miracles must depend upon the moral character of the witnesses, and the object on account of which the miracles themselves were performed. No amount of testimony could he jpro- hative of miracles that were intended to sanction a scheme inconsistent with natural religion. Nay, the very words expressive of spiritual states used in a revelation must be interpreted by natural religion. The words " goodness," " justice," " mercy," and " truth," as well as the words " right," " wrong," " ought," " duty," and many PREFACE. Vll others, must be interpreted by natural religion, or we could attach no definite meaning to them at aU. Not only, therefore, would the evidences of Eevelation be uncertain, or rather baseless, apart from natural religion, but there could be no such sciences as those of morality and politics. It is unnecessary to dwell upon this, because that it is so will be fully proved afterwards. From these remarks it will be manifest that I publish this work under the conviction that the principles of natural religion have never been thoroughly vindicated. Hitherto, indeed, this has not been felt to be absolutely necessary. Until a very recent period the evidence of authority, com- bined with the half-conscious assurance involved in our feelings, seems in so far to have served the purpose. If anything be clear, however, it is clear that this state of things cannot last in the present age. Not merely infidelity, but gross materialism and pantheism are widely spread, and are rapidly spreading farther. Moral and political duties are beginning to be regarded, consequently, as without any obligation, and merely invented by influential parties to serve their own self-interested ends. Nor are these views merely put forward as specu- lative theories. They are unconsciously adopted by persons who know nothing about philosophical Vlll PREFACE. theories, and are practically affecting the character and conduct of immense masses of the people. It was under these impressions, which have been specially forced on me by circumstances, that I entered on the consideration of this subject, and it is under the same impressions that I now offer the result of my investigations to the public. It has been my object to reason out every step of the argument demonstratively, and with the utmost plainness. With the exception of one chapter, therefore (Preliminary Inquiries, chap, i.), I have avoided all approach to metaphysical speculation ; and even that chapter is not essential, having been introduced for the sake of those who may desire to examine more profoundly the primary principles on which my argument rests. I have endeavoured to state every particular, moreover, in such a way as may be universally intelligible. In this view I have carefully separated the argument for the moral attributes of God from those which prove His omnipotence and omniscience, these latter being necessarily proved in the evidence for the existence of an intelligent First Cause. A mixing up of the proofs for these two classes of attributes has greatly tended to confuse the argument and weaken the power of the evidence for both. I consider myself bound to add, that I believe PREFACE. IX the main argument to be perfect demonstration. Objections may no doubt be taken to the illus- trations, or to the incidental and practical infer- ences, but the argument for the being and attri- butes of God, and the moral and political prin- ciples flowing therefrom, seems to be as certain as any proposition of geometry, assuming that the laws of nature are to be trusted. If these are not to be trusted, of course there could be neither physical nor spiritual philosophy, nor truth of any kind. We have too many crude and half-true theories already on religion, morals, and politics. Had I not believed the argument, therefore, from beginning to end, both plain and logically irre- sistible, I should not have presumed to intrude it on public notice. I have published it under the conviction that it will conduce to the inte- rests of truth, specially with reference to the most important subject that can engage the attention of rational beings, by resting the faith of the religious world on foundations which cannot be shaken. CONTENTS. PAGE GENERAL INTRODUCTION, 1 PRELIMINARY INQUIRIES. CHAPTER I. SOURCES AND LIMITS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. No such thing as innate or intuitive ideas— Knowledge is pri- marily derived from feelings— Process— How knowledge may be derived from others— How knowledge may be derived from a comparison of effects produced by causes external to ourselves with effects produced by the operation of our own faculties— How knowledge is further implied in the desire of co-relatives capable of gratifying such desire— Universality of the conclusions of reason, 21 CHAPTER II. NATUEE AND DIVISIONS OF SPIRITUAL SCIENCE, Nature of spirit— Theory of materialism— Mode of studying spiritual science and its parts— Process under which we dis- cover the existence of spirits external to ourselves— Process under which we discover the relations in which these spirits stand to ourselves— Division of the spiritual sciences, . . 41 xii CONTENTS. PART I. SCIENCE OF RELIGION. INTRODUCTION. Universality of belief in higher spiritual existences— Outlines of the causes of this— Origin of polytheism— Relation of morality and politics to the belief in higher spuitual exist- ences — Universal expectation of a revelation — How this is to be accounted for, 53 CHAPTER I. ARGUMENT FEOM OUR SENSE OF WEAKNESS AND DEPENDENCE ; OR, A PRIORI ARGUMENT FOR THE EXISTENCE AND ATTRI- BUTES OF A GOD. Explanation of the nature of the argument a priori, as contra- distmguished from the argument a posteriori— Dovihi^ con- nected with a priori arguments as hitherto adduced — Proof that there must be an a priori argument of some kind, suffi- cient to convince every one of the existence of a Supreme Power, omnipotent, omniscient, true, just, benevolent, and eternal — Relation of this a priori with the a posteriori proof — Its character and limits indicated, ..... 69 CHAPTER 11. ARGUMENT FROM THE ARRANGEMENTS AND ORGANISATION OF THE UNIVERSE ; OR, A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR THE BEING AND NATURAL ATTRIBUTES OF A GOD. Our proof for the exercise of intelligent agency in contrivmg and constructing the universe, is precisely the same as our proof for the intelligent agency of our fellow-creatures in contriving and constriicting artificial arrangements — It con- sists in our assurance from the knowledge which we have of the nature of our own reason, that intelligence alone, or some equivalent attribute, is competent to contrive and con- struct adjusted arrangements — The possible eternity of the phenomena of nature does not aft'ect the question at issue — A possible power of development in the products of nature does not afi"ect the question at issue — This still further re- alised in the necessity of supposing that the elements of CONTENTS. xui things must have been endowed with the precise properties competent to work out the phenomena — According to the development theory, these properties must have been infi- nitely numerous, if not contradictory, in each molecule — These considerations obviate every form of difficulty which can possibly arise from the assumption of that theory, or of any other theory — Extent and application of the proof to the power, wisdom, and immutability of God — Summary of the argument, 79 CHAPTER III. ARGUMENT FOR THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OP GOD, Definition and character of morality — God cannot be an im- moral being — Proved from the position and relations of man to his fellow-creatures and his God — Objection arising from the rigour of God's justice obviated — No difficulty exists on the subject, except in so far as arises from the limited nature of the human faculties — Conclusion, . . . 109 CHAPTER IV. RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. God has created us for the purpose of seeking intense and per- manent happiness, through victory in the struggle betwixt selfishness and love — This consideration necessarily opens to us the prospect of an immortality — The voice of nature heard in those laws which assure us of an immortality — This im- mortality will be intensely and permanently happy to those who seek it in the way which nature indicates — Such happi- ness involved in trust in God— This trust imperfect or want- ing in all men under ordinary circumstances — Mode in which nature indicates that it is to be sought, .... 141 PAKT II. ETHICS, OR THE SCIENCE OF MORALS. INTRODUCTION. The theory of the relation betwixt God and man applied to human circumstances— Subject little understood— Definition of ethics— The various moral theories that have been pro- posed, and why unsatisfactory, 155 191 xiv CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. Difference in character betwixt the physical and moral laws of nature— Different kinds of happiness— We have in this a distinct indication of the mode in which our conduct should be regulated— In the struggle betwixt love and selfishness, selfishness conquers in the first instance- Process described —Power of habit and association— Only mode in wliich love can be generated— It must be stimulated and strengthened by the same means as selfishness is stimulated and strength- ened—The object caimot be attained apart from religion— This proves the truth of religion, even if it had no other proof, CHAPTEE II. NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS OF MORALITY, There is in all human beings a certain feeling of love for others —This the source of a high measure of happiness from the beginning, which grows greater and greater— Morality essen- tial to the existence of our race— This proved from our re- lations to one another, our sense of approbation and disap- probation, and our prospect of a future life— How a sense of religion operates on the human mind— The obligations of and motives to morality definitely stated, as discoverable from the preceding considerations— Mode imder which we discover right and wrong in each case— Mode in which we can realise right— Conclusion, . 208 CHAPTER III. DETAILS OF MORALITY. Recapitulation— Details of morality— Morality consists not in acts, but in intention and a state of mind— Illustrated— Categories under which the details of morality are compre- hended—Love of ourselves— Love of our fellow-creatures— Love of our God— There can be no sufficient motive or obli- gation to morality apart from religion— Nature of moral law according to this theory, and mode of its realisation — Effect of this realisation on character. . . . . . . 234 CONTENTS. XV PART III. SCIENCE OF POLITICS. INTRODUCTION. Definition of political science— Its origin— Its relation to moral science — It concerns conduct rather than states of mind — Necessity of governors for administering political law— No direct natural law entitling one man to rule over another, except the law of the stronger— No political rights, there- fore, under direct natural law— Misconceptions on the sub- ject, 273 CHAPTER I. NATURE AND FOUNDATION OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. Immediate sources of political power — In so far the words " right," "ought," and "duty" can have no place in political science — Theory of compact, as the foundation of political rights, untenable— Theory of a tacit admission of such compact untenable- Submission to a government does not necessarily imply a recognition of its authority — Utility of government does not necessarily imply a recognition of the rights of those that administer it in any particular case— Paley correct in resting political rights on "the wiE of God," but wrong in assuming "the will of God " to be col- lected from " expediency "— " The will of God " declared in the actually existing constitution of things— This theory explained and vindicated, 283 CHAPTER II. LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. Limits of political rights— They are limited by the moral rights of others, as of superior authority— Classification of moral rights as relating to governed and governors : 1. Right of personal liberty— 2. Rights of labour and property— 3. Right of political power, 309 XVI CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. SUMMARY OF THE PRINCIPLES ESTABLISHED IN THE PRECED- ING CHAPTERS, AND DEVELOPMENT OF POLITICAL SCIENCE AS FLOWING THEREFROM. Summary of the principles established in the preceding chap- ters — Governments arise from circumstances, so as to be more or less suitable to the progress of society — Tlais is a declaration of the will of God— Evils arising from a sudden change on the essential character of any government— Com- mon result of such changes, and the causes thereof— Further changes following on such result— Probable mode of restor- ing a government under such circumstances to working order— Illustrated in the case of Cromwell, and in the pre- sent proceedings of the French Empire— Liberty of the press —Class of persons in whom political power may be safely vested— Dangerous classes— Point of \aew in which political power ought to be regarded— Cause of misconceptions on this subject, S20 APPENDIX. A. Positive philosophy, 339 B. Theories of development, 349 C. Examples of extreme theories of political right, and argu- ment involved in them, 351 NATURAL THEOLOGY. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. No one who has anything like a just apprecia- tion of the nature of religion, can regret the objections which have been taken to it during recent years. Those who mourn over the propa- gation of infidel and rationalistic theories, cannot sufficiently know that religion must he everything, or it is worth nothing. Our belief, so far as it goes, must be clear, precise, and full, or it is a mere delusion. We do not indeed deny that at certain stages of human history, the evidence of authority and tradition may be suflicient to a greater or less extent. Siich evidence, combined with more strictly logical proof, may not only at such times satisfy the human mind, but may in reality constitute a much more trustworthy ground of belief than many people in their pride 2 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. of supposed intellectual superiority are apt to imagine. As, however, the energy of human thought de- velops in the progress of scientific discovery, it is impossible that difficulties should fail to suggest themselves with regard to a subject implying such profound and complicated considerations. It was clearly intended that it should be so. The evidences and truths of religion are so interwoven with other sciences, that they can only be appre- ciated in their fulness, as the philosophy of these sciences becomes more and more accurately known. Wherever a sudden impulse is given to general knowledge, difficulties will naturally arise with respect to Adews of religious science transmitted from former generations. Yet these will gradually become fewer and fewer. Sceptics, indeed, seem already to have reached their last possible objec- tion to Christianity on principle, and as the last, so also the most important, for ever}i;hing else, as we shall presently see, is dependent upon it. It is the conclusive battle-field, on which, if religion be victorious, there may be skirmishes on isolated and unimportant points ; but as to principles, the contest will be at an end, for no enemy can ever find another position of the same character which can be occupied against her.* * It is manifest that there can substantively be only two theories as to the constitution of the universe. It must either exist as it now is, by the very essential nature of material existence, or GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 3 The fact is, tliat the progress of science has done more to remove difficulties with respect to religion on the one hand, than to suggest them on the other ; and hence it is that sceptics have been driven back, till, as has been said, they have reached the only position which on principle it seems possible for them to occupy. That position is substantively Atheism. It is the doctrine that, in so far as we, at all events, have an opportu- nity of knowing, there is no personal Deity ; that nature is God, and God is nature. It might be supposed that multitudes would have eagerly pressed forward to oppose theories involving such a doctrine, which takes away from men all security for peace on earth, and all hopes of happiness in a world to come. But this was not the result. On the contrary, religious men turned away with disgust from even thinking on a philosophy from it must be the work of an intelligent Agent. No third supposi- tion appears possible. The one is the assumption of the Atheist, the other of the Theist. The question is therefore re- duced to a very narrow compass. If the one be true, the other must be false. It will be our object to show that the one is not only probably true, but is demonstrably certain. If we succeed, all dispute as to the principle is at an end. " There may," as is said in the text, "be skirmishes on isolated and unimportant points," but the only difference thereafter must be as to the mode in which these can be educed from the funda- mental fact. No doubt there is a vast number of apparently different theories upon the subject, the apparent differences arising from the use of metaphysical and frequently unin- telligible terms. But in reality they are all reducible to one or other of those stated. 4 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. whicli their intuitive feelings revolted. They regarded theories involving such a philosophy as unworthy of notice. To examine them was con- sidered as equivalent to giving tliem circulation, and was therefore counted mischievous, if not sinful. This notion was so intense and so widely spread, that even those who doubted its validity were intimidated from making the attempt. They were afraid of being charged with doing evil in- stead of good, and doubted the soundness of their own convictions when opposed to those of the great mass of the Christian world. The conse- quence was, that plausible arguments, left entirely unnoticed, began to ferment silently in men's minds, and especially in those of the young and thoughtless. In this way, under the form of in- sinuations, doubts, and conjectures, they acquired daily a wider circulation and more extended influ- ence. It was only through pressure from without that men ultimately awakened out of this most delusive dream, to find that a new generation had been growing up around them, amongst whom, in many instances, apathetic indifference had taken the place of religious zeal, and not unfrequently the very foundations of religion had been shaken. The contempt thus exhibited towards such theories had therefore been a grievous error from the beginning. It is quite true, as we shall by- and-by more particularly show, that there is an intuitive feeling compelling us to believe in a GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 5 God ; and that feeling will, of course, more or less retain its influence in all circumstances. But, as with respect to every other feeling, the conviction originating from it is vague and indefinite. To give it practical power by making it precise, it is absolutely necessary that its character should be logically determined, and its tendency logically ascertained. Consequently, if plausible objec- tions can be taken to the proof proposed without any reply being attempted, the result must of necessity be the generation of religious indiffer- ence and practical Atheism. This is by so much the more to be expected in the present age, because it is a mistake to suppose that those objections to religion which the almost exclusive prosecution of physical science during modern times has infused into the minds of a large mass of society, had been thoroughly antici- pated either by heathen or by Christian philo- sophers. On the contrary, heathen philosophers left even the general question most imperfectly argued ; and since the date of Christianity, the subject has been held in a great measure settled, and its details have been taken for granted. Until a recent period, consequently. Atheism has been almost unknown, except either under such gross or such subtilely metaphysical forms as to be incapable of doing any material evil. Latterly, however, this has been entirely changed. The rapid progress of physical science among all 6 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. classes of society, lias fixed men's minds almost exclusively on the operation of physical causes. Hence there has been generated during the pre- sent age a tendency to materialistic modes of thinking, such .as we believe was never known during any previous period of human history. Thus has arisen a sort of habitual, though often scarcely conscious, belief in the action of a series of causes and effects operating in a circle, under which the phenomena of the universe may be regarded as an eternal succession altogether away from an efficient Creator. We say phenomena, be- cause, according to this theory, phenomena are all that can be known ; though what may be the pre- cise meaning attached to the word phenomena in this case, or how much it may embrace, it is cer- tainly not very easy to ascertain. The absurdities of the theory, however, are kept out of view by its disciples ; and it is easy to understand how effec- tive, on minds unaccustomed to think on almost anything save material objects, would be a phi- losophy which taught that doctrines af&rming phenomena to be referable to the action of a God, were the products of an ignorant age, and in the enlightened nineteenth century were at once therefore to be repudiated. It followed, of course, that henceforth we are to trust exclu- sively to the information of our senses, and that those things consequently which we can see, hear, taste, touch, and smell, are to be the alone GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 7 foundations of our reasoning. With respect to the evidence of these, it is indicated that there can be no mistake.* Under this theory, not only is profound thought rendered unnecessary, but a mode is pointed out under which the grossest of men's desires and worldly passions may be gratified without ulti- mate danger or present shame. It is not wonder- ful that a philosophy so simple, and so well suited to the ordinary character of the human mind, should, when uncontradicted, propagate itself widely, and at the same time take a strong hold on the feelings of those who are induced to adopt it. In these circumstances, it is a blessing to society that Christians have been compelled to conquer their superstitious dislike of even exam- ining opinions which call in question the primary elements of religious truth. Such a line of pro- cedure prevented the possibility of obviating mis- conceptions arising from the changes which the progress of various sciences wrought out on the character and tendencies of human thought. As * This tendency is farther strengthened by the difficulty of reducing spiritual phenomena to their causes. It is a so much simpler method to assume an apparent though insufficient cause for phenomena than to trace the real cause, that we need not he astonished at men being seduced into adopting it. We shall find, however, that the true cause, when once discovered, is felt in all instances to be plain and unmistakable, and such is specially the case with the conclusions of a sound spiritual philosophy. 8 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. has been said, it was a complete mistake, origin- ating in a misunderstanding of the constitution of human nature, and the arrangements under which Providence has provided a means for gradually generating a full appreciation of the ways and wonders of Almighty God. The most minute and sedulous examination of any objection that can be proposed against religion, can never be dangerous to religion, because religion is the highest and purest truth, and her lustre is dimmed by every shadow of doubt which is allowed to rest on the entire and unhesitating faith which she demands. It is clearly, therefore, the duty of all who revere religion and appreciate its infinite importance for the welfare of the human race, to meet every ob- jection which may be taken to it, so far as this can be done effectually. But there is still an additional call on our efi'orts for this purpose. On the determination of the principles of religion, however little it may be understood, depends the validity of those obliga- tions which bind men together as members of society and portions of political combinations. Few, indeed, seem to have any notion of the length to which some of our most popular modern theories with respect to religion would lead us, because few seem to know the only solid founda- tion on which moral and political obligations can by possibility be rested. Apart from religion, it is demonstrable that the selfish theory is the only GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 9 foundation either of morals or politics, and it can imply no obligation. It may be said that even under this theory men would feel the necessity of allying themselves with each other, and of practically asserting relative duties, for the sake of their personal and selfish interests. But it must be remembered that dif- ferent people look upon their personal and self- ish interests under very different aspects, and that under such a theory it must be left to each in- dividual to determine what in each case he might deem most advisable for the promotion of his own interests. Granting, however, that the mass of intelligent men would feel the necessity of de- fending and assisting each other under ordinary circumstances, it is clear that the extent of the feeling must in every instance depend on the measure of advantages which the several parties might believe themselves to have realised in com- parison with others. The rich and the powerful no doubt would be zealous defenders of conser- vative principles, but it is absurd to suppose that the poor and the outcast would under any form of the selfish theory sympathise with them. They, on the contrary, would uphold the rights of phy- sical force and the justice of the equalisation of property, and they would naturally combine for the purpose of giving effect to their theory. We must satisfy the poor and the outcast, not merely that there is a higher law than the law of selfish- lO GENERAL INTRODUCTION. ness, but that they have it in their power to realise a far higher position, and a far greater happiness, than the utmost gratification of selfisli- ness will afford, or there can be no real security either for life or property.* The amount of secu- rity which we have for either the one or the other depends on the universality and degree of such a conviction, which no doubt prevails more or less among all classes, though its effect be materially impaired by the vague form under which it is too often entertained. The Atheistic philosophers are in fact indebted for their own safety to the silent operation of the very principles which they seem to be zealous in repudiating and denying. For all human beings, even the most degraded, have some respect for life and property while they have * There has been a most singular verification of this in the recent inquiry into the working of trades-unions, among which robbery, perjury, fire-raising, and murder have been system- atically practised. It is a natural and necessary consequence of men without religious principle having an opportunity of secretly combining for the purpose of resisting measures which they believe inconsistent with their own interests. Had these men been influenced by religious principle, nothing could have induced them to do such deeds ; but apart from religious jirin- ciple, they have acted a perfectly intelligible part, and we should like to know on what ground they can be condemned. They are strictly following the utilitarian theory, seeking what they believe the "greatest happiness of the greatest number." This investigation into the working of trades-unions began after this book had been substantively finished, but we felt called upon to refer to an event which not only illustrates, but practically demonstrates, the validity of its whole argument. How thoroughly it does so will appear from the sequel. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. II the most shadowy idea that they are under the guardianship of an omnipotent Lawgiver. But convince them theoretically that any other man has as much right to property as its actual pos- sessors, that there is just as little harm in taking the life of a man as of an ox or of a sheep, that no one has any authority, save from accident or force, to rule over his fellow-creatures, and as surely as human nature is human nature the theory will sooner or later be practically realised. It was for a few months nearly the theory of the French revolutionists, and the results, as is w^ell known, are recorded in letters of blood. It is the theory of all thieves, murderers, and traitors. The consequences will be exactly proportional as men are taught to approximate to the belief of such a theory ; and it wiU not be very difficult in so far to teach it, since it is a theory in some re- spects most pleasing to humanity, and is indeed, apart from religion, the only possible theory, as we shall subsequently endeavour more particu- larly to prove. We by no means deny that there are feelings of mutual relationship naturally existing in every human being. But experience demonstrates that these feelings will in a great measure be eradicated by that adoption of the selfish theory which results from doubt, and still more disbelief, of the moral attributes and moral superintendence of a God. Such feelings in that case can only act as motives 12 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. to the extent that they overbear the impulses of our personal interests and passions ; and how trifling this would be, and is, need not be farther illus- trated than by referring to the conduct of others, or even to the consciousness of our own minds. In fact, such feelings, apart from religion, merely constitute a form of selfishness, which practically has little or no influence when opposed to the gratification of our personal desires. This becomes still more entirely the case as men advance in life, because we have no encour- agement under the selfish theory to cherish rela- tive feelings. They therefore must gradually though necessarily die away, like every other ten- dency of the mind which is neglected, or rather crushed, under the operation of more powerful influences. Such, indisputably and obviously, would be the condition of the world, supposing the influence of religion to be destroyed, and such proportionally the condition of the world in so far as its influences are weakened or impaired. Let it not, however, be supposed that we figure this condition of things as deprecating discussion on subjects involving such tremendous conse- quences. Far otherwise; on the contrary, from the very importance of the subject, we hold that every objection to religion should be examined, and that every doubt with respect to its evidences should be removed. We simply desire to show GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 1 3 that there is no time to lose. Some of the opin- ions from the adoption of which such consequen- ces would necessarily follow, are already widely prevalent. It therefore becomes all who have anxiously considered the subject, and who believe that they can rest the principles of religious, moral, and political science on a more precise and unassailable foundation, to lend their aid. Men need not delude themselves by supposing that theories of natural law will restrain human pas- sions under any system of selfishness : unless moral and political duties rest on religion, they can have no foundation except such as even the most illiterate will discover the weakness of. It may, however, still be said that natural reli- gion would to some extent form a foundation on which moral and political obligations might be rested. This is true, although natural religion would never of itself afford motives sufficiently strong for the purpose of at all efficiently subduing our passions, or generating that trust in God which can alone constitute real and permanent happiness. But, in point of fact, this is not the question, as may be easily inferred from the previous part of our argument. The avowed attacks of sceptics have generally been made upon Christianity, from whatever cause ; but the attack in modern times is not on the charactei^istics, but on the foundations, of Christianity. The theories to which we have adverted do not therefore strike at Christianity as 14 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. a revelation, but as resting on natural religion. It is natural religion itself wliicli is assailed, as incapable of constituting a satisfactory ground on whicb any system can be reared.* For example, the assumption that miracles are impossible, or at all events incapable of proof, sweeps natural religion utterly away. The adjust- ment and arrangements of the universe constitute the greatest of miracles ; but if the adjustment and arrangements of the universe, as the produc- tions of an intelligent Being, be incapable of proof, then it follows that instead of being the creatures of an intelligent God, we may be the product of some natural law operating throughout eternity. Human beings, according to this theory, have had no beginning, and will have no end ; but this im- * I have recently heard it suggested as an objection to miracles, that the occasional interposition of the Supreme Being would interfere with the certainty of the conclusions of physical philo- sophy, because the interposition of the supreme power would thus render the operation of general laws uncertain. The objection is evidently absurd. It assumes the interventions of the Supreme Being as ivithout reason, or under reasons tvhich cannot he known or discovered. The intervention of the Supreme Being, if it take place at all, is a law of nature, and the occasions on which it will happen or may happen can be ascertained by means analogous to those used in other cases. It would be just as reasonable to say that the occasional interposition of human beings so as to prevent physical consequences which might otherwise occur, would interfere with the certainty of the conclusions of phj^sical philosophy. It would indeed be more reasonable, for the one interposition must be in conformity with perfect wisdom, while the other will usually imply more or less of caprice. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 1 5 mortality is not an immortality of individuals, but of race. The race may therefore never cease, but the individuals of whom it is composed, when they die to this world, perish for ever. Nor is this attack on the principles of natural religion merely incidental to such systems. It is of the very essence of them all, since if the pos- sibility of proving the truth of miracles be con- ceded, all the other objections which are proposed to Christianity become trifling and untenable. A sound theory of inspiration would supersede them so thoroughly, as to make those infidel and ration- alistic works which have acquired the widest cir- culation during recent years absolute defences of the evidences of Christianity. It is clear, therefore, that from the progress of science we have now got back to first principles. All attacks on the details of Christianity, or rather on its characteristics, have failed, apparently from their own inherent weakness, and would seem to be given up. Its excellence as a system, the purity of its precepts, the transcendent sublimity and effectiveness of its doctrines, are admitted. No Christian could describe them in more glowing terms than Strauss or Eenan. The infidel has been forced back to his last stronghold. Christ is recognised as the most perfect of human charac- ters, and Christianity as the most perfect system of spiritual science. It is now only maintained that Christianity cannot be proved to have come 1 6 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. from God, because we can have no satisfactory proof that there is a God* All that we know, or can know, according to the rationalistic theory, is the existence of an operating system of unchanging laws, by which all things were and are and will be regulated. It may be that in certain instances this is not avowed. It may even be that some rationalists are not themselves -|- thoroughly aware of all that is involved in their theory. But it is no less certain that through all rationalistic works such assumptions are imj)lied. The principle of the ultra-materialistic philosophy lies latent in every one of them. Here indeed we have the essential distinction betwixt Socinianism, which has now been almost universally abandoned, and Eationalism, by which it has been absorbed. Socinianism fully recognised natural religion, and attempted to reduce revelation to a form of it. Eationalism, on the contrary, denies the validity of the Christian evidences on the ground of their assuming the truth of natural religion, which it maintains more or less avowedly and explicitly to be itself incapable of proof * In the same way, if morality be obligatory ou all human beings, and essential for their happiness^ then the perfect morality of Scripture may prove its truth. But if morality be a mere incident in human relations, or depends purely o)i self- ishness, then, instead of proving the truth of Christianity, it would prove the very reverse. t There are still professing clergymen and others, who from their position dare not avow pure Eationalism, that maintain in its place a sort of spurious Socinianism. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 1/ It is to first principles, therefore, we repeat, that we must manifestly address ourselves, in order in any measure effectively to answer the rationalistic theories of modern times. Mere attempts at an- swering the incidental theories of rationalists, by which they undertake to trace the origin of Chris- tianity to natural causes, are useless; because, while the essential assumption of rationalism, flowing from its adoption of the most objection- able form of materialistic philosophy, remains un- touched, such attempts, however successful, still leave a painful sense of deficiency on the mind of the reader. He feels that there is something wanting which lies a great deal deeper than the clearest answer to such incidental and superficial theories can supply. He feels that a mistake as to the mode in which Christianity originated can be of no consequence, while a primary objection to the possibility of a revelation, founded on a denial of the possibility of the superhuman altogether, at at least as knowable by us, remains behind. Supposing, therefore, all the various modes in which it has been proposed to account for the ori- gin of Christianity from natural causes to have been refuted, it would only prove the conjectures of those who proposed them to have been wrong, but would leave the primary assumption, that a proof of any superhuman phenomenon is impos- sible, perfectly untouched. The doubt originat- ing in such an assumption would still inhere in B 1 8 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. the mind of tliose who had no sufficient means of ascertaining its groundlessness. The possibility of some other conjecture proving more satisfac- tory would still suggest itself, so that to a person harassed by such a form of scepticism no amount of evidence in favour of Christianity would be con- sidered decisive, or constitute a sufficient founda- tion for any approach to full assurance of faith. To meet that apathetic indifference to religion, therefore, with which a tendency to rationalistic opinions has imbued multitudes — of whom, how- ever, many know little about the matter, except that they dislike to think on spiritual subjects at all — we must evidently deal with principles ; we must show on sufficient grounds, stated in the plainest and most practical manner, what are the real evidences on which natural theology rests. Thus, as will now be manifest, can the system of God's moral government be in any measure clearly understood, and an assurance of his direct action on human affairs logically established. This be- ing done, it will be comparatively easy to deter- mine the fundamental principles of moral and political science, and to demonstrate the only possible manner in w^hich these sciences can in any proper sense be practically realised. Until aU this be done, moreover, we cannot be in a position to appreciate the full value of the Christian evidences. The conclusions derived from natural theology constitute, on the contrary. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 19 the very basis on which these evidences rest. When this basis has been thoroughly laid, the evidences of Christianity can be reared upon it in their strength. The nature and necessity of a revelation become manifest, because natural the- ology, though essential as a basis, is yet found to be only a basis, and consequently useless for any other purpose in itself PRELIMINARY INQUIRIES, CHAPTER I. SOURCES AND LIMITS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. NO SUCH THING AS INNATE OR INTUITIVE IDEAS— KNOWLEDGE IS PRIMARILY DERIVED FROM FEELINGS — PROCESS — HOW KNOW- LEDGE MAT BE DERIVED FROM OTHERS — HOW KNOWLEDGE MAY BE DERIVED FROM A COMPARISON OF EFFECTS PRO- DUCED BY CAUSES EXTERNAL TO OURSELVES WITH EFFECTS PRODUCED BY THE OPERATION OF OUR OWN FACULTIES — HOW KNOWLEDGE IS FURTHER IMPLIED IN THE DESIRE OF CO- RELATIVES CAPABLE OF GRATIFYING SUCH DESIRE — UNIVERSAL- ITY OF THE CONCLUSIONS OF REASON. Theologians have generally more or less rested our religious beliefs on certain elementary ideas which they assume to be born with us. These were formerly called innate ideas, but as it was found that the existence of such innate ideas could hardly be defended, they have subsequently reap- peared under the name of maxims and intuitions. These are manifestly the same thing under an- 22 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF other designation ; and so, in order to evade tlie difficulties involved in the assumption, recent German philosophers, and their followers in this country, have assigned to them the character of mysterious suggestions. With these, consequently, religion has become a sort of mysticism, but can rest on no precise evidence, nor exist in any pre- cise form as matter of intelligence. They there- fore repudiate the use of logic altogether in reli- gion, which they say depends upon a state of mind which they are pleased to call faith, re- sulting from those supposed mysterious intuitions which they have discovered or invented for the purpose. The theory is evidently nothing new. It is, indeed, as old as the human race, although never perhaps expressed in precisely the same words. It has been exemplified in the Pythago- reans among the Greeks of old ; in the Essenese Therapeutse of the Jews ; in the innumerable sects of visionaries among the Christians. It is the religion of imagination, where it is any religion at all, substituted in place of the religion of reason. Indeed, they sometimes call those mysterious suggestions reason, as if implying something greater and nobler than the mere understanding could discover ; and hence this reason becomes a very different thing from understanding, sanction- ing conclusions even which are often directly op- posed to those derived from the understanding. But although this theory be evidently untenable, HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 23 and would reduce faith to a mere matter of imagi- nation or caprice, differing in different individuals according to the special conditions of each ; yet we cannot believe, considering the multitudes practically influenced by it under some form or another, that it is devoid of every element of truth. This, indeed, is very far from being the case. For though there are neither innate ideas, nor intuitive ideas, nor mysterious suggestions, nor any other form of absolute notions existing in the human mind, there are unquestionably innate or intuitive feelings. * These are developed under the operation * Some philosophers, from an entire misconception on this subject, deny innate feelings as well as innate ideas. The the- ory is not only inconsistent with every man's experience, but necessarily leads to absurdity. They say that all our knowledge is derived from experience of external perceptions. But our helief in experience must itself have some foundation on which to rest. Experience of external perceptions, moreover, can only teach us what is past, and can never assure us of what is to come. It would teach us, therefore, that certain sequences of phenomena had occurred, but could not possiblj'- teach us that in future the same sequences would be invariable. There must be some innate feeling made known to us in its exact character by reason which compels us to believe this. That feeling is our personal sense both of physical and specially efficient power as the cause of every phenomenon. The nature of it is explained afterwards. But it signifies little what the nature of the feeling may be. It is sufficient that Ave are assured, as matter of certainty, that there must be such a feeling, be it what it may. This theory, that all our knowledge is derived from experience of external perceptions alone, and which constitutes pure scepticism as im- plying a disbelief not only in effects having causes, but even in mathematical axioms, has nearly run its course. The mass of mankind consider it rather as a subject for ridicule than for reasouino;. 24 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF of the faculty, or whatever it may he called, of rea- son or understanding. It is that faculty, and that faculty alone, which teaches us the proi^ortions and powers both of modes and existences. It is that faculty by which, in other words, we compare feelings, and thus are enabled to discover in how far they and their causes are ideyitical with or dif- erent from each other. It is that faculty, conse- quently, by which we hnow, as contradistinguished from feeling ; and hence, of course, our knowledge of the relations of things depends on its degree, and the degree in each specific case, in which it has been brought into operation. In the primary stage of its operations, there- fore, it gives us notions of the simplest kind. It teaches us the identities and differences of colours, and ,of the other feelings which are discovered by our senses. In the same way it teaches us the identities and differences of lines and figures, and all the other modes of the feelings that originate with our senses. Further, it gives us a knowledge of power as distinguished from the absence of power, so as to teach us the relation of cause and effect. Now, it is these and similar simple notions, result- ing from the primary operations of reason on our perceptions, and impressed upon our minds by continuous experience, so as that at length we can hardly tell whence they came, that philo- sophers have imagined to be innate, intuitive, or mysterious. But they are no such thing. HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 2^ They are, it will now be manifest, merely the knowledge which reason gives ns of the nature of our own feelings and faculties, and of the sim- plest relations of external qualities and modes, as they affect our feelings and faculties. The man who knows, for example, what is imyjlied in the feeling of equality, must also know the truth of the axiom, " Things equal to the same thing are equal to one another," because it is a mere expression of one characteristic of equality. For to argue that any one knows what is implied in the feeling of equality, and yet does not know its characteristics, is a contradiction in terms. The man who knows the feeling of power, again, in his own experience, must also know the truth of the axiom, " Every change must have a cause," inasmuch as we know from our feeling of power that it is power, and power onhj, which changes. Thus all knowledge is the result of our reason teaching us what is implied in our feelings, and in how far each feeling is identical with, or different from, every other feeling. That which we call our knowledge of external things is evi- dently a form of this. It arises from an inference, that the causes of certain feelings are to be found in objects external to ourselves. We are conscious of those causes which are within us, and reason, discriminating these from the only other causes of which we are cognisant, teaches us that they are without us. The whole process is so obvious, that 26 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF it hardly can be misunderstood. At the same time, it is not to be supposed that the mind is a mere tabula rasa, on which reason is to rear a purely intellectual superstructure, as if we were creatures of intelligence, and nothing else. This is an idea not uncommon amongst persons devoted to certain classes of studies, after they begin to discern that some of their earlier opinions were prejudices, resting merely on authority, and more or less un- founded. They are thus led to imagine that all their former principles are to be swept away, and the whole constitution of their mental characters to be changed, so that every notion shall be a mat- ter of rational deduction, to which no objection can be taken, and with respect to which no difficulty can be suggested.* They forget that reason must have foundations on which to rest ; and that * We have observed that when men thus throw off all belief in authority, they usually go to the opposite extreme, and despise all that they had been formerly taught, and all that the mass of their fellow- creatures believe. This strength of prejudice is owing to an unconscious fear that, after all, author- ity may be right and they themselves wrong. Hence such per- sons generally substitute the author of some plausible system in place of the belief of mankind, and, contriving to differ from him on some incidental or trifling particular, they delude them- selves into supposing that they are independent thinkers. Almost all of this class of thinkers, if thinkers they can be called, end for a time in the adoption of pure unadulterated scepticism, only modified by a love for disputation, which, of course, is necessarily inconsistent with the very essence of a system which can believe nothing, and therefore cannot con- sistently argue about anything. HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 2/ every one of these foundations must consist in a feeling or tendency implying belief, for which no cause can he assigned, except that such is the con- stitution of our natures, and that we cannot help more or less trusting in them. They forget that the very feelings or tendencies which thus exist as very parts of our beings, originate our preju- dices, which, while they may be partially erroneous as modified by circumstances, yet in every instance contain a certain admixture of truth, which can- not be swept away without undermining the foun- dations on which truth ultimately rests, and thus generating universal scepticism. They forget that trust in the authority of others is itself one of these tendencies which more or less regulates the beliefs of every human being, which is not in any case to be repudiated lightly, and which cannot, indeed, be eradicated without almost annihilating the use of reason, which, were it limited in its ex- ercise to facts within our own personal experience, could never carry us beyond the most elementary knowledge. We are not, therefore, when we come to years of discretion and to the capability of self- thought, to sweep away all our former opinions, and endeavour, on the mind as a tabula rasa, to rear a totally new superstructure. In such a case we are almost sure to fall into monstrous errors. We are to ascertain, not rashly but very cautiously, how much they involve as arising from natural tendency, which must to us be true, whether the 28 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF tendency of any individual mind, or the tendency of all minds, as realised by society at large ; and how much, on the contrary, is the resrdt of mere circumstances, which must be more or less tinc- tured with error, and therefore ought in so far to be rejected. We have thus a basis on which rea- son may rear its superstructure, and it is the only possible basis on which a firm and trustworthy superstructure can be reared. All knowledge, then, must primarily be derived from our feelings and tendencies ; or, in other words, from our own personal experience. Thence we have our primary facts, and thereafter rea- son teaches us what they respectively imply; or, in other words, enables us to know them. The more thoroughly we knovj what is implied in our feelings, the more thoroughly, of course, we also farther know their relations — that is to say, the extent to which they are identical with, or different from, other feelings, and the power, con- sequently, of the one to act upon the other. In the same way, the more thoroughly we know what is implied in external objects, the more thoroughly do we know also their relations, or the extent to which they, in like manner, are identical with, or different from, other objects, and the power, con- sequently, of the one to act upon the other. As we thus know feelings and objects in our own experience, we come to be in a position to receive information with resj^ect to other facts of the HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 29 same kind from our fellow -creatures. We say facts of the same kind, because we can form no conception of facts of which the kind or the ele- ments are not known from our own feelings. They alone can give us primary knowledge. No description could enable us to appreciate a pri- mary colour, or taste, or smell, or sound, or emo- tion, or any primary sensation or feeling what- ever. But we are quite capable of understanding a description of the combinations or relations of the facts, of which we have known the kinds or elements before, from our personal experience. The facts thus derived from the information of others thereafter become our own, and we can reason upon them just as well as upon those which our own experience may have made known to us. In other words, we can be assured that the thing which happened once, will, under the same circumstances, happen again, and may deter- mine the relative character of the facts with which others have made us acquainted, just as we would determine the relative character of those that we had discovered for ourselves. If, for example, they told us of a new species of soil, we could determine the species of plants for which such soil is most suitable ; or if they told us of a new species of metal, we could determine the uses to which it might be applied. There is, however, it will now be seen, a mode under which we may reason from the facts of our 30 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF own experience with perfect certainty, but can in no degree be assisted by the knowledge which other people can afford us. This is where we discover, from the nature of the feelings or faculties of our own minds, that a certain result can only be ex- plained under the operation of such feelings and faculties. If, for example, we find a living creature manifesting in its proceedings the remembrance of a past fact, as where a horse seeks to return to the place where it had been formerly fed, we in- fer that it has the faculty of memory. In other words, we identify in the horse the faculty which we know to be essential to the production of a similar result in ourselves. There is something in the very nature of the faculty, as felt in our- selves, which assures us that either the identical faculty, or at all events some cognate faculty, must exist in the horse likewise. This clearly j^roceeds from our experimental knowledge of the character of such faculty as discovered by reason, which teaches us what it can do, what it cannot do, and what it alone is competent to effect. This consideration, however, carries us a great deal farther, for it assures us that a knowledge of facts must, in so far as it extends, imply a know- ledge of their relations. Whatever fact, in other words, we know, must be known relatively, so that, from the very nature of the case, we must in so far know what it can do, and what it cannot do, and, as our knowledge becomes more perfect, what HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 3 1 it alone is capable of effecting. Except, indeed, in so far as we know our minds and their feelings, we cannot know anything in the strictest sense absolutely * We can only know external things relatively. We can only know sound, for example, in relation to our sense of hearing, and odours in relation to our sense of smelling, and so in all other cases. Hence, except in so far as we know external objects as relative to ourselves, in their actions on ourselves, we do not know them, and cannot know them at all. All our knowledge of such objects, in the first instance, is a knowledge * Our own feelings in their essence we know absolutely, though it be from internal experience. When we hear, we know what hearing is, apart from the sound heard, which we intuitively distinguish from it. When we see, we know what seeing is, apart from the object seen, which we intuitively dis- tinguish from it. When Ave remember, we know what memory is, as apart from the subject remembered, which we intuitively distinguish from it ; and so in all other cases. It is one of the grossest absurdities of modern speculation to say that, because we cannot know without experience, therefore the feeling which enables us to know, and the object or subject of that feeling, cannot be known as distinguished ! How such a theory could be admitted for a moment seems wonderful, since it is directly contrary to never-ceasing experience. The man who maintains that practically it is impossible to distinguish between the light which we see and the perception of sight by which we see it, seems too much confused by metaphysics to be capable of logi- cal argument. It is evidently the theory of a man who attends only to words, and altogether neglects realities. It is in fact a manifestation of that intellectual pedantry which grows out of the vanity of speculative knowledge, unchecked by knowledge of the world. Intellectual paradoxes, honestly maintained, are almost all referable to this condition of mind. 32 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF of tlie mode in which they act upon ourselves, and a distinct appreciation of this will be found greatly to simplify our ulterior inquiries. We thus dis- cover that a knowledge of their power — or, in other words, of what they can do, and cannot do, as this is discovered by our feelings and facul- ties — is all the knowledge of them which we can by possibility realise. The fact of our being able, however, even in thus far to appreciate the nature of objects exter- nal to ourselves, show^s that there is a connection between us and them subsisting under the very constitution of our minds. Hence it is that our feelings give us a sort of anticipatory expectation of their existence, enabling us to appreciate the origin of a series of beliefs, the nature of which has never been thoroughly explained, but which have a material bearing on our ordinary conduct in life, as well as on the philosophical development of spiritual truth. For it is evident that there must be a series of beliefs under which we are induced to act with a view to the gratification of our de- sires. No desire could of itself induce us to act, unless there were involved in it some sort of belief that there were means provided by which it could be gratified. Desire, apart from such belief, would be a mere feeling of pain ; each de- sire must therefore involve a farther feeling, how- ever generated, that it has a co-relative without us, suited for its gratification. Without this, as it HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 33 has been said, that which we call desire would not be desire, but a mere sense of suffering. This, of itself, would originate no effort of any kind. It might, no doubt, generate a physical action where the cause of the suffering exerted a physical power, but it would originate no voluntary efibrt. Yet a sense of suffering does, beyond all doubt, originate voluntary effort, from which it clearly follows, that a sense of suffering must in itself imply some be- lief in the possibility of a remedy. It is this belief which causes the infant to scream, or, at all events, it is for the purpose of procuring aid, which comes to the same thing, that nature urges it to scream, and to manifest other symptoms of suffering. Nature, in other words, teaches infants the signs by which their wants may be made known to those who have the means and inclination to relieve them. It is the same species of belief that impels us, at all stages of life, to seek relief when we are afflicted, under the irresistible impression that there are means of relief, if we could only procure them. Under such an influence, we appeal to our fellow-creatures, and if they cannot or will not aid us, we wpyeal to a higher power. Still, as has been said, in all cases of mere phy- sical suffering, our notions of co-relatives must in the first instance be exceedingly general. The infant, when it first feels hungry, must believe in the possibility of relief from some external remedy, c 34 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF or else it would not be compelled by nature to indicate its want; but it can have no notion of the precise nature of the co-relative by which its suffering is to be removed, or, in other words, its desire is to be gratified. The moment, however, that the precise co-relative is known, its apprecia- tion of the connection betwixt the desire and the gratification is complete ; and as, in advancing life, it discovers more and more accurately the nature and purpose of the desire, so does it learn to modify, according to circumstances, the form of the gratification. The constitution of these beliefs, how^ever, and the mode in which they tend to greater precision in ascertaining their co-relatives, is brought out with special clearness in the relationship of the sexes. It is a relation which only develops itself at a somewhat later period of life. Children of different sexes seem sensible of no other relation than that which unites them as human beings. But boys and girls, at an early age, begin to mark each other's distinguishing characteristics. In some instances, strangely enough, there seems a sort of repulsion betwixt them, from the difference of their tendencies. But no sooner do they begin to discover the nature of sexual difference, and the purpose on account of which it has been consti- tuted, than a feeling of their being co-relatives to one another is appreciated. They recognise each other by their feelings as parts of a whole, and HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 35 essential therefore to each other morally, mentally, and physically, for the full enjoyment of domestic and of social life. The same resnlt is perha^DS less precise!}^, but not less certainly, exemplified in res^oect to other relationships. Our sense of weakness and de- 23endence, which is forced upon us almost every instant by the lessons of continuous experience, necessarily generates the assurance of existences, external to ourselves, who can and will protect us, sustain us, and sympathise with us. We have thus in our personal feelings a sort of anticipa- tion of external intelligent existence, and involved therein a bond uniting us to those intelligent beings with whose existence we are made ac- quainted, which is stronger or weaker according to the measure of the relationship which nature has constituted betwixt us and them. In fact, in every primary desire there is an expectation involved that a co -relative essential to its gratification is provided; and in every instance, so far as our experience extends, this expectation is realised. How can we doubt that such must be the case ? Were it otherwise, our natures would be a delusion and a lie. They would urge us to seek co-relatives which either do not exist, or, at all events, are not attainable. Now this we cannot believe. Were it indeed possible, all belief would be at an end, since the information of nature is all we have to depend 2)6 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF upon for any of our beliefs ; and did she dec^eive lis in one case, we could have no confidence in her as to any other. What nature teaches, there- fore, we mttst accept as true. We cannot help it, since in all attempts at distrusting her we shall ultimately find that we have been mocking and deceiving ourselves. But if nature teach any one thing more certainly than another, it is, that every primary desire has its co-relative, through which alone it can be adequately gratified, and this teaching is found in the assurance involved in the very nature of our desires themselves.* This conclusion will be ascertained under yet another form in the determination of a particular which still remains to be considered. That par- ticular regards the extent to which rational de- duction is valid. Is reason, in other words, a universal principle, giving us valid conclusions with reference to everything to which it applies ; or does it only embrace those relations which we could discover by observation, though under a more circuitous process ? Thus, reason teaches us to believe in human testimony, and under that belief we repose confidence in those who testify to us as to the phenomena of astronomy. We our- selves, however, by acquiring a knowledge of astro- * This is trae not only of strictly primary desires as involved in our primary natures, but of every desire 7vhich necessarily flows from our primary natures, and must necessarily be com- mon, therefore, to the whole human race. HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 37 nomy, might take the observations and make the calculations essential for ascertaining snch phe- nomena, or for confirming their truth. Now, is it because this could be done, or because we think it could be done, that we repose confidence in the testimony of such parties ; or would w^e be justified in such confidence, supposing that they, as good and sufficient tuitnesses, professed that they had received their information, so far as they w^ere capable of judging, by a direct communication from Heaven ? Again, if we hear of certain beautifully organ- ised machinery in a distant land, we immediately conclude that it must have been contrived by minds possessed of the same kind of intelligence as our own. We ourselves, however, might per- haps ascertain the truth of this by visiting such lands. Now, is it because this might be done, or perhaps might be done, that we are justified in such a belief ; or would we be justified in the same belief supposing such machinery to have fallen, ready made, in so far as we could discover, from the sky, as being framed of materials of which we never heard before, and of a kind to which our world, so far as we know, contains nothing similar ? There cannot be a doubt upon the subject, as regarded in connection with these and similar illustrations. Our conclusions are determined from the very nature of reason, apart from all in- 38 SOURCES AND LIMITS OF cidental considerations. Eeason has nothing to do with any such considerations. If the evidence he liahle to no objection, it is equally valid with respect to all things, and that whether they he natural or superhuman.* It is a universal faculty, and if its legitimate conclusions rest on legitimate premises, they are universally true. We feel that this is the case in our knowledge of the nature of the faculty as realised in our own experience. No doubt, in arguing on effects as to which the causes or operating powers are beyond the reach of our observation, we can only conclude as to classes of causes, and not as to individuals. We can only, * We use the word superlmman rather than supernatural, because the latter word leads and has led to grievous miscon- ceptions. Nature is merely a short name for that which actu- ally occurs in the universe, whether through the operation of animate or inanimate existences. There can therefore be no supernatural existence. All is natural which exists. It is no interruption of the course oi nature, nor therefore su2Jer7iafu7'al, when a human being by his intervention modifies the action of causes, so that different effects are produced from those which inanimate existences would have produced had they been left alone. Neither is it supernatural, therefore, if a superlmman being in the same way modifies either effects or causes ; his'being superhuman by no means makes him supernatural. Super- human agency, on the contrary, is manifest in all parts of the universe, and at every moment. Eeason, therefore, must be per- petually engaged in observing it, and philosophising upon it. Miracles, as probative of a divine revelation, may have ceased. But miracles, in the sense of the action of superhuman power, are continuous everywhere around us, and, as Christians believe, within us. Whether this superhuman power be intelligent or non-intelligent, is just the question which we propose to de- termine. HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 39 in the case of machinery for instance, conclude that it has been contrived by an intelligence with- out specially determining the particular intelli- gence. But the conclusion is no less certain. It is attained, moreover, not merely from our experi- ence that, so far as we have observed, contrivance is the effect of intelligence exclusively, ivhich is the geneiml imj^ression, but from our own experimental knowledge of the nature of intelligence, which as- sures us that the contrivance implied in organised machinery cannot 'possibly originate in any other cause. It is thus not merely a probable, but to this extent a demonstrative, conclusion. Were it false, there would be implied not merely a miscon- ception of evidence, but a misconception of the nature of a faculty of our own minds, which is made known to us in our consciousness. There would be implied, in fact, a denial of the validity of the law of nature as a ground of belief. Wherever, therefore, we perfectly understand the nature of causes or powers, we can draw certain and universal conclusions as to what must be their effects ; and wherever we perfectly under- stand the nature of effects, we can draw certain and universal conclusions as to what must have been the causes or powers which produced them. It has indeed been argued that reason some- times contradicts itself, and consequently that its conclusions cannot in all cases be trusted. But the assumption is utterly false. Eeason never 40 SOURCES OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. does, and never can, contradict itself. In every instance where by different processes of reasoning seemingly opposite conclusions are attained — as in the case, for example, of philosophical necessity and human responsibility *— the phenomenon is owing to our ignorance of the facts on which, either in the one case or the other, the reasoning is founded. We reason, therefore, in such instances from false premises, and must attach the blame to our own ignorance, and not to the uncertainty of the faculty which we employ. The sources from which our knowledge can alone be acquired, and the limits by which such knowledge is bounded, being thus ascertained in so far as necessary for our purpose, we shall find the process greatly simplified under which are to be determined the fundamental principles of re- ligious, moral, and political science. * The difficulty connected with the subject of philosophical necessity arises from the unfounded assumption that motives act upon the human mind in the same way that physical force acts upon a physical machine. Yet if we would only endeavour to think with some accuracy, our own consciousness would satisfy us that this is not the case. Everij one has the conscious power of either yielding to motives, and thus acting under im- pulse ; or resisting them, and thus acting with a view to ulterior and more permanent happiness. The decision of the question is, however, of no importance to our present subject, as even if the doctrine of philosophical necessity were true, it would only constitute the stronger cause of leading us to appreciate the motives that must secure for us, by the assumption itself, the most intense and permanent happiness. CHAPTER II. NATURE AND DIVISIONS OF SPIRITUAL SCIENCE. NATURE OF SPIRIT — THEORY OF MATERIALISM — MODE OF STUDYING SPIRITUAL SCIENCE AND ITS PARTS — PROCESS UNDER WHICH WE DISCOVER THE EXISTENCE OF SPIRITS EXTERNAL TO OURSELVES — PROCESS UNDER WHICH WE DISCOVER THE RELATIONS IN WHICH THESE SPIRITS STAND TO OURSELVES— DIVISION OF THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES. Spirit is that which feels, thinks, remembers, reasons, or, in other words, which possesses the qualities that we attributed to the mind of man. It is usual to call this form of existence imma- terial, but this is only as compared with those qualities of physical matter with which we are made acquainted by means of our senses * This * Although we cannot form any definite idea of existence except under the character of matter, it by no means follows that there may not be existence of a different character. There may be spiritual existence altogether different, therefore, from any kind of material existence. As it is manifest from the text, however, that we can never positively determine any theory on the subject, because the nature of essence is beyond us, it follows that all discussion and disputes upon the subject must be mere metaphysical trifling. We have two classes of phenomena dif- 42 NATURE AND DIVISIONS OF limitation of tlie meaning of the word immaterial at once puts an end to tlie absurd discussions wMcli are so common with respect to what is called the theory of materialism, and which really originate, like many other disputes with respect to spiritual questions, in a mutual misconception of the sense of the term which is employed. For no one would assert that spiritual phenomena are hard, coloured, divisible, or possessed of any of the properties by which physical phenomena are characterised. Nor will it be maintained that physical qualities, under whatever form of ma- chinery they might be combined, could produce spiritual phenomena, so as that a physical mill could grind ideas, or a physical loom weave emo- tions. Physical machinery can only change the form of matter, but cannot produce results generi- cally different from the material subjected to its action. Thus, the brain as a machine might com- bine the rays which the optic nerve conveys to it, so as to give to them a new form, but could not constitute them thoughts, and still less generate through them desires or feelings with respect to other existences which are not involved in them, and which could only have originated in the brain ferent in kind, and therefore, so far as ive are concci-ncd, we must refer tliem to diiferent kinds of causes. It is of no consequence whether we regard the essence of mind and matter to be dif- ferent, or assume that there is only one essence, but endowed with qualities of perfectly different kinds. It is a mere dispute about words. SPIRITUAL SCIENCE. 43 by an utterly different process, unlike anything which the physical world exhibits to us* On the other hand, that spirit is not some kind of matter we hardly believe that any thinking man will venture positively to affirm. We do not indeed know what the essence of matter may be, or what qualities it may involve. There may be some kind of matter which thinks, feels, and desires. Indeed, the essence of matter and spirit, for any- thing we can tell, may be one and the same.f * I recently met with a materialist of the medical profession, who proposed a theory having the appearance of some plausi- bility. According to him, the ideas and emotions nsually at- tributed to mind are what he denominated the waste of the brain. This waste of the brain he regarded as analogous to the perspiration which violent bodily exercise causes. As a proof, he averred that after earnest thought particles of cerebral matter were found mixed up with the excretions of the body. But he evidently not only reasoned erroneously, but, admitting his facts, the conclusion should have been precisely the reverse of that which he drew from them, and constitutes indeed a most logical proof that the mind and the body are two different existences. For the cerebral particles are the waste analogous to perspira- tion produced by bodily exertion. According to the assump- tion, however, there is in the ideas and emotions another 'product to which there is nothing analogous produced hy hodily exercise. The phenomena, therefore, would prove that there are two actions in thought; viz., a physical action, consisting in the efforts of the brain, and a mental action, consisting in the efforts of the mind, the cerebral particles found in the excretions being the product of the one, and ideas and emotions the product of the other. Assuming the facts to be true, the argument is conse- quently destructive of the theory of materialism under a form of reasoning which it does not seem possible to gainsay. + The absurdities which we sometimes read or hear under the use of such phrases as "educating the brain," or "educating 44 NATURE AND DIVISIONS OF There seems to be no impossibility involved in sncli a supposition. Nay, to conceive existence, wliich in some sense of tlie word is not material, seems, to say the least, exceedingly difficult. It is like conceiving an existence, which to us, at all events, would be nothing at all. What the essence of spirit may be, is, however, of no practical im- portance whatever. . We know all that we need to know for our purpose when we know its quali- ties as contradistinguished from the qualities the spinal marrow and the nerves," arise from the very mis- apprehension here indicated. To educate the physical brain or physical spinal marrow and nerves, in the sense of educating the physical elements under the form in which our senses make us acquainted ivith them, is simpl}'- nonsense, and has no mean- ing at all. If these phrases have any meaning, it must be that the brain and spinal marrow and nerves have qualities distinct from their physical qualities, with which our percejytions do not make us acquainted. But under this assumption there is really no dispute at all, since we do not dispute that such spiritual qualities may be interwoven with the others. We do not pro- fess to know anything about the matter, nor have we the means of ascertaining whether the theory be true or false. "We have indeed heard it maintained that sensations are merely motions of the nerves, and that therefore feeling is merely a species of motion ; so that any moving body feels, though not so sensi- tively as nerves, whether a stick, or a stone, or a plant, or any- thing else. This is the legitimate fruits of materialism. Such notions, however, are not likely to do much harm. If those who profess to believe in them be asked how they know that there is such a thing as matter, they reply that they do not know it except relatively to their minds. If they be asked how they know that they have minds, they reply that their minds are merely the motions of matter. In other words, they do not know that there is either mind or matter. Curiously enough, the logical materialist must be a pure sceptic. SPIRITUAL SCIENCE. 45 whicli we know to exist in ordinary matter, and these we know, because we feel them in ourselves to be different from the ordinary qualities of matter. The same qualities we infer as existing in others, from observing them as manifested in the various phenomena of human life. We have no means, except from our observation of phenome- na, of knowing the existence of spirit out of our- selves ; because, be its essence what it may, it is, at all events, something so different from physical matter in its qualities, as to be perfectly inappre- ciable by the bodily senses, from which our know- ledge of physical matter is alone derived. Except in so far as we may be conscious of emotions spiritually relating us to other spirits, we can have no knowledge of their existence at all, unless from perceiving that the acts which they do are identical with those acts which our own spirits induce and enable us to accomplish. It is only, therefore, through our own conscious- ness in the first instance, and then through the exercise of our reason, that we can discover the qualities of spirit, or the various forms under which it appears to exist, or the relations in which these various forms of spirit stand to each other. This being premised, it will be obvious that the mode of studying spiritual must be precisely the same as the mode of studying physical science, mutatis mutandis. We have first to determine what 4.6 NATURE AND DIVISIONS OF are the qualities of spirit, and then ascertain the relations under \Adiich different forms or kinds of spirits are connected among themselves. To de- termine the qualities or powers of spirit is the busi- ness of intellectual philosophy. To determine the degree in which those qualities or powers exist in different spirits, and the relations under which they are connected among themselves, is the object of the higher sciences of religion, morals, and politics. That there are spiritual beings external to our- selves, is not denied by any one, in so far as our fellow-creatures are concerned. That there are others, or, at all events, that there must be one other, we shall prove, from the very same evidence under which we all helievc in the spiritual existence of our fellow-creatures. If we believe that our fel- low-creatures have spirits because we are conscious through perception of certain physical phenomena which they have organised, consistency compels us to attribute the far more complex phenomena of the universe, which in so far is exactly of the same kind, to spirits or a spirit of a proportion- ally higher order. ISTo doubt it might be argued that our belief from first to last on this subject is a mistake ; that our fellow-creatures have no in- telligent natures, inasmuch as we cannot see them, nor taste them, nor touch them, nor, in a word, perceive them by any of our senses ; that our fellow-creatures, as we call them, are therefore SPIRITUAL SCIENCE. 47 merely physical machines, without any intelli- gence whatever ; but no one could possibly believe it. Such an argument could not he 2^'^oved to he false. We could only reply to it, that it is utterly inconsistent with the teaching of reason, which compels us to attribute identical effects to identical causes or powers, more especially when we know what those causes or poAvers are, and thus know from our own consciousness that none other could have 2^'i^oduced such effects. It is just the same with regard to the pantheistic argument, as we shall by-and-by show more particularly, which attributes the organisation and arrange- ments of the universe to the inherent power of ma,tter. The universe no doubt involves a much more vast and complicated system of workman- ship than any machine made by human beings ; and thus the argument, as applied to it, admits of being more easily perplexed by appeals to irrele- vant considerations. But the phenomena in mode are precisely the same, and thus, if reason be a universal faculty, must be referred to causes or powers identical in kind, however much they may differ in degree. That, again, there are certain relations existing among spiritual beings, appears from the notorious fact, that human beings feel emotions allying them to other spirits. As a result, consequently, they indirectly act and react upon each other's spirits not only by precept and example, but through 48 NATURE AND DIVISIONS OF various forms of innate desires and sensibilities. There may, however, be higher spirits which can do much more than this, by acting immediately on other spirits through some species of direct in- fluence. There is no a "priori objection against such a supposition. Like everything else, the facts must be determined by evidence. The existence of such beings, and, if they exist, their relations to us, and their modes of operation, can only be ascertained by our own feelings and by their act- ings. Their actings, again, can only be known to us through experience, whether our own personal experience, or the experience of others, communi- cated to us in such a way as to satisfy us that their testimony is worthy of confidence. It has indeed been maintained that on such a subject we cannot receive testimony, because that which is superhuman is inconsistent with our own personal experience, which must to us constitute an evidence stronger than any testimony. But the absurdity of such an objection is manifest, from the very terms in which it is expressed * * Besides the argument in the text, which rests the proof on a special ground, it Avill be obvious that according to the argument recently indicated, and which will subsequently be illustrated at length, intelligent power, of which we have had no direct knowledge, is not only not inconsistent with our personal experience, but is every instant forced upon our personal experience, unless we he prepared to deny that our fellow-creatures are intelligent agents. We have exactly the same proof for the existence of superhuman, as we have for the existence of human intelligent agency. If we deny either, SPIRITUAL SCIENCE. 49 For if we have never witnessed the thing person- ally at all, it is self-evident that we can have no personal experience upon the suhject one way or another. There are thousands of phenomena of which we have had no personal experience, but which we believe firmly on the testimony of others. Probably, indeed, the greater proportion of our beliefs rest upon testimony. There is no- thing incredible which is possible. There is no- thing, therefore, which cannot be proved by testi- mony which can be proved by our own personal experience, provided we be capable of understand- ing the kind of the fact which is submitted to us. The evidence of testimony, it is true, may gener- ally be less satisfactory than the evidence of our feelings or our senses, but that is in consequence of its being generally more or less imperfect. Let such evidence be full and complete, and it is as satisfactory to our reason as personal observation is to our senses. From these remarks we can easily understand how, inthefirst instance, the higher spiritual sciences divide themselves. It is a division which in its general character is perfectly precise, although, as in all other sciences, the facts to a certain extent we must deny both. In one word, the use of the word siq^er- natural, we repeat, is a mistake. If powers superior to man, or superhuman powers, act under certain circumstances in human affairs, they must act under natural laws just as much as human beings do, Nature is a mere name for the arrange- ments of Providence. D 50 SPIRITUAL SCIENCE. run into eacli other, and could not be accurately appreciated apart. How this is the case, and how they serve to illustrate each other, will strik- ingly appear in their subsequent development. This division embraces three particulars : — 1. The relations in which human beings stand to higher orders of spiritual existences. This constitutes the subject of the science of religion. 2. The relations in which human beings stand to each other. This constitutes the subject of the science of morality. 3. The artificial arrangements and laws under which human beings endeavour to provide for the order and peace of society. This constitutes the subject of the science of politics. These particulars we shall consider in order. PART I. SCIENCE OF RELIGION SCIENCE OF RELIGION, INTRODUCTION. UNIVERSALITY OF BELIEF IN HIGHER SPIRITUAL EXISTENCES- OUTLINES OF THE CAUSES OF THIS— ORIGIN OF POLYTHEISM- RELATION OF MORALITY AND POLITICS TO THE BELIEF IN HIGHER SPIRITUAL EXISTENCES — UNIVERSAL EXPECTATION OF A REVELA- TION — HOW THIS IS TO BE ACCOUNTED FOR. To whatever part of the world we direct our attention, or to whatever class of society, we find, without any exception, that every individual has a more or less clear belief in the existence of spiritual beings of an order superior to the human race. In ancient times we find all nations re- cognising the existence of superhuman agencies. Indeed, neither in ancient nor in modern times, so far as we can discover, was there ever a tribe, however barbarous, that did not manifest some tendency to superstition, which is just religion misapprehended. The tendency may be very 54 SCIENCE OF RELIGION. slight, — SO much so, as to require considerable knowledge of tlieir habits and customs in order to appreciate it; but a minute investigation of these invariably ends in the same result. Some traces of worship are discovered, or at all events some fear of unknown causes as involving mys- terious powers. It thus seems indisputable that a belief in superhuman agency is of the very constitution of our natures, as occurring under circumstances which preclude the possibility of its being derived from the conclusions and con- jectures of a more cultivated intellect. Accord- ingly, the same belief is discovered under a similar investigation, even in the case of those who during more enlightened times profess scep- ticism. They cannot help themselves. Their feel- ings give the lie to their professions. We have investigated the matter with care, and we have never known a single exception to the general principle. Such persons are themselves invariably liable to the influence of that tendency, which in others they would regard as superstitious weak- ness. We remember specially the case of one gentle- man, with whom we were intimately acquainted, and whose opinions approached as nearly to pure scepticism as it was well possible to do. He had indeed been trained in scepticism. He was a man of great ability, extensive knowledge of the world, and occupied no humble position in society ; INTRODUCTION. 55 but a gay and busy life had precluded liim from cultivating logical thought, or making any serious effort at determining the grounds of that scepti- cism which he had adopted almost from child- hood. His scepticism was therefore absolute and unconditioned. He seemed to consider the super- human as essentially beyond the sphere of our cognisance, so that our very natures were incap- able of realising it. His cosmological theory, in one word, was pantheism of the most broad and unqualified character. Yet on the general prin- ciple we were not at all surprised that this same gentleman assured us in a moment of excite- ment, caused by family distress, that he had seen the ghost of a near and dear relative, who had died under circumstances which to him were of the most exquisitely painful description. His convic- tion of the reality of this phenomenon, seemingly so destructive of his philosophical theory, was full and strong. He exhibited, indeed, an irritability upon the subject very unusual with one whose man- ners were generally in the highest degree polished and tranquil. It appeared to us that he felt how inconsistent was his philosophical theory with the belief of his feelings. We mention this case par- ticularly, because it forms a striking example of the fact which we are illustrating, especially considering the uncompromising firmness and sound worldly judgment of the man. We have, however, known many cases of a similar character ; and indeed, as 56 SCIENCE OF RELIGION. has been said, we have never known a single excep- tion to the general principle, when we have had an opportunity of becoming intimately acquainted with the private history and inner feelings of the parties. The same seems to have been the experience of Sir Walter Scott. This appears from many por- tions of his writings, but there is one passage which bears so directly on the particular under consideration as to afford a summary of the whole. In his novel of ' Woodstock,' in speaking of the character of a sceptic of the Puritan age, he says, " In short, with the shadowy metaphy- sical exception aforesaid, Mr Joshua Bletson of Darlington, member for Little Creed, came as near the predicament of an atheist as it is perhaps possible for a man to do. But we say this with the necessary salvo : for vje have knoiun many like Bletson, whose curtains have been shrewdly shaken by superstition, though their fears were unsanctioned by any religious faith. The devils, we are assured, believe and tremble ; but on earth there are many who, in worse plight than the natural children of perdition, tremble without be- lieving, and fear even while they blaspheme." There is stiU another writer whose authority we would farther quote upon this subject, as less likely to be biassed by prejudice than even Sir Walter Scott. We allude to Lord Byron, who, in a work where his opinions seem to be put INTRODUCTION. 57 forth precisely as they arose, and with the most entire indifference to public feeling, expresses him- self in these terms : — ** Grim reader ! did you ever see a Ghost ? No ! But you have heard — I understand — he dumh ! And don't regret the time you may have lost, For you have got that pleasure still to come ; And do not think I mean to sneer at most Of these things, or hy ridicule benumb That source of the sublime and the mysterious ; For certain reasons my belief is serious. " Serious ? You laugh. You may, that will I not ; My smiles must be sincere, or not at all. I say I do believe a haunted spot Exists— and where ? That shall I not recall, Because I'd rather it should be forgot ; Shadows the soul of Richard may appal. In short, upon that subject I've some qualms very Like those of the philosopher of Malmesbury." ' Don Juan,' canto xv. stanzas 95, 96. " And therefore, mortals, cavil not at all — Believe ! If 'tis improbable, you must, And if it is impossible, you shall : 'Tis always best to take things upon trust. I do not speak profanely, to recall Those holier mysteries, which the wise and just Receive as gospel, and which grow more rooted. As aU truths must, the more they are disputed. " I merely mean to say what Johnson said, That in the course of some six thousand years, All nations have believed that from the dead A visitant at intervals appears ; And what is strangest upon this strange head, Is, that whatever bar the reason rears 'Gainst such belief, there's something stronger still In its behalf, let those deny who will. " 'Don Juan,' canto xvi. stanzas 6, 7. 58 SCIENCE OF RELIGION. These lines, though indicating, as in the case of the gentleman formerly mentioned, a contest of theory against feeling, yet exhibit a strong con- viction, and clearly prove the impossibility of any one, however reckless, being able to crush a sense of that evidence for the existence of superhuman power which is merely a superstitious form of belief in a God, and which, as will afterwards appear, results from the very constitution of the mind in connection with the circumstances under which we actually exist. There have, however, been not only individuals, but nations, as in the case of the French during their great Revolution, which in paroxysms of pas- sionate frenzy have denied this primary faith ; but they have found it impossible for any length of time to adhere to their theory, even in form. Nay, the very extravagance of the language in which it was expressed, and the violence with which these professing atheists assailed all who presumed to differ from them, gave undeniable proof of their unconscious and unwilling belief in the very doc- trine which they professed to repudiate. They thus showed a painful feeling that their theory was inconsistent with their real though unco]i- scious convictions. It is always so with those who allow themselves to assume such a position. Men persecute in proportion to the violence of their professed belief, as contrasted with the mea- sure of their unconscious douht of its validity. INTRODUCTION. 59 Under any other assumption, atheists could have no object in persecuting, nor even in affecting to underrate or depreciate, those who differ from them. It could do them no harm that others believe in a God, nor could they have any object in making converts, were it not that the opposite opinions of others press them with a sense of their own real convictions, and of the wicked- ness and danger of the theory which the excite- ment of passion had induced them temporarily to assert. The French atheists, however, could not long endure this war of conviction against pas- sion. In order to have something to worship, they deified a prostitute, who, after all, although they might be little aware of it, was really, like the Bacchus or Venus of the ancients, a symbol of that worthlessness and those worldly passions with which men, unacquainted with the true God, have in all ages clothed the superhuman power or powers in which nature compels them to be- lieve. But the symbol adopted by the French, or rather, perhaps we should say, by the offscourings of a Parisian mob, was too monstrous to be allowed for more than a moment to occupy its place. The Parisian Goddess of Pteason became an object of universal mockery. Such a manifestation of the idiotic atrocities into which selfish and sen- sual passions will hurry men, aided materially in strengthening that revulsion of feeling which had already begun. Accordingly, when EobesxDierre 60 SCIENCE OF RELIGION. induced tliem, a few weeks afterwards, formally and nationally once more to recognise the God of nature, liis decree seems to have been received willingly or rather joyfully by the great mass of the people, as the first step for bringing them back to a faith which they felt to be irresistible, inas- much as all their efforts, even during times of the wildest excitement, had not been able to extin- guish it. There never could have been a better oppor- tunity for testing such a theory, and yet it utterly failed. As if from a sort of reaction, the French from that time became infinitely more religious than they had been before the Eevolution began. Thus every consideration combines in proving that a belief in superhuman spirits exists under some form in every individual of our race, and that it cannot he eradicated. Nor could it be otherwise with respect to creatures such as we are, and placed in such circumstances. For we are conscious of a dependence on the assistance of others, which the qualities appertaining to our fellow-creatures do not enable them to afford, and we are conscious of a continual desire for security and happiness which the powers of our fellow- creatures do not enable them to gratify. On the other hand, we perceive an adjustment and order in the works of nature for which no material en- ergy can account, and a regularity in the ways of Providence which nothing save the assump- INTRODUCTION. 6l tion of a superliuman intelligent agency can explain. Hence originated that widespread belief which once existed, and which to some extent exists even now, in a plurality of gods. Men beheld an organisation and an energy displayed every- where around them, which mere matter could never of itself have generated, because we know enough of the nature of mere physical matter to be assured that it is incapable of any spontaneous energy. To each of these phenomena of activity, therefore, it was naturally enough supposed that a special spiritual power was attached, which originated its action, regulated its operations, and determined its practical relations with all beings and objects which came within the sphere of its influence. To each of these powers, again, a certain respect, worship, or reverence was paid by individuals to the extent to which each seemed capable of afiecting their interests. AVe say respect, reverence, or worship, because these, as offered to inferior beings, are all mere degrees of the same thing. Worship only differs in kind from, the others when offered to the Supreme Power, from whose decisions there is no appeal, and who acts in every instance throughout the universe according to His own good pleasure. Such was the origin of polytheism, which, how- ever wide a range of subordinate deities it em- braced, seems invariably to have recognised over 62 SCIENCE OF RELIGION. tliem all a supreme power under the name of Fate, or some similar term, more or less intelligent, al- thougli in many cases, it is true, such power was only recognised in the most shadowy form, rather as a feeling than anything else. It w^as only as intelligence progressed, that thinking men began to discover polytheism to be altogether destitute of evidence under even the purest form in which it could exist, and that in any form in which it actually did exist it was distinctly contrary to evidence. For though the existence of separate powers which preside over each law of nature or each phenomenon of the universe be without proof, it certainly is a possible theory, on the assumption that such powers derive their authority from the Supreme Spirit. But that polytheism, under any of the forms in which it has been actually found, is contrary to evidence, appears from its being invariably in some respect inconsistent with the attributes of the Supreme Being. There are in all instances mixed up with it forms of anthro- pomor23hism. The heathen deities, instead of being morally identical with the attributes which reason and providence teach us to ascribe to the Supreme Being, are found to be imbued with the grossest forms of human passions, ori- ginating in an abuse of that constitution which nature manifestly intended to be the guide and governor of our race. Had such beings really INTRODUCTION. 63 presided over the phenomena of nature, the result in a very short time must have been universal disorganisation and confusion. It seems to have been in the development of this argument that the relationship betwixt the science of religion, and those of morals and poli- tics, as branches of the same subject, became by degrees more and more appreciated. Experience showed what is in so far evident from the very nature of the case, that the moral nature of in- telligent beings must necessarily identify itself with the moral attributes of the deity which they respectively worship. From this appeared the pernicious consequence of men worshipping immoral gods. Hence, as we are compelled from the very constitution of our minds to believe in some form of deity, philosophers were led more carefully to inquire into the real character of the divine attributes. This was done by all the Greek philosophers, and especially by Plato, which accounts for the decided superiority of his religious and moral views. Thus it was that natural religion grew into a science, though still in certain respects complicated and imperfect. Theoretically, in so far it rested on logical proof which was absolutely unassailable. In its prac- tical working, however, there were difficulties and anomalies found connected wdth it, which it seemed impossible to obviate or reconcile. Speci- ally the moral attributes of the Supreme Being, as 64 SCIENCE OF RELIGION. generally discoverable from the feelings and sym- pathies of the human mind, as well as from the arrangements of providence, seemed inconsistent in certain particulars with the artificial conditions and circumstances of human society. For the moral laws of God, as logically deducible from the relations of intelligent beings, were violated syste- matically through the influence that selfishness had acquired over every other tendency of the human mind. As a consequence, much sorrow and suffering had resulted, and were resulting, while there seemed no means provided under which the balance of our moral constitution could be restored. The great primary relation of man, on which all the others depend, had indeed practically ceased to operate, for man had become alienated from his God, and put no trust in Him ; nor did there appear to be any instrumentality by which the creature and the Creator might be brought again into mutual communication, and restored to mu- tual confidence. This is manifest from the consid- eration that, while we w^ould be perfectly relieved from fear, did our deliverance from any danger depend on a relative or friend in whom we reposed confidence, we feel no such relief under ordinary circumstances from that trust wdiich we profess to repose in the Supreme Being. We can trust more truly in a comparative stranger among our fellow-creatures than in Him whom we pretend to INTRODUCTION. 6$ regard as the holy and benevolent God. The con- clusion does not admit of dispute. The relation connecting us with our fellow-creatures still con- tinues more or less in operation ; but that con- necting us with our God seems to have lost its power. Now, if there be such a relation — or, in other words, if there be a God — this must obvious- ly be a most unnatural and anomalous state of things, striking at the very foundations on which high and permanent happiness can alone be rested. A sense of this alienation from God necessarily tended in a great measure to obliterate the impres- sions which feeling and reason generate in favour of the immortality of the soul. Immortality does not even seem desirable to him who has no trust in the only Being that can bestow happiness here, or assure it hereafter. While, therefore, the evi- dences of natural religion were felt to be in so far irresistible in theory, the effect of them was counteracted by the doubts and uncertainties which complicate its practical working. Hence arose a conviction, which has been found universally to prevail, that the Deity would pro- bably intervene by some direct proof, under which such doubts and uncertainties would be removed. Men felt a want which there was apparently no provision in nature to supply. They had no assurance of what might happen to them even the next moment, and still less of what should happen to them through eternity. This, in its E 66 SCIENCE OF RELIGION. fulness, trust in God alone could afford; and nature gave them no sucli trust. As we have seen, the relation betwixt the creature and the Cr.eator had ceased to operate. Thus human beings were necessarily led to expect some reunion with God through a revela- tion; and the eagerness and intensity of the desire, as in all such cases, striving after its own gratifi- cation, generated from the beginning that mass of assumed revelations resting on traditions which overspread every portion of the world.* Where people had not a true revelation, in other words, they gradually invented a false one. The iden- tity of principle which in so far characterised all these varied forms, whether of supposed or of real revelations, amidst their innumerable diversities, flowed from the common belief in natural religion, which, to a oreater or less extent, must be realised by every human being. Natural religion must be the foundation of every form of revelation, for natural religion is the primary revelation which the Supreme Being has made known to His crea- tures in the very constitution of their minds. With this it is manifest that no subsequent and * That the expectation of a revelation may have been pri- marily derived from tradition is perfectly possible, but this of itself would not account for the universal belief in a revelation extending over all ages and countries. A felt necessity for some further information with respect to the relation betwixt God and man pressing itself even on the most uncultivated minds, can alone explain this extraordinary phenomenon. INTRODUCTION. 6/ supplementary revelation could be inconsistent ; and hence, had men retained the primary consti- tution of their minds in its purity, they would have possessed an infallible test of the authenti- city of any revelation. But be the cause what it may, men have become alienated from God, and thus their primary and intuitive feelings as to His nature have been modified. In this way their notions of the divine attributes necessarily took an anthropomorphic tendency. They confused the nature of God with the nature of man, and from this consideration we have an insight into the source of the main errors of false revelations. The false gods of each nation are distinguished by the peculiar tendencies which specially discriminate their respective worshippers. "While, therefore, revelations to this extent differ — for we say no- tliing of their mere historical theology, as of no importance whatever to our personal subject — they must yet all assume such primary truths of natural religion as the elementary reason is capable of deducing. A true revelation, therefore, may correct errors, and may add to the amount of knowledge which natural religion affords, but no true revelation can be inconsistent with natural religion. The doc- trines of a true revelation cannot even imply any- thing away from the precise end which the Su- preme Being seeks to realise in natural religion, since there can be no change in the purposes of 6S SCIENCE OF RELIGION. the immutable God. In this way, natural religion must, up to a certain point, be the interpreter OF EVERY TRUE REVELATION. The principles of true revelation must be explained by it, and the sense of the terms employed in revelation must in so far be defined and limited by it. There could otherwise, indeed, be no definite meaning attached to them at all. Having thus ascertained, in the first instance, what we have to do, and to a certain extent the mode in which our object is to be accomplished, we are directly brought to an investigation of the evidence for the existence and attributes of a God. CHAPTER I. ARGUMENT FROM OUR SENSE OF WEAKNESS AND DE- PENDENCE ; OR, A PRIORI ARGUMENT FOR THE EXISTENCE AND ATTRIBUTES OF A GOD. EXPLANATION OF THE NATURE OF THE ARGUMENT A PRIORI, AS CONTRADISTINGUISHED FROM THE ARGUMENT A POSTERIORI— DOUBTS CONNECTED WITH A PRIORI ARGUMENTS AS HITHERTO ADDUCED— PROOF THAT THERE MUST BE AN A PRIORI ARGUMENT OF SOME KIND, SUFFICIENT TO CONVINCE EVERY ONE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A SUPREME POWER, OMNIPOTENT, OMNISCIENT, TRUE, JUST, BENEVOLENT, AND ETERNAL — RELATION OF THIS A PRIORI WITH THE A POSTERIORI PROOF — ITS CHARACTER AND LIMITS INDICATED. An argument a priori means an argument prior to experience, and arising from the constitution of the mind ; as an argument a posteriori means an argument derived from experience, and con- cluding from effects to causes. The argument a priori, therefore, assumes that there are feelings born with us, which constitute a direct relation- ship betwixt us and a Supreme Being, and would compel us to believe that there is a Supreme Being, even were there no proof that could be discovered from the arrangements of Providence. There 70 A PRIORI ARGUMENT FOR have been many such arguments proposed, most of them founding on what have been called innate ideas, or assumptions which are supposed to be intuitively known. Not a few of them have ex- hibited great ingenuity, and from their plausi- bility have commanded considerable attention for a time. But there is not one of them, not- withstanding their demonstrative form, which would appear to have produced permanent con- viction. Hence we never find any one appeal- ing to them as sufficient in themselves, which of course would have been the case had they been really demonstrative, but merely as a sort of supplementary proof, depending for its validity more or less on the conclusions of the argument from experience. Indeed, in more recent times these armmients a priori seem to be repudiated almost altogether. Nor is this wonderful, when we consider that innate ideas are by philosophers of the present age more and more decisively ignored. Accord- ingly, even Clarke's argument, which is by far the most ingenious of them all, is now rarely alluded to. This is not merely because it is too meta- physical, but because its very primary assump- tion, that Eternity and Infinity are modes of the existence of a being, is an assumption to which no accurate thinker nowadays would be pre- pared to give an unqualified assent. That intelli- gent beings are inclined to repudiate the notion of THE BEING OF A GOD. 7 1 time and space existing without any being exist- ing during the one or in the other, is probably true. That such a proposition, however, would involve an absolute contradiction, or indeed that any proposition would imply a contradiction, where the subject is expressed in words that involve considerations beyond the range of hu- man apprehension, will not, we presume, be main- tained. • No argument, therefore, can be valid which founds on innate ideas, or which embraces con- siderations so entirely beyond the range of human apprehension that we cannot positively be assured whether they be true or false. Yet we have no hesitation in saying that there is an argument a yriori for the existence and attributes of a God, which is involved in the very nature of our feel- ings, and which therefore tells upon the faith of the whole human race, even when they are alto- gether ignorant of it logically, as existing in the form of a proposition. It makes no appeal, how- ever, to profound metaphysical speculations, and is consequently plain and intelligible to any one capable of exercising reason at all. It rests on the principle which both our feelings and our experience demonstrate to be true, that every primary and essential desire of the human mind has a co-relative — or, in other words, a something to gratify it — existing in the nature of things. The mode in which the development of this 72 A PRIORI ARGUMENT FOR principle constitutes an argument a prio7'i for the existence and attributes of a God we now proceed to explain; and it would be difficult, we tliink, to conceive an argument more simple or more unanswerable. Every human being feels from the moment in which he comes into existence, and throuojh his whole subsequent history, that he is in himself a weak, helpless creature. As we have said, this feel- ing begins from the very beginning of our consci- ous existence. The appeals of the infant for aid are made continually. We do not indeed assert that the infant, in these more or less instinctive appeals, knows its own weakness and helplessness as a proposition. This is quite a different ques- tion, with which at present we have nothing to do. ISTo one, however, will dispute that it feels its own helplessness, nor will it be disputed that the appeals which it makes, if not conscious appeals, are, at all events, instinctive signs which nature has provided, in order that tlirough them its feel- ing may be made known to those on whom, in the first instance, nature has made it dependent. Accordingly, persons actually exist recognising this claim, and on whom nature has farther be- stowed the means and the inclination effectually to respond to it. As we advance to childhood, youth, and manhood, our sense of power gradually increases. We are conscious that under certain circumstances we can do something for ourselves. THE BEING OF A GOD. 73 Yet this capability, we are also conscious in its very exercise, does not depend on us for its contin- uance. We cannot preserve to ourselves fortune, health, or even life, for a single moment. Yet all these things we desire,* and desire with the ut- most earnestness, and desire as a primary tendency of our minds. We may not indeed always clothe such desire in words ; we may not put it into the form of a proposition ; but that it exists in every mind as a feeling, and practically operates upon every individual, is as certain as our existence itself, and is indeed manifest every moment in the efforts which we make to preserve these and all other forms of what we believe to involve happi- ness. In this desire, consequently, we have the voice of nature speaking, and commanding us to use * It is hardly necessary to say tliat when we speak of desires in this chapter, we mean primary desires implanted in us by the very constitution of our natures, or necessarily flowing from the constitution of our natures in the circumstances under which we are. The word, therefore, as thus employed, has no reference to mere wishes, accidentally or capriciously formed under artificial causes. I may wish or desire, in a certain sense, to see a golden mountain. Nature is under no obliga- tion to provide a co-relative for this. Our argument simply im- plies, that if nature has implanted in us certain desires by the very constitution of our minds, then nature must have pro- vided the suitable gratifications for such desires, or else she is deceiving us. Unless this be the case, we must, by the very constitution of our minds, be making continual efforts for pro- curing objects which it is imj^ossible that we can ever realise, because, by the su2)2>osition, they have no existence. 74 A PRIORI ARGUMENT FOR such efforts. Of ourselves we know that they would be insufficient. The results depend upon causes over which we have no control. Our own efforts, we are conscious, are only means which nature has appointed us to employ, but their success depends on circumstances altogether be- yond our power. It is, as has been said, the voice of nature telling us that each of our desires has a co-relative, through which it may be fully gratified by the use of the proper means. This co-relative, in the case of intense and permanent happiness, it is self-evident, can only be found in the existence of a God, omnipotent, omniscient, true, just, benevolent, and eternal, in whom wc rejpose entire confidence. N"o other assumption could by possibility satisfy our desire for the highest and permanent happiness now and for ever. For to realise thoroughly the argument, it is to be observed that our desire is for the highest and permanent happiness. It is not imperfect or temporary happiness merely which we desire, though we may be compelled to be content with this, if we cannot procure more. It is the high- est happiness possible for our natures, and that without end. ^o\N, if such happiness is to be attained at all, it can only be obtained through a God possessed of the attributes which we have enumerated. The moment we put full trust in that God, the object is accomplished. We can no longer fear THE BEING OF A GOD. 75 that any evil will overtake us, since no conceiv- able power could injure those who are under the protection of an omnipotent and omniscient God. The desire can have no other co-relative. Unless He were omnipotent, we could not be sure of His ability to bless us. Unless He were omniscient, He might be ignorant of our precise circumstances, or of the means by which our happiness was to be secured. Unless He were true, we could have no confidence in His promises. Unless He were just, we might doubt as to the impartial execution of His laws. Unless He were benevolent, we should fear lest His rigour might neutralise His mercy. Unless He were eternal, our happiness must come to an end. Unless we trusted in Him, His attri- butes, whatever they might be, could be of no importance to us, because we could have no assur- ance that they applied to us. All this, it is manifest, does not merely imply a high probability. It is absolute certainty. The only possible reply to the argument must consist in a denial of the principles on which it rests. It must either be affirmed that men do not desire the highest and permanent happiness, which we all feel to be absurd, or that a primary desire does not involve the assurance of a co-relative, which amounts simply to an assertion that our natures deceive us. This is certain, because if it be con- ceded that all men desire intense and permanent happiness, and that in every primary desire there ^6 A PRIORI ARGUMENT FOR is implied an assurance of nature that a suitable co-relative to it exists, all doubt upon the sub- ject is at an end. If we are to believe nature, the conclusion is as certain as any demonstration of mathematics. There is a power omnipotent, omniscient, true, just, benevolent, and eternal, co-relative to the human desire for intense and permanent happiness, whence, therefore, such in- tense and permanent happiness is to be pro- cured, if we choose to comply with the means luhich have been provided for the purpose. We must use such means, of course, just as we must use the suitable means which nature has pro- vided for the purpose ere we can procure the adequate gratification of any other desire. It i^ indeed obvious that the exercise of inquiry and diligence in procuring the gratification of our desires, is the very object on account of which we have been placed in this world. So much is this the case, tliat through our whole lives we never are and never can he engaged ahout anything else. But if we do use the means which are provided, the gratification of our desires is procurable, or else our natures have deceived us ; and nature, in that case, is only another name for a deception and a lie. It may indeed be replied, that this argument would prove the lower animals to be also entitled to look forward to intense and permanent happi- ness. But the assumption is founded on a mis- THE BEING OF A GOD. 7/ conception. We know, indeed, that the lower animals desire present happiness, bnt we know nothing whatever about their ulterior expectations. This, however, is certain, that if the lower animals do desire intense and permanent happiness as involved in their primary feelings, then either means are provided for its gratification, or their natures are false and deceptive, and nature has created them so for the very purpose of deluding and deceiving them. There is no possibility of getting over the argument. It is simple and demonstrative ; and if it be untrue, no rational conclusion can be depended upon. Brief, clear, and demonstrative, however, as this argument seems to be, it is to be observed that the conclusion which it enables us to attain is exceed- ingly general, as indeed must be the case with re- spect to every demonstrative argument. It simply proves that, if nature speak the truth, there is a power existing and operating possessed of certain attributes co-relative to the universal desire of intense and permanent happiness in man. We can thus perfectly understand the origin of that universal belief in a supreme power which we have found to pervade all nations and tribes and individuals. It originates in a universal feeling, and therefore cannot be absolutely bid away. But as it is i\iQ feeling in which it originates, and not the argument derived therefrom, which is univer- sally appreciated, and forms the universal ground y^ A PRIORI ARGUMENT, ETC. of belief, so it is manifest tliat the mere feeling can never give ns a precise and definite conclu- sion; and lience we may fall into such errors in detail as almost to neutralise its practical import- ance. Yet even the argumentative conclusion, as we have said, is very general; and although, no doubt, if thoroughly understood, it would ob- viate gross errors in regard to the Deity, yet even in that case our notions of His attributes would be wanting in the perfect clearness and fulness which are so desirable with respect to a subject of such infinite importance. In order thoroughly to determine the nature and attributes of that power in which our sense of entire dependence compels us thus generally to believe, and to ascertain the modes of its operation, we must appeal to experience, so as thereby to discover the exact character of its dealings with the human race. This is called the argument a posteriori, with which it will be found that the argument a priori, as has been indicated, inter- weaves, and by which, indeed, it will be found that it is perfected. CHAPTER II. ARGUMENT FROM THE ARRANGEMENTS AND ORGANISA- TION OF THE UNIVERSE; OR, A POSTERIORI ARGU- MENT FOR THE BEING AND NATURAL ATTRIBUTES OF A GOD. OUR PROOF FOR THE EXERCISE OF INTELLIGENT AGENCY IN CONTRIV- ING AND CONSTRUCTING THE UNIVERSE, IS PRECISELY THE SAME AS OUR PROOF FOR THE INTELLIGENT AGENCY OF OUR FEL- LOW-CREATURES IN CONTRIVING AND CONSTRUCTING ARTIFICIAL ARRANGEMENTS — IT CONSISTS IN OUR ASSURANCE FROM THE KNOWLEDGE WHICH WE HAVE OF THE NATURE OF OUR OWN REA- SON, THAT INTELLIGENCE ALONE, OR SOME EQUIVALENT ATTRIBUTE, IS COMPETENT TO CONTRIVE AND CONSTRUCT ADJUSTED ARRANGE- MENTS — THE POSSIBLE ETERNITY OF THE PHENOMENA OF NATURE DOES NOT AFFECT THE QUESTION AT ISSUE — A POSSIBLE POWER OF DEVELOPMENT IN THE PRODUCTS OF NATURE DOES NOT AFFECT THE QUESTION AT ISSUE— THIS STILL FURTHER REALISED IN THE NECESSITY OF SUPPOSING THAT THE ELEMENTS OF THINGS MUST HAVE BEEN ENDOWED WITH THE PRECISE PROPERTIES COMPETENT TO WORK OUT THE PHENOMENA— ACCORDING TO THE DEVELOP- MENT THEORY, THESE PROPERTIES MUST HAVE BEEN INFINITELY NUMEROUS, IF NOT CONTRADICTORY, IN EACH MOLECULE— THESE CONSIDERATIONS OBVIATE EVERY FORM OF DIFFICULTY WHICH CAN POSSIBLY ARISE FROM THE ASSUMPTION OF THAT THEORY, OR OF ANY OTHER THEORY— EXTENT AND APPLICATION OF THE PROOF TO THE POWER, WISDOM, AND IMMUTABILITY OF GOD — SUMMARY OF THE ARGUMENT. We have now seen that a demonstrative proof of the existence of a Supreme Power, omoipotent. 80 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR omniscient, true, just, benevolent, and eternal, arises from the constitution of the human mind. We desire intense and permanent happiness, and we are perpetually struggling, from the beginning to the end of our lives, to realise it in the highest measure which our faculties enable us to attain. Kot for one single instant are we employed about ayiything else. If, therefore, in this ceaseless desire we have the voice of nature speaking and com- manding us thus to struggle in seeking such hap- piness, as lying within our reach, if our pursuit be conducted in a suitable spirit, and according to the proper manner — and it seems impossible that this can be denied — the conclusion is demonstrably certain. There must be a God with the attributes enumerated, on whom we can depend as a friend and a father. Under any other assumption the object cannot be attained, and therefore our na- tures must be a delusion and a lie. We can, however, arrive at the same conclusion under another equally demonstrative argument. The proof, indeed, is identically the same as that under ivhich vje believe our felloiu-creatures to be intelligent beings. The real foundation of the ar- gument from design has, we cannot help thinking, been misunderstood by theologians. Some of them have been content with assum- ing that, as matter of fact, organisation does im- ply design, and therefore have done nothing but accumulate instances of organised existences in THE BEING OF A GOD. 8 1 the universe. They have thus succeeded in prov- ing what no one disputes, but have really settled nothing ; since the question is not whether there are organised existences in the universe, but whe- ther these organised existences prove the being of a God.* Others of them have merely replied to the ob- jections of sceptics. They have proved that the explanations which sceptics have offered with reference to the origin of organised existences in the universe are unsatisfactory, but they have substituted nothing in their place. In this way matters have remained much as they were; all systems of atheism have been disproved, but we * There is a form of the argument for the existence of a God, however, which requires little more than an analysis of exist- ing phenomena, and which, though by no means neglected, yet does not appear to have been dwelt on to the extent that might have been expected by those who did not appreciate the precise nature of the principle which connects adjusted arrangements with the intelligence of a creating God. We refer to the phe- nomena of instinct. The knowledge implied in instinct is not, and cannot be, a deduction of reason, since it needs no experience. Unless, therefore, ^\e, suppose that instinct implies a peculiar species of intelligence, giving some of the lower animals a sort of prophetical knowledge in connection with inncde ideas, we must hold those phenomena which are the result of instinct to be generated under the direct action of a higher power, or, in other words, to be in a certain sense new creative arrangements, in which the animals themselves are merely the physical in- struments. There seems no other theory conceivable. The notion that mere physical desires and properties could of them- selves explain the phenomena of instinct, seems to be given up as altogether untenable. F 82 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR are still left to labour under the painful feeling that some other system may be proposed which cannot be disproved. A third class of theologians, however, for the praiseworthy purpose of supplying this deficiency, have argued that our belief in all organised exist- ences, being referable to intelligent causes, arises from the experience which we have of their origin in the doings of our fellow-creatures. So far as our experience extends, they say, all organised existences have been contrived by our fellow-crea- tures, whom we know to be intelligent. Hence they conclude — imder the principle universally conceded, that identical effects can only be pro- duced by identical causes — as a necessary conse- quence, that all organised existences have been contrived by intelligence. The argument, however, is false in its premises. We have no means of knowing that our fellow- creatures are intelligent, except hy inferring it from our observation of those very organised existences which ive know them to have constructed. We can- not discover the spiritual nature of our fellow- creatures a priori, as these parties seem to sup- pose. We cannot see it, nor hear it, nor smell it, nor taste it, nor touch it. We cannot, in other words, in any form perceive it. Nor can we be conscious of it. We can only discover it by inference. Accordingly, it is in this way alone that we are THE BEING OF A GOD. S^ assured of our fellow-creatures being intelligent agents. As has been said, we know no more of their spiritual natures a priori, by any act of per- ception or consciousness, than we do of the at- tributes of the supreme spiritual power that exists in and around us. We perceive, however, certain acts which our fellow-creatures do, identical with certain acts of our own, which vjc knoiv that the intelligent portion of our natures could alone have enabled us to contrive or to execute. We entertain no doubt upon the subject, and can entertain none, because we know from the constitution of our minds the relation betwixt design and intelli- gence, and are therefore not only assured from experience, but intuitively feel that the effect coidd he the result of intelligence, or some similar quality only. The grounds of this conclusion are manifest, and are precisely the same as those under which we infer the existence of a spiritual agency superior to man. There is not the slightest conceivable difference. We perceive certain phenomena, iden- tical with certain others resulting from our own intelligence, and which we know that our intelli- gence alone could have enabled us either to con- trive or to execute. We therefore conclude, not merely as a matter of experience, but from our rational knowledge of the nature of intelligence, that such phenomena could only have been con- trived and executed under the agency of an intel- 84 A rOSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR ligent being. There is not a single particular in the one case which is not identical with a corre- sponding particular in the other * It is indeed true that our fellow-creatures may tell us by words or signs that they exist, and that they possess the same tendencies, feelings, and faculties as ourselves. But words and signs are themselves only effects, and certainly not more convincing effects than actions, which are the most satisfactory of all signs. We should not be less convinced of the intelligence of a fellow-creature who contrived and executed an adjusted machine, because he did not tell us in words that he had contrived it and executed it under the guidance of his intelligent nature. On the contrary, so con- vinced are we of the instrumentality under which he had attained his purpose, through the know- ledge which we possess intuitively of the relation betwixt adjustment and intelligence, that we should never think of putting a question to him on the subject. It has been said, however, and said by one of an extremely acute metaphysical mind, that we see our fellow -creatures contriving and execut- ing adjusted machinery, but men never saw any spirit of a superior order contriving or making a world, or any of the parts or products of a world, -f * Appendix A. + * Dialogues concerning Natural Religion,' by David Hume. THE BEING OF A GOD. 85 The argument lias been received witli unbound- ed applause, and rested upon as an invincible objection to the proof a 'posteriori for the existence of a God. It will now, we trust, be obvious that it does not imply even the shadow of an objection to that argument, but, on the contrary, originates in utter ignorance of the principle under which we conclude that organised existences must have been contrived by intelligent agency. It assumes that we have some a priori knowledge, some personal consciousness of the intelligence of our fellow-crea- tures, and that it is by our experience of their power of contriving and executing adjustments in some cases, that we conclude intelligent beings to be alone capable of contriving and executing adjustments in any case. This, however, it will now be manifest, is a per- fect delusion. We know nothing about the intel- ligence of our fellow-creatures a priori, nor have we any personal consciousness of it. As we have seen, we discover the intelligence of our fellow- creatures solely from its effects. It is our per- sonal consciousness of our own intelligence, and our rational knowledge of its 7iature, which en- able us to infer the intelligence of our felloAV- creatures ; and this knowledge, involved in our very feeling of intelligence, applies as minutely and as stringently to phenomena of a similar kind beyond the competency of our fellow-crea- tures, as to those within their competency. Of 86 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR course, the measure of the wisdom and power of the agent must in each case be determined by the relative magnitude and complication of the phe- nomena. Hence our belief in the operation of intelligent agency, wherever we discover adjusted arrangement, is equally full and valid, whether we do or do not perceive the phenomena in the actual process of construction, because the intelligence contriving the mechanism, and guiding physical power in practically executing its adjustments, is as much concealed from us in the one case as in the other. In either we infer its existence from the effects, as proving the existence of an intelli- gent being from results which we know by our own feelings that intelligence alone could have produced.* In the same way, when we perceive the com- plex machinery of the world, each part constitut- ing in itself a whole, and these uniting together to constitute a farther series of wholes, which again are summed up in a perfect universe, com- plete and regular in all its parts, and adapted minutely to the working out of manifest, harmo- * Accordingly, when we see a machine, of which the parts are so adjusted as all to work together for the production of a defi- nite end, we conclude that it is the work of an intelligent agent, not because we have previously witnessed intelligent agents making such machinery, but because, from our knowledge of the nature of intelligence as felt by ourselves, we are certain that nothing hut intelligence could have contrived, or enabled its contriver to execute it. THE BEING OP^ A GOD. 8/ nious, and important purposes, we conclude, on the very same grounds as those on which we ascribe intelligence to our fellow-creatures, that spiritual agency must liave been there. In this argument we do not consider it in the least necessary to investigate the arrangements of the world with a view of proving that it implies and comprehends organised adjustments. It is infinitely less neces- sary than to investigate the arrangements of a watch or a steam-engine in order to prove that they imply and comprehend organised adjust- ments. Such an investigation is a mere waste of time. Indeed, we are convinced that the many minute investigations of this kind which have been made, as in the 'Bridgewater Treatises,' apart from any satisfactory determination of the principle connecting in our minds adjustment with intelligence, have led to misapprehension, by suggesting some doubts as to the reality of a fact which required so much scientific knowledge to prove and to appreciate. Attention has been in this way distracted from the only particular which needs an argument to another, which no sane man can regard as admitting of a question. We doubt if the man who has made himself intimately acquainted, for example, with the anatomy of the human hand, has any higher idea of its mechani- cal organisation than he who only knows such organisation in its practical working. It is at all events very singular that there seems to be at 8S A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR least as large a number of sceptics and pantheists among medical men as among the professors of any other science. If there were truth in the notion that a mere knowledge of the details of organised adjustments in the universe constituted a stronger proof in itself of intellectual agency in their contrivance and execution, this could not be the case. The same remark holds true of all naturalists. The reason is obviously to be found in their attention to the mere physical mechanisms drawing away their thoughts from the spiritual agencies in which they must origi- nate, and generally, indeed, from spiritual con- siderations of every kind. He who denies that the world is full of oroan- ised adjustments, or that it is itself an organised and adjusted machine, with its parts respectively corresponding to each other, and all arranged so as to operate in harmonious combination, is quite incapable of being convinced by argument. We never indeed heard of any one who ventured to take up such a position. It would be too mani- festly absurd even for the most extravagant of sceptics to assume. On the contrary, instead of denying the organisation of the universe, sceptics assume the universe to be a most perfectly organ- ised system, and all their efforts are dwected through science to explain the organised relations of its parts to one another. We repeat, therefore, that when we perceive the THE BEING OF A GOD. 89 universe in all its parts and as a whole so beauti- fully adjusted, we conclude in the very same way, and on the very same grounds which force us to ascribe intelligence to our fellow-creatures, that spiritual agency must have been there. On a superficial consideration, indeed, it would appear that there must have been many spiritual agencies at work. Just as in seeing an immense assem- blage of various mechanisms before noticing their mutual bearings as parts of a complete whole, we naturally suppose that each must have been the contrivance of a different individual, so in seeing the vast multitudes of mechanisms in the universe, we at first assume that each is the effect of a separate cause. But when we come to discover that all these mechanisms interweave with one another, having a common object, to which they are all so essential that were any one away the whole would be imperfect, the conclusion is forced upon us that all must have been the contrivance of a sinoie mind. It is here that science becomes specially useful in theology, by proving the unity of God through the universality of the relations which it is gradually discovering among all the various parts of the universe. It by no means follows from this, however, that the great Contriver may not have employed dis- tinct and multifarious agencies in the execution of His work. This is perfectly possible, but we have no proof upon the subject one way or the 90 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR other. We have only the phenomena from which to judge, and, as in all other cases, we are not entitled to assume more causes than are sufficient to explain the phenomena. Such is the real pro- cess under which, by the a posteriori argument, we determine the power, the wisdom, and the unity of God ; and if we argue from the phenomena of nature as we argue from artificial phenomena, the conclusion is inevitable. It is, again, as de- monstratively proved as any proposition of mathe- matics. It is said, however, that we are not entitled to argue in the same way from natural phenomena as we argue from artificial phenomena. There is, at any rate, this distinction, we are told, betwixt natural and artificial phenomena, "that the former may he eternal, while we know that the latter had a beginning ; and that if the universe be eternal, it may have a power in itself of spontaneously generating all kinds of products ; higher forms gradually developing themselves from lower forms ; while anomalous and monstrous forms necessarily perish from their want of inherent power to pre- serve life in opposition to the counteracting influ- ences assailing it." * It will be admitted that the argument is fairly stated, and we have pleasure in stating it in the clearest form, because it is the last, and, we believe, the dying argument of pantheism. It is panthe- * Appendix B. THE BEING OF A GOD. 9I ism pushed to its legitimate result, and although beyond all doubt extensively recognised during the present age in a variety of more or less con- fused and indefinite forms, yet we are convinced that it will not bear the slightest examination when thus precisely stated, under the principles wliich, in the previous part of this chapter, we have endeavoured to establish. For, in the first place, the assumption that the world is eternal is altogether away from the ques- tion at issue. There is an infinity of artificial mechanisms which we have never seen in the act of being constructed, and which, therefore, may be eternal in so far as we have any direct knowledge of the matter. Even if we have seen similar mechanisms constructed by our fellow-creatures, it proves nothing, because we discover that our fellow-creatures are intelligent frorfi the very fact of their heing capable of contriving and executing these mechanisms. We could not have known that they were intelligent by any other means. To say that we have experience of intelligent creatures contriving organised adjustments, is absurd. It is the organised adjustments, on the contrary, which they contrive, that prove those that contrived and constructed them to be intelligent creatures. The proof arises from our identification of the efi'ects which they produce with the effects which our own intelligent natures produce, and in connec- tion with this, from a feeling made known to us 92 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR tliroiigli the operation of reason, tha,t nothing but intelligence coulcl have procliicecl them. It is under this argument alone that we can know our fellow-creatures to be intelligent. Hence our conviction of the adjusted world being the work of an intelligent Agent does not in the least depend on our experience of artificial adjusted arrangements having been contrived and executed by our fellow-creatures. On the con- trary, except from our knowledge of the rational faculty, or of intelligence as felt in and thus known to ourselves, we should not have known these ar- rangements to be the work of intelligent creatures at all. As we could have had no a priori means of knowing how they were constructed, none of them could have been ascribed to any definite origin. In other words, we could not have told whether they had been made in time or lasted through eternity, any more tlian we can tell whether the world was made in time or lasted through eternity. The only evidence we have is identically the same in both cases. The knowledge whicli we have of our own intelligent natures assures us that both artificial and natural arrangements were contrived and constructed by intelligent beings, or under their direction, these beings having powers pro- portioned in each case to the magnitude and com- plication of the phenomena. Our belief that the artificial mechanisms around us, so far as we have not seen them constructed, have been constructed THE BEING OF A GOD. 93 in time, is the effect of liabit, or is assumed as a probability. We have nothing to call j:)rc)o/ upon the subject. All our proof ends with the assur- ance of our intelligent natures, that they must have been contrived and constructed under the guidance of natures like their own. This brings us back to the point from which we started, by showing how entirely the objection is away from the question at issue. That question does not regard the time when the w^orld was created, but the agency through which it exists. The question is. Was the agency through which the universe exists intelligent or non-intelligent ? It is no reply to this question to say that the universe may not be the work of an intelligent agent because it may be eternal, any more than it would be a reply to an inquiry as to the agency in contriving a house, to say that it may not have been contrived by an intelligent agent because it has lasted a hundred years. The eternity of the world, even supposing it to have been eternal, only relates to the length of its duration, and has nothing to do with the cause or causes under which its parts have been adjusted and combined. If it has existed throughout eternity, therefore, its intelligent cause must have existed through eternity also, assuming that intelligence is essen- tial to the contrivance and construction of it ; the intelligent agency and the phenomena must thus have existed as cause and effect throughout eter- 94 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR nity * It signifies nothing, so far as this con- clusion is concerned, whether the universe came into existence by a fiat of a Creator's power, or continued throughout eternity under the eternal operation of such a power, or, having originally existed — created or eternal — as an apparently con- fused mass, gradually developed itself by a sort of self-expansive power communicated to it, whether in time or from eternity, into that exquisite and complicated structure which is now an object of admiration to intelligent beings. In this last case, a still larger amount both of wisdom and power would seem to be indicated in the primary conception and construction of such a wondrous mechanism. In all other respects the conclusion must be identically the same. Nor does it make any difference to say that " the world may have the power in itself of spon- taneously generating all kinds of products." The question again recurs, AVhence did it procure the * "We are so accustomed to find the cause preceding the effect, that at first sight the idea of cause and efi'ect being contempor- aneous seems inadmissible. But the difficult}'- arises from our considering causes and effects as always existing in time. It is, however, evident that so long as the cause operates the effect exists. If, therefore, a cause has operated throughout eternity, its effect must have been produced througJiout eternity; and there is no more difficulty in conceiving a cause to operate than a cause to exist throughout eternity. Wherever the word eternity is introduced into any proposition, there must always indeed be an idea involved in it beyond our grasp, but the argu- ment, it will now be seen, in so far as our object is concerned, is perfectly demonstrative. THE BEING OF A GOD. 95 power of generating organised mechanisms ? If nature tells ns in the very knowledge of intelli- gence which onr conscious feeling of the rational faculty involves, that this could only have been through the agency of intelligence, and intelligence proportionate to the magnificence of the result, as we have seen to be the case, then of course there can be no farther difference of opinion on the subject. The conclusion is settled and certain. To say that " the world may in itself have the power of spontaneously generating adjusted ar- rangements and organisations " in any "other sense, is simply to say in other words that adjusted and organised machinery may be generated without in- telligence. It just comes to this, therefore, that we either do not attribute the contrivance and con- struction of adjusted and complicated machinery to intelligence by the essential constitution of our nature, or else that the teaching of nature is not entitled to belief. Now the former of these pro- positions is opposed to every man's experience and conscious feelings. This is proved by the indis- putable fact, that unless we attribute the contriv- ance and construction of adjusted and organised machinery to intelligence hy the very constitution of our rational natures, we could never attribute it to intelligence by any process of the human mind, nor could we indeed form any conception of the principle in which such contrivance and organised construction originate. 96 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR The notion that we know something of the nature of the intelligence of our fellow-creatures a priori, we have seen to be false and absurd. We are neither conscious of it, nor can we per- ceive it by any of our senses. We know as little about the spiritual nature of our fellow-creatures absolutely, as we do about the spiritual nature of our God. We know both solely from our know- ledge of our own spiritual natures, by recognising phenomena in certain of their doings, which we are assured spiritual feelings and faculties similar to our own, and specially the faculty of intelligence, alone could have py^ocluced. When, therefore, we understand distinctly the grounds under which we attribute intelligence to our fellow-creatures, we also understand the grounds under which we attri- bute intelligence to that power which contrived and constructed the world and all that it contains. The argument is so plain as hardly to admit either of doubt or of misapprehension. There is no other possible mode of accounting for our uni- versal belief that adjusted organisation proves in- telligence in any one case. If, therefore, from our knowledge of what intelligence or some equivalent attribute alone can do, we attribute the formation of artificial machinery to our fellow-creatures, it is a mathematical demonstration that we must attribute the more exquisite and complicated machinery of the universe to an intelligence proportionally greater. THE BEING OF A GOD. 97 This brings us to the only other possible as- sumption, to the effect that the teaching of nature is not entitled to belief. Now this assumption has been already dealt with. It is a practical absurdity. Whether the teaching of nature be true or false, it must be true to us, since we have no other means of ascertaining truth. If, there- fore, we deny the validity of the teaching of nature, there can be no argument, no convic- tion, and no opinion even about anything. The very objection itself implies a contradiction and an extravagance. There can obviously indeed be neither sense nor weight in an objection which founds on the very assumption that it re- pudiates. But though the argument from the adjusted organisation of the universe and its products ap- pears to be thus so clear and so precise as to admit of no le^lj, if the teaching of nature is to be trusted, yet there is still another mode of stat- ing it, which it is worth while to outline for the sake of exhausting the subject. For adjustment requires that materials should exist suited to its realisation. The universe and its products could not have existed in an organised form, unless the elements of which it is composed had possessed the properties under which it was possible for them so to combine, as to constitute the various mechanisms which the universe and its products exhibit, and these again all so related to each 98 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR otlier as to form harmonioTis portions of an ap- parently infinite whole. The pantheistic disciples of the hypothesis of development argue that the universe and its pro- ducts may have been gradually formed by the operation of the laws of nature alone. The " laws of nature" are, in their eyes, a sort of magical or mysterious power altogether unknown to man, but capable in themselves of working out definite results. It is a theory exceedingly unintelligible, but it does not seem to be true even to the limited extent that a meaning can be attached to it. The " laws of nature " do not in any degree imply a magical or mysterious power. A " law of nature " is simply the name which we give to the qualities or properties of existences, so related to each other as to produce certain definite effects through their mutual action. It is a " law of nature," for exam- ple, that the qualities of fire have such a relation to the qualities of paper, that if they are brought into a position where they can act upon each other the fire reduces the paper to ashes. These rela- tions, consequently, must practically realise them- selves when they are placed in a position wherein the several qualities which they possess can act upon each other, for otherwise the relations in which they stand to each other would at once he the same and different!^ * The "laws of nature," as usually employed, is therefore just another name for the constitution of nature as inferred from THE BEING OF A GOD. 99 The result in each case, therefore, is manifestly certain. The same qualities or powers cannot work out different effects. The elements of things must possess those properties by which they combine together, and act upon each other ; or, in other words, they must possess inherent re- lations to each other, under which they can con- stitute phenomena, or else there could be no " laws of nature." These elements might have been im- bued with any other of the infinite variety of pro- perties which are conceivable, so as to have stood to one another in relations which would either not act on each other at all, or would not act in the forms and according to the degrees essential for the production of phenomena. Had they not stood to each other in the exact relation in which they actually exist, therefore, there could have been no " laws of nature," or, at all events, there could not ham been the laius of nature which we noiv find operating. How then do the elements of the universe and its products come to possess those precise pro- perties in the precise degrees which enable them so to combine and regularly operate as to the properties or qualities with which nature has invested the various elements or essences Avhich exist in their relations to each other. As used by pantheists in their cosmological theory, the "laws of nature," though it may be unknown to many of themselves, is, on the other hand, either merely another name for INTELLIGENT AGENCY, or to US it is Self- Contradictory, and can have no positive meaning at all. lOO A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR constitute what are called " laws of nature " ? How do they come to possess those precise pro- perties, in the precise degrees, which enable them to endow each mechanism of which they are the parts with qualities not only conservative of them- selves and other existences, but also developing into more extensive relations by becoming more perfect organisms ? The development hypothesis does not fully explain the theory of phenomena, even assuming that they originated with an in- telligent being ; but it does not even pretend to explain in any way the still more striking mani- festations of design which necessarily precede phenomena, by accounting for the elements of things being endowed with those precise proper- ties which could alone have rendered such phe- nomena possible. This can only be done by a reference to that " law of nature " which connects organised adjustment with intelligence. The ele- ments of things might have existed under an infinity of other forms, and with an infinity of other properties, or, for aught we can tell, without any relative properties at all ; and no theory, save the assumption of the contrivance and action of an intelligent power, can give us even the most shadovN^y conception of the means under which they could have been so constituted, and so re- lated, as to form a universe complete in all its parts, harmonious in all its proportions, and ex- quisitely adjusted in all its relations. If our in- THE BEING OF A GOD. lOI tuitive knowledge of the nature of reason, as involved in the very feeling of it, assures us that adjusted arrangement in any case can only be the result of intelligent agency, still more — if there can be a more or less in regard to such a conclusion — still more does it assure us that the properties of those elements, without which there could not be such a thing as adjusted and mutu- ally related arrangements, must be the result of intelligent agency.* To say again that the elements 'of things are so constituted as to form every possible variety of phenomena, of which, however, only the most perfect survive, so as that the system and its parts are continually developing into higher and higher perfection, which, as has been said, is the last, and we believe the last possible, development of pantheism,-^ is only to illustrate the evidence. What, indeed, could be conceived more perfect * Just as human beings know and select and shape the parts suitable for constructing artificial mechanisms, must the su- preme power have known and constituted with suitable pro- perties the elements suitable for constructing the mechanisms of the universe. This must be our conclusion, unless we assume that these suitable elements existed, and no others, — an assumption which would just lead us back to our former con- clusion, though by a circuitous process. + This is not necessarily a pantheistic theory. It is only pantheistic when the development spoken of is assumed to be a property of matter. We call it pantheistic, therefore, because it is usually understood in this sense, though our argument in truth demonstrates that it really leads to a conclusion the very reverse of pantheism. 102 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR than the intelligence which imbued every ele- ment with every property, except those that are contradictory, and in such a manner that, when they began to operate, the resulting phenomena would essentially and necessarily have the power of purging themselves of all that is imperfect, so as ultimately to generate an infinite progression of farther phenomena leading continually to higher perfection without end ? There is at least so much to be said in favour of this theory, that it certainly seems to involve an effort of wisdom and power so enormous as to afford us something like a practical notion of infinity. If a mechanism at once so minute and so magnificent, so exquisitely organised and so inconceivably complicated, could exist under the action of physical causes, what a deception must those natures of ours be, which compel us to believe that intelligence, and no small measure of intelligence, is essential to the contrivance of an egg-cup and the construction of a pin ! But if our natures are to be trusted and the laws of nature to be believed, how incredible and pitiable, on the contrary, must be the folly of those who attribute the mechanism of worlds and their products to physical causes ! Assuming that our natures are to be trusted, and what, indeed, is felt intuitively to be true, that lue cannot help trusting them, it will be admitted that this theory of development, involving the operation of even more stupendous intelligence than any other THE BEING OF A GOD. I03 wliich lias been proposed, seems a not unsuitable finale to tliat mass of wild guesses which modern pantheism has originated, and of which each has been successively found on examination to be more destructive of that very pantheism than any of its predecessors. Under these views, we hardly think that our conclusion will be contested, at least by the use of reason. There may be difficulties with respect to some of the attributes of Deity, and these we shall consider afterwards ; but that this universe, in its elements and in its adjusted arrangements, is the contrivance and the work of an intelligent agency, is so intuitively certain from the knowledge which we have of our own intellectual nature, that if it admit of dispute, all confidence in the teachings of nature must be at an end. We have no con- viction more precise and more indisputable than that "adjusted organisations, with their elements, originate in intelligence." The proposition, in- deed, is a mere expression of the intuitive assur- ance which our mental experience from the first exercise of reason gives us of the nature of intel- ligence. We have now examined everything which has been proposed deserving the name of an objection^ for the purpose of even suggesting doubts as to the being of a God ; and we respectfully but con- fidently submit, that these very objections have only served to give the argument more thoroughly 104 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR the character of a demonstration. We admit that it does not prove the absolute omnipotence and omniscience of the Supreme Being — a posteriori. We can only prove a power and a wisdom suffi- cient for the contrivance and construction of the universe, so far as it falls under our observa- tion with all the existences, organic and inor- ganic, which it comprehends. Even a priori we can only prove infinity of any kind as a some- thing of which we cannot conceive the limits. But a ptosteriori our proof is farther narrowed. We can only prove a vastness of wisdom and power, of the limits of which we can realise some conception, although from its very immensity our conception of it must necessarily be vague. Yet this is more than enough for our purpose, even apart from the a p)riori proof. It is all that finite creatures, indeed, can even in a measure appreciate upon such a subject. Anything farther, as with respect to the infinity which the a p)riori argu- ment teaches us, is merely negative. It is at this point, accordingly, where the combination of the arguments becomes available, were it neces- sary for a still ulterior proof The negative assur- ance, that the attributes of the Supreme Being can have no limits, demonstrates that the power which operates within the sphere which we know must be the same Being that operates beyond it wherever space or time is to be found. The immutability of God follows from the THE BEING OF A GOD. IO5 premises already established. It is impossible, and indeed involves a contradiction in terms, to suppose that a perfectly wise Being can doubt either as to His plans or the modes in which they are to be realised. Accordingly, this attribute is ascertained by our unvarying experience, in so far as the phenomena are submitted to our cog- nisance. Every law of God we find to be steady and permanent in effecting its purpose, so far as its realisation has been reserved to Himself!^' The sun, for example, retaining all his proper- ties, rises and sets with such perfect regularity at the appointed times that each of them can be mathematically calculated. The stars, in the same way, pursue their several courses in an undeviating order. The spring, the summer, the autumn, the winter, recur in unchanging succession. In a word, all the arrangements of nature, in so far as they depend upon the Creator, are so uniform, consistent, and harmonious, as in every particular to confirm the general principle, that He who fixed and decreed them is in the strictest sense of the word immutable. This we believe so firmly that we act upon the conviction every moment, and without a hesitation as to the result. We have no evidence upon the subject, exceed the assurance that a perfectly wise Being cannot change; and yet so deeply is the conviction stamped upon our * The nature and effect of this exception will be fully ex- plained afterwards. I06 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT FOR minds, that no persuasion could induce us to believe that the sun will not rise to-morrow, or that any of the arrangements of nature will deceive us. In believing the phenomena of nature immutable, therefore, we imply a substra- tum of belief that their cause is immutable, and that He will never consequently change them, until He show those whom He has made depend- ent upon them, by some unquestionable sign, that His purpose in sustaining them is perfected.'"' Such, then, are the proofs demonstrating the ex- istence of a God, in connection with His natural attributes, as derived from natural theology, and we do not hesitate to say that they are perfect. We do not believe that any objection having the appearance of plausibility can even be prpposed to them. We admit that hitherto the proof has been too much rested on the mere experience which men have of the contrivance and construc- tion of adjusted arrangements by their fellow- creatures. This, however, it will now be seen, cannot strictly constitute an argument for proving that other adjusted arrangements must also have been contrived and constructed by intelligent beings, because we do not perceive the intellects of our fellow-creatures contriving and construct- * This intuitive feeling of the permanence of natural laws, as flowing from our conviction of the immutability of the Supreme Being, evidently results from that sense of depend- ence on an omniscient and omnipotent power, which constitutes our proof of the natural attributes of God. THE BEING OF A GOD. 10/ ing, any more than we perceive tlie Spirit of our God.* The two conclusions depend upon exactly the same evidence, and we consequently just as much require to prove that the adjusted arrange- ments contrived and constructed by our fellow- creatures are the result of intelligence, as that the adjustments of nature are the result of intelligence. To make two conclusions, therefore, which depend on precisely the same evidence, probative of one another, is evidently to argue in a circle. The proof in both cases originates in our intuitive knowledge of the nature of intelligence as felt by ourselves and discriminated by our reason, under which we are assured by the voice of nature that adjusted arrangements, as well as the construction of the elements or parts which effect adjusted arrange- ments, can only he the product of intelligence, or of some equivalent attribute, No doubt, if any one denies that the voice of nature gives us an assurance that adjusted arrange- ments can only be the product of intelligence, he meets our argument for the being of a God ; but HE ALSO MEETS ANY POSSIBLE PKOOF FOE OUR BELIEF IN THE INTELLIGENCE OF OUR FELLOW-CREATURES. The argument which proves the one is the only argicment which proves the other. Hence, he who denies or doubts the intelligent agency of a God in * On the contrary, the misconception which originated this form of stating the argument has mainly given rise to modern pantheism. Io8 A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT, ETC. contriving and constructing the universe, must of necessity, as matter of logic, deny or doubt the m- telligent agency of man in contriving and construct- ing the artificial arrangements and machinery which exist in the woi'ld. There is not one particle of evidence proving the one, which does not also prove the other. Now, if this be true — and we can- not help thinking that it has been demonstrated— THERE IS AN END, WE PRESUME, TO ANY FORM OP PANTHEISM. Men may still, indeed, allow them- selves to be more or less practically deluded, through ignorance or prejudice ; but any theoreti- cal objection to the a posterio7^i argument for the being of a God having even the appearance of plausibility seems impossible. Such an objection must assume the form of absolute scepticism, in denying that we have any means of knowing whether our fellow-creatures be mere acting and speaking machines, or intelligent creatures like ourselves. There is no conceivable argument which will prove them to be intelligent beings, which will not with the very same certainty prove the universe to have been contrived and constructed by an intelligent God. CHAPTER IIL ARGUMENT FOR THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD. DEFINITION AND CHARACTER OF MORALITY— GOD CANNOT BE AN IMMORAL BEING— PROVED FROM THE POSITION AND RELATIONS OF MAN TO HIS FELLOW-CREATURES AND HIS GOD — THE DIFFICULTY ARISING FROM THE RIGOUR OF GOD'S JUSTICE OBVIATED— NO DIFFICULTY EXISTS ON THE SUBJECT, EXCEPT IN SO FAR AS ARISES FROM THE LIMITED NATURE OF THE HUMAN FACULTIES —CONCLUSION. Morality is a general name for the feelings with which intelligent beings must regard each other in order to secure their highest individual happi- ness, and the highest happiness of the whole ; and ethics is the name of the science which teaches morality. These feelings, or attributes, as they are usually called in reference to the Supreme Being, necessarily imply happiness in themselves. Farther, feelings which have in view the happi- ness of others must evidently, in so far as they gratify ourselves, realise their gratification in their exercise, because there is no other source from which it can be derived. No doubt the gratifica- no PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. tion will be intensified when the feeling actually attains its purpose in promoting that happiness of others which is its ultimate aim. This, however, is simply a portion of the same gratification, so fa?' as lue are concerned, since another man's happiness cannot absolutely and in itself gratify us. The happiness which we ourselves realise in the process from first to last, therefore, arises from our enjoyment of the primary feeling of love, since the welfare of another cannot possibly constitute in any accurate sense a source of selfish gratification. To call our delight in the happiness of another selfish, is a mere abuse of terms. We could not be moral beings unless w^e delighted in the hap- piness of others. Hence the happiness which we derive from actually benefiting another, is merely an intensification of that moral feeling of love in which our efforts to be useful originated, as more closely binding us to him whom we have bene- fited. Apart from all external considerations, therefore, moral feelings are blessed in themselves ; and no feeling can be truly moral which does not in this way more or less bless us in itself, even though no other advantage should accrue from it. We discover the same thing from the evidence of our personal experience. Every moral feeling, we are conscious, is in itself an agreeable feeling ; while, on the contrary, every immoral feeling, so far as it is immoral, is in itself painful ; the plea- sure which it may involve not consisting in any- PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. Ill thing in the feeling itself, but in our anticipation of the satisfaction to be derived from its ultimate gratification. Every form of malignity is conse- quently painful, as arising from perverted desires, which, involving violations of natural laws, must be in themselves painful, — such as envy, jealousy, hatred, revenge, and the like. We admit, indeed, that there may be immoral desires which do not in themselves necessarily imply malignity, as in the case of sensual desires ; but if they do not imply absolute malignity, they imply, when in excess, more or less of that selfish- ness which we also know from experience crushes the spirit of love, apart from which, man's nature is hateful to himself as well as to others. It is obvious, therefore, that malignity cannot in the nature of things be predicated with respect to an omnipotent and omniscient Being. Such a Being could have no object in malignity, as being unsus- ceptible of the weaknesses in which it originates. He cannot be envious, nor jealous, nor influenced by hatred and revenge, because all things are His, and all beings are at His command. It is impos- sible, therefore, that such perverted desires could be felt by Him. It is almost more absurd to sup- pose moral than to suppose intellectual weakness in the Supreme Power. The supposition, indeed, seems to imply a contradiction in terms. In the same way, and under the same principles, do we conclude that an omnipotent and omniscient 112 PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. Being must realise in Himself perfect blessedness. An omnipotent and omniscient Being must, from the very nature of His attributes, have the means of blessedness in His own power, and must know how to use them. From the constitution of His existence, therefore, He must be perfectly blessed. A contrary supposition would, again, imply a con- tradiction in terms. No doubt, creatures such as we are can argue but very imperfectly with regard to the nature of Him who reigneth for ever and ever. But here there seems no difficulty in the matter, if reason imply universal principles, and the conclu- sions of reason consequently be of universal appli- cation. The omnipotent and omniscient Being must be perfectly blessed in the exercise of His own attributes, or else He must prefer suffering, which reason teaches us to be impossible. The conclusion seems nearly an identical proposition. God, therefore, must possess every attribute of moral excellence, because these constitute the only perfect blessedness, as being dependent on no ex- ternal thing, but being blessed in their own en- joyment. He consequently must necessarily be a God of lov^e, truth, and justice. These form the law, if we may so speak, of His nature, and must be obligatory on all His intelligent creatures, as involving the principles under which they are re- lated to Him. By these alone can they be united, consequently, with God, and enabled to participate according to their measure in His blessedness. PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. II3 But this conclusion, which, even thus generally stated, seems altogether indisputable, is further demonstrated by a consideration of the very na- ture of man, although not, we think, under the mode which has usually been adopted. To under- stand this argument thoroughly, we must ascer- tain in so far, in the first instance, the precise posi- tion and constitution of human beings in relation to the object on account of which they have been placed in this world. It is to a misconception with regard to this matter, we are inclined to be- lieve, that difficulties connected with the argument are almost exclusively to be ascribed. We say of human beings, not only because w^e know^ too little of the position and constitution of the lower animals to be enabled to determine anything posi- tively with regard to them, but because, so far as we can discover, man is the only moral being that exists on the face of our earth, and therefore the only being capable of appreciating moral attri- butes.* * We by no means intend to affirm that tlie lower animals are altogether devoid of moral feelings. On the contrary, they show great affection to their young, sometimes are seen to sympathise with each other, frequently manifest affection to- wards those who are kind to them, and in many instances can be taught certain duties required of them by those on whom they are dependent. In all these cases, however, the feeling seems rather the effect of a moral instinct than of any appreci- ation of natural relationship ; and we cannot in any instance trace among the lower animals an approach to that more per- fect morality which connects creatures with their Creator. H 114 PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. From the position, then, of human beings in this world, taken in connection with their mental con- stitution and character, it is perfectly certain, as we have already seen, that they are here for the purpose of seeking for happiness. All men, in all circumstances, are perpetually seeking for happi- ness, and for happiness only, and that the most intense and permanent that they can procure. The desire has no limit. It is perfect and endless happiness that they seek ; and if they are content with less, it is only because they cannot see their way to attaining more. They will even make a sacrifice for the time, for the purpose of securing more intense and permanent happiness subse- quently. In seeking happiness, indeed, different individuals take often entirely different methods, according to their respective characters and cir- cumstances, but the general end is invariably the same. There are no exceptions. Now in this universal pursuit of happiness there is a continu- ous struggle between our selfishness and our moral feelings. Each is perpetually, though we may be more or less unconscious of it, striving for the Except under the guidance of pure instinct, indeed, we cannot discover that they have any idea of futurity, or make any pro- vision for it. In a word, as we have said in the text, the nature and constitution of the lower animals are too little known to us to ascertain with any measure of accuracy the precise object on account of which they have been placed in this world, or almost anything farther in regard to them, in a spiritual point of view, than the general relations which connect them with the human race. I PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. II5 mastery ; and as this cannot possibly be avoided, we must conclude that it was the purpose of nature that it should be so. These propensities and feelings, however, are not absolutely inconsistent. We may enjoy both selfish and moral gratifications without the one counteracting the other, and that even more in- tensely than when either is enjoyed singly. This, however, is only possible when selfishness is kept in a subordinate place. When in the slightest degree it acquires a mastery over the mind, the sensibility of our moral feelings becomes propor- tionally blunted. From the usual character of our early training, however, and from the consti- tution of human society, it is extremely difficult to exercise the necessary control over our selfish- ness, so as to enjoy with any measure of fulness both classes of tendencies. We are almost edu- cated in selfishness, and the effect of education, of course, passes into more advanced life, on which we have no sooner entered than we find almost all around us having their whole souls apparently concentrated on the interests of themselves and their families. The desire of sensual indulgence, with the corresponding love of admiration and lust of ambition which it engenders in youth, adds enormously to the evil, by chaining us, as it were, to the earth, and so assimilating us to the lower animals that we can hardly look forward to ulterior consequences at all, except in so far as Il6 PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. regards the means by wliicli worldly suffering may be avoided, and our passions and worldly purx30ses may be gratified. Now there are no donbt various modes provided by nature, under which men may subdue their passions and habits, and recover the use of their reason, so as more or less fully to ascertain where- in the most intense and permanent happiness is to be found; but as matter of fact we know that this result is usually and mainly effected by suffering. The difficulties, calamities, and fears which occur to us in life, constitute, in the great majority of cases, the instrumentality by which we discover that selfishness and sensuality are not the means of securing intense and permanent happiness. This is most thoroughly realised, at all events, when disappointments trouble us, when misfortunes sadden us, when pain racks us, and when the prospect of death terrifies us. These are the grand means which nature has provided for leading us to meditate on our true position, and on the only mode in which our increasing desire for happiness can be realised. It is consequently an utter en^or to suppose that our Creator is benevo- lent in the sense of His desiring His creatures to be free from all kind of suffering in this present world. On the contrary. His benevolence is fre- quently displayed in causing that very suffering, if it be rightly applied, to work out for us a far higher and more permanent happiness than we PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. II could otherwise have procured. The afflictions of life, therefore, under this view, may become eminent blessings. Indeed, they are never sent except for the sake of blessing those who are visited by them ; and hence, if they are not bless- ings to us, it is because we refuse to recognise in them the message of God, and the purpose of His all-perfect providence.* An entire suspension of suffering, moreover, seems from the very nature of things impossible, even were it desirable, with respect to creatures enjoying free will, and at the same time possessing not only a very limited intelligence, but an intel- ligence in its development so dependent upon experience. Supposing them even to have been created happy, and ivitli the means of realising the highest haiopincss, it is yet obvious that any error * Afflictions, however, are only sent by reason of the hard- ness of the human heart. The Supreme Being would choose rather, we are assured, to sanctify us through indulgence than through suffering. He sends suffering as the only remedy under the circumstances. Let us receive the gifts of God with grati- tude, each of them augmenting our love for Him, and leading us to a closer union with Him, and every step in this direction will diminish our worldly sufferings. We never, indeed, in this world, can arrive at that degree of perfection which would render all suffering useless, but the nearer we approach to it will our sufferings be less and less. This, however, though it appears to be conformable to the attributes of God, is only to be determined by evidence, and we have no hesitation in saying that the evidence is strongly in favour of the assumption. Let a man only make the trial, and he will be satisfied by his own experience, which is the best of all evidence. Il8 PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. in judgment, or any sudden impulse, might at once alter their condition, and subject them to evil. Nothing save a continuous miracle could prevent this, and a continuous miracle would manifestly interfere with free will, so as to subvert the very system of discipline which God has decreed for the purpose of determining character. Experi- ence directed by reason can alone constitute the guide of such creatures, under w^hich, having been taught the only means of securing intense and permanent happiness, they are induced under the practical convictions thus attained to realise them. The object of the Supreme Being, therefore, in the creation of such beings as we are, must have been to direct them to happiness through experi- ence, so that, becoming acquainted experimentally both with good and evil, they might learn to choose the good and eschew the evil. Thereby men necessarily become imbued with a character, which, depending on no incidental or external objects for happiness, realises such happiness in itself as essentially involved in the very nature of their feelings. Such is, accordingly, the actual condition of the human race. However men may have been created, it is certain, from the existing constitution of human society, that we are now in a state of moral discipline. Born as infants into the world, without the capability of distinguishing betwixt that which is or is not calculated to secure our PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. I IQ highest and most permanent happiness, every one is appointed to engage in the strnggle betwixt selfishness and love, and to determine thus in his own experience the character which will most assuredly realise the object of his existence. In other words, we are here in a state of discipline, to be exercised by ourselves, under the influence and through the faculties which God has constituted and given us. It is not, therefore, selfish en- joyment or indulgence with which the Supreme Being intends or proposes mainly to bless us, but moral happiness constituting a character, so as to be not only permanent, but permanent in the sense that it cannot be taken away from us, as having become of the very essence of our natures, and which, when once begun, circumstances w^ill not only not deteriorate, but will enhance and purify. Circumstances, and especially suffering, become the very means through which the charac- ter is thus more thoroughly perfected, until a time arrive, when, the character being established, cir- cumstances as means will be comparatively un- necessary, except in so far as our changed natures may be more entirely gratified in the opportuni- ties which they enjoy of its practical realisation. This argument seems really to consist of a series of almost identical propositions. It is just a de- scription of the actual position in which man exists. In other words, it is a development of the manifest laws of nature, in so far as man is con- 120 PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. cerned, by which his conduct must be regulated for good or evil. Nor can the effect of this argu- ment fail to be enhanced, when we consider that it explains the long - disputed problem of the origin of evil, demonstrating that both physical and moral evil are implied in the plan of God's governme^it. It shows that physical evil is abso- lutely essential to the working out of His purpose, and indicates that moral evil must necessarily arise under it, from the very gift of free will con- ferred upon creatures born and trained under such a condition of society as that which, from whatever cause, actually exists among men. Thus far our conclusions, we presume, as matter of logic, can hardly admit even of difference of opinion. What the intense and permanent good is, in its precise form, which the Supreme Being thus calls upon us by the voice of nature to seek, and what the evil which He calls upon us to eschew, is a different question, which comes next to be more particularly determined. Of course such determination will enable us, under still another form, to ascertain the moral attributes of the Deity. With this view, then, it is to be observed in the first instance, that moral feeling, speaking gene- rally, is, as we have seen, the only condition of mind which implies happiness in itself All our other feelings depend for their gratification on externals, which are incidental and occasional. The pleasure derivable from our other feelings, PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. 121 tlierefore, can only last while such incidental and occasional gratifications are in our power, and while our desire for them continues to exer- cise an influence. We say while our desire for them continues to exercise an influence, because it is an imperfection connected with all such gra- tifications that there not only comes a time at which they cease altogether, but that in all plea- sure derived from such sources the desire in a great measure ceases in the very act of gratifica- tion. Supposing us even to have the means of gratification in our power, the indulgence of these desires after a time becomes indifferent, if not offensive, to us. This is especially the case with reference to mere sensual desires, which, if grati- fied to excess, actually generate results destructive of our bodily health and of our mental energy. There is here, therefore, a distinct practical pre- cept taught in the laws of nature that we are bound to regulate and control such desires. With reference to other selfish passions, such as ambition and the like, they, if carried to excess, not only after a time cease to afford anything beyond a mere negative gratification, but neces- sarily interfere with the operation of our moral feelings ; as indeed is also the case with sensual desires carried to excess: and the moment that either of them does this, they begin both to gene- rate moral pain on the one hand, and to subject us to the dislike and vengeance of our fellow- 122 PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. creatures ou the other. In this, again, we have a practical precept in the law of nature, to the effect that we are hound to regulate and control them. The laws of nature are, however, the laws of God, for they are a mere name for the relations under which He has constructed and arranged the uni- verse. In these precepts, therefore, we have an expression of the will and the design of God to the effect that there is a point at which our selfish tendencies are to be regulated and controlled, even for the sake of our selfishness itself, because beyond that point our selfishness overreaches itself, and generates an amount of suffering, directly and indirectly, which ultimately exceeds, and may far exceed, any amount of enjoyment which the farther gratification of our selfish pro- pensities could afford. In this manifestation of the will and design of God, we are in thus far of course made acquainted with the moral attributes of God, which originate, if we may so say. His will, and thus are assured that God is in the highest sense a moral Being, who allows us to enjoy the pleasures of the world in which He has placed us, but strictly under subservience to that moral nature, in the exercise of which He thereby shows it to be His purpose that our higher and more permanent happiness should be found. This, however, clear as in so far it may be, is only the very elements of the argument. For our selfish PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. 1 23 gratifications, and just in 2^'i^oportion to the degree that we are intellige7it, become embittered by the uncertainty of our future fate. We may not only be deprived of all our external enjoyments, but plunged in misfortune, sickness, and pain, with the prospect of death before us, and we have no possible means of protecting ourselves even for a single moment. Of all this we have continual experience. Every day we hear of such vicissi- tudes in human affairs. Every day we hear of persons of all ranks, ages, and degrees of strength being cut off when they least expected it ; and in addition, we have the prospect before us of a future world, as to our condition in which, we are, if possible, still more helx^less. We may be condemned to eternal misery, and we have no means of avoiding it. No man can altogether get rid of such considerations. We can only elude them by banishing them from our minds, so far as is in our power. Eor this purpose, those who cannot bear such thoughts — and, in truth, none could bear them if they dwelt upon them, for they w^ould drive us mad — plunge into the business, and amusements, and indulgences of life, that these may occupy their attention ; or, in other words, may as opiates deaden their mental suffer- ings and fears. We say deaden, because no one can entirely supersede them. As the criminal condemned to death can never altogether stifle the thought of his approaching doom, even though 124 PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. he have an opportunity of partially deadening it by intoxication, or other similar indulgences — and the sting involved in the prospect does, as matter of fact, perpetually more or less torment him — so is it with all men whose whole trust is in this world. We are all as surely condemned to death as he is, and the only difference is the possibility of a short respite. There is no difference what- ever, except in point of time, and this is not very material, since the time to us is altogether uncer- tain. Like him, therefore, we cannot, do what we may, altogether supersede the horror which we feel under such circumstances at our approaching fate. We may be hardly conscious of it, and yet it is no less certainly qualifying our state of mind. This wretchedness is aggravated just in proportion to the degree of our selfishness, and the hopeless- ness of its farther gratification. We have known not a few, and one in particu- lar, in whom we were sincerely interested, who was reduced under such circumstances to absolute despair. He had been guilty of no particular crime, but, on the contrary, had been greatly respected, and was indeed in his general character a very lovable person. But he had been abso- lutely trained to selfishness, for every wish that he had indicated was anticipated almost before it could be expressed. He professed religion, and with an ordinary measure of sincerity, but he had never been practically taught that religion PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. 1 25 requires us to exercise self-control, specially with a view to the promotion of the happiness of others. Accordingly, his whole life was spent in a round of amusements. He was perpetually in society, and delighted in the attention and admiration which his qualifications hoth of body and mind secured him there. From his peculiarly youthful appearance, he maintained his position amongst the gay and the worldly till a comparatively late period of life. Then, however, misfortune began to overtake him. His relations died. His for- tune — although he still possessed the means of comfort — was seriously impaired. His health in some degree gave way. It was then that he de- plored to us the condition to which he was re- duced. He avowed his hatred of those who were in more favourable circumstances than himself. It was with a sort of horror that we heard him express his anguish that a worthy person had recovered from the disease of which his own nearest and dearest relation had recently died. He had not a hope of further happiness on earth. His sufferings were intense, because he saw no X3rospect of their being alleviated. He would willingly have died, if he could have been assured that death was annihilation. But a consciousness of his own engrained selfishness made him afraid to die. It was hell begun. Nor is this by any means a solitary case. We have known several in much the same condition ; 126 PROOF OF god's MORAL ATTRIBUTES. and from the very nature of man, there can be no doubt that there must be thousands. Every one, indeed, who is the slave of selfishness, must feel this, and just in proportion to his intelligence, when overtaken by calamity or disease, specially if accompanied by bodily anguish, so that there is no means of using those opiates for deadening spiritual pain to which we have adverted. Dif- ferent men, no doubt, according to the strength of their nerves and the degree of their mental energy, will suffer more or less; but no mortal man, under such circumstances, can fail to suffer, and to suffer severely, however much strength of nerves and mental energy may enable him to con- ceal it. Moral feelings of the highest class caw alone help to sustain us, for they depend upon no external thing, and cannot be taken away. But they may do much more than help to sustain us, if rightly understood. This will be obvious from a farther development of the argu- ment. For hitherto we have mainly spoken of our moral feelings in the most restricted sense, as relating us to our fellows-creatures only. They have, however, a far more extended range. It is indeed the erroneously narrow^ range within which they have been usually limited, that has left the moral attributes of God rather proved than de- monstrated. Eor our moral feelings not only connect us with our fellow-creatures, but con- stitute the essential link by which we are also TROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. 12/ connected with our God. It is impossible, indeed, to conceive that the all-perfect God should have created beings who were to have no practical relation to Himself, and who must therefore be altogether indifferent with respect to Him. Still more impossible is it to conceive that He should have created beings for the purpose of hating Him. This is to us incredible. We can- not imagine that the very devils could have plea- sure in being hated. The idea of any intelligent being having pleasure in being hated is to us an absurdity. We could just as well imagine a sentient being having pleasure in pain. That the Supreme Being, therefore, should have pleasure in malignity, or should be gratified by the indifference or hatred of His creatures, is per- fectly incredible. It is an assumption not only inconsistent with the moral feelings of our natures, but, judging from the laws of our natures, is incon- sistent with itself ; and we must in this, as in all similar cases, argue from the laws of our natures, because there is notJdng else from which we can possibly argue. But these laws are the laws of God, and consequently are the outgoings of His attributes and the declaration of His will. We could not have other or better evidence, unless we were capable of knowing the essence of the Divine nature in our consciousness. It is the evidence under which we judge in every instance, and the very same, in a more irresistible form, under which 128 PROOF OF god's MORAL ATTRIBUTES. we ascertain the feelings and dispositions of our fellow-creatures. It is under these considerations that the teach- ing of nature guides us again with a firm hand to a still fuller assurance of the moral attributes of God. For as we feel that we are related to our fellow-creatures by moral laws, which in them- selves and in their effects generate our most intense happiness on earth, so that were we left solitary and alone wc should he uttey^ly wretched, in the same way do we feel that we are in a still closer degree related to the Supreme Being. In fact, we are every moment made conscious of our entire dependence upon God. With the prospect of possible misfortune, which we have no means of averting — of possible sickness, which we have no means of relieving — of death, which we have no means of evading — of everlasting misery beyond the grave, which we have no means of escaping, our fellow-creatures being utterly un- able to preserve us, — apa7't froin trust in God, it is i7npossible that we could he happy. Is it not, on the contrary, manifest that under such a pro- spect nothing save continual engagements and amusements distracting our thoughts could pre- serve those who are capable of reflection from a sort of protracted despair ? Hence it is, as we have already indicated, that men so often have recourse to engagements and amusements and indulgences, without which even PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. 1 29 the most senseless and inconsiderate, and still more intelligent men, would be forced by very weariness of spirit to tliink, and to tliink in bitterness of heart, on their prospects here and hereafter. Such is the position in which human beings stand whilst they are away from God ; and assuredly it is difficult to conceive any condition more awful, or more agitating. The moment, however, that we begin, under such circumstances, to realise our sense of de- pendence on God, and thence to feel a trust in Him, which is manifestly the moral relation that ought to connect intelligent heings luith their Creator, all this is and must be changed. The slightest hope that we may be protected by Him who is omnipotent and omniscient, at once in- fuses a balm into our souls, which, in proportion to the degree of its strength, soothes all our sor- rows and alleviates all our fears. We are con- scious that no power can injure us if He be really our Father and our Friend. Thus peace begins, and as our trust grows our happiness is still farther and farther enhanced, because thorough trust in God necessarily implies perfect happiness both here and hereafter. A conviction of the immortality of the soul is there- fore, from the very nature of the case, hivolved in it. We have in this way our grand and increas- ing desire for permanent happiness fully assured, and that under the most intense force of which I 130 PROOF OF god's MORAL ATTRIBUTES. our natures are susceptible. N"or, in the first in- stance, does it signify whether our belief be or be not well founded. The belief, apart from every- thinof else, blesses us at once, and in itself. The inconveniences and even the sufferings of the world become actual sources of blessedness to him who believes that they are mere means of procuring glory through eternity, just as a few months of toil and even suffering would be wel- comed by the worldly man who believed that he w^as thereby to secure to himself rank, wealth, and fortune. In this, indeed, we have an irresistible evidence for the truth of our belief. For our natures must be worse than a delusion if the only belief which can realise the unceasing object of our whole lives is to be regarded as a falsehood. We have, con- sequently, in this belief, something more than even the voice of nature ; it is almost as if we literally heard the voice of God calling us to Himself, and proclaiming, in language which cannot be mis- understood, that in a union with Him we have the whole purpose of our natures satisfied, and the ultimate object of our natures realised. There can be no other means. If it cannot be thus effected, the end for which we live, at which we are perpetually striving, and apart from which our very creation would seem an abortive effort of nature, must be hopelessly disappointed. We cannot conceive this to be possible. To us the PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. I31 very proposition implies again a contradiction in terms. Our union with God, liowever, involves the most entire consummation of moral excellence. It involves a trust pure and unfeigned, since the omniscient God cannot be deceived ; and this again involves the realisation of a love equally pure and unfeigned, for perfect trust cannot exist without love and respect and reverence. These, however, cannot again be realised in exceptional cases. They imply a character, and consequently it is to the attainment of such a character that we are led, if we have given fair-play to intelligence, by the impulse which, as we have seen, directs our whole lives, and can alone enable us to realise the end and aim to which they exclusively direct us. It is indeed true that, under the influence of selfishness and passion refusing fair-play to intel- ligence, we may allow ourselves to be seduced from the way. That, however, is not the ques- tion. For if we listen to reason, we cannot miss the way ; or, at all events, it seems impossible to maintain that there is any other tvay of procur- ing intense and permanent happiness. If, conse- quently, we allow ourselves to be seduced from that way, it must be at our peril. Nature thus tells us that we ought perpetually to follow after love, trust, and truth, as the sole means of uniting^ us with God, and by such means assuring our highest and everlasting happiness. In this assur- 132 PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. ance the perfection of the moral attributes of God is demonstrated, so far as any absolute fact is capable of demonstration. It is the voice of nature telling us under the most explicit form that God seeks our love in truth, and will recipro- cate our love in truth ; and here the a 2^riori and a posteriori arguments for His moral attributes interweave and confirm each other. If our conclusion be untrue, then the nature of man is a lie, and his unceasing desire for the most intense and permanent happiness is a lie, since that desire is by the supposition a deceitful tendency innate in our souls, impelling us at every instant to seek a gratification which it is impossible to realise, because no such gratification exists. The man who can bring himself to believe this can believe nothing else, because he repudiates the only authority for belief. He is impervious to argument, because he must have settled down into dogged a 'priori scepticism.* To him, the evidence of his * It is indeed difficult to conceive how a man under such cir- cumstances can, with any show of reason, pretend to believe in his senses. They are just feelings, with the same evidence as any other feelings, and no more. The matter, however, is not worth discussing, because, whatever they may profess in words, men in reality recognise the valid authority of all their primary feelings. They cannot help it. Hence, if any one admits the validity of mental feelings in one case, and denies it in another, because it does not suit his theory, or his prejudices, or his passions — if, for example, he recognises the legitimacy and universality of reason as applied to mathematics, and denies its legitimacy and universality as applied to morals — he must take the consequences. , PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. 1 33 senses, if he reason logically, must merely imply phenomena which warrant no conclusion, and involve no faith. We have thus a higher proof for the moral attributes of God than we have for the sym- pathies and feelings of our fellow-creatures. But it may be said, or rather it has been said, that we know the moral feelings of our fellow-crea- tures by experience, but we have no such per- sonal experience of the moral attributes of God. Those who thus argue fall into the very error, previously exposed, of assuming that we have some a priori knowledge of the intellectual and moral nature of our fellow-creatures. It is, how- ever, an utter delusion. We never saw, nor hy any of our senses perceived, either the intellect or the moral feelings of our fellow-creatures, nor have we any personal consciousness of them. We know them in the relations which we feel towards our fellow- creatures — i.e., in our sense of dependence upon them for happiness ; but this is only after we have discovered their moral qualities from their acts, precisely as we discover the moral at- tributes of God. There is not the slightest difference, therefore, in the process, except that we have a clearer conscious- ness of our dependence upon God, and more mani- fest proofs of His love, than we can have with refer- ence to our fellow-creatures. For God might have doomed us to hopeless misery. Giving us a love 134 PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. of life, He might at the same time have made every morsel of food nauseous, and every breath of air painful. But, on the contrary, He has blessed us with a thousand blessings, havino: constituted us with no one tendency or property of which the natural effect is not to produce hap- piness. Above all, He has given us an assurance in the very essence of our feelings, that if, as free- will creatures, we realise our obligations to our fellow-creatures, and to Him on earth, we shall also realise eternal glory by our full moral union with Him in the world that is to come. He who denies the moral attributes of God must therefore, as we have said, be prepared to deny the moral qualities of men; for God has prac- tically, in our experience, evidenced to us far more certainly than any of our fellow-creatures have done the existence of His moral attributes in attaching an absolute happiness to every moral feeling, which progressively increases as our moral natures continue to improve. He thus assures us, by the very testimony of our feelings, of the most intense and permanent happiness in a moral union with Himself, when our moral na- tures have attained such perfection as to be capable of thoroughly realising the relations in which intelligent beings and their Creator stand connected with each other. It seems impos- sible even to imagine a more irresistible argu- ment. It must be sound and true, unless God PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. 1 35 and nature have contrived a scheme purposely to deceive us. But though our conclusions in thus far seem indisputable, it may perhaps still be said that our argument only regards the subject under one aspect. For though it may be clear, so far as reasoning can demonstrate anything, that under the view of the subject which we have now taken God is a God of love, yet it would appear, on the other hand, that His justice is rigorous, and that a neglect of His laws must, under the very same argument, lead to misery. Now, this is neither to be denied nor doubted. A breach of law, of any kind, must of necessity incur a proportionate penalty. Unless this were the case, law would be a mockery. But let it be observed that the relations of nature, which we usually call the laws of God, are from their very perfection made to vindicate themselves. The penalty, therefore, of moral guilt is necessarily involved in the commis- sion of sin. In its very essence it implies moral suffering, partially deadened, it may be, for a time by opiates, but hecoming greater and greater as worldly emj^loyments, amiLsements, and indidgences cease to act as opiates, and we are left to the un- controlled operation of spiritual laiu.^ * It must be kept in view, that while we argne, as a matter of certainty, that under the moral law of God immorality must ultimately work out its own penalty, we do not intend to main- tain that all suffering in this world is a direct punishment of 136 PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. From natural religion we can discover no ground whatever for supposing that there are arbitrary penalties attached to a violation of the moral law. As the realisation of our moral relations both to man and to God blesses in itself both in the direct feeling and the indirect consequences, so the breach of these relations curses in itself. Not only is there no objection, therefore, which can be taken upon this account to the love of God, but there is an irresistible proof of the perfection of His love for moral excellence in a justice which necessarily flow^s from our very natures, and which we cannot avoid i^cognising as the most exquisitely adjusted that it is possible even to conceive. No doubt there are many who seem placed from circumstances in a very unfavourable position for realising moral relations, but it must be remem- bered that the realisation of moral relations de- pends upon the intention, and not on the mere extei^nal act. It wall be the intentions of such parties, therefore, in the voluntary exercise of free will, that will incur the penalty. From the very nature of the case, it is evident that their acts in immorality. In the theological sense we do not even maintain tliat it is in this world a jnniisliment of immorality at all. This subject seems excessively misunderstood, but we do not enter upon it at length, because it would necessarily lead to the in- troduction of considerations a|)pertaining exclusively to the doctrines of revelation, which we desire entirely to avoid. As has been said, the conclusion in the text is positively certain as a doctrine of natural religion, and we have here nothing farther to do with the subject. PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. 1 3/ themselves can involve no moral pain, and there- fore incur no moral penalty.* Nor, under natural religion, can we tell what may he the future posi- tion of such parties, nor what arrangements may he made when the things of time have passed away for redressing evils and compensating irre- gularities. Any knowledge on these points can be derived from a revelation only, and must be considered in relation to its other doctrines, under the condition that all such doctrines must be con- formable to the principles of natural religion, and therefore specially consistent with that love, jus- tice, and truth, which natural religion determines, beyond the possibility of rational dispute, to be attributes of the Supreme Being. It, however, will no doubt be maintained by some who are little accustomed to think about anything except the external affairs of the world, that however difficult it may be to reply to this argument, abstractly considered, yet as matter of * Man is a developing creature, both as an individual and a race. What may be tlie effect of death in the case of infants, natural religion cannot determine, because we necessarily want a knowledge of the state of their minds. But all men, however low in the scale of civilisation, are developing under a system of dicipline. Many of them, in the lowest stage of civilisation, exercise great self-control. Their fate in futurity must depend, therefore, on their efforts and intentions ; or, in other words, on the state of their minds. The higher, however, they rise in civilisation, it is obvious that they enjoy the greater advantages for rising high in spiritual excellence, and therefore for attain- ing a more elevated position, both in this world and the next. 138 PROOF OF god's moral ATTRIBUTES. fact the most moral men are not always, nor per- haps generally, the happiest. This assertion mani- festly, though tacitly, implies a theory, that the spirit of selfishness may afford greater happiness in itself than the spirit of love, and that, conse- quently, a man may be happier in repudiating all moral connection with his fellow-creatures and his God, than in loving his fellow-creatures and his God, and being beloved by them. No one, we presume, will maintain the theory in this extreme form, which, however, must necessarily be true if the theory in any form be logically defensible. In fact, that any one should maintain such a theory at all, arises from an almost voluntary, if not intentional, confusion of ideas. Men confuse the external gratification of selfishness with its inter- nal and essential character. Such external grati- fication may afford pleasure, but it cannot, from the very nature of the case, afford happiness, which arises from no external gratification, but from the nature of our feelings themselves. Pleasure is a temporary, and happiness a permanent, state. No one, therefore, could prefer pleasure to happiness, even though the pleasure were more intense than the happiness, as a matter of reason, still less where the happiness, from beginning to end, is more intense than the pleasure, which, as we have seen in the case of those who realise the love of God, must be the case. It is obvious, therefore, that where human beings satisfy them- PROOF OF GODS MORAL ATTRIBUTES. 1 39 selves with temporary pleasure at the expense of happiness — for it is quite j^ossihle that they may enjoy both — it is because they overlook their re- lationship to God, and, consequently, the happi- ness which a realisation of that relationship must secure for them. The assumption that the most moral man is not always the happiest, proceeds evidently, therefore, on a mistake, or rather a series of mistakes. It confuses pleasure with happiness, and ignores the decisive fact in the controversy. On the supposition that there is a God, omnipotent, omniscient, just, holy, merciful, and true, or, in one word, a God of love, with whom the realisation of our moral nature unites us as a father and a friend, there can be no con- troversy upon the subject. While, therefore, there is no doubt a point at which our knowledge stops, and beyond which, consequently, we cannot proceed with our argu- ment as to the divine attributes, because their perfection is higher than our mental faculties can comprehend, yet, so far as our capacities can reach, it seems equally complete and simple. It does not appear liable to any form of objection. For to rest objections on supposed facts, which are admittedly beyond our capabilities to ascertain, is absurd. It is a mere begging of the question to argue from what we do not know, and cannot know. To attain a legitimate conclusion, we must argue from what we do know, and know with 140 PROOF OF god's MORAL ATTRIBUTES. certainty. Thus arguing, it is demonstrated, if ever there was a demonstration, that the Supreme Being realises the perfection of every moral attri- bute, and hence, delighting in the exercise of these attributes by His free-will creatures, blesses these creatures by a very necessity of nature, in exact proportion to the measure in which they realise them. We have in all this a most exquisitely adjusted process; and the very perfection of its beauty, in the love of moral excellence which it displays, seems to direct us of itself to the love and the wisdom of the great First Cause. CHAPTER IV. RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. GOD HAS CREATED US FOR THE PURPOSE OF SEEKING INTENSE AND PERMANENT HAPPINESS, THROUGH VICTORY IN THE STRUGGLE BETWIXT SELFISHNESS AND LOVE— THIS CONSIDERA- TION NECESSARILY OPENS TO US THE PROSPECT OF AN ; IMMORTALITY — THE VOICE OF NATURE HEARD IN THOSE LAWS WHICH ASSURE US OF AN IMMORTALITY — THIS IMMORTALITY WILL BE INTENSELY AND PERMANENTLY HAPPY TO THOSE WHO SEEK IT IN THE WAY WHICH NATURE INDICATES- SUCH HAPPI- NESS INVOLVED IN TRUST IN GOD— THIS TRUST IMPERFECT OR WANTING IN ALL MEN UNDER ORDINARY CIRCUMSTANCES— MODE IN WHICH NATURE INDICATES THAT IT IS TO BE SOUGHT. Having ascertained the perfect moral excellence of the Supreme Being, in so far as the extent of our knowledge enables us to reach, we have next to de- termine the relationship which ought to be realised betwixt Him and the creatures whom He has en- dowed with intelligent and moral natures. This relationship is substantively made manifest under those principles which have been already ascer- tained. For we have found that men are created with only one object in view. They seek intense and permanent happiness, and they are unceas- 142 RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. ingly engaged in seeking it. This object can only be attained by the assurance of God's protection as our Father and our Friend. Assured of this, the prospect of eternal glory opens to us. Our very desire of living gives us indeed some belief of immortality, and, in connection with it, some hope of intense and permanent happiness. We have the same belief in immortality, naturally, as we have in the continuance of life for a time upon earth, and it is founded on the same evidence. There is no more ground for believing that we shall live for a day, than there is for believing that we shall live for ever. Both beliefs proceed from our desire of life, and our consciousness that this desire is the voice of nature speaking to us. Ac- cordingly, there is no proof whatever that we shall live in the body for another day. Our belief of continued life applies really to the mind. We rarely think of the matter, indeed, under this aspect, because we rarely attempt to analyse the more subtle states of our minds. It is no less true, however, on that account. That other people live in the body under the same circumstances appar- ently as ourselves, is no rational evidence that w^e shall continue to live in the body likewise. On the contrary, it frequently happens that men, under apparently the most favourable circum- stances, are suddenly and unexpectedly summoned to the grave. Our hope of continued life really rests on a conviction which has no limit in time, RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. I43 and which cannot almost in the most desperate state of disease be shaken away. Perhaps the phenomenon is most strikingly manifest in chil- dren. They have no idea of dying ; and indeed, through our whole lives, the fear of death re- quires to be forced upon us. Of itself, it never seems to occur to any one, and so far is our experience with regard to others from leading us to believe that our lives will be prolonged, that it is only our experience with respect to others which compels us to believe that we will die. A belief that we will continue to live, is our natural and normal state, and specially any- thing like annihilation is a possibility perfectly abhorrent to our feelings. This manifestly implies that there is happiness in the very act of living, and consequently, from the nature of the case, a desire of continuing to live. In this, again, we have the voice of nature telling us that by using the suitable means we might live for ever, seeing that the annihilation or death of the soul must at once put an end to permanence of happiness by closing existence itself * * We are quite aware that many believe the doctrine of an immortality to be discoverable from revelation only. We trust that the argument in the text will show this to be a complete mistake ; and a most pernicious mistake it is, though we believe it has been encouraged from excellent motives. No- thing can show more clearly that truth, and truth alone, ought to be our object in all investigations. If the laws of nature are to be believed, the doctrine of an immortality, as we trust has been proved in this chapter, is demonstrable under natural 144 RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. Xor is tlie conclusion less certain if drawn from a consideration of the apparent design of the nniverse. All things are therein arranged, so far as we can discover, under a scheme of the most perfect wisdom. Every creature has its distinct part to perform, and adequate means are provided for the realisation of the natural tendencies, and the gratification of the primary desires of each. Over the whole, man has been appointed, in re- spect of his intelligence, as the lord and sovereign. All things are subjected to him, and he is im- pelled by a desire which never leaves him to improve continually his position, in endeavouring to secure the most intense and permanent happi- ness. But if this desire be a delusion and a lie ; if human beings be destined to perish with their bodies ; if, like moths, they are to move a brief moment upon the earth, and then to disappear for ever ; if, notwithstanding the desire which inces- santly impels them to pursue intense and perma- nent happiness, they are, do what they may, con- demned to be contented with those wretched scraps of pleasure which this world can afford, mixed with the sorrows and sufferings of which all human beings participate, — then never was there a more perfect burlesque than creation. It is a system splendidly contrived and exqui- religion. What Scripture has really done in "bringing life and immortality to light," it is not of course our business to discuss here. RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. I45 sitely adjusted up to a certain point, but left imperfect and unfinished. Xature becomes a ludicrous and monstrous absurdity, which em- ploys the most gigantic machinery to work out absolutely nothing. The constitution of the hu- man mind presents a magnificent theory, com- plete and harmonious, and true in all its parts, until it comes to a result, and then all is found to be a falsehood and a mockery. The thing is impossible. AVe cannot believe that such an anomaly could have existed in nature, apart from every consideration of a God. ^Yhen, however, we know in addition that there is a God, omnipo- tent and omniscient, and whom our very desire for intense and permanent happiness, in connec- tion with the position which we occupy and the relations in which we feel ourselves to exist, proves to be a God endued with every moral excellence, our conclusion becomes a matter of feeling as well as of intellect. In truth, we have all the evidence which is possible. As we have seen, it is the very same evidence on which we conclude in every case where we deem our conclusions the most certain. It is the formal assurance of our natures ; and if we be deceived by that assurance, there can to us be no such thing as truth. Hence it appears that the very same argument Avhich assures eternal life to those who seek it in the way which God has provided, assures also intense, or at all events growing and permanent, K 146 RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. happiness to tliose who seek it in like manner. In fact, the one conclusion is evidently involved in the other. For it is the desire for such happiness, as the never-ceasing object of our aspirations, which is the voice of nature assuring us that it is attain- able. If, however, the voice of nature be worthy of any confidence at all, it niust be worthy of confidence in a case where it not only never ceases to speak, but absolutely impels us to struggle every moment after an object which it thus declares to be the end and consummation of our existence. In this, consequently, we have our relationship to God clearly developed, since this, as we have already seen, can only be attained by trust in God. If we thoroughly trust in Him, then, as invariably happens with respect to the laws of God, the law, in its oion luorking, vindicates itself. We are blessed, in other words, in the very nature of our feeling. Fear vanishes, suffer- ing is soothed, anxieties are annihilated. All the events of our history become sources of happiness. We have peace here, and in that peace a foretaste of intense and permanent glory for ever. The relationship in which we stand to God, therefore, implies trust in Him, as the only means of securing the ultimate end of our being. This follows, as we have seen, from a consideration of that end itself, but is no less manifest from the very essential character of the relation which must exist between creatures and their Creator. RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. 1 4/ From the very nature of the case, we are bound to put our trust in Him, on account of the many blessings which He has abeady bestowed upon us, on account of the farther blessings which He has put it into our power to procure, and on account of that entire dependence in which we have lived, and must ever live, upon Him, for anything which we can possibly desire or enjoy. To suppose that He will deceive us, that He will still withhold from us those gifts which He has promised in the very constitution of our natures, is not only to repudiate the authority of reason, but to exhibit the vilest spirit of ingratitude. Such ingratitude involves the grossest possible breach of the laws of our spiritual natures, and thus will necessarily involve its penalty in itself. It is an infinitely greater breach of those laws than any violation of those moral relations which bind us to our fellow-men. A breach of either must lead to misery, though we may deaden our sense of it for a time by plunging into the business and amuse- ments of life. Such misery, however, must ulti- mately overbear all our opiates, and will be intense in proportion to the degree in which the laws of our natures are violated. This we must believe, if we believe the teaching of nature at all. We cannot evade the conclusion except under the assumption either that trust in a Supreme Power will not secure our happiness, which is a contradiction in terms, or else that intense and permanent happi- 148 RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. ness is not our only object in life, which is incon- sistent with every man's personal experience. The only remaining question, therefore, regards the mode in which such trust in God is to be re- alised, and this is manifest from what has been already said. It is not to be attained by any direct effort of will, because the will is itself only practically determined in the case of a change of character through the gradual operation of motives. The ordinary condition of man is consciously known to himself as involving separation from God, and, consequently, a want of confidence in Him. This is proved, as we have already seen, in our constant experience. If we be exposed to dan- ger, or subjected to suffering, from which a relation or friend, or indeed any fellow-creature whom we believe attached to us, can relieve us, we are at once full of hope, and generally feel no distrust in them whatever. But if we are exposed to danger or subjected to suffering from which no fellow- creature can relieve us, no one will pretend to say that by an effort of will he can, or that he does, repose the same confidence in his God. In fact, under ordinary circumstances, we repose more confidence even on the aid of a neighbour or ac- quaintance than on Him whom we call our Creator, our Preserver, our most bountiful Benefactor. Our professed confidence in God, it hence appears, is a matter of only half faith. We have a sort of intellectual conviction of our relationship to Him, RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. I49 but not a felt assurance of His love. Thus it is that the mass of human beings are in a perpet- ual state of anxiety as to their interests here, and, when they allow themselves to think upon the subject, as to their welfare hereafter. Did they trust thoroughly in God as a matter of feeling as well as a matter of intellect, there could be no such anxiety. How could that man be anxious as to his welfare either in time or in eternity, who knows and feels that the Supreme Being is his Father and his Friend? But we do not know and feel that God is our Father and our Friend, because we do not seek such assurance by the only means which He has provided for procuring it, either with respect to other intelligent crea- tures or with respect to Himself. Trust in God, like trust in our fellow-creatures, can only be the result of manifesting our love towards Him in our conduct. This alone can constitute our practical relationship with Him, as it can alone constitute our practical relationship with them. In order to trust in Him, we must therefore be perpetually endeavouring to realise a sense of His presence in every event of life, until we become conscious that in each He is blessing o us. As we subdue our selfish desires, and delight more and more in a spirit of love, a trust in Him who is the Framer of the laws of nature will, under the operation of those laws, necessarily grow upon us. We thus feel that we are becoming more and I50 RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. more tlioronglily identified with the attributes of God, and more and more thoroughly the objects of His protecting care. Trust in God becomes an essential portion of our mental condition. We learn to trace the action of His providence in the course of our history. We discover all things working for our happiness, under processes so complicated that reason itself proves such results never could have taken place under the ordinary arrangements of providence. We no longer care for the things of the world, save in a very subor- dinate degree, for their own sakes. We only con- sider them important as means of improving our moral dispositions, and drawing us nearer and nearer to God. The kind of happiness which we seek is, in so far, altogether changed. We still enjoy the pleasures of life, and even more intensely than before, because they are no longer embittered by fears of that which is to come. Our great hap- piness, however, is sought within us in the growth of the spirit of love, which we feel to depend on no external thing, but to bless us in itself, and in a perfect union with our Father and our God. This is, it will be perceived, the growing attain- ment of the unceasing object of our lives. It is heaven begun on earth, and consequently involves in its very nature a foretaste of the glories of eternity. That all this is absolutely certain as matter of mere abstract reasoning, seems to admit of no dis- RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN. 151 pute. But in truth it is frequently realised in actual life, and to a greater or less extent pro- bably in far more instances than is usually ima- gined. Whether it can be realised, however, by the mere use of ordinary means, or without a re- velation, is a different question, with which here we have no connection whatever. All that we have to determine here is the nature of the relation betwixt God and man as Creator and creature, and the necessary result of that relation, if it be real- ised ; and so far as that is concerned, the argument seems to be complete. The conclusion wdll admit neither of logical doubt nor difference, if it be ad- mitted that the law^s of nature, and the voice of nature speaking in those laws, are to be believed, and ought to be obeyed. PART II. ETHICS, OR THE SCIENCE OF MORALS ETHICS, OR THE SCIENCE OF MO R ALS. INTRODUCTION. THE THEORY OF THE RELATION BETWIXT GOD AND MAN APPLIED TO HUMAN CIRCUMSTANCES — SUBJECT LITTLE UNDERSTOOD — DEFINI- TION OF ETHICS — THE VARIOUS MORAL THEORIES THAT HAVE BEEN PROPOSED, AND WHY UNSATISFACTORY. We have already seen that the grand object of human life is, the attainment of the most intense and permanent happiness which it is possible to realise. This happiness we are engaged in seek- ing, not now and then, but at every instant. Such is the constitution of our minds, that we cannot for a moment lose sight of it, nor can our attention even for a moment be directed to anything else. We hear in this the voice of nature telling us that such happiness can be procured, for nature must manifestly be a delusion and a lie, if she compel us by a law of our minds to seek perpetually that 156 ETHICS. which is not to be found. It is however true, that different persons follow this object in very different ways. Nor need it be said, when we look around us on the world, that multitudes mistake the means by which happiness, and still more the highest and most permanent happiness, is to be attained. So far it is manifest, even on the most superficial consideration, that happiness must originate either in the gratification of selfish- ness, or in the enjoyment derivable from realising and reciprocating a spirit of love. There is indeed NO OTHER SOURCE OF HAPPINESS POSSIBLE. Now, in our present condition, those two sources of happiness, selfishness and love, are perpetually contending against each other. Each of them has a certain power over the human mind, but each strives to gain the victory; and it is indisputably true, that under ordinary circumstances selfish- ness has the advantage. The process under which this usually occurs has been described in a former chapter. Still the spirit of love is not wholly eradicated. A certain amount of affection to- wards relatives and friends, in whom we put con- fidence, is left to exercise an influence. We find this exhibited even among the most degraded and worthless of our race. It is indeed essential to any measure of happiness that we should love and be loved, so that the very lowest forms of selfish- ness do not imply a wish that love should cease. To love and to be loved more or less by those on INTRODUCTION. 15/ whom we depend, or at least to believe tliat we so love and are loved, seems essential to the very endurance of existence. Yet mutual love, to the very limited extent which could thus be gener- ated, would hardly serve the purposes of individ- uals, or be sufficient to keep society together. Hence many directly or indirectly profess a kind- ness to their fellow-creatures which they do not really feel, or at all events do not feel to the ex- tent that they profess it. Nor is this in every case hypocrisy. In many instances it is a sort of self-deception, resulting from the power which a sense of self-interest exercises in concealing from human beings the operations and condition of their own minds. In this way there is an arti- ficial morality generated, which serves the purpose of founding hollow friendships, and thus binding society together by ties which, though weak in themselves, are yet sufficiently strong to prevent it from falling altogether in pieces. Now there is no denying, however unsatisfac- tory it may appear, and the cause of it will be ex- plained in detail afterwards, that this is the moral condition in which human beings usually exist, and constitutes almost the only morality by luhicJi a multitude of them are influenced. Yet people feel that the very necessity of thus substituting false professions of love in the place of real love, for the purpose of holding society together, proves, apart from all other considerations, that there is 158 ETHICS. something wrong and anomalous about the moral condition of our race. They have it pressed on them, as manifest from the very character of the fact, that a manner of life cannot be conformable to the laws of nature which makes the relations in which we stand to our fellow - creatures a mockery, and the realisation of those relations a living lie. Thus there is necessarily impressed upon the human mind a tendency to seek some higher morality, by which the laws of nature may be reconciled among themselves, and that truth and consistency established amongst them, with respect to the relations of intelligent beings, by which they are distinguished in regard to the re- lations of physical things. We arrive at the same conclusion, moreover, by another and equally convincing process. Men, as we have seen, quickly discover that mere selfish pleasures are in no way sufficient for realising our desire of permanent and intense happiness. Our enjoyment derived from them is not only of short duration, but after a brief indulgence becomes less and less in degree. Depending on external causes, they are farther liable to many contingencies. Ac- cident, sickness, the death of friends, may not only modify the gratification which selfish plea- sures afford, but may sweep it away altogether. The happiness generated by a spirit of love, on the contrary, depends on no external cause, but consists in the disposition of our minds, and INTRODUCTION. 1 59 therefore cannot be taken away. It grows, indeed, as we suffer and are afflicted under a process al- ready outlined, till it becomes a character. As the disposition, moreover, increases in degree, the hap- piness augments in intensity; nor is there almost any limit, so far as we can discover, by which it is to be circumscribed. The conclusion, therefore, irresistibly follows, that there must be means under which this disposition or character may be fostered, so as to give it the control of selfishness. This is the only mode under which that wdiich we feel to be the unceasing end and object of our natures can be realised. It is not, however, therein implied that our selfish enjoyments are to be re- pudiated, but only that they are to be indulged under subordination to the spirit of love, that thus they may be intensified in their combina- tion with higher gratifications, and a character formed implying in itself a happiness which, as depending on no external thing, contingencies cannot modify, nor circumstances impair. All this has been already indicated under our argument for the moral attributes of God, which, it will be perceived, is intimately connected, or rather interwoven, with the present subject. The moral attributes of God are indeed mainly proved from the moral condition of man, who, having been placed in this world with an unceasing de- sire for intense and permanent happiness, comes to find from experience that there can be no l6o ETHICS. approximation to such happiness unless it be in a moral excellence uniting us through the spirit of love with our fellow-creatures and our God. Keep- ing this in view, as connected with the preliminary remarks contained in this chapter, we define moral or ethical science to be " the science which teaches intelligent beings the laws that must regulate their feelings, and through those feelings their conduct, so as to secure their own highest happi- ness, as well as the highest happiness of others." The definition indicates the immense importance of the subject ; and yet we may venture to say that there is no subject less understood, — at all events, in so far as its principles are concerned. No doubt some sort of a moral system is professed by all men, but nothing can be more unsatisfactory than such systems usually are ; and indeed there is not one of them to which grave objections may not be taken, or which will in any full degree explain the phenomena. In fact, this science of ethics is in such a state of confusion, in so far as its principles are concerned, as hardly to leave a claim to it of deserving the name of a science. Of this every one may readily satisfy himself, who thinks it worth while to investigate the grounds on which moral principles are at present rested, and the obligations under which they are held to be enforced. Nor is it almost possible to over-estimate the disastrous consequences of such a condition of IMTRODUCTION. l6l things, especially in the present state of society. \Ye attribute to it not a little of the immorality and irreligion of the present age. It is indeed true, that even where the philosophy of a science is unknown, necessity may compel some practical observance of its details. It is, however, equally true that when men have discovered their ignor- ance of its philosophy, such observance will be comparatively imperfect and desultory; and this must specially be the case with respect to a science wliich has less regard to external acts than to the state of mind in Avhich such acts have their origin, and where, consequently, the obliga- tion to a practical observance of its details must depend in a great measure on a clear apprehension of its principles. Hence we have perhaps the primary cause of the unsatisfactory character of these various systems of ethics which have hither- to been proposed. From a misapprehension of the nature of moral science, they look rather to exter- nal acts than to the state of mind which generates them. They give us rules of conduct rather than determine what ought to be our feelings, apart from which our mere acts neither fulfil the moral law, nor consequently realise the object on account of which the moral law has been prescribed to us. This will appear by an investigation of the char- acter of those systems, the principles of which we shall endeavour as clearly as possible to ascertain and explain. L l62 ETHICS. Among the ancients, morality never assumed anything like the character of a true science, be- cause their religious theories involved considera- tions absolutely inconsistent with their moral speculations. There was truth, no doubt, in the moral theories of all the Greek spiritual philoso- phers, Platonists, Peripatetics, Stoics, and even Epicureans ; but their ignorance of the relations of the Supreme Being to man prevented the pos- sibility of their discovering how these theories — or rather that theory, for it was very much the same in essence — could be practically realised. Hence an additional reason for the superiority of moral theories since the publication of Christianity, though none of them has made our knowledge of the relation betwixt God and man suggested to us by Christianity sufficiently available, as will appear from our subsequent argument. The Jews, indeed, among the ancients, had the details of a moral system singularly excellent for their special circumstances, and no doubt a system resting on perfect principles might have been de- duced from the theory of the Jewish dispensation. This, however, was never done. The Jews rested the obligation of their moral law on revealed com- mand, as enforced by immediate 'jpenalties. They were consequently at all times liable to error, even with respect to the details of morality, when- ever questions arose which the revealed law had not precisely determined. INTRODUCTION. 163 The heathen, however, were in a much worse position. They were conscions of the necessity of some kind of morality as essential to the welfare, if not the very existence, of human society. But they had no correct idea even of its details, and still less any clear notion of its principles, as hav- ing no conception of the real grounds of its obliga- tion. The Jews, as we have said, rested their morality on the commands of God revealed in His word, and enforced by immediate penalties in case of disobedience. But the heathen had no such re- velation, and their knowledge of natural religion was too limited to enable them accurately to deter- mine either the details or the principles of morality for themselves. Since the publication of Christianity, the de- tails of morality, using the word in a general sense, have been better understood than they were even by the Jews ; because Christianity has given us broader moral precepts, and these have been more or less borrowed from it, even by the very persons who have questioned its authority. But Christianity, while it gives us broader and more general precepts of moralty, and indicates unmistakably the principles on which they rest, instead of appealing to authority, has appealed to natural religion for their truth, and for a determi- nation of the primary grounds of their obligation. Indeed, Christianity rests its claim to divine au- thority in no small measure on the perfect uni- 1 64 ETHICS. formity of its moral system with the conclusions which natural religion — or, in other words, enlight- ened reason — enables us to ascertain. It has thus left us— assisted, no doubt, by the doctrines which the Gospel has revealed — to work out the great problem which concerns the foundation of morals for ourselves. Hence the wide differences which still prevail even among Christians, both as to the motives sanctioning morality and the primary grounds of its obligation. The lowest form of an ethical theory is that which rests the obligations of morality on selfish- ness. The necessity of assisting and benefiting others for the sake of securing their assistance and support for ourselves, is discovered, we are told, from the position which human beings oc- cupy in the world. According to this theory, there is no such feeling as love or affection towards any of our fellow- creatures, and therefore all expression of such love and affection must be regarded as falsehood and hypocrisy. Morality is therefore merely another name for utility; and hence the system, if system it can be called, is denominated utilitarianism. There is no such emotion as we imagine binds a mother to her child, a brother to a sister, or a friend to a friend. It is almost unnecessary to say that this is directly inconsistent with human feeling, which becomes more manifest from the consideration that a mere prospect of utility could have no effect INTRODUCTION. 165 whatever in generating a feeling of love or affec- tion. A man may load ns with gifts, and yet if we believe that they are bestowed from selfish and interested motives, we shall realise none of that love towards him which we feel towards those who can be of no worldly use to us whatever, but by whom we believe our love to be recipro- cated. It is farther of consequence to observe, because it has been singularly overlooked, that the theory of selfishness is in its very form impossible and self-contradictory. For as all profess to entertain feelings of affection and kindness towards each other, the theory implies that we attempt to cheat each other into acts of mutual utility by pretend- ing to a feeling to which, under the assumption, none of 2cs could attach any sense whatever.^ The expression of the theory manifestly involves the existence of this very feeling which it professes to deny. If there be such a feeling as love, affec- tion, or benevolence in the human mind, to hoiu- ever sinall an extent it may exist, then this theory * Although it is manifestly certain that this could not he the case unless both parties had some consciousness of the feel- ing to which one of them pretended, yet it is true that many make the consciousness of this feeling available iov pretending to a much greater love than they actually realise. Hence the origin of hypocrisy, which being the means that we use to secure the love of others by pretending to a false measure of love for them, frequently becomes a tendency, which ultimately unconsciously influences us. l66 ETHICS. of selfishness is at an end. If there be no such feeling, then the word can have no meaning, and the nse of it could convey no idea. A theory, indeed, which makes human beings pretend to be actuated by a feeling which no human being ever did, or will, or can feel, and assumes that others may be induced to believe themselves actuated by such a feeling, is so mani- festly absurd, that it never could have been pro- posed, had it not been necessary as part of a broader system. It is in truth, an essential por- tion of the grossest form of materialism. Under such a form of materialism there can be no mutual love. For, that material mechanism, in the only sense which we can attach to the word material, could work forth absolute thoughts and emotions, is indeed a monstrous hypothesis ; but that it should work forth feelings connecting us relatively with others in a spirit of love, so that we feel actual happiness in their happiness, and actual suffering in their sorrow, implies an extravagance of h}^o- thesis which is repudiated even by the grossest materialists from their sense of its utter impossi- bility. There is, indeed, in this constitution of indirect relationships, such an evident exhibition of spiritual design and intelligent purpose, that to attribute it to any cause except intelligence, is felt too strongly to violate every principle of reason for any sane man to assert it. Hence the theory of selfishness or utilitarianism, and hence INTRODUCTION. 167 its adoption as a matter of necessity by all who avow the grossest form of materialism. It has already been demonstrated, however, that the grossest form of materialism is not only to us impossible, but that to us the very terms in which it is expressed are unintelligible. Pure utilitarianism, therefore, it will now, we trust, be admitted, is to us an impossible theory also. That men are influenced by a spirit of selfishness to a laro^e extent, is indeed too true ; but that they are also influenced by a spirit of love, is as certain as that they exist. A conviction of this is interwoven with the whole character and con- ditions and habits of human life. It is as sure- ly though less deeply stamped on the heart of the ruffian and the murderer, as on that of the fond mother and the affectionate child. The very selfish philosopher himself repudiates the selfish theory in practice and in private life, for he feels that of all curses the practical realisation of his own theory would be the greatest, leaving him a sad and solitary outcast, without a friend, without a relation, and without a God. There is another form of this theory, which, re- jecting the character of a mere system of utili- tarianism, and admitting the existence of mutual feelings of love, tests morality by its effect in generating the highest happiness, under the as- sumption that men are benevolent as well as selfish. This theory, therefore, assumes the exist- l68 ETHICS. tence of moral feelings in the human mind, and concludes that the highest happiness results from gratif}dng both social and selfish propensities, thus combining the theory of utilitarianism, which all admit to be in so far true, with the additional assumption of moral tendencies. The only differ- ence betwixt this theory and that of utilitarianism is the introduction of the new element of mutual love, which also expresses a still further amount of truth, and gives the theory a plausibility which mere utilitarianism could never realise. Although true, however, so far as it goes, the theory is yet so deficient as human beings actually exist, that by a circuituous process it brings us back nearly to the purely selfish theory again, whenever its influence begins to be of some practical import- ance. For selfishness, or a desire of our own personal gratification, is so much stronger than our benevolent or moral feelings, while the argu- ment is limited to the relationship of human beings among themselves, that without some addi- tional motive these last are superseded, if not crushed, whenever our personal interests or pas- sions are fairly brought into competition with them. In other words, as human beings actually exist, our benevolent or moral feelings are never strong enough to vindicate themselves, except where they are so interwoven with our selfishness, that we cannot violate the one without sacrificing the other. The cause of this manifestly lies in INTRODUCTION. 1 69 the fact that we do not love our fellow-creatures as we love ourselves ; and consequently, when- ever the promotion of their happiness counter- acts the gratification of our own desires, unless some other motive he hrought to bear, their happi- ness is necessarily sacrificed to what we believe, whether truly or falsely, to be our own. Our moral feelings, therefore, will be sufficient to keep us right, up to the point that they do not seriously interfere with our own desires, or what we be- lieve to be our worldly interests, but beyond that they must be swept away under the action of the stronger power which is brought to bear upon us. Whenever any one appears, therefore, to restrain himself beyond these bounds, imless there he some other motive influencing him, it must, according to this theory, be an act of hypocrisy ; because, according to it, the love of others could only be an operative motive, so far as it did not interfere with what we believe to be a higher happiness. In this way a man would not appropriate the pro- perty of another, when, in addition to the pain which he might feel in injuring his fellow-crea- ture, there was such a risk of detection as might expose his prospective interests to serious detri- ment. But, on the other hand, if he had the means of appropriating a large amount belonging to another, without risk of detection, he would under this theory be morally hound to avail him- I/O ETHICS. self of the opportunity, supposing him to expect more happiness from the possession of the pro- perty, than he would suffer pain from the injury which he had done to his fellow-creature. In like manner, a man who, in addition to the pain which he might inflict on a fellow-creature, foresaw im- minent danger of personal loss and suffering to himself, would in any given case be induced to re- strain his licentious passions. But if he foresaw little or no risk of idterior loss or suffering to himself, it would be his moral duty, under this theory, to act as a seducer whenever his passions vehemently impelled him ; and this just to the extent that his hope of immediate gratification should overbalance any pain which might arise from the possible injury that might be sustained by his intended victim. Even under this modified theory of selfishness, therefore, it is evident, as has been said, that appa- rent self-restraint could only be hypocrisy, where a man believed that from any act which he had it in his power to realise he could derive greater happiness than he would suffer pain by refrain- ing from realising it. He must inevitably in such a case be determined to self-restraint by the fore- sight of some evil consequence specially known to himself. As men actually exist, this is practically, there- fore, almost as much a selfish theory as the former. Yet, as has been said, it is theoretically INTRODUCTION. I/I nearer the trutli, as admitting the element of mutual love, which the purely selfish theory re- pudiates, and which a materialist can never pos- sibly allow. It is therefore also deficient, though in a lesser degree, as requiring still a farther element to give it efficient practical power. Deficient as it undoubtedly is, however, experi- ence too truly proves that it is practically the main theory which, consciously or unconsciously, regulates the conduct of a great proportion of the human race. We say the main theory, because that all men are further influenced by another principle will be found to be certain, although it is too often unconsciously, and to a very limited extent. It is only necessary to add, that this theory is further deficient, as being altogether incapable, even were it fully realised hy moi loving their fellow-creattires as they love themselves, of pro- curing us that intense and permanent happiness which is the great object of our lives. It cannot, therefore, be true to the laws of nature in their full import This subject, however, will be sub- sequently illustrated in detail. There is still another form of the selfish theory proposed, which originates in very different causes. It is the theory of Paley, who considers "ever- lasting happiness " to be the motive inducing men to be virtuous. Now we shall subseqently show that in a certain sense this is true, but it is not 1/2 ETHICS. true under the sense in which the words are em- ployed by Paley; for Paley means by " everlasting happiness " some form of arhitrary happiness to be realised in a future state of existence. Hence, while he investigates the comparative utility of actions as bearing on the general welfare, he strangely enough disregards our present spiritual happiness as a motive altogether. In fact, he does not consider morality to consist in a state of feeling, but in acts exclusively. He expressly defines virtue to be " the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness." Paley's moral philo- sophy, consequently, is not really moral philo- sophy, but a system of casuistry nearly allied to jurisprudence, and which, though generally laying down true rules, yet rests on no definite principles. After innumerable distinctions, and divisions, and subdivisions, and limitations of subdivisions, it degenerates into a mere investigation of the par- ticulars which, on the whole, are best calculated to promote or to injure the temporal interests of mankind. In this investigation there is much acuteness displayed, but even as a system of casuistry, which he confuses with moral philo- sophy, it is exceedingly imperfect. There is the absurdity further involved in this theory, that every act would be immoral, even when proceeding from the moral principle of love, unless it were done for the sake of an arbitrary "happiness." INTRODUCTION. 1/3 Now this is subverting the principles of morality. It is absolutely reversing the truth, for if morality do not originate in the spirit of love, it must originate in the spirit of selfishness. We have here something worse, therefore, than a confusion of principles — we have practically a denial of the feeling of love altogether as the motive of moral conduct, and a substitution of selfishness in its place. Our intense and permanent happiness would be the result of external and arbitrary, instead of internal and essential, causes. Morality would thus be the law of an inferior being, not of the Supreme God, whose laws, originating in the arrangements of perfect wisdom, must be such as necessarily to vindicate themselves. It is not, moreover, the least objectionable peculiarity of this theory, that while it mainly rests on Christianity as teaching us " the will of God," and assuring us of " a future state of re- wards and punishments," it yet substantially cuts up the most important evidences of Christianity at the roots. For the evidences of Christianity mainly consist in the identity of its moral system with the morality taught by natural religion. But if morality itself can only be known from Chris- tianity, and its effective motive can only be dis- covered there, then it follows that the appeal which Christianity makes to its morality in evi- dence of its truth, must be merely an argument in a circle, and the whole weight of what are usually 174 ETHICS. called the internal evidences of Christianity is annihilated. Farther, if we have no feeling of moral approba- tion, which it is impossible that we can have if onr only motive to morality arise from the pro- spect of arbitrary future happiness, then it is difficult to conceive how we can prove the moral attributes of the Supreme Being at all. We must in such a case assume that we are created in a moral condition different from the moral nature of the Supreme Being, and under such an assump- tion a mass of difficulties crowd in upon us, not only with respect to the moral attributes of God, but with respect to God's relation to man, which there seems no means of obviating. Granting, as Paley maintains in his ' IsTatural Theology,' that " in a vast plurality of instances, in which con- trivance is perceived, the design of the contri- vance is beneficial," this would not prove the moral attributes of God. It would not even prove Him to be perfectly benevolent ; for it is perfectly certain, as matter of experience, that however much happiness there may be in our world, there is also an enormous amount of suffer- ing, while such suffering falls not unfrequently upon those who seem least to deserve it. Such an argument, therefore, assuming the omnipo- tence of God, can only prove His benevolence to the extent that the happiness existing in the world may exceed the misery. Apart, however. INTRODUCTION. 175 from the pleasure derivable from the conscious- ness and exercise of moral feeling, to which Paley does not even allude in this chapter on the good- ness of God, it is a very questionable matter whether happiness or misery in this world will be found to preponderate. During the great pro- portion of life, apart from moral feeling, men seem rather to endure existence than anything else. The rest of our lives, in a large number of cases, may be pretty equally divided between trouble and enjoyment. In one word, Paley 's theory of morals is in principle very nearly identical with that of the Mohammedans, and hence a Mohammedan would not object to his definition of virtue. They recom- mend strict morality in this world, on the ground that it will lead to the most exquisite sensual en- joyment in the world to come, and thus actually deteriorate moral feeling by resting it on a false principle. They thereby fix the attention on an immoral, or at all events a mere physical, enjoy- ment hereafter, and thus necessarily detract from the excellence and inherent blessedness of the disposition which is to procure it ; or rather they make morality consist in the mere act, and thus annihilate the inherent excellence and blessedness of the disposition altogether. Paley in like manner recommends morality on the ground that it will lead to some arbitrary enjoyment hereafter, with- out telling us of what hind, and thus his theory 1/6 ETHICS. would weaken morality by withdrawing attention from that spirit of love which constitutes the essence of morality, and the true source of the highest human happiness, wherever we may he, and consequently would not only subvert the evi- dences, but directly contradict the principles, of Christianity. Whilst, however, these theories attributing the origin of morality to selfishness are thus mani- festly insufficient and unsatisfactory, it is not to be supposed that any of them is entirely devoid of truth. There can be no doubt that even self- ishness, in the grossest sense, often procures its gratification through the observance of moral con- duct ; and it is certain that, apart from any kind of practical morality, human society could not be held together. The lowest theory of selfishness would therefore, to a certain extent, explain the phenomena of the moral world. Men would soon discover from experience that they could not exist even as a race, or at all events that they could only exist as wild beasts, keeping away from each other as much as possible, without some kind of morality. But it would be a morality limited by the narrowest bounds ; and it seems very doubtful if, under a purely selfish system, mothers could even be induced for years to nour- ish and care for their children. What might be true of creatures regulated by unintelligent in- stinct, would by no means necessarily hold good INTRODUCTION. 1/7 with respect to beings, among whom instinct is superseded by a cold and utterly selfish intelli- gence. In the case of intelligent beings nothing save a feeling of the most devoted love, inter- woven with a sense of duty, can account for such a phenomenon. At all events, there could be no mutual kindness among human beings, no truth, no real sociality even, or common sympathy, since it would be felt that every sort of friendly com- munication was a mere form of hypocrisy, and that there was only needed sufficient temptation and opportunity for individuals to plunder, de- fraud, and, if it could serve their purpose, to murder one another. No doubt, the theory of a certain degTce of mu- tual love combined with selfishness constitutes a wide step in advance. It implies a certain meas- ure of common sympathy and mutual confidence, but in the actual condition of our race there would still be a great deficiency of motive. The power of selfishness would still overbear the in- fluence of love, and no possible means could exist under which the harmony of the spiritual laws of our natures could be organised, or the grand ob- ject of our aspiration in the attainment of intense and permanent happiness could be secured and realised. If, again, this demi-selfish theory were still far- ther modified as in that of Paley, so that moral- ity were made to depend on authoritative laws M 1/8 ETHICS. sanctioned by the assurance of arbitrary rewards and punishments in a future life, it would no doubt still more effectually tell upon human con- duct. But the principle would be equally want- ing. It would in thus far be the selfish and not the benevolent tendency of our natures which would be strengthened. It would not, therefore, be a really higher morality which would be gen- erated, but a series of external acts imitating its results. This is indeed the moral theory, and the moral condition, as has been indicated, of a great proportion even of the Christian world. We know it in our practical experience. As we have seen, it is literally the theory of Mohammedanism somewhat purified of its grossness. It implies an utter misconception of the true theory of morals. The theory which approximates most closely to those now considered, is that of Adam Smith in his able and interesting work on the ' Theory of Moral Sentiments.' It may be expressed in a few words. Smith thinks that our love for others is not an absolute state of mind at all, but originat- ed in our imagining other people's position to be our own, and thus sympathising with them, as if their joys were actually our joys, and their suf- ferings actually our sufferings. Sympathy, ac- cording to this theory, is a kind of delusion, under which for the time we unconsciously identify our- selves with others. Love thus becomes a sort of imaginary selfishness. It is indirectly a feeling INTRODUCTION. 1 79 for ourselves. Consequently, when we sympathise with and do good to others, we are really in imagination feeling for and doing good to our- selves. This form of selfishness is altogether dif- ferent from that which is implied in any of the theories formerly mentioned. If we do and must, from the constitution of our natures, sympathise with and feel for others, the mode in which such sympathy or feeling originates is of little conse- quence. Indeed, to feel with and for others, as if they were in some sense a portion of our own personal existence, appears to identify them with ourselves almost by a closer connection than if we felt with and for them absolutely and directly. Nor can there be any doubt that to a certain extent the theory is true. The transference, as it were, of other people's feelings to ourselves, is a phenomenon of which we are all occasionally con- scious. It is scarcely possible, for example, to see a disgusting sore on another without feeling some uneasiness in the same part of our own bodies as is affected in theirs. In like manner, we cannot look upon a fellow- creature crawling with vermin without exhibiting a sort of imaginative sense of their transference to ourselves. We mention these as examples of which almost every one has had experience, but there are many similar cases, of which we are more or less conscious, as we observe more or less carefully the nature and modifica- tions of our states of mind. But though this l8o ETHICS. theory be also to a certain extent true, yet, like those which we have previously examined, it does not express the whole truth, nor does it touch at all the great principle of moral obligation. The very measure, indeed, in which we sympathise with others, demonstrates the imperfection of the theory, since our sympathies are not the same, even under the same circumstances, with respect to every individual, but are modified according to the degree of kindness or affection which we feel towards the individual whose condition has called them into exercise. This consideration, which is attested by universal experience, is of itself fatal to the completeness of Smith's theory. For as our sympathy with others, according to this theory, is really a feeling for ourselves, and has nothing to do with the character or relationship of the parties towards whom it is felt, so it manifestly must be measured by the intensity of pleasure or pain which we believe them to realise in each instance, and could neither be increased nor diminished by any other cause. If indeed we were to as- sume that it was increased or diminished by any other cause, then that cause would necessarily constitute a new element introduced into the theory. As, however, the phenomenon cannot be explained without the assumption of another cause, it follows beyond question, that there must be a moral feeling, or, in other words, a principle of love, existing in the mind antecedently to any INTRODUCTION. l8l sympathy which may he generated hy a transference of other people's feelings to ourselves, which such sympathy, so far as it exists, only strengthens and vivifies. Thus it becomes stronger just in propor- tion to the increased degree of affection which we bear towards those with whom we sympathise. This is an experimentum crucis if the facts be conceded, and they are too simple and notorious to admit of being denied. Smith's theory, consequently, can only be par- tially true, so that we are left once more as ignor- ant of the primary principles of morality as ever. Nor is it to be overlooked that he has himself felt so strongly the imperfection of his theory, that in various instances, though probably un- conscious of it, he has changed his ground. He again and again appeals to general rules of moral- ity, and to moral faculties as implanted in us by the Deity, regarding sympathy in such cases as a mere measure of the extent to which we realise those rules and obey those faculties. At this point, however, his opinions become so confused and complicated, that it is impossible clearly to understand his principles ; nor is it necessary to attempt investigating them farther, because each particular which he thus introduces as supple- mentary to his theory is more fully developed by other writers. The next theory of morals which presents itself for our consideration is that which assumes a 1 82 ETHICS. mental power or faculty, usually called " con- science/' or " the moral sense/' which sanctions that which is right, and condemns that which is wrong. Now, that there is no such power or faculty determining the nature of our actions, does not need any proof It is a conclusion per- fectly certain from the notorious fact, undisputed and undisputable, that actions are neither right nor wrong in themselves, but are right or wrong according to the character of the feelings which generate them. Hence the same action may be right in one case and wrong in another. Eight, indeed, simply means a feeling that involves hap- piness in itself, and is therefore conformable to the spiritual laws of our natures. Wrong is a feeling that involves suffering in itself, however many in- cidental pleasures may coexist with it, so as for the time to conceal such suffering even from ourselves, and is therefore inconsistent with' the spiritual laws of our natures. Eight and wrong, therefore, are terms which, strictly speaking, are not appli- cable to actions at all, but to our feelings and intentions only. When, therefore, it is said that there is a faculty teaching us what feelings are right and what feel- ings wrong, it must be meant that this "con- science " or " moral sense " is something in addi- tion to the pleasure or pain involved in the feel- ings themselves, and indicating their rightness or wrongness — 1. c, their conformity to, or inconsist- INTRODUCTION. 1 83 ency with, the spiritual laws of our natures — by some wholly different process. But unless this " conscience "' or " moral sense " be confused with intelligence, it is extremely difficult to conceive what it means, or how it is to be discovered. If we speak of the sense of sight or hearing, and of the faculties of perception, or memory, or reason, and of the emotions of gratitude or sympathy, every one immediately realises corresponding ideas. But when we speak of the faculty of " conscience " or a " moral sense," except in so far as we are conscious of certain feelings blessing us in themselves, and certain others implying suffer- ing in themselves, we not only have no corre- sponding idea, but we have no precise notion of the results with which such faculty is said to make us acquainted. It is argued, indeed, that the existence of such a faculty is proved by a sense of approbation or disapprobation which invariably accompanies its exercise. The assumption is founded on a mis- take. There is no sense of approbation or dis- approbation, though there may be a sense of plea- sure or pain, in any absolute state of mind what- soever. It is the moral effort which a man puts forth for the purpose of realising that which he believes to be right or conformable to the higher spiritual laws of his nature, which is the object of our approbation; and the cowardly yielding to selfish desire in respect of that which he believes 1 84 ETHICS. to be wrong, or inconsistent with the higher spiritual laws of his nature, which is the object of our disapprobation. Hence we do not feel any sense of approbation for a kind temper, or a chastity which proceeds from coldness of consti- tution. We only approve of those who regulate the impetuosity of temper, or control the impulses of irregular desire, under the conviction that in doing so they are obeying the higher spiritual laws of their natures. In like manner, we do not disapprove of acts, however mischievous they may be, which originate in irremediable ignorance of their character and bearing, in so far as the individual committing them is concerned. We only disapprove of them in so far as they are purposely mischievous, or in so far as the person who commits them had, or might have had, the means of knowing their ulti- mate effects, and the inconsistency of the feelings from which they may have originated with the higher laws of his spiritual nature. Any disap- probation which may be felt in such a case re- gards, not the individual, but the character of the feeling which actuated him as not sufficiently regulated and controlled. It is, in other words, the act, and not the individual, which is con- demned. It is therefore manifest, under what- ever view we take of the subject, that the theory of " conscience " or " a moral sense " is only true as expressing an imhnown cause of certain spirit- INTRODUCTION. 185 ual phenomena, and can consequently never afford any satisfactory explanation either of the prin- ciples of morals, or of the obligation under which we are bound to realise them. Accordingly, this theory has neither given us any additional means of distingushing betwixt right and wrong, nor any additional motive for pursuing the one or avoiding the other. It is of no practical value, nor could it consequently be made available for any practical purpose. The hypothesis that there is a faculty which teaches what feelings are right and what wrong is perhaps the only one w^hich, being pure verbiage, conveys no precise information, and in- volves no absolute truth whatever. The pertin- acity with which it has been adhered to by a large proportion of the religious world, has had a great effect in giving currency to the most imperfect but still partially true theories of selfishness. There is still another theory of morals closely connected with that which we have just consid- ered, and which deserves to be mentioned, because it has derived some character from professing to regard morality as a feeling entirely disinterested. According to this theory, the obligation to moral- ity consists in its constituting " the will of God," and concludes, therefore, that it is to be real- • ised apart from any " hope of reward or fear of punishment." It seems strange that the disciples of this theory do not perceive the inconsistency of its terms. Delight in the exercise of the spirit 1 86 ETHICS. of love, apart from any personal or selfish gratifi- cation, is in itself the most pure and perfect dis- interestedness. Mere obedience, apart from any pleasure in obedience, would rather be the virtue, if it could be so called, of an automaton, than of an intelligent being. In the case which we are considering, however, such disinterestedness as is contemplated is impossible in the nature of things. To suppose that obedience to the will of God should not imply happiness or a reward involved in itself, and disobedience suff'ering or a penalty involved in itself, is to suppose that the laws of God are mere arbitrary arrangements, without any excellence in themselves, or any suitability to the creatures whose conduct He has appointed them to regulate. From this it is obvious that under such a supposition we could have no means of discovering what the Avill of God is. It has been shown that there is no special faculty which can discover the spiritual laws of God, or, at all events, no faculty which can discover them wdth such precision as to be practically available. If they do not, therefore, discover themselves by the intense and permanent happiness which they are calculated to generate, it seems evident that we never can discover them at all. No doubt it may be said, and is usually said by those who hold this theory, that God might dis- cover His spiritual laws to us by revelation. But, besides that, under this assumption, they could INTRODUCTION. 1 8/ only be binding on tJiose tuJio had received a reve- lation, the assumption would in a great measure annihilate the evidence of a revelation itself. For while we are far from desiring to underrate the external evidences for revelation, yet their import- ance, whatever value we attach to them, must mainly depend on their connection with the inter- nal or moral evidences. In their own place they are perfectly satisfactory, but apart from the inter- nal evidences they would be worthless, since of themselves they could only at the utmost prove wisdom and power. Their validity, as probative of a true, benevolent, and just God, must depend upon their harmonising in themselves, and in their effects, with those attributes of truth, bene- volence, and justice, which we know from anterior evidence to appertain to Him, and thus necessarily to originate the laws which He has decreed for the purpose of regulating the feelings and princi- ples of His intelligent creatures. It is indeed farther said, that as morality, were it universally realised in human conduct, would effect the highest happiness of our race considered as a whole, so this of itself proves that it is " the win of God" that we should cultivate it. But, besides that this introduces a new element, dis- tinct from mere obedience to the will of God, Paley has clearly seen, and strikingly shown, that the highest happiness of the whole in this yjorld would neither prove that morality was 1 88 ETHICS. " the will of God/' nor would constitute a suffi- cient motive for inducing men to cultivate it. On this account, he added, as a motive and ob- ligation to morality in his own system, " happi- ness in another world,'' and his error lay in not understanding the nature of that happiness. In- stead of regarding it as a happiness involved in the very nature of morality itself, and thus con- stituting happiness everywhere, he wrote of it as some sort of arbitrary happiness, and thus under- mined our proof for the attributes of God on the one hand, and identified his theory with a prin- ciple of selfishness on the other. Nor could it be otherwise, since, if the happiness resulting from morality is limited to this world, or to mere arbi- trary, and therefore selfish, happiness in another, it is clear that our own personal happiness, and not the spirit of love, must be our great motive, and thus imply the strongest obligation. Conse- quently, it would follow that any man would, and in a certain sense ought, to secure his own highest happiness, altogether away from any con- sideration of others, except in so far as their hap- piness bore upon his own, and this he would be justified in believing to be the "will of God." For the "will of God" can only be ascertained by a determination of the means best calculated to attain the great end of our being, under the circumstances in which we actually exist. As selfishness, however, may be regarded under most INTRODUCTION. 1 89 plausible argaments to be the best means of secur- ing the highest happiness of individuals under the circumstances in which we exist, and without hopes of living in another world, so it would farther follow that selfishness is the true principle of morals, and the true motive and obligation by which our conduct should be regulated. If, again, we add Paley's motive of arbitrary happiness in another world, we must conclude, as has been already shown, that the Supreme Being actually proposes selfishness as a motive to morality ; and thus the very principle of morality is subverted at its foundations.* Now, in all these theories of morals, with the exception of that which rests our knowledge of morality on a special faculty, there is a certain amount of absolute truth. Yet, as we have seen, they are all imperfect. No one of them, nor indeed all of them taken together, will explain the phenomena, nor afford us sufficient motives * The selfish theory of morality, under whatever form, has for its motive limited and temporary ^/easwre. The true theory of morality must have for its motive intense and permanent Jiajjpiness. The theory which proposes "the greatest happiness of the greatest number " as the principle of morality has no definite test, and no motive of any kind, except in so far as it trenches on one or other of the theories above mentioned. For there is no desire in the human mind for **the greatest happi- ness of the greatest number." We may desire the happiness of individuals, or of the whole human race ; but to desire the hap- piness of a majority, as a primary feeling, is ridiculous, for it might in many cases imply the unhappiness of the minority. IQO ETHICS — INTRODUCTION. for cultivating moral dispositions. There is clearly sometliing wanting in order to constitute anything like a science of morality. We shall now, there- fore, enaeavour to ascertain what that something is, so that the fundamental principles of morality may be fully and demonstratively determined. ETHICS, OR THE SCIENCE OF MORALITY. CHAPTER I. SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. DIFFERENCE IN CHAEACTER BETWIXT THE PHYSICAL AND MORAL LAWS OF NATURE— DIFFERENT KINDS OF HAPPINESS— WE HA\^ IN THIS A DISTINCT INDICATION OF THE MODE IN WHICH OUR CONDUCT SHOULD BE REGULATED— IN THE STRUGGLE BETWIXT LOVE AND SELFISHNESS, SELFISHNESS CONQUERS IN THE FIRST INSTANCE — PROCESS DESCRIBED — POWER OF HABIT AND ASSOCI- ATION—ONLY MODE IN WHICH LOVE CAN BE GENERATED — IT MUST BE STIMULATED AND STRENGTHENED BY THE SAME MEANS AS SELFISHNESS IS STIMULATED AND STRENGTHENED— THE OBJECT CANNOT BE ATTAINED APART FROM RELIGION — THIS PROVES THE TRUTH OF RELIGION, EVEN IF IT HAD NO OTHER PROOF. The physical laws of nature, we know, immediately vindicate themselves. They on the instant work out their purpose to the full extent that they are brought into operation. A sufficient force applied to machinery at once puts it in motion, and to 192 SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. the precise extent that the force and the machin- ery stand related to each other. It is altogether different with respect to spiritual laws.* They do not of necessity vindicate themselves immedi- ately in proportion to their relative importance. Their effect, on the contrary, is modified by the will of the agent, as well as by an infinity of inci- dental motives. These motives originate in the amount of happiness wliich each individual may suppose at the moment his conduct likely to realise. No doubt it might appear, judging from physical laws, that in this men acted wisely, and that the degree of happiness expected in each instance would constitute a just measure of the importance which nature attaches to the mental state under which each law is realised. This is by no means the case, however, because human beings frequently judge under the influence of impulse and ignorance, as will manifestly appear from a somewhat more careful consideration of the subject. As we have already seen, the object which all human beings are continually seeking is happi- ness. We seek literally nothing else at any mo- * That there is such a difference in character betwixt the physical laws of nature and the spiritual laws of nature as that mentioned in the text, cannot be disputed. It arises from the different characters of the existences to which they apply. The one is suitable to the nature of inanimate, the other to the nature of the intelligent and moral, beings. Hoice the differ- ence of their sanctions. SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. 193 ment of our lives. But, as we have also seen, there are two sources from which happiness may be derived. The one is realised in our own per- sonal gratification exclusively; the other is real- ised in the love which we feel for others, combined with that which we believe them reciprocally to bear to us, so as to constitute both, as it were, one being in the intimacy of a moral union. Now a desire for these two kinds of happiness exists in our natural feelings, and in such a way that if the gratification of either be extended beyond a par- ticular point, it necessarily comes into collision with the legitimate gratification of the other. Hence in this we have a distinct direction given by nature as to the manner in which our desires in these respects ought to be regulated. At the point of collision they are to be controlled, so that, the one never interfering with the other, we may thus enjoy the unalloyed happiness resulting from both. Did the laws of our spiritual nature im- mediately and fully indicate themselves as is the case with physical laws, it is obvious that this result would be forced upon us. But in that case human beings could only be a species of automata, without any exercise of free-Avill. As free-will creatures, however, we soon find that spiritual laws do not immediately vindicate them- selves, and that the result in each case is mate- rially modified by the action of that free-will itself which as rational beings we enjoy. N 194 SPIRITUAL LA\YS OF NATURE. In order to understand the mode under whicli free-will operates in sucli cases, we mnst attend to the gradual development of the spiritual char- acter in man, in connection with the causes which are found to modify that character. Nor is the process difficult. Infants and children are in the first instance invariably selfish, as we know from experience. It must be so, indeed, because they realise the happiness resulting from personal gratification from the first moment of their exist- ence. Everything presses the value of this kind of happiness upon them ; while there is nothing to teach them practically the happiness derivable from love. All the care profusely lavished upon a child by the most affectionate mother is neces- sarily received by the infant as if it were the result of a physical laiu. It could not, indeed, be otherwise, since infants have no means of dis- tinguishing the spiritual qualities of their fel- low-creatures from the physical qualities of a machine. The infant never can do this till it feels conscious of its own spiritual qualities, and is thereby led to attribute the same qualities to others by a regular process of reasoning. Even when the spiritual qualities of others are in so far in this way discovered, it can only in the first instance be very partially. The infant, and even the child during its earlier years, can have no full conception of the motive of a mother's care, and therefore cannot by possibility aj)preciate it. SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. I95 Such care must appear to tliem a mere matter of course, as being utterly ignorant of tlie anxiety, and weariness, and even suffering, which it in- volves. Yet at a very early age a child will ex- hibit some faint reciprocation of a mother's love. This partakes, no doubt, of the selfish element; but yet the element of love can also be discovered clearly enough to preclude any question of its ex- istence. Anything like a high indication of the spirit of love is, however, very rare among chil- dren. They, on the contrary, seem to show almost indifference to suffering. This often proceeds from a very imperfect idea of what suffering is. They have themselves never been subjected to suffering, or have forgotten their sufferings, and thus cannot appreciate suffering in others. The very injuries which they inflict with apparently the greatest recklessness upon animals, seem indeed in many instances to be inflicted in a spirit of thoughtlessness, or even of mistaken kindness. But admitting this to the fullest extent, it is cer- tain, from what has been already said, and what is attested by universal experience, that children never come to realise love in a high degree till they learn to appreciate their dependence upon others, and the high degree of love which others manifest towards themselves by experiencing in- telligently their care and kindness, and compar- ing it with the little which they themselves have done in return. After that, as in all other cases. 196 SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. they learn to measure it by its effects; and if their education has been conducted in a spirit of kindness, they usually manifest a warmth of affection such as is not equalled at any other age. This arises from their feelings being as yet in their normal state, and uncorrupted by those causes which, as we shall subsequently show, come to operate deleteriously on their purity. In thus far, however, we have only considered the case of those who are most favourably circum- stanced, for a vast number of children are actually trained to selfishness. When their moral educa- tion is not neglected altogether, it is too often a mere form. The effect of this, and specially its bearing on their subsequent characters, cannot be doubted. For when they come to more mature years, and the struggle between the spirit of self- ishness and the spirit of love fairly and formally begins, it cannot fail, rmder such circumstances, that selfishness should gain the victory. Of course, we do not mean to say that love towards our near- est relatives, or those with whom we are in any way intimately connected, may not overrule the grosser forms of selfishness. In our feelings towards them, and all whom we trust, there is real love, but at the same time there is usually a large measure of selfishness combined with such love. Their interests are so interwoven with ours that our mutual welfare depends upon each other. We only mean that selfishness is the ruling prin- SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. I97 ciple, and that therefore to our own personal grati- fications and personal interests, directly or indi- rectly, the principle of love is subordinated. Nor is this wonderful, since, as has been already indicated, men are frequently, if not al- ways, trained in selfislmess. They have an exam- ple of it in the conduct of all around them, and that growing more and more manifest as, leaving their domestic circles, they mix in the active world, and become acquainted with its ways. They find few in whom they can put confidence, and consequently few that they can love ; for without confidence there can be no true love. Sometimes they even find that there are persons possessed of keen worldly intelligence, who violate by treachery and ingratitude the confidence which truth and love had reposed in them. Under such circumstances, suspicion and selfish prudence are almost forced upon those- entering the world, till exclusive attention to our own interests becomes a habit. With this the influence of sensual desire — wliich, though often incidentally generating noble impulses and acts, is in its own nature es- sentially selfish — combines to confirm and extend the power of selfishness in a multitude of different directions. All this becomes still farther compli- cated by new and secondary desires which growing habit produces under the influence of association. For if we accustom ourselves to think of any ob- ject which in itself involves neither pleasure nor 198 SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. pain, in constant connection with another which does involve pleasure or pain, the feeling which appertains to the one will by degrees be trans- ferred to the other ; and thus a secondary desire is constituted, which in time may become so strong as to assume all the appearance of one that is primary.* This process is perhaps in no case more strik- ingly developed than in the growth of avarice. Avarice is evidently no primary desire of the human mind. No one from any primary desire cares for bills, or bank-notes, or pieces of grey or yellow metal, for their own sakes. We seek them at first merely as means, through which primary desires may be gratified. But as we continue for a length of time to seek those means without almost thinking of the end, except in so far as the desire involved in it continues steadily to be our impelling motive, that desire gradually connects itself with the means, which thus assume in our minds the place and character of the end, and in this way a new or secondary desire is constituted. This desire ultimately becomes so strong in many instances, that it could not be discriminated from * It will be obvious that in this there is no new feeling. There is only a direction of the old feeling to new objects. The power of association merely transfers the primary feeling which strictly belongs to one object, to another object that has coex- isted with it. The nature of the process is obvious. Associa- tion cannot originate a new feeling absolutely ; the very idea of such a thincj is absurd. SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. 1 99 a primary desire, save from the consideration that its immediate object affords no gratification of itself, hut could only have primarily gratified us as the representative and means of securing an ulterior object or objects of which it has assumed the place through habit and associatio7i. There is another very striking development of the same process in that love of dress which often acquires so much influence over the minds of per- sons who in their youth are anxious for personal admiration. In the first instance they seek for elegant and expensive dress, only for the purpose of gaining such admiration. The idea of the dress, consequently, is always interwoven with the desire, so that it comes to be connected intimately with the pleasure with which the expected gratification of the desire is contemplated. Hence the plea- sure involved in the prospective gratification of the desire continues connected with the dress when the gratification of the desire itself is hope- less. The means through habit and association have, in other words, taken the place of the end ; and such persons consequently delight in the dress, when every expectation of personal admiration, and almost every wish for it, has from advancing age or other causes entirely faded away. The primary desire has disappeared, and a secondary desire, growing out of the means which we had used in endeavouring to realise it, has taken its place. But if habit and association thus generate ab- 200 SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. solutely new desires and passions,* still greater is their effect in intensifying primary desires and passions. This is specially marked in the growth of that selfishness under its various forms which no doubt exists to a certain extent as a primary condition of the human mind, but which, from being so often uppermost in our thoughts, under the influence of the various causes already enum- erated, gradually becomes more intense through the influence of habit and association. So much is' this the case, indeed, that, unless carefully guarded against, it ultimately supersedes every other consideration, so that all the links of love which naturally bind us to society are loosed or broken. Thus also by the same means may any primary feeling, desire, or purpose be intensified. We have only to allow any one of them to be per- petually in our thoughts seeking gratification, and its influence in time will become overwhelminef. It will reach a species of moral insanity, under which every object acquires a new character, being tainted more or less deeply with the colouring which the prevailing feeling, or desire, or purpose affords. It is precisely in the same way that our desires, consequently, are directed to j)articular objects. Thus a young man or woman, under the influence of passions appertaining to their age, having their attention directed to an individual of the oppo- * In the sense of ' ' new " previously stated. SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. 201 site sex under suitable circumstances, by dwelling on their qualifications in connection with their own feelings, gradually form an attachment, which for the time supersedes all counteracting consider- ations. Hence it is that difficulties, as in all other cases of desire, add fuel to the flame of sexual love. The eff'ort to overcome the difficulties keeps the parties more incessantly in each other's thoughts, and with a more overbearing impression, so long as there is any hope of success, while the time is prolonged during which the growing passion is either flushed by hope or exasperated by disap- pointment. The effects of all the arts of flirta- tion, it is obvious, are, as forms of difficulties, reducible to precisely the same principle. Those who exercise them do, though for the most part very unconsciously, act on the most philosophical principles in thus alternating hope and disappoint- ment. They are stamping their own image on the hearts of their admirers by the most effectual process which they could employ ; and if they be cautious in not going too far, so as to bring coun- teracting principles into operation, they will sel- dom fail of success, because they are really follow- ing the laws of nature. All this is because, the qualifications of the individuals being associated with pleasing prospects and favourable inclina- tions, these individuals come ultimately through habit and association to be invested with attri- butes which exist only in the imagination of the 202 SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. admirer, and a happiness is tlius anticipated from a union with them, which it is unlikely that even these attributes, if they actually existed, could realise. In the same way once more, we may by habit and association generate a species of affection for animals, localities, houses, furniture, or anything else. It is unnecessary, however, to dweU at greater length on the application of these prin- ciples, because every one has it forced upon his attention in his own experience. Hence it will be obvious that the conduct of men is frequently regulated by motives in which considerations of their ultimate welfare have little or no share. Long habit and association have in a large number of cases so strengthened one class of desires and weakened another, that there hardly can be a struggle between them. Thus, under the process described, our thoughts become so steadily and continuously fixed on the world, and the gratifications of the world, that we never think of our moral relations at all. Love for others, except in so far as it is a modified form of selfishness, almost ceases to influence us. Now this certainly seems an unnatural state. It makes human beings monsters of one-sidedness, the authority of the higher and nobler part of our natm^e being swept away. The happiness of per- sons in this frame of mind becomes purely inci- dental; of essential happiness flowing from the SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. 203 very condition and character of their minds, they can have no notion whatever. Under such circumstances there is no possi- bility of restoring the balance of our natures, and thus attaining in any measure the ultimate pur- pose of our existence, except hy reversing the pro- cess. We must renovate the spirit of love, in other words, in the same way as we had pre- viously stimulated the spirit of selfishness. ^0 mere act of will can at once change our tenden- cies. The ambitious man, for example, cannot will effectively and at once to renounce his ambi- tion ; nor the sensual man his sensuality ; nor the selfish man of any kind his selfishness. By the constitution of the mind, it requires a struggle ; and the more deep-seated our habits, the more earnest and continuous must the struggle be. This is the ordinary law of humanity, and in this, consequently, we discover the purpose of God. But to set about realising such an object, requires a sufficient motive. We must feel a want, we must be thoroughly conscious of an evil, ere in earnest we can be induced to seek a remedy. Hence, though such a consciousness may be sug- gested to us by many causes, yet the most effec- tive of them, as formerly indicated, is to be found in a sense of suff'ering. It is through suffering specially, as is manifest from the very nature of the case, that the utter insufficiency of selfish- ness to secure happiness is pressed, and indeed 204 SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. foi'ced upon us. We are thereby tauglit by the most effectual lesson our own weakness, and our dependence upon others. We are made to feel in our experience the need of sympathy, and from the intuitive assurance in such feeling that o sympathy can be procured, we necessarily are induced to call in the aid of reason for the pur- pose of discovering more precisely the means through which it may to the fullest extent be realised. 'Not is the investigation in this case difficult. All experience teaches us, the moment we direct our attention to the subject, that to secure the love of others we must ourselves love. Indeed, our very desire for sympathy seems to generate a principle of love, or rather to vivify the spark of love that lies latent within us ; and we are made to feel at once, that in the very consciousness of its existence such consciousness blesses us in itself. Under this influence, steadily realised, it grows and grows in an increasing ratio, as we are made more and more sensible of the blessedness of mutual love resting on mutual confidence. The approbation of our conduct too, both as felt by ourselves and as expressed by others, gives from the beginning an energy to our efforts. We feel that the object which we have in view is higher and nobler than any which w^e had previously sought. Our very natures become elevated, and the power of selfishness is thus subdued under a SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. 205 reversal of the process by wliicli it had been strengthened. Yet it is perfectly impossible that our efforts can be successful in realising fully the spirit of love apart from religious considerations, simply because we have no approach to any sufficient motive. It is from overlooking this that all theories of morals are found so unsatisfactory. No doubt, during the season of calamity or suff'er- ing, the exquisite sweetness of sympathy, and our consciousness of solitary wretchedness apart from it, will in a great measure for the time subordi- nate selfishness, and bind us to others by the cords of love, as all have felt in their own experience. But we soon discover that there is much more wanted than the utmost affection of our fellow-creatures can supply. They, at the best, can only very imperfectly remedy our ills, and they can give us no assurance whatever for futurity. Not for a day nor an hour can they secure our health or our welfare. We are con- scious of this ; we cannot thoroughly repose confi- dence in them. Our sense of dependence de- mands another co-relative. Our love for them, consequently, cannot be of that intense kind which alone implies a realisation of the prindide of love, because we do not entirely trust in them. It is perfect trust alone, as we have already seen, and as indeed we all feel in our own experience, which can realise the principle which thus be- 206 SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. comes entire in degree and universal in applica- tion. We can only in an imperfect degree love those whom we do not perfectly trust, because the very want of trust implies not merely our knowledge of their want of power to bless us as we desire to be blessed, but a doubt of our love being fully reciprocated, which must ever be felt with respect to dependent and imperfect creatures. Love, therefore, without any mixture of selfish- ness, can only be felt in its fulness towards one whom we know to be altogether devoid of selfish- ness, whom we know to be able to bless us with the most intense and permanent happiness, and in whose willingness so to bless us we repose unlimited confidence. The moment that we real- ise our relationship to such a being, love as a 'principle necessarily follows, and must conse- quently embrace every intelligent being in so far as they are not absolutely selfish. We say abso- lutely selfish, because to love any being as selfish is impossible, and would imply a contradiction in the nature of things. It would imply love for that which is the opposite of lovable, and conse- quently is the natural object of abhorrence. Yet for such a being, the man who realises a spirit of love will feel pity mixed with indignation, which is the only form that abhorrence can assume in him who has realised such a character. He can- not hate, for hatred is a painful feeling, and he who has the principle of love thoroughly uniting SPIRITUAL LAWS OF NATURE. 20/ liim to his God can have no spiritual pain. He is blessed in his God, and the nearer, therefore, that he approaches to full spiritual communion with Him, the higher, of course, his happiness rises. Whether such a state of mind as this can be attained solely through the knowledge which natural religion affords, is, again, an entirely different question. We only desire here to show, under the laws of nature, the only possible mode of procuring intense and permanent happiness. As, however, such happiness is the object of our whole lives, from instant to instant, and from the cradle to the grave, it will not be disputed that it is an object which nature directs us to seek ; and that therefore it must be attainable by some means, unless God and nature be purposely de- CHAPTER II. NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS OF MORALITY. THERE IS IN ALL HUMAN BEINGS A CERTAIN FEELING OF LOVE FOR OTHERS — THIS THE SOURCE OF A HIGH MEASURE OF HAP- PINESS FROM THE BEGINNING, WHICH GROWS GREATER AND GREATER — MORALITY ESSENTIAL TO THE EXISTENCE OF OUR RACE— THIS PROVED FROM OUR RELATIONS TO ONE ANOTHER, OUR SENSE OF APPROBATION AND DISAPPROBATION, AND OUR PROSPECT OF A FUTURE LIFE— HOW A SENSE OF RELIGION OPERATES ON THE HUMAN MIND — THE OBLIGATIONS OF AND MOTIVES TO MORALITY DEFINITELY STATED, AS DISCOVERABLE FROM THE PRECEDING CONSIDERATIONS — MODE UNDER WHICH WE DISCOVER RIGHT AND WRONG IN EACH CASE — MODE IN WHICH WE CAN REALISE RIGHT— CONCLUSION. That men have a feeling of mutual love towards eacli other, under the very constitution of their natures, is manifest from the tendencies and con- duct of every human being. We do not speak merely of the love which all feel more or less to- wards relatives, and those who, as they believe, love them, but of the Idndness which all human beings manifest in a certain measure towards those of whom they know nothing, in so far as they do not interfere with the gratification of their own selfish- NATURE OF MORALITY. 209 ness. Indeed, the very fact that we desire the love of others,* proves that we have the feeling of love in ourselves, or else we could form no idea of it We cannot have any idea of a primary feel- ing, unless we have actually felt it; and as love is a primary feeling, if it be anything, it follows as a matter of certainty that, unless we felt it our- selves, we could not have the least notion of what it could mean ; and that, therefore, to speak about love for others, or their love for us, would be as un- intelligible as if we were to describe a new sense, or to imagine a new feeling of any kind. The desire of being loved further gives us the voice of nature enjoining us to seek love in using the suitable means of procuring it. In other words, it enjoins us to love others, and to realise such love so far as we can in our conduct, under the assurance that this is the only means through wdiich we can procure their love in return. Tliat selfishness must be subordinated to this love, appears not only from our experience that as the power of selfishness is diminished the love of our fellow-creatures towards us is increased, but * It will not be disputed that we delight in the admiration and love even of a stranger. This is the cause of real cour- tesy, and of that desire to oblige which every one feels in the normal state of his nature. No doubt, there may be many other causes in operation, but this principle must be the funda- mental motive. Cnder any other assumption, there neither could be real courtesy, nor a sincere desire to oblige. Admira- tion in itself necessarily implies a feeling of deference, and deference as necessarily implies a form of respect or love. n 210 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS specially from the application of the principle to the Supreme Being. We all would wish to secure for ourselves the love of God, and His protection, because we should thus secure everything that we could desire ; for all things are His, and He can give them to whomsoever He pleases. That we do not, however, in earnest seek His love, is just be- cause in doing so we must entirely subordinate selfishness to the attainment of it. This we know in our knowledge of the nature of God, since it is obviously impossible to conceal one grain of our selfishness from Him who is omnisci- ent, and who therefore knows every process that is in progress in our souls. Yet till we do in earnest seek the love of God and His protection we cannot realise the principle of love in its ful- ness and its purity, and consequently cannot begin to realise even the first traces of that intense and permanent happiness which we all continually and exclusively seek as the end and perfection of our existence. The same argument, however, may be stated in another and no less satisfactory form. For it is evident that morality in some shape is essential to the welfare, and even the very existence, of society. If every man considered his fellow-creatures as enemies, whom he was entitled to injure and put to death wherever he could find them, and if every man actually carried this theory into effect wherever he had an opportunity, it will be ad- OF MORALITY. 211 mitted that society could not exist. We have, therefore, the voice of nature proclaiming the laws of morality in so far. It may be said, indeed, that to restrain ourselves thus far is a mere form of selfishness. This to a certain extent is true, but the principle implies a great deal more. Tor did we believe that every one, instead of feeling kind- ness, felt hostility towards his fellow-creatures, and was only restrained from gratifying it by selfish motives, or a sort of tacit paction founded on the necessity of mutual forbearance, which would be precisely the condition of intelligent beings with- out any spirit of mutual love, the effect on society would be little better. All would require to be perpetually on their guard, since no one could tell when an impulse of passion, or an outburst of hatred, or the influence of personal interest, might induce a breach of paction, and expose people to insult, or injury, or death, without any means of meeting the danger. Society only exists under the mutual conviction that men have naturally a feeling of kindness towards each other, and that so strong as to prevent the chance of its violation, at all events under any ordinary cir- cumstances. If, again, all human beings were deceivers and liars, so that no one could put any confidence in the assurance or pledge of his neighbour, it is equally manifest as in the former case that hu- man society would be dissolved. Nor would it be 212 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS mucli better if truth and faith had no foundation in mutual love, but were only binding as a sort of tacit understanding among men, for the sake of their mutual advantage. Such an understanding could have no foundation in itself on which to rest, and consequently would be violated without scruple whenever our selfish interests might over- bear the expectation of advantage to be derived from its observance. When, therefore, we find men, while perfectly aware that they are injuring their selfish interests, yet steadily maintaining truth and good faith even where they are exposed to no risk of discovery, we have a proof that a sense of right is exercising its influence over their minds. They indicate, in fact, thereby, that there is a law of nature requiring them to love their fellow-creatures, which is directly opposed to the law of selfishness, and of higher authority.* No doubt many violate this law, but not v/ithout a struggle, or at all events the power of habit and * It may indeed be said that this is not a primary bnt a secondary feeling, generated by habit and association, inas- much as men, being trained from infancy to believe that false- hood and treachery will call down upon them the wrath of God, come ultimately to adopt the assumption as a principle. This, however, brings us back to a still more advanced con- clusion, since, if a belief in the superintending providence of God be the motive to truth and good faith, it proves, from whatever source the belief may arise, that we have got at the true explanation of the phenomenon. The existence of such a belief under the assumption demonstrates its absolute neces- sity. OF MORALITY. 213 association must have become exceedingly strong in an opposite direction ere such a result could have been produced, and even then not without a consciousness that a higher and holier law had been violated. In this, again, we have the voice of nature proclaiming still farther the laws of morality. We say the laws of morality, though, strictly speaking, it is only the law of love. De- ceit and falsehood would be perfectly harmless, or rather there could be no such thing, if they neither directly nor indirectly injured our fellow- creatures. We arrive at precisely the same conclusion Avith respect to the superior obligations of the moral law, in the case of such acts as bear more directly on our personal character and condition. He who eats or drinks to excess, not only injures his own w^orldly happiness to a greater extent than present enjoyment can compensate, but he renders himself an object of contempt and dis- gust to his fellow-creatures. He as well as they feel that in impairing his mental energies and superseding his mental faculties he is degrading himself, and violating the spiritual laws of his nature. Hence, he and they are conscious that he is doing wrong, for right is acting in con- formity with the laws of our spiritual nature, and wrong is violating them. We have here again the voice of nature proclaiming the obligation of moral law, which, as in all other cases, is really 214 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS the law of love. To wallow in selfish gratifications and indulge in sensual desires would be of little importance in themselves, did they not materially interfere with our capability of realising those relationships by which, under the law of love, we are bound to our fellow-creatures and to our God. The assurance, however, of morality being a realisation of the laws of our spiritual nature, in practically recognising the superior obligation of the spirit of love, is perfected in that sense of ap- probation and disapprobation which a successful or unsuccessful struggle against our selfishness re- spectively generates. Self-approbation is merely a species of happiness, distinguished from other forms of happiness as a sort of elation originating in the feeling of having conquered our selfish tendencies in a moral struggle. There is indeed a sense of elation wherever we succeed in any object in regard to which any serious difficulty has been encountered and overcome. The special pecu- liarity in the case of moral elation lies in its originating in a success over ourselves, and in opposition to our selfish propensities. It has, consequently, nothing to do with any external result, except in so far as our mental triumph may be vindicated therein. The gratification would be the same, or might even be more intense, where there was no external manifestation of any result whatever. Self-approbation is, therefore, blessed in its own nature as a result of the feeliuG^ that OF MORALITY. 215 we liave vindicated tlie supremacy of the nobler part of our natures, in subjecting their lower and less worthy laws to the higher and more perfect. The voice of nature is, therefore, here specially precise, and in the language which she employs announces emphatically that it is the voice of God.* But it is not merely self-approbation that we realise from the success of such a struggle. Wher- ever it is known, it commands the approbation of our fellow-creatures too. "We find that they are so created as to sympathise with us, and that, so far as they admit the existence of the struggle and its success, they cannot avoid doing so. Even the lowest and most degraded can in some measure appreciate the grandeur of the moral struggle in * We have here the grand deficiency of the ancient moralists, Avhether Platonists, Peripatetics, Stoics, or Epicureans, for they all held the same principle, that virtue is its own reward. But they all failed in making good their theory, because they over- looked the necessity of trust in God as the highest virtue and the source of all moral duty. Without trust in God, virtue, though realising much happiness even in its subordinate forms, would not constitute a motive sufficiently strong to control our selfish- ness, because it would only imply love, and consequently hap- piness, of a secondary and inferior character. There are hints of the principle to be found in the writings of some of the ancient philosophers, especially of Plato, as if he were dreaming in delight on some conceivable and glorious possibility ; but not one of the ancient writers give it even a prominent place in their theories, and no one of modern philosophers, so far as we know, has made even an approach to a full appreciation of it. Yet it lies at the foundation of moral science, which, apart from it, as we have seen, can have no solid foundation at all. 2l6 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS which selfishness is subdued by love. Perhaps, indeed, their own knowledge of themselves in- creases their admiration. But with them, while there is yet a spark of rivalry, selfishness, under the guise of vanity, mingles with their sympathy. Hence we have, in so far as this matter is con- cerned, the origin of envy and jealousy. Those who are conscious of their own comparative base- ness hate while they admire. They consequently attribute all manner of unworthy motives to those whom they feel superior to themselves. They cannot bear the sense of their own comparative degradation. Here, again, surely, we have the voice of nature loudly proclaiming that the moral law, or the law of love, is the law of nature and the law of God. But whilst we are thus certain that the moral law is of the very essence of our natures, and that the law of love implies a superior obligation to the law of selfishness, yet the power or motives involved in it, we find from experience, would be altogether insufficient to overcome our selfish pro- pensities, were our moral relations limited to those which connect us with our fellow - creatures. Without the prospect of higher happiness flowing from the realisation of a higher relationship, there must be a drop of bitterness mingled in the cup of life, which would poison its sweetness, however exquisite otherwise might be the draught of which, for the time, we were permitted to participate. OF MORALITY. 21/ Hence there is no desire, liowever strong, no tem- porary enjoyment, however delicious, which we would not be prepared to repudiate for the pur- pose of realising what we believed to be more per- manent happiness at a future time. Were every one, indeed, at once to yield to his impulses, our world would be one imiversal scene of anarchy and confusion. Here then, again, we have the voice of nature telling us what we should do. In giving us an unceasing desire for intense and permanent happiness, it assures us that such in- tense and permanent happiness is to be found. In compelling us, from the very nature of our condition, to be continually engaged in controlling our present desires for the sake of attaining ulterior and more permanent happiness, it shows us how the object is to be accomplished. Finally, in pressing upon us a sense of our own weakness, and the dependence in which both we and our fellow-creatures incessantly live upon God, it teaches us the quarter to which we are to look in order that this grand object of our existence may be realised, while it assures us that, if we act on the lesson thus given, our efforts will not be in vain. At the same time, it must be a clear and de- cided conviction which will induce men to waive present pleasure for the sake of prospective hap- piness. When the happiness suggested to them is distant, or seems less desirable, present enjoy- ment exercises a paramount power. Nor is this 2l8 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS wonderful, since, apart from religion, there seems no assurance that ulterior objects will ever be realised at all. It is not only that we are not sure of long life, but we cannot be sure of fortune, health, or anything else which belongs to us, even for a single moment. Present gratification must consequently exercise a predominating influence over us in the first instance. When, therefore, any prospective compensation is distant and un- certain, or, above all, when we do not tJiorouc/hly appreciate its excellence, the influence of such prospective compensation on our feelings must be proportionally diminished. From this we can readily discover the cause or causes of the colli- sion of the spiritual laws of our natures, and hence of the preponderating influence of selfishness, in cases where the phenomena clearly indicate that the spirit of love ought to preponderate. For, away from religion, our assurance of that which may happen in futurity is not such as to balance the realisation of present, or the hopes of com- paratively early gratification. This also holds true even when religion exercises some influence, but where our religious expectations are vague, in contradiction to a well-defined and eagerly-de- sired selfish enjoyment, either at the moment in our power, or which we seem to have a certainty of securing at a comparatively early period. That the influence of religion may be available, consequently, it must in so far, at all events, be OF MORALITY. 219 practically in operation. We must have actually realised such love of and trust in God as will enable us to engage with earnestness in the struggle against selfishness strong in the prospect of immediate indulgence. In this view, we must believe in a future and eternal state of being, where the most intense and permanent happiness of which our natures are susceptible is to be realised. It is, however, impossible availably to believe in this, unless we more or less practically realise a union with God in our present state, and rejoice in His love, as, at this present time, bless- ing us with peace. A mere intellectual belief in a future life, resting on indirect evidence, though essential as a foundation, could never give us that trust in God's love which can alone render such belief practically operative, if God in the mean time manifested no spiritual love towards us, however earnestly we might seek Him. The belief that God, though He may at some distant time bless us, yet does not manifest any personal love towards us now, would be almost destruc- tive of anything like full practical trust in Him, because it would imply that He was neglecting the relationship which now connects us with Him. Accordingly, it would be quite insufficient for enabling us to contend against selfishness rioting in the prospect of immediate gratification. A full practical trust in God, on the contrary, resting on an actual sense of His presence ivith us as a father 220 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS a7id a friend, infuses into us a power more than sufficient to control all our selfish propensities. It is self-evident that it must be so. Experi- mental trust in an omniscient, omnipotent, and righteous Being must overbear every other influence from the very nature of the case. We have here, therefore, the voice of nature again calling upon us to strive after that love of God, under a sense of His perpetucd presence, which can alone work out the grand end of our being and the object of our unceasing desire, in assuring us of a growing hap- piness here, and an ultimately intense and perma- nent happiness hereafter. In this w^e have the nature of morality developed, and the obligations to morality completely vindicated. It is, as we have said, once more the voice of nature, and in the voice of nature the command of God, loudly calling on us to realise the spiritual laws connecting us with Himself, as the only possible means under which our spiritual natures can be perfected, or the grand and unceasing desire of our lives can be gratified. It is, in other words, commanding us to live perpetually under a sense of the divine presence, as a means of uniting us with the divine nature, in inducing us to strive continually at the realisation of His will. As in this struggle we feel our union with the divine nature, and our happiness in the assurance of divine love, continu- ally growing, a consciousness of the purpose of our existence being attained becomes more and more OF MORALITY. 221 fully ascertained. It is heaven begun on earth, involvine^ in itself the assurance that heaven thus begun will be perfected in eternity. It is no reply to this to say that practically such a state of mind never is attained. If such a state of mind is not attained, it is because it is not sought with sufficient earnestness, or not sought in the right way. Nature tells us, and God in nature tells us, that it is attainable, and it is a mere absurdity to argue that they may be deceiving us. We could not believe it even if it were true. To us the pro- position that God and nature deceive us implies an impossibility. Morality, therefore, is simply obedience to the spiritual laws of our nature, imder which we are related to our fellow-creatures and our God. The obligation to such obedience consequently arises from the happiness which it at once and permanently realises from the very constitution of our minds, and the misery which, on the con- trary, disobedience necessarily generates while we continue disobedient. Perhaps it would be still more strictly correct to say that the obligation consists in the fact of laws existing which imply happiness or misery in the very act of observing or violating them, as well as in the consequences resulting from observing or violating them respec- tively.* * The motives to morality and the test of morality are co- relative. The test of moralitv is the realisation of its mo- 222 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS That the obligation is not, however, sufficient for enabling us to realise perfect morality under mere worldly considerations, we have already seen, and all experience proves. From the very fact of our coming into existence as infants, and thus being necessarily to a greater or less extent trained in selfishness ere we have the means of appreciating the highest motive to morality, it is evident that in our present state it was not intended by nature that it should be so. Connecting this early training, again, with the history of man's subsequent life, it would appear that we cannot perhaps expect to attain entire moral perfection, nor, consequently, a realisation of the most intense happiness, in this present world. It is, on the contrary, beyond all dispute the purpose of nature and of God that we should, U7ider ordinary circumstances, be striving after it through our whole lives. The very position which we occupy in this world demonstrates that there is a disturbing element purposely introduced into our moral natures. Hence it follows that in determining the difference betwixt right and wrong — or, in other words, in determining what in each instance is conformable to the spiritual laws of our natures — we must call in the aid of reason fives. AVhen we have the test, we have the motive ; and when we have the motive, we have the test. The motive to morality, therefore, being a disposition constituting happiness here, and involving in itself tlie assurance of permanent and intense hap- piness hereafter, the realisation of this disposition is the test of its reality. OF MORALITY. 223 for the regulation of our conduct. Nor is it by any means certain that reason will always prove an unerring guide as to the effects of our acts on the w^elfare of our fellow-creatures, because not only may circumstances deceive us, but prejudice and habit may unconsciously overrule its decisions. We may in all cases, however, attain a sound general conclusion even as to our conduct, if we use our reason in a sincere and honest spirit. At this point, however, we strike away from morality in the strictest sense, which regards the mental state only, and therefore we here allude to con- duct merely as constituting the means through which such mental state may be attained. In this view we are bound to do in every in- stance that which we believe to be right, even when that which we believe to be riglit is un- pleasing to us, because it is through our acts mainly, in the first instance, that our states of mind are constituted. No mere act of intellectual will, as we have already seen, can of itself change our tendencies. This can only be effected in any case by a struggle in which we first realise that which we wish to be in act, and then our struoole in act, steadily maintained, will gradually modify our mental tendencies. When a change of mental character is thus effected, the acts suitable thereto will afterwards, of course, follow without a struggle. The struggle is past, and all v/ill now flow on placid and pleasing. This is illustrated in our 224 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS whole lives under principles already explained. Any tendency may be generated and all counter- acting influences subdued, through persevering efforts practically to realise it, under a conviction that it is for our ultimate and ^permanent good. A man who in the first instance dislikes the profes- sion which circumstances have compelled him to adopt, by persevering in the study of it as essential to the welfare of his future life, often becomes not only fond of it, but devotes himself to the prose- cution of it with such enthusiasm and success as to illustrate it by his discoveries to an extent fre- quently far exceeding the mass of those who may have at first selected it of their own free will. The very triumph which he has gained over his own inclinations has given him, under a law of nature, a deeper interest in his subject. We have observed examples of this specially in the medical profes- sion, where we have repeatedly known persons who had entered on their medical studies with a certain degree of repugnance, prove the greatest ornaments of that profession in after life.* In- stances of the same thing are, however, known to almost every one, as occurring in their own history, or within their personal experience. The princi- ple holds equally true with reference to the subject which we are now discussing. We all love to seek the things of the world, and the pleasures of the * On this subject there are some excellent practical remarks in the 'Autohiography of Sir Benjamin Brodie.' OF MORALITY. 225 ■world, in the first instance, in preference to that happiness which a strict self-control and attention to the moral laws of our being can alone ultimately procure. It is a tendency which is very strong, from causes already mentioned, and can never, consequently, be subdued, save by an earnest endeavour to realise moral sentiment in the strict and persevering performance of practical duty, under a growing assurance of the happiness which it will enable us both at the time and through eternity to secure. Such an assurance is absolutely essential, as otherwise there are and can be no motives which would induce us to pursue such a line of conduct in good faith. That we may be persuaded to do so, we must be convinced that our efforts at self- control, and at the attainment of moral rectitude, painful as they may be for the time, will yet pro- cure for us an amount of happiness, present and prospective, more than sufficient to compensate for the voluntary repudiation of pleasures and objects within our power, and promising immediate gratification. Now, as was formerly indicated, this can never be assured so long as the gratifica- tions of the present life are all that we 'practically expect. The very supposition of such a thing is felt to be absurd. Even were the kind of happi- ness which morality ultimately has in view ear- nestly desired by us, it could hardly be expected that we would sacrifice present pleasures for what, P 226 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS at best, would be only a possibility. The kind of happiness which morality has in view, however, consisting in the realisation of a spirit of love, is by no means desired earnestly by creatures who are all, in the first instance, under the influence of selfishness. It is doubtful, indeed, as has been said, if it really would be desirable to any one, at the expense of a perpetual struggle, and sometimes of a sacrifice of the most intense present pleasures of life, were this world our only place of abode, and therefore the attainment of ijerfect love altogether impossible. It is, indeed, perhaps too much to say that it is even doubtful, since under such an assumption morality would really be a delusion ; for such an assumption would imply the falsehood of nature, and consequently distrust in God ; and such being the case, there could neither be right nor wrong, the laws of nature themselves being decep- tions, and their precepts, therefore, an utter mock- ery. Hence were the happiness involved in self-ap- probation our only motive to morality, we do not go too far in saying that under such a theory it would be instantly swept away — weakened as it would be by the conviction of its being merely part of a system of moral fraud — under the hope of gratified passion and the prospect of successful selfishness. No doubt the approbation of our fellow-creatures would exercise some influence, but it would rather be on our acts than on our principles. Hypocrisy, ^hich is the worst form of immorality, would in OF MORALITY. 22/ almost all cases serve our purpose as well, and in many instances even better, than sincerity. Not unfrequently, moreover, the opinion of the world would rather encourage us in immorality, as in duelling, gaming, sensual indulgence, pandering to popular passions, and even in personal selfish- ness, ivhen it proved successful. The only motive which can effectually induce human beings to seek by persevering self-control the acquisition of a moral character, is trust in an omniscient Being, giving us assurance that by such means we shall realise peace here and glory hereafter. From such a Being no thought can be concealed, and with Him, consequently, no hypocrisy can be available. Apart from this belief and this trust, there could be no such thing as moral sentiment, farther than mere instinctive good feeling might extend. This, however, as we have seen, would go but a very small length in checking the impulses of passion or the influence of selfishness. In a short time, indeed, under the habit of yielding to these, the power of instinctive good feeling would rapidly disappear, as is manifested continually in the history of human life. Men would become the mere slaves of passion and of selfishness, except in so far as they might be coerced by human laws. That such a result is not realised invariably, arises from some sense of God's presence, and some fear of His judgment, that still continues to linger in the minds even of the most depkaved. 228 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS Take this away, and earth would become a species of hell to those that inhabit it. But it cannot be. Every event of life, and every feeling of the mind, force the conviction upon us more or less precisely, that we are dependent, and that there must consequently be some being to whom this conviction of dependence directs us as its co-relative. The primary feelings of approbation and disapprobation are thus in a measure sus- tained, and a kind of real moral sentiment, though rarely of a very practical character, is thus preserved to leaven as it were the commini- ity. Were this not the case, our world, as has been said, would become a species of hell, for we should have natures assimilated to those which w^e ascribe to devils. Every kind expression would be regarded, consequently, more or less as deceit, and every kind act more or less as treachery. Nor would this be without cause, since under such an assumption there could be no good groimd for belief in anything whatever. If God and nature were regarded as false, it would be difficult to con- ceive how phenomena derived from them could be trusted. It is absolutely horrible to think of such a condition of things, and yet such must be the condition of human beings apart from religion. The moment, however, that this element is introduced, everything changes. Our very sense of self-approbation and disapprobation assumes a new character, when they are known to be no I OF MORALITY. 229 more a mere feeling of happiness or depression, but an immediate reward conferred on us by Him wlio is the King of kings and the Lord of lords, the Creator, the Preserver, and the Disposer of all that exists. It is in seeking this reward, with all its concomitant blessings, after we have satisfied ourselves that it is to be found, that moral senti- ment becomes moral principle, and that a power is generated within us which conquers our passions and absorbs our selfishness. We know ourselves to be under a real government now, of which the laws are enacted by an all- wise and perfectly just Being, and wdiich must therefore, from their very essential perfection, bless those who obey, and curse those who violate them. Under such cir- cumstances, we not only become bound to observe those laws in respect of God himself, but we feel that there is an intimate relationship of which we were previously practically unconscious, con- stituted betwixt us and our fellow-creatures, as children of the same Almighty Father, and conse- quently as brethren in the highest sense, towards whom all the duties implied in such a relation- ship are to be fulfilled. On the fulfilment of such duties indeed, personal as well as social, under trust in the realisation of our primary and grand relationship to Him with whom they all originated, it becomes in the very nature of the case evident to us that true happiness must entirely depend. Duty and happiness are thus 230 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS identified. Our duty is our happiness, and our happiness our duty. The attainment of higher degrees of this mental state thus becomes more and more our great desire, because this mental state, implying a love of duty, can alone spirit- ually unite us with Him, in whose union with us the assurance of present peace and eternal blessed- ness is involved. As our trust in God, accord- ingly, gradually grows, our happiness proportion- ally increases, because our moral principles are thereby proportionally purified and intensified. The divine authority of moral and religious law becomes in this way additionally evidenced in its results. We know that it is of God, because we now feel God working it out in our consciousness, through a closer and closer union with Himself It is under this process that morality assumes, in the strictest sense, the character of a science, for thus its principles develop into a precise and definite form, and its motives exercise the most irresistible influence, inasmuch as it enforces and rewards itself, to every one that endeavours practically to realise it. We feel, in fact, that we are placed in this world as in a state of discipline, for the purpose of preparing ourselves to occiipy a higher position in the scale of creation. We dis- cover that it is the object of the Supreme Being to train us here to self-control by perpetual trial, and thereby to establish in us, through our own persevering efforts, the princii^les of self-respect OF MORALITY. 23 I and social love, under subordination to, and in consequence of, our love for and trust in Himself. We thus acquire a character identifying us witli the moral and intelligent universe, as part of a great whole ; and it is a character which we cannot lose, because, acquired under discipline, its essential ex- cellence as blessing those who possess it in itself has been confirmed by personal experience. This, we have no hesitation in saying, is the only possible theory of morality, except that of selfishness, under which we can neither be bound by any sense of duty, nor determined by any obli- gation of right or wrong. We have, indeed, apart from trust in God, a certain degree of mutual good feeling and a certain amount of prudence, sufficient, perhaps, to save our race from destroy- ing each other. But beyond these narrow limits, personal gratification would be the only rule of our conduct in reference either to ourselves or others. Whereas the moment that we begin to realise the happiness involved in trust on the Almighty, as contradistinguished from our con- dition without it, there is a principle of delight in the enjoyment of the spirit of love gener- ated, which no sensual passion can ever wholly eradicate, nor any amount of selfishness ever wholly destroy. Apart from the system now developed, we repeat that selfishness is the only theory of morals that can admit even the appear- ance of being logically defended. All others, be 232 NATURE AND OBLIGATIONS they what they may, either merely give names to unknown causes, or confuse incidents and conse- quences with principles. Indeed, this is so far true also of the selfish theory ; but it has the advantage of appealing to a principle which, though really the reverse of moral, yet does serve nearly to account for the ordinary moral conduct that is exhibited in human life. A desire for our own personal welfare is undoubtedly an operative principle ; and we are all so conscious of this, that it gives a plausibility to the selfish theory to which it is in no measure entitled on its merits ; and has left it, indeed, almost the only system in modern times which can be said to possess dis- ciples, or to which any precise value is attached. It is well that men should understand this, and understand the grounds on which the religious theory and this selfish theory respectively rest. The religious theory is founded on the assump- tion that God having enacted laws by which human beings are bound in a spirit of love towards their fellow-creatures and Himself, requires those laws to be worked out under a system of discipline which ennobles our natures in preparing them for a higher state of existence. Its proof, as will now be seen, is found in its full and thorough explana- tion of all the phenomena, putting its evidence on a level with the most perfect philosophical evi- dence of physical science. This theory thus makes morality a portion of the grand scheme of the OF MORALITY. 233 universe, harmonising and perfecting that scheme in the spiritual, as all men admit that it is har- monised and perfected in the physical world. The selfish theory, on the other hand, implies a sys- tem of absolute confusion and disorganisation. It makes the spiritual universe not only something anomalous, but, in contrast with the physical uni- verse, something ridiculous and monstrous. In- deed, if we were to imagine systems the most entirely antipodes, so as to exhibit the parts of nature mocking each other, it would be the perfect adaptations and organisation of the physical, as compared with the incongruities, inconsistencies, and contradictions of the spiritual world, assum- ing the truth of the selfish theory of morality. But the fact is, that the selfish theory of morality is untenable, not only on the ground now mentioned, but, as we trust has been proved, under whatever aspect it is possible to regard it. It can only, in- deed, admit of the appearance of a defence under the supposition that there is no God in whom we can put confidence, no truth in the teaching of nature, and no future state of existence ; that con- sequently, as there can be no happiness here, except by deadening spiritual thought, so when the brief season of life passes away, we descend to the grave, rot, perish, and are forgotten. If this WERE THE CASE, OF ALL DECEPTIONS OUR WORLD WOULD BE THE WORST, AND OF ALL LIES OUE NA- TURES WOULD BE THE MOST ATROCIOUS. CHAPTER III. DETAILS OF MORALITY. RECAPITULATION — DETAILS OF MORALITY — MORALITY CONSISTS NOT IN ACTS, BUT IN INTENTION AND A STATE OF MIND — ILLUS- TRATED — CATEGORIES UNDER WHICH THE DETAILS OF MORALITY ARE COMPREHENDED — LOVE OF OURSELVES — LOVE OF OUR FEL- LOW-CREATURES—LOVE OF OUR GOD— THERE CAN BE NO SUF- FICIENT MOTIVE OR OBLIGATION TO MORALITY APART FROM RELIGION — NATURE OF MORAL LAW ACCORDING TO THIS THEORY, AND MODE OF ITS REALISATION— EFFECT OF THIS REALISATION ON CHARACTER. We have now determined tlie nature and obliga- tions of morality. Morality, we liave seen, con- sists in realising tlie spiritual laws of our natures, so that each may preserve its proper place, and each particular exist in its own suitable subordina- tion. The obligations of morality result from the effect of such realisation of spiritual law in bless- ing each individual and the whole of the human race with the highest possible amount of happi- ness attainable under the natures with which they are constituted. The proof of the obligation is found in the teaching of nature, that such not DETAILS OF MORALITY. 235 only will be, but must be, the result; because as we are compelled by the constitution of our natures to seek the highest happiness attainable, there is in this a declaration of nature that we ought to seek it by the most earnest and assid- uous use of the means which are in our power. The supposition that nature may be deceiving us, or that reason may be deluding us, we have already shown to be inadmissible, because the teaching of nature and reason is all that we have to trust to in any case ; and therefore to disbelieve them practically, is to deny the validity of our faculties, and this evidently involves what to us must imply a contradiction in terms. This highest happiness which we are to seek, as we have farther seen, must regard our future as well as our present happiness, since our grand ob- ject in life is not only to secure intense, but also permanent happiness. Such happiness, however, can neither be assured by anything that we can do, nor by any assistance that we can receive from our fellow-creatures. It must be the gift of the Supreme Being through that trust in Him which is the highest of our moral states, as implying the most intense and permanent happiness in its own enjoyment. Such trust is to be acquired by a perpetual endeavour at fulfilling His laws. This is made manifest from the self-apj)robation which our efforts for the purpose generate, as well as from the general happiness of our race, which the 236 DETAILS OF MORALITY. success of our efforts at fulfilling the spiritual laws of our natures lias an invariable tendency to realise. Sucli efforts, indeed, constitute true prac- tical prayer, through which the moral character is gradually constituted, and without which mere formal prayer would of itself be absolutely worth- less. By thus endeavouring to live continually under a sense of God's presence, we bring God every moment more and more into union with our souls. It could not be otherwise, because we are using the means wdiich God has appointed; and in this, accordingly, the principle which ought to rule all our relationships in life acquires prac- tically by degrees an irresistible influence. The special modes under which this principle is realised, so far as our reason enables us to dis- cover them, constitute the details of morality. It will now, however, be perceived that the character of these details is something very different from what is usually imagined. It is now clear that the assumption of certain external acts, as consti- tuting the details of morality, and thence being imiversally obligatory, is as absurd in theory as it is inconsistent with all experience. This error, into which almost all writers on moral philosophy have fallen, originates in a misconception of the very nature of morality. Morality is a state of mind, and has nothing to do w^ith external acts, except in so far as they may realise such state of mind. This of itself shows that universal rules DETAILS OF MORALITY. 237 cannot be laid clown witli respect to external acts, nor can sucli acts at all times be obligatory. The very act wbicli might proceed from a spirit of love in one case, might proceed from a spirit of selfish- ness in another ; and the act which in one case might be for the public good, might in another prove detrimental to it. There can, for example, be no more universal precept than that which commands ns not to kilL Yet even this precept must be received under many exceptions. The act which, under one set of circumstances, would be murder, may under other and different circumstances be ad- missible, or even meritorious, — as in the case of a soldier fighting for his country, or an executioner fulfilling the law. The case may be made even stronger. To us the slaughter by the clans of a former age of those who had previously put to death their clansmen, seems, and is frequently spoken of as, indefensible. Yet the very same thing is sanctioned under the Old Testament dis- pensation. The Goel or blood - avenger of the Jewish law was simply the nearest relative of a man who had been slain, armed with divine authority to slay the slayer. Nor can there be any doubt that this was perfectly in conformity with the principles of morality. It was the best arrangement that could be made under the cir- cumstances. It prevented greater evils. It was the criminal law of a low sta^j^e of civilisation. 2^S DETAILS OF MORALITY. In the same way amongst ns, the purity of the female character is perhaps, of all other things, the most essential to human happiness. Yet amongst the Jews, polygamy, concubinage, and divorce were, if not formally sanctioned, at all events permitted; and again we say there can be no doubt that it was perfectly in conformity with the principles of morality. To understand this, it must be observed that marriage and con- cubinage amongst the Jews meant substantially the same thing. Concubines were wives, the families of whom were deprived of some of the privileges of succession. These concubines were persons of inferior rank, frequently slaves. That such persons should be bound by legal ties to a husband, was evidently conducive to the interests of society. Morally, therefore, the arrangement was right ; for the object of morality is not, as we have seen, any external act or condition in itself, but the realisation of such acts or conditions as may promote the highest welfare of society physi- cally and spiritually. To have left the inferior class of females, and especially slaves, subjected to the brutality of men in a low state of civilisa- tion, would have degraded both them and their families infinitely more than to give them the character of married women, and their families the character of legitimate children. That the privileges of families were unequal, in so far as the rights of succession were concerned, no more DETAILS OF MORALITY. 239 implied an immoral arrangement, than the pri- vileges accorded to eldest sons among many civilised nations. This arrangement of Judaism under such a state of society practically tended much more to the promotion of the general wel- fare, and to moral purity, than the unrecognised connections that were usual among the heathen, under which, even in Greece and Eome, men's own children became their slaves, and the female character was so degraded as to deteriorate to a great extent the moral habits and principles of whole nations. On exactly similar grounds may the laxity of divorce allowed by the Jewish law be morally defended. It was the remedy for that harshness and those divisions which, under such a state of society, and in connection with poly- gamy, must have been productive of incalcul- able evils, had the marriage tie in every case been indissoluble, or even nearly so. For those who were divorced, moreover, a certain provision was made, so as to check and control the worst consequences which loose divorce might have occasioned. From all this it will still further appear that morality does not consist in any act, as is usually supposed, but in intention and a state of mind. Acts are only of importance in so far as the individual doing them is concerned, as embodying and fostering the state of mind. Wherever they are inconsistent with what ought to be the state of 240 DETAILS OF MORALITY. mind, tliey increase the evil and augment tlie sin. Even where they are of all others most calculated to promote the public welfare, they are not moral acts, as the selfish theory implies, unless they pro- ceed from that love which is the essence of moral principle. Hence it is manifest that the ordinary systems of moral philosophy, as they are called, are not really systems of moral philosophy, but either systems more or less perfect of jurispru- dence, or more frequently mere systems of casuis- try. The true details of morality consist in the determination of those states of mind which con- stitute morality. When these are determined, no doubt rules for the guidance of our conduct in particular cases may be deduced from them. This, however, is not moral philosophy. As has been said, the moment that we depart from the determination of mental states, in connection with the general character of conduct which they imply, and enter on a determination of the nature of acts, as suitable for various conditions and cii^- cumstances of society, we instantly begin to appeal to a new science. This appears manifest from the consideration that morality is immutable, but the special acts that embody it vary, as we have seen, with every change in human intelligence, and every modification of human circumstances. We do not mean, however, to maintain that rules for the regulation of human conduct may not be applied to special or growing degrees of intelli- DETAILS OF MORALITY. 24I geiice. Quite the reverse. They may be so, and ought to be so, if it were only for the sake of illustrating principles. But we maintain that if they be suitable for a high degree of intelli- gence and civilisation, they can only gradually be brought into practical operation. In such cases, therefore, they ought to be only very generally stated in connection with the principles which they are intended to embody, so that their details may practically evolve themselves, as society, in the progress of civilisation, becomes capable of receiving them. The details of morality, there- fore, instead of being complicated by multitudes of exceptions, and of exceptions to those excep- tions, as in systems of jurisprudence or casuistry, are most singularly simple, precise, and intelli- gible. They may be comprehended under the three categories of love of ourselves, love of our fellow-creatures, and love of our God. 1. Love of ourselves. It may at first sight seem surprising that we should consider love of ourselves as a portion of morality. This arises, however, from the general misconception as to what morality means. For it means the realisa- tion of the spiritual laws of our whole natures ; and it will not, we presume, be denied that love of ourselves constitutes a portion of those laws. Indeed, love of ourselves — or, in other words, an incessant desire for the most intense and perman- ent happiness — constitutes the motive, as we have o 242 DETAILS OF MORALITY. already seen, which impels ns to obey any spirit- ual law. This love of ourselves is not selfishness, but, on the contrary, is frequently the very reverse of selfishness. Hence the absurdity of those who have called the purest morality a species of self- ishness. This is a mere abuse of terms. Selfish- ness is a love of ourselves which excludes the love of others, and therefore implies the violation of spiritual law. True love of ourselves seeks its enjoyment in the maintenance of our natures, both physical and spiritual, under such conditions as will give the fullest scope for the gratification of all the spiritual laws of our natures, and must therefore ultimately secure our most perfect hap- piness. On this account it commands the preservation of our bodily health, the increase of our physical strength, and the maintenance in their fullest vigour of all our intellectual powers and moral tendencies, as essential for the practical develop- ment and perfection of our being. Any conduct, therefore, which may, without sufficient cause, impair our bodily health, or physical strength, or, still more, weaken our mental faculties or our moral tendencies, -is morally wrong. We say in the former case, without sufficient cause, because our essential characteristic being the spirituality of our natures, it follows that, in the performance of spiritual duty, mere physical results can be considered as comparatively of little consequence. DETAILS OF MORALITY. 243 and this tlie more especially as our physical frames can only last for a short time, whilst our spiritual being is to last for ever. Hence the maintenance of our intellectual powers and mo- ral tendencies in their full vigour must be our primary object. Gluttony, therefore, drunkenness, profligacy of every kind, together with all studies, ideas, and feelings calculated to weaken the in- tellectual powers or the moral tendencies, are, by the laws of our natures, strictly forbidden. On the other hand, temperance, courage, self-control, together with all studies, ideas, and feelings cal- culated to strengthen our intellectual powers or moral tendencies, are by the same laws com- manded. In this view it will be easily perceived that we must specially guard against self-deception, be- cause it opens an entrance for every kind of prac- tical evil. All our moral habits, and consequently all our moral feelings, would necessarily in a longer or shorter time become perverted by the permanent indulgence of false principles or opinions. A knowledge of ourselves, therefore, with the least possible admixture of prejudice or error, must necessarily be the steady aim of those who desire to regulate their conduct by the laws of nature. This consideration implies the duty of truth. No doubt we are morally bound to truthfulness from the very nature of our beings. Our power of speech, and generally our capability of communi- 244 DETAILS OF MORALITY. eating our ideas and feelings to others, could not have been bestowed upon us for the 'purpose of deceiving, or, in other words, for the purjjose of con- cealing such ideas and feelings. It would be as reasonable to suppose that our eyes w^ere given for the purpose of being closed, or our ears for the purpose of being stopped. But, besides, false- hood necessarily leads to self-deception. By a law of our natures we cannot habitually deceive others without partially deceiving ourselves ; and thus a habitual liar, we know, as matter of experi- ence, comes absolutely to lose the power of dis- criminating betwixt truth and falsehood. In like manner, he who accustoms himself to reason under the influence of prejudice, as having adopted par- ticular theories without knowing hiinself comes to lose more or less the power of discriminating strict logical truth. He looks at every process of reason- ing which affects his prejudice through a distorting medium. The same result follows in the case of those who, from whatever cause, acquire a habit of disputation, and who are, therefore, prepared to pervert the ordinary sense of words, or to use them in a sense under which they are manifestly not employed by their opponents, in order to secure an argumentative triumph. Such persons, again, absolutely lose the power of discriminating strict logical truth, and become necessarily a species of sceptics under a hallucination that they are search- ing for fundamental principles ! We have in such DETAILS OF MORALITY. 245 results the constitution of a moral obligation of the strongest kind. The proof is farther confirmed, if it needed confirmation, by the destruction of social relations, which habitual falsehood of every hind involves, and this will still more fully appear from a consideration of the second category of moral detail to which our attention is next to be directed. 2. Love of our fellow-creatures. That there is such a feeling as love of our fellow-creatures, our own consciousness assures us. We know, farther, in our consciousness, that we love our fellow- creatures in a greater or less degree, according to the intimacy of relationship which subsists be- tween us and them, or substantively in proportion to the degree in which we believe them really to love us. But, more or less, we sympathise with them all. On the other hand, we desire that they should love us, and as this desire is realised, a closer connection is constituted between us. This love of human beings towards each other is beyond all doubt a primary emotion. It is of the very essence of our natures. A desire for the advan- tages which our fellow-creatures have it in their power to bestow might generate external courtesy, but could not possibly originate a spiritual emotion of love. It could not therefore originate a dispo- sition or character with which mere considerations of personal interest have nothing whatever to do. It is love alone which oenerates love. A man 246 DETAILS OF MORALITY. iniglit load us witli benefits, and might be prepared to augment them indefinitely, and we might meet his liberality with profuse professions of love; and yet if we did not believe that he loved us, we could not possibly love him in the proper and spiritual sense of the term. Even supposing our sympathies with the joys and sorrows of others were explicable under a sort of identification with what we might imagine would be our own joys and sorrows in identical circumstances, this would in no measure account for the variety of degrees in the intensity of our sympathies. Love and the feeling of sympathy, under any aspect in which the subject can be regarded, imply original ten- dencies, or rather an original tendency, for they are substantively the same feeling. Its constitu- tion under a secondary form cannot be explained by any imaginable process. Hence it follows that this tendency must be universal ; and this accord- ingly is found to be the case. All human beings have a certain pleasure in doing good to their fellow-creatures ; and as we sympathise with the joys, so do we, in a still greater extent perhaps, sympathise with the sufferings, of all that come under our cognisaoice. The conclusion thus derived from our admitted feelings is amply confirmed by the mutual depen- dence upon each other under which human beings are constituted. Indeed, our happiness so depends upon our fellow -creatures that we should not DETAILS OF MORALITY. 24/ only be miserable were we without society, but apart from the love and care of their fellow- creatures, our race could not continue to exist. ^o doubt, our sense of dependence is felt in its highest extent with respect to those who are the most intimately connected with us. There is, how- ever, no human being of whom we can be said to be absolutely independent. Every one near us may have an opportunity of doing us good, and certainly might, if so inclined, do us a serious amount of harm. Even those who inhabit the most distant lands, and know nothing of us personally what- ever, may by their wars and discords, by their energies and science, by their instructions and discoveries, by their principles and conduct, tell most materially on our welfare. If, therefore, we are thoroughly to realise, so far as lies in our power, that spiritual law of nature which is thus manifestly intended to bind us to our fellow-creatures, we must seek the welfare of our race, looking not merely to the indulgence of individuals for the moment, but to the most in- tense and permanent happiness that can be secured for all mankind. Specially, we are forbidden to indulge one of our fellow-creatures at the expense of another, not merely because the universal adop- tion of such a principle would disorganise society, but because it is a manifest violation of the law of love, as disturbing the Almighty's arrangements. From the nature of the relationship which unites 248 DETAILS OF MORALITY. US with Him as creatures to a Creator, our love for Him ought to be infinitely the most intense of all ; and proportionately great, of course, ought to be our reverence for all that He has appointed and done. In like manner, we are forbidden to con- cede lesser gratifications at the moment, although people may eagerly desire it, at the expense of higher and more permanent happiness ultimately.* From these premises results our obligation to all the moral duties of truth, equity, and purity, They all spring from the primary feeling of love, realised in its fullest and most perfect form. Of course, however, this does not imply that we should love all human beings precisely in the same degree. Nature has bound us to some by more intimate relationships, and there are multitudes of acts of kindness and affection which we ought to realise towards those more intimately connected with us, proportionately to the intimacy of connection, but to which others have no claim. Our love to our fellow-creatures, farther, under these principles, ought to be modified according to the measure of their moral excellence. From the very nature of love, indeed, we must hate immorality, and crush it by every means in our power, since, being opposed directly to the spirit of love, it must necessarily * Looking to tliis world alone, the same act might be useful to one and injurious to another. Connecting this world with eternity, however, that which is right rtnist he beneficial to all, and that tchich is ivrong injurious to all. It is evidently a false morality which divides society into majorities and minorities. DETAILS OF MORALITY. 249 prove destructive of that happiness which love stimulates us to secure for every human being. Immorality, indeed, or excess of selfishness, it will now appear manifest, is a moral disease generated partly by the abuse of free-will and partly by the power of habit, and, as tending, consequently, both to individual and social misery, is to be eradicated by every legitimate instrumentality. It is the abnormal growth of one portion of our spiritual natures at the expense of the rest, and, unless time- ously checked, must end in hopeless wretchedness. Now, for the purpose of checking it in ourselves, we must, in the first instance, watch over our actions in connection with the motives influencing o us. We have already described the effect of our actings on the character of our minds, and every one must be sensible of it from personal experi- ence. A continued course of selfish acts will harden our hearts, so as almost to destroy the power of love ; a continued struggle, on the other hand, against selfishness, and a continued perse- verance in kind acts, will steadily strengthen the power of love, and cliange that conduct, which we realised at first as a matter of duty and wisdom, into the highest and most heartfelt happiness. Nor wdll the effect be limited to ourselves ; our example will tell upon others. So soon as the conviction is forced upon them that we are sincere, our example will influence not merely the gener- ality of our fellow-creatures, but the most debased 250 DETAILS OF MORALITY. and degraded of tliem. Our morality will thus be doubly blessed. No doubt, our advice, our exhortations, and our precepts may also be most useful ; but we must never forget that, apart from our example, they will not only be in vain, but, as believed to be manifestations of hypocrisy, may prove absolutely pernicious. The infliction of punishment, moreover, for the purpose of com- pelling men to be moral, it will now be obvious, is altogether inadmissible, except in so far as the punishment can be identified in the mind of the sufferer with the criminality of the inteyition. For morality consists in a state of mind, and arbitrary punishment, consequently, neither directly nor indirectly connected therewith, may make men hypocrites, but could never create moral disposi- tions in them. Hence the caution which should be exercised in the chastisement of children, which, if inflicted arbitrarily, or, as they believe, unde- servedly, will do a vast deal more harm than good. We are indeed entitled to inflict arbitrary punish- ment for breaches of the moral law which disorgan- ise society; but this, though consistent with mor- ality, is not for the purpose of generating moral dispositions, but for the purpose of regulating human conduct ; and is, therefore, not justifiable strictly under moral law, but under anotlier form of spiritual law, which God has sanctioned in the constitution of political government. According to this view, the fundamental prin- DETAILS OF MORALITY. 25 1 ciples of morality assume, in so far at all events, a new character. That which is called the science of casuistry, by which the relative suitableness of acts is determined, and the rules of which must therefore change with the changing phases of society, ceases to be regarded as a branch of moral philosophy, because moral philosophy has nothing to do with acts, apart from the motives which generate them. Whatever we do with a sincere desire to preserve our own faculties in vigour, and at the same time to bless and benefit individuals where individuals only are directly concerned, or society at large where the interests of society at large are involved, is done in conformity wdth the principles of morality. It is the intention, and not the act, which is morally right or wrong. We may be utterly mistaken as to the effect of the act, and yet our moral rectitude may be unim- peachable. No doubt we must endeavour care- fully to ascertain what is best calculated to pre- serve the vigour of our faculties, and to bless and benefit mankind ; but this is for the very pur- pose of giving the fullest effect to our intentions. Some knowledge of medicine, therefore, as well as some knowledge of casuistry, seems to be neces- sary for the full practical realisation of our moral principles. Neither, however, constitutes part of moral philosophy ; nor is a knowledge of the details of these sciences of any material import- ance. The more minute details of either medicine 252 DETAILS OF MORALITY. or casuistry, indeed, rarely admit of being abso- lutely ascertained, because their determination depends upon circumstances, which are liable to an almost infinite series of modifications. In endeavouring, therefore, to ascertain that which will be for the most intense and permanent happiness both of ourselves and others, we can hardly require any knowledge either of the one or the other, which is not common, through their own experience, to every individual of the human race. Eight intention is consequently almost all that w^e practically need for the pur- pose of realising our moral principles in our practice.* In thus far, then, w^e have a very plain, and at the same time a strictly logical argument, proving that there are spiritual laws directing us how we ought to feel, and generally how to act, both with reference to ourselves and our fellow-creatures. Here, however, in the details of morality, as we found previously in determining its general prin- ■" Tlie intention must originate in a love for others identical in the effects which it produces with love of ourselves. Hence it must be the same in principle. "We would thus no more injure a fellow-creature than we would injure ourselves ; and we have a similar pleasure in doing them good, according to the intimacy of relationship that they bear to us. This state of mind, in so far as it can be attained, is a gradual approach to the restoration of the balance of our moral natures. Thus it will be seen how entirely a realisation of the principle of moral law will supersede even in practice the necessity of the pre- cepts of casuistr}'-. DETAILS OF MORALITY. 253 ciples, we are met by counteracting tendencies. These tendencies cannot indeed be called laws of nature, because they are simply excesses of law — or, in other words, spiritual diseases, which inci- dental causes have produced. They are abnormal expansions of portions of our spiritual natures. Hence they destroy the balance of those natures, so that some portions of them being indulged at the expense of others, ultimate misery is the result prognosticated by that immediate sense of remorse or self-disapprobation which was formerly described. It looks, at first sight, as if nature, designing a certain purpose, had either left it im- perfect, or that some incidental change had been introduced under the working of spiritual law, which had counteracted the proposed result. A more careful examination of the phenomena of the spiritual world enables us thoroughly to re- solve the difficulty. Without attempting to dis- cover what may have been the primary moral condition of mankind, we are assured, on irre- sistible evidence, that they are now existing in a state of discipline as essential to the perfection of their moral natures. Such being the case, we are assured farther, in the very nature of the fact itself, that sufficient means must exist under this state of discipline, through which, if we choose to make them available, the balance which ought to subsist among the parts of our spiritual being may be restored, and the grand object of our crea- 254 DETAILS OF MORALITY. tion thus rendered attainable. Accordingly, we can discover, on still farther inquiry, not only that such means actually exist, but that the whole phenomena of the universe attest them. There is a power everywhere displaying itself that meets the very want under which we labour, and which is sufficient not only to restore the balance among the parts of our spiritual being, but of itself to elevate us to a higher and nobler position in the scale of existence, blessing us with peace here, and everlasting glory hereafter. This brings us to a consideration of the third form of love, which completes the details of morality. 3. Love of God. That there is a feeling of love for our fellow - creatures, or rather, perhaps we should say, a tendency to love our fellow-creatures, implanted in the human mind, seems ascertained beyond contradiction, and also that such feeling or tendency implies trust in the love of those whom we love. True love, therefore, or love in principle, must be limited to moral qualities, and must be proportioned to the degree in which we believe those whom we love to possess such qualities. For the possession of moral qualities, implying, in so far as they are possessed, the sub- jugation of selfishness, necessarily implies also the only character which can be loved. Selfishness cannot be loved. Even the most unprincipled, consequently, ascribe some moral quality to those whom they really love. They may be greatly DETAILS OF MORALITY. 255 mistaken with respect to tlie measure of the quality or qualities which they ascribe to them, but they must ascribe to them some love for themselves, or it would be impossible, in any intelligible sense of the word, that they could love them; and hence persevering kindness will ulti- mately conciliate the love of every one who is not utterly depraved. It is, on the contrary, hardly possible that a mother could love even her own child, did she believe it devoid of every moral feeling. To realise any approach to perfect love, there- fore, we must manifestly realise the existence of a perfectly moral being, whose very essence is love, and who, abhorring every excess of selfish- ness, would reciprocate pure love with the most intense affection. Now, as we have already seen, such is the essential nature of God. We are con- nected with Him by the closest of all relation- ships, as creature to Creator, as preserved to Pre- server, as dependent on Him who is absolutely independent, and from whom alone, therefore, every blessing must come. A breach of our rela- tionsliip with God, consequently, implies a breach of all our other relationships ; since, if we fail to love Him who is love, and to whom we owe every- thing, it is impossible that we can truly love His creatures, whose love can be only a shadowy reflex of that of their Creator, seeing that they are as dependent upon Him as we are. The man w^ho 256 DETAILS OF MORALITY. repudiates the obligations of a higher relationship knowingly, cannot be trusted with respect to a low- er relationship, when its obligations interfere with what he believes to be his personal interests. He that violates, for example, the love which he owes to parents who have manifested towards him the most unceasing and affectionate tenderness, could not be trusted by any one else where his own interests or passions were liable to be traversed. Still less can he who violates the love which he owes to his God * be trusted by men, since not only is the relationship infinitely closer than any other, but the dependence of creatures on their Creator is infinitely greater than on any other being, and can never for a moment be suspended. All this becomes the more striking when we consider that moral law, however certainly en- acted by nature, can, away from trust in God, * It is quite true that a certain love must be realised towards our fellow-creatures before we can properly realise love for God, because we know their relationship to us before we can know the nature of God, or, consequently, His relationship to us in any distinct form. This, however, has no bearing on our pre- sent subject. Our argument merely amounts to this, that lower obligations must be subordinated to higher when we are made acquainted with them, or else it is a proof that that which we mistake for love is a mere form of selfishness. It may also be added, as will be now manifest from the whole tenor of our argument, that to appreciate in its fulness the immensity of the love of God, we must connect that purpose of discipline on account of wliich vje are placed here, with the glorious results which it is calculated to work out on our position in the uni- verse and our everlasting blessedness. DETAILS OF MORALITY. 257 imply no sufficient obligation. On the contrary, trust in God is the only e^ectual ohligation which nature has provided for urging us to morality. It may be wise for us, no doubt, to observe the moral law in the generality of cases, because this may in an exclusively selfish sense tend to promote our welfare. It is right to observe the moral law, because right means simply obedience to law. It might, however, be argued, that if right mean '' obedience to law," it would seem right to obey the stronojest law, which would be the desires that our inclinations for the time press most vehemently upon us. No doubt these really do not constitute " law," but, as has been said, " the excess of certain laws," as counteracting certain other laws, in which we have the proof and measure of the excess. Yet the tendency which we have to indulge such excess of law in certain cases, weakens our sense of obligation involved in the operation of the law itself For the measure of obligation can only be ascertained by the struggle of self-control required to outweigh the influence of immediate impulse. It is impossible that the measure of " obligation " could be otherwise de- termined. If a man feel satisfied, therefore, that on the whole his highest and most permanent happiness would be promoted by what is usually called immorality, or by special acts of such im- morality, it seems obvious that, so far as the word " obliged" could be used with propriety at all, he 258 DETAILS OF MORALITY. would be olliged to act immorally. No doubt lie would be mistaken ; but it is a mistake into wliicb we are assured from experience that a great pro- portion of the human race would fall. This is a conclusion against which there seems no possi- bility of contending. That must be right which is in conformity with the spiritual laws of our natures, and those must be the regulating spiritual laws of our natures, even when really in excess, which seem likely, on the whole, to afford us the most intense and permanent happiness. These both reason and common sense would necessarily urge us, therefore, proportionally to obey. Nor does it make the slightest difference to the conclu- sion that we introduce such words as conscience, remorse, approbation, or disapprobation, since ex- cept in so far as they imply the approbation or disapprobation of the Supreme Being, they can mean nothing save forms of happiness or unhappi- ness. It is true that these words are frequently used in a sort of mysterious or magical sense; but to do this is merely to deceive ourselves by attempting to cut the knot which we find ourselves unable to untie. It is a matter of demonstration, therefore, that we must appeal to a higher form of love and of law, or the difficulty is insuperable. Nothing save such happiness begun here as would involve in itself the assurance of intense and permanent happiness growing here, and perfected in a future DETAILS OF MORALITY. 259 world, could constitute such a moral obligation as that the spiritual laws of nature would be sufi&ci- ently strengthened for the purpose of sanctioning and vindicating themselves. For this purpose, therefore, we must endeavour to realise a fuller and fuller trust in the Supreme Being. We must try to see Him in every event of life, and feel a consciousness of His presence in every thought, motive, and feeling. We must learn not merely theoretically and in profession, but practically, to realise our entire dependence upon Him, and to look to His love alone for the attainment of every blessing in life.* This effort will vindicate, as obedience to emry natural law must do, its own propriety and its own power. We shall be made to feel in our consciousness that it is effecting its object. When this state of mind is attained, or * The theory that all things comprehending our spiritual states are ruled by general laws, which the Supreme Being has indeed primarily called into operation, but over which, notwith- standing the disorganisation which may be caused by the acts of free-will creatures, He subsequently exercised no control, which was the doctrine of certain of the ancient philosophers, is really atheism in disguise. It implies that the Supreme Being has, for a time at all events, ceased to realise the practical relation- ship which binds the Creator to His creatures. But this is just what we mean by immorality, and consequently the theory — if that can be called a theory which is self-contradictory— implies a direct charge of immorality against God. That we are not sensible directly, through our perceptions, of God being present with us every moment, is true, but we can be made sensible of it in our conscious experience if we use the means, and through them seek to realise the assurance. 26o DETAILS OF MORALITY. is attaining, our sense of its conformity to our higher nature gradually expands. It is more and more becoming its own reward, because it is becoming felt and known as that trust in God which excludes all fear and supersedes all suffer- ing. It is what we speak of as the joy of heaven beginning on earth, by realising to us that union with God which enables us to regard Him as a father. Our duties, as has been said, are now therefore no longer duties but pleasures, and thus the harmony of all the spiritual laws of our nature is perfecting, which, as is evident, constitutes, and must from the very nature of things constitute, the consummation of spiritual blessedness. Whether all this can be fully attained under the teaching and influence of natural religion, is again quite another question. With that question at present we have nothing to do. It is certain that such happiness can be attained by some means, unless nature be purposely deceiving us, since nature is perpetually urging us to seek it. It is, moreover, certain that it cannot be attained apart from religion, since apart from religion we can neither have thorough peace for the present, nor any secur^ity tvhatever for the future, either in this world or beyond the grave. It is stiU further certain, that without it there can be no approach to any solid foundation for a theory of morality, inasmuch as there is no other conceivable way DETAILS OF MORALITY. 26I under which the laws of nature could be made to balance, and thus to vindicate themselves. We do not, of course, mean by this, as will be obvious from our previous observations, that apart from religion there is no argument against vice, and in favour of virtue. On the contrary, we maintain that generally it would be wise to resist vicious propensities, and to cultivate virtuous dispositions, as a mere matter of worldly prudence. But we equally maintain, what no one with any know- ledge of the world will venture to dispute, that apart from religion it would he a matter of no great consequence if a man could only play the part of a hypocrite pretty M^ell. Apart from religion, indeed, morality would in many cases be exceeding folly, as depriving us of such grati- fications as the world can afford, and exposing us to serious worldly loss and suffering without any prospect of equivalent compensation either here or hereafter. We maintain, further, in conclu- sion, that as matter of fact, apart altogether from religion, men would become practically indifferent to morality, and, when not acting under impulse, would at the best be guided by the most exclu- sive views of selfish prudence in whatever con- duct they might choose to pursue. Eeally dis- interested kindness must of necessity vanish from the earth, and any domestic or social happi- ness which human beings could enjoy would be of the lowest and most debasing kind, without 262 DETAILS OF MORALITY. one hope that it could be either elevated or aug- mented.* It is pure trifling, as we have partially indi- cated, to speak of approbation or disapprobation in such a case, as felt either by ourselves or our fellow-creatures, since it is clear that, if they * It lias been suggested that instinctive affection, such as mothers bear to their children, would constitute a motive in addition to selfishness or mere self-gratification. The fact is, however, that love in all cases is an instinctive emotion in the sense of its being a primary and essential emotion of our natures. That a mother's love is generally more intense, may be perfectly true, though it also may be superseded by selfish- ness ; but the love which we have to any of our fellow-creatures is just as thoroughly an instinctive feeling as a mother's love. It is the want of intensity that causes the ordinary love which we bear to our fellow-creatures to be less effective, and conse- quently more easily superseded ; and it is religion alone that can give it the necessary intensity, by identifying it with our highest and most permanent because essential happiness. Bringing us into communion with God, it gives love a charac- ter which otherwise cannot be realised, as both blessing us in itself, and assuring us of every other blessing through which our natural desires can be gratified. Without any trust in God, therefore, to sustain it, love must quickly be superseded by the irresistible power of selfishness strengthened by habit ; and there would consequently be no domestic or social love even, except in so far as the members of families or societies might flatter each other's vanity under a sort of tacit compro- mise, or might feel some interest in those who were necessary to the promotion of their own enjoyments and comfort. The love felt under such circumstances is just a mere remnant of the instinctive feeling preserved and cherished as a species of self- ishness, and essential to selfish enjoyment ; and instead of being of the pure and disinterested character which the word is understood to express, must necessarily be of the low and debasing kind described in the text. DETAILS OF MORALITY. 263 possessed any adequate power, they would vindi- cate themselves. It is, if possible, still more absurd to speak of the obligation to morality involved in the laws of nature, inasmuch as, apart from religion, the obligation involved in the laws of nature would not only be an in- sufficient motive, but would in many instances actually incline against morality. Apart from religion, indeed, our conduct would of neces- sity be regulated solely by a consideration of that which on the whole woTild be most con- ducive to the gratification of our own desires and the promotion of our own interests. Were this the actual condition of society, so that even the unconsciously operating influences of religion were wanting, human life would be a curse, and intelligent existence a diabolical mockery. Eeligion, therefore, as expounding and realising the nature of the Supreme Being, and the relation in which we stand to Him, can be the only sound foundation of morality. Apart from religion, morality is little more than a mere delusion, having no solid basis on which to rest, and no sufficient, nor nearly sufficient, motives to enforce it. Whereas, on the contrary, if religion be assumed as its basis, it constitutes a perfect science, realising the grand object of human life in ascertaining and securinsr the most intense and permanent happiness of which our natures are susceptible. This is the crowning evidence for 264 DETAILS OF MORALITY. the truth of the theory. It fulfils all the condi- tions, and explains all the phenomena. The force of this evidence, which is all that we require, and generally all that is possible in the case even 0/ a physical theory,'^ is still further enforced by the consideration, that there is no other possible assumption under which the spiritual laws of the universe can be reconciled, or the object of nature in the creation of the universe appre- ciated. The theory is therefore philosophically true beyond question. It is indeed impossible to deny, that if morality in itself imply the exist- ence of intense and permanent happiness here and hereafter, then we have in the system now pro- pounded a perfect theory of morality, fulfilling all the conditions and explaining all the pheno- mena of the spiritual world. We believe, further, that it has millions on millions of times been actually realised in practice. Socrates f is an example of one among the heathen who partially understood it, and at all events attempted to give * We know nothing, for example, of the nature of " gravita- tion," and of course have no evidence for such a power, except that the assumption of it "fulfils all the conditions and ex- plains all the phenomena " of the perceptible motions of in- animate existence throughout the universe. This is the only ground of our belief in such a power, but it is irresistible. The same thing holds true in all similar cases. t In the ' Memorabilia ' of Xenophon, we find Socrates re- peatedly appealing to the relationship betwixt God and man as a fundamental principle of morality. DETAILS OF MORALITY. 265 effect to it in his own life. In tlie Christian world there have been countless instances of the same thing, although the very humility which their faith enjoins, induces real Christians frequently to withdraw from public observation, and struggle in quietly performing the duties of life for the purpose of attaining a more entire union with their God. Any human being, however, may try the experiment for himself ; and as surely as God and nature are true, so surely shall he prove successful, if he tries in a right spirit, under the use of God's appointed means. The sorrows of the w^orld will disappear. A peace, such as he never felt before, will be diffused over his mind. Duty and happiness will become the same thing, viewed under different aspects. A growing power over himself in repressing selfishness and cherishing love will give him a sense of a closer and closer union with the divine nature, and this will be in his own consciousness an assurance and a fore- taste of eternal blessedness beyond the grave. If we only believe thoroughly in a Supreme Being, and in our moral relations to Him, the result is certain. The victory is indeed won, and the gates of heaven are thrown open to receive us. The moral law, therefore, according to the theory which we have now generally developed, is merely another name for the spiritual laws of our being, as expressions of the divine attributes. These attributes — of course, we speak only of the 266 DETAILS OF MORALITY. moral attributes — are all really compreliended under the word love ; for God is love, and accord- ingly as He must approve of love wherever it exists, so must He abhor malignity under every form, and by connecting suffering with its mani- festation, thereby do all consistent with leaving us free-will, for the purpose of promoting or eradi- cating it. Thus in conformity with the perfection of His laws, He exacts, in so far, the penalty of malignity, or that excess of selfishness from which it flows, not only under incidental evils, but in the very nature of tJie feeling itself; for malignity being the result of a disorganisation or disease of our spiritual natures, it is no more possible to be malignant without spiritual suffering, than to labour under physical disorganisation or disease without bodily suffering and decay. It implies, indeed, a greater penalty ultimately, in respect of its being a result of free-will. We are accursed in thus far because we have chosen to be so. Yet from experience it would appear, as we have seen, that this sanction, however absolutely tremendous, is insufficient under our present cir- cumstances to vindicate spiritual law, from the fact of its being to a great extent practically ineffective. This is because for the present we have power to deaden our spiritual sufferings by spiritual opiates ; just as we can /or a time deaden physical sufferings by material opiates. In the distractions which we can realise throuR-h the DETAILS OF MORALITY. 267 business of life and the pleasures of tlie world, we also find for the time those spiritual opiates, and we take them. Would we only allow ourselves to think, would we still more allow ourselves steadily to meditate on our present condition till we had thoroughly appreciated our own weakness, as unable for one moment to preserve ourselves from misfortune, sickness, death, and, it may be, eternal misery, it would be impossible that we could continue to live in contempt of God and of His laws. For a man without religion to meditate on futurity as a matter of habit, would be to sub- ject himself to inevitable wretchedness. It would drive him to insanity or to suicide, or else it would necessarily force him to seek peace where alone it is to be found. So long as we delight in the mere gratifications of selfishness, therefore, whenever thoughts of futurity, with the possibility or pro- bability of misfortune, sickness, death, and eternal misery, occur to us, we turn away from them, and by plunging, as has been said, into business and pleasure, we deaden our feelings and our fears for the time. Yet though we may deaden, we can never thoroughly eradicate these feelings and fears. Though the criminal condemned to death may by intoxication or similar excess deaden for a time the horrors inspired by his prospective doom, yet it would seem, as has been said, that even under such circumstances the object cannot be thor- oughly effected. In like manner, though we, who 268 DETAILS OF MORALITY. are just as surely as lie is condemned to death in the body, may by spiritual excess deaden to a certain extent our fears of futurity, yet we cannot altogether eradicate them. The sting lies latent in our hearts, and pains us more or less inces- santly even in the midst of our engagements and enjoyments. In our attempts, however, at dead- ening our feelings and fears, there are other instru- mentalities at work. We are specially aided by doubts as to the reality of divine superintendence, ivhich ive encourage, and reckless hopes of mercy, which to him that cherishes malignity is impos- sible in the nature of things. That there should be such means of deadening our feelings, is the result of our being placed in a state of discipline. Were we not permitted to deceive ourselves, or were we forced by assurance of immediate punishment to act in a particular way, as the Jews were under their temporal sys- tem, there could be no moral discipline, and con- sequently, in creatures such as we are, no possi- bility of forming stable and constituted characters. Those who are never tried may at any time fall. It is the man who has known both good and evil, and who under such knowledge, experimentally acquired, has by an earnest struggle against him- self won the victory in rejecting the evil and realising the good, whose permanent character is alone to be depended on. He alone, having through trust in God subdued selfishness under i DETAILS OF MORALITY. 269 the self-discipine which he has had the means of exercising on earth, can be assured of enjoying the blessedness of love for ever, both in earth and in heaven. Practical morality — or, in other words, the appli- cation of our moral principles to acts — therefore, is to endeavour, with respect to every particular, to do that which will promote the most intense and permanent happiness of ourselves and of all mankind. We say of ourselves and of all man- kind, because it must he the same, if we in- clude the love of God amongst the motives to morality, not only as belonging to them, but as that, according to the argument which we have now proposed, on which the others must rest, and on the validity of which, consequently, they must be entirely dependent for their own validity. PART III. SCIENCE OF POLITICS SCIENCE OF POLITICS. INTRODUCTION. DEFINITION OF POLITICAL SCIENCE— ITS ORIGIN— ITS RELATION TO MORAL SCIENCE— IT CONCERNS CONDUCT RATHER THAN STATES OF MIND — NECESSITY OF GOVERNORS FOR ADMINISTERING POLI- TICAL LAW— NO DIRECT NATURAL LAW ENTITLING ONE MAN TO RULE OVER ANOTHER, EXCEPT THE LAW OF THE STRONGER — NO POLITICAL RIGHTS, THEREFORE, UNDER DIRECT NATURAL LAW — MISCONCEPTIONS ON THE SUBJECT. Political science treats of the manner, circum- stances, and extent in which and to wliich human beings are entitled to combine for determining rights undetermined by nature, and for the mutual defence of person and property under a system of more or less arbitrary laws. That men are so en- titled to combine is self-evident, where they are all agreed as to the terms. Nor can it be doubted, from the very nature of our mental tendencies and worldly relations, that they are entitled to 2/4 SCIENCE OF POLITICS. compel others to submit to the laws which they may frame. When the welfare of all depends upon such an arrangement, as must be the case with communities inhabiting the same district, their interests are so interwoven as to render it impossible that they could exist under any meas- ure of peace and safety, unless all were subjected to the same laws. Hence the necessity of forms of government.* It is the common impression that forms of gov- ernment originated on the model of the natural government of families, where the father gives the law to his children, and otcw out of it. There may be some truth in this, though it seems quite clear that human beings must have combined for protection of person and property apart from all such considerations. That there is a tendency thus to combine for political purposes, is manifest from the conduct of all nations and tribes. It is, however, no direct tendency, but an indirect result necessarily flowing from its obvious necessity. It cannot, therefore, be ascribed to a primary law of nature, except perhaps in so far as a natural ten- dency may impel us to assist those who are oppressed, but merely to a rational conclusion * We have seen that morality has strictly nothing to do with acts, except in so far as they flow from a state of mind and realise it. Acts beyond this are left to be regulated by human laws under subordination to, and in conformity with, the prin- ciples of morality. Hence, as explained in the text, the science of politics. INTRODUCTION. 275 with respect to circumstances which no primary law seems to have provided for. Had men, in- deed, lived purely moral lives, a large amount of political law might have been dispensed with. But even in that case there would still be a number of civil rights to be determined and regulated, for which no natural law has made any provision. These, however, are not to be determined capri- ciously, but according to the principles of moral law, so as to show that some sort of political gov- ernment must have been implied in the constitu- tion of our race. It thus appears that the sciences of morality and politics are not only intimately connected, but are absolutely interwoven with one another. Political science, indeed, in its principles, is to a great extent merely a subordinate branch of the general science of morality, and is under another aspect supplementary thereof. It determines cer- tain rights left undetermined by nature ; and enforces moral duties in the practical conduct of human life by arbitrary punishments and rewards in those cases where, under the exercise of free- will, moral motives are found insufficient for the purpose. It is not, therefore, feelings, but conduct, with which political science has mainly to do. Hence human laws forbid crime, not merely be- cause it is wrong in itself, but mainly because it disturbs and disorganises society. Thus it will be seen that political science has, 2/6 SCIENCE OF POLITICS. or at least ought to have, little to do directly with intentions and feelings. Its great object is to guard person and property. No doubt, so far as it is in the power of a government to direct intentions and feelings into a right channel, they are bound to exercise it, not only because they thus take the most effectual means of regulating conduct, but because no man can throw off his responsibilities with respect to any duty, especially his duty to God, in any position of life, whether as legislator, magistrate, or individual. It is as absm*d to argue that a government is not bound to provide the means of moral, as it would be to argue that it is not bound to provide the means of intellectual, knowledge for its subjects. It is, indeed, more so, since on their moral knowledge must depend their obligation to political obedience. But all appeals to the intentions or feelings of their subjects should be by persuasion only. Acts alone can be regu- lated by human laws, save to a very limited extent, and under very special circumstances. When an ecclesiastical government, indeed, takes cognisance of immoralities, the tendency must be as far as possible to determine the char- acter of motives, because, in an ecclesiastical point of view, it is the motive which constitutes the crime. A religious man is bound to avoid even the appearance or suspicion of evil; and therefore an ecclesiastical court is not only entitled but bound to take into consideration the extent to INTRODUCTION. 27/ which an accused person may have placed himself in circumstances justifying suspicion. If he has done so voluntarily or recklessly, he in thus far has manifested indifference to character, and, con- sequently, must be held guilty of all that the act implies, unless he can by positive evidence relieve himself from the charge. Even in that case his indifference to character is ecclesiastically censur- able. But, in ordinary criminal jurisdiction, the question of motive only constitutes indirectly the subject of consideration, because it is not only very difficult in many instances to determine the motive, but because it is the act, and not the motive, which directly affects the public interests. Hence in criminal cases under political law, though the accused can defend himself by showing that he had no intention of committing wrong, the intention is assumed by the accusing government.* * This is not conformable to the common idea upon the sub- ject. In this country — in the case of murder, for example — malice is libelled, and therefore it is assumed that malice— mean- ing, injudicial language, purpose or intention— must he proved. But on accurate consideration, it will be perceived that the act is held as implying the intention, unless the evidence p-ove the contrary. Evidence proving that there was no intention on the part of the slayer to commit murder is truly exculpator}^ which- ever party may offer it. If one man kills another, and there is nothing in the evidence to prove that it was unintentional or impulsive, the criminal must be held either insane or a mur- derer. The usual maxim that a doubt should be given in favour of the criminal, applies to a doubt of the fact, and not of the motive. In every instance the act, as proved in evidence, im- plies the motive. Were it otherwise, no man could ever be 278 SCIENCE OF POLITICS. Still it is almost impossible to shut the eyes of either judges or juries to the character of motives in criminal cases. In civil causes, however, the assumption of motives, or of the feelings and inten- tions of parties, ought to be altogether excluded from consideration, except in so far as they may be distinctly expressed or clearly implied in their own deeds and utterances. The legal character of an act when it was done, and the legal sense attachable to words when they were spoken or ivritten, ought, without exception, to be taken as expressive of the motive or intention of the parties in every judicial case. It may, indeed, be said that there is great difficulty in determining what might have been the legal sense attachable to deeds or words of an old date ; nor is there, per- haps, any point which has led to a larger amount of litigation than in attempts at determining such matters. Yet the principle is clear and precise. Whatever has been undisputed during years of prescription, ought in every instance to deter- mine the legal sense intended either by acts or writings.* N'o doubt, if there were proof condemned, since even in tlie worst of cases there must ever be a doubt as to the motive ; and in cases of murder there is generally very serious doubt either as to the motive or the sanity of the criminal. * This is equally true of legislative acts as of private deeds. It is utterly iniquitous for a court of law to assign a new sense to any act of which the sense has been determined either posi- tively or negatively by prescription. The mere words of an act may seem often to imply a very different sense from that INTRODUCTION. 2/9 noviter veniens ad notitiam, and which had previously been necessarily unknown, it might invalidate even prescription under ordinary cir- cumstances. But it is otherwise clear as matter of principle that in every instance undisputed prescriptory belief ought to determine legal con- struction with regard to every subject. In such cases, transactions have been bond fide ; and, con- sidering the necessary uncertainty of mere legal deductions, ought, as matter of justice, to be un- challengeable: to this principle, save in the case formerly stated, there are really no exceptions. Prescriptive belief constitutes a legal construction, sanctioned not only by common sense, but by the laws of nature, and, were it duly recognised, would prevent a large proportion of the litigation which disgraces civilised countries, and give a stability to property which it has never hitherto realised. Such being the character and object of political government, it is obvious that in making provi- sion for its due exercise many arrangements must be made, and great expense consequently incurred. originally attached to it, because the views of the legal bearing of words may be wholly different at different times ; but if a sense has been attached to the words of a legislative act by long prescription, not merely by positive decisions, but negatively by no attem2)t liaving been made at attaching a different sense, this ought to be considered the true meaning. It is easy to perceive the immense effect which this would have in checking liti- gation, by assuring every one of the possession of property of every kind which had been held during the years of prescription unchallenged. 28o SCIENCE OF POLITICS. To provide for this, there must be governors with the power of making and executing suitable laws. These governors must, of course, have a certain authority over those whom they govern ; and hence arises the primary and fundamental question in political philosophy — Under what right can one man be entitled to exercise authority over another? This question is in so far settled by the actual constitution of nature. As matter of fact, some men are created superior to others, both with respect to physical strength and mental ability. It is, therefore, impossible that an equality of authority, or, consequently, of temporal advantages, could be preserved among them. These personal differences can only be compensated by a union of men among themselves. The compensation, however, cannot in any case be complete. No arbitrary arrangement can altogether neutralise the primary distinctions of nature. The strongest, physically and mentally, will of necessity exercise the greatest influence in such a union, and thus the foundations of political government are, in the first instance, laid as resting on personal qualifica- tions. To the political government thus consti- tuted all within its sphere in each case must accede, inasmuch as a compact and united body would necessarily crush the opposition of isolated and outstanding individuals. This, therefore, introduces us to a new principle. As time progresses, and the influence of circum- INTRODUCTION. 28 1 stances, and especially of civilisation, begins to be felt, the mode of selecting governors changes by the introduction of the strength of united masses, in place of the direct action of individuals. Still, however, the selection must depend upon the will of the stronger party. In such cases the governor or governors may be very weak in themselves, but the party selecting them sustains their authority^ While, therefore, nature evidently forces on men some form of political government suitable to the respective circumstances of successive stages of human progress, it must still be the government in each case of the stronger individual or party, and in thus far has no other right except the right of the strongest. Under such circumstances it is absurd to speak of political rights apart from mere power. There can be no such rights, because in thus far power is the origin of them all. Moral rights have a natural sanction in feelings of love and sympathy common to our race. But political rights have no such sanction, nor, indeed, have they directly any natural sanction at all, except in the law, if it can be called a law, which enables the stronger to rule over the weaker. It is positively ludicrous to read the misconceptions into which men fall upon this subject. They speak of political rights as if their nature and limits were obvious to the most superficial observer. Whereas it is manifest, from what has been already said, that the founda- 282 SCIENCE OF POLITICS. tion of political rights implies considerations whicli are by no means generally recognised, and that the practical determination of their nature and limits has never been ascertained with even an approach to accuracy. These are the points, therefore, to which our attention must be directed before it is possible to come to any definite conclusion with respect to the details of the science, or the relative advan- tages of particular systems. CHAPTER I. NATURE AND FOUNDATION OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. IMMEDIATE SOURCES OF POLITICAL POWER— IN SO FAR THE WORDS "right," ''ought/' and "duty" can HAVE NO PLACE IN PO- LITICAL SCIENCE— THEORY OF COMPACT, AS THE FOUNDATION OF POLITICAL RIGHTS, UNTENABLE— THEORY OF A TACIT ADMISSION OF SUCH COMPACT UNTENABLE — SUBMISSION TO A GOVERNMENT DOES NOT NECESSARILY IMPLY A RECOGNITION OF ITS AUTHORITY — UTILITY OF GOVERNMENT DOES NOT NECESSARILY IMPLY A RE- COGNITION OF THE RIGHTS OF THOSE THAT ADMINISTER IT IN ANY PARTICULAR CASE — PALEY CORRECT IN RESTING POLITICAL RIGHTS ON "THE WILL OF GOD," BUT WRONG IN ASSUMING "THE WILL OP god" to be COLLECTED FROM "EXPEDIENCY" — "THE WILL OF god" declared IN THE ACTUALLY EXISTING CONSTI- TUTION OF THINGS— THIS THEORY EXPLAINED AND VINDICATED. In so far, then, we have now seen that political power, in the first instance, results from superior- ity of strength. It matters nothing, in the pre- sent stage of our argument, whether this strength consist in physical force or mental ability, or a combination of both modified by circumstances. What the circumstances are which may thus mo- dify physical force and mental ability in the con- stitution of political government, it is, moreover, impossible with any minuteness to describe, be- 284 NATURE AND FOUNDATION cause tliey are innumerable. They comprehend climate, geographical position, intellectual culti- vation, the external action of events, and an in- finity of other particulars. It is, however, self- evident that, taken together in connection with the physical faculties and mental qualifications of men, they explain in every instance the causes of the constitutions of all governments, and of the influence which individuals acquire in the special administration of each. In this very fact, how- ever, it is still farther proved that the compara- tive strength, whether of individuals or parties, however acquired and however preserved, is the foundation both of forms of government, and of individual influence in such governments. Yet it does not follow that those who wield this strength can employ it for any purpose that they please. In saying this, we do not allude to the limits which the obligations of the moral law im- pose upon them, which we shall consider subse- quently, but of those limits which, under the very causes out of which they themselves derive their power, will control the exercise of it. For where it is carried beyond certain limits, they wiU, un- der the constitution of human nature, more or less speedily lose the support of those on whom they had previously depended. A portion of their own friends will desert them, so as to compel them to regulate their proceedings with a greater respect for the opinions and feelings of society, under the OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 285 penalty of being deprived of tlieir authority alto- gether. Within those limits, however, there can be no doubt that those who govern solely by the greater strength, may employ it for any purpose that they please. There is indeed a tendency equivalent to what may be called an indirect law, under which certain portions of each society combine their strength for the purpose of supporting each gov- ernment, and there are tendencies in the same manner equivalent to indirect law, which give to certain persons controlling influence in such gov- ernments. This, however, manifestly constitutes as much the law of the strongest, as if a man with his knee on the breast and his hand on the throat of a weaker fellow- creature, were to threat- en him with mutilation or death unless he should agree to obey his commands. It is true that the influence of strength does not appear so manifest, when shrouded under the numerous complications of civil government; but its operation is just as evident to any one capable of estimating the char- acter of the authority by which a claim to the obedience of subjects is tacitly implied, under the greater proportion of systems which treat of poli- tical science. Li thus far, therefore, again, it is clear that such words as "right," "ought," or "duty" can have no place in political science. Neither the govern- ment nor the governors, indeed, can have any right. 286 NATURE AND FOUNDATION except the riglit of force, nor can the subject be bound to any obedience, save under the law of fear. In other words, there is no real obligation upon any one to obey human laws, except in so far as the rulers can compel obedience by phy- sical strength. There would consequently be no willing obedience under a sense of duty, and every one would be entitled to evade obedience by all the indirect means in his power. Were such the true state of the case, human laws would have comparatively little effect in attaining the object for which they are usually understood to be designed, hecaicse sedition and trcaso7i woidd not be crimes. Attempts to undermine and over- turn existing governments would simply imply a fair and legitimate struggle against an arbitrary and unauthorised exercise of physical force. The only shadow of political government, as resting on the constitution of the human mind, is to be found in the relationship connecting pa- rents and children. Whether there be even in the minds of children, however, a natural sense of the duty of obedience to their parents, or whether the obedience of children to parents may not be the result of circumstances, a habitual sense of practical authority, and therefore merely an in- direct law of nature, is a question which it is very difficult positively to decide. Even assuming, however, that children have a natural sense of parental authority, or generally of that of their OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 28/ guardians, as tliose on whom they depend under the arrangement of nature, tliis could not imply any claim on the part of others to exercise autho- rity over persons who owe them no particular obligation by nature, and with whom they are entirely unconnected, save as creatures of the same race.* In such a case it is evident that the claims of both parties are precisely the same. We have just as good a claim, so far as natural right is con- cerned, to exercise authority over others, as they have to exercise authority over us. If there is to be authority, therefore, exercised by the one over the other, we must just fall back again on the law of superior strength. The stronger individual or party has the right, just because he or it has the power, of ruling over the weaker. * It is said, and would of course be said in this country by those unaccustomed to reasoning, that in free countries men are governed by their representatives. But if this mean any- thing, it must mean that all persons are treated unjustly who have no representatives. All the nations of the world, there- fore, have been and are unjustly governed, except perhaps America and Britain with her dependencies. But even in America and Britain many are unrepresented. There is there- fore no real right in the government of any nation. This, how- ever, is not all, for it must be observed that men may object even to a representative system, and desire to govern themselves. They may he forced to submit to a representative government, but there is no natural obligation on men to submit to a par- liament, or a house of assembly, or a congress, more than to a despot. We come back to the law of the stronger again. There can be no answer to this under the assumption of poli- tical power being a natural right. 288 NATURE AND FOUNDATION 111 order to escape from this difficulty, it has been assumed by some that there is a sort of compact among men, according to which they have agreed to concede obedience to the respective govern- ments under which they dwell. The assumption has originated in despair. Where no other ap- proach to a legitimate claim could be discovered on the part of governments to the obedience of their subjects, this theory of a mutual compact was proposed. But assuredly there could not be an assumption more utterly unfounded. There are multitudes, indeed, who are so far from agreeing to any such compact, that they detest the forms of government under which they respectively live. It is in vain to say in reply to this, that the majority favour such an arrangement ; for under what law can it be pretended that a majority acquires the right of ruling over an unwilling minority, or even an unwilling individual, except the law of the strongest ? We are occasionally told, indeed, that in yield- ing to a government, and taking advantage of the protection which it affords, we tacitly confirm a compact, or at all events indirectly sanction a claim to obedience. We deny, however, that there ever was a compact at all ; and it is impossible to confirm that which never existed. Trace the history of every government, and we shall find that in each case governments have gi'own out of circumstances, and never in any one instance OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 289 rested on a compact -aniversally agreed to. Such has been the case, even with respect to the most popular forms of government. There never has been anything like a universal consent given to them ; and even if there had, such a consent could not have bound all future generations. The fact is, that we come into the world generally to find a form of government established for us, with the primary constitution of which we have no more connection than if we had been born at the opposite side of the earth. It is evidently absurd, therefore, to say that we have given our consent to such a form of government, or that under any direct law of our mental constitution we are bound to yield obedience to those who administer it. Nor is it more to the purpose to say, that by taking advantage of its provisions we there- by give our sanction to the government which we find in existence. We do not take advan- tage of its provisions, except under the pressure of physical necessity ; or again, in other words, under the law of the stronger. We should be crushed if we attempted to resist. Nor does it further in principle involve any other law to argue that if we dislike the government of the country in which our lot has been cast, we may leave it, and seek some other form of govern- ment elsewhere more as^reeable to us. It is not, indeed, always the case that we can leave our country and seek another. But if it w^ere, where 290 NATURE AND FOUNDATION is to be found the law of nature that entitles one man or body of men to say to any of their fellow- creatures that he must leave the country where he was born, unless he choose to obey him or them, except the law of the stronger ? There is no such natural law existing in any direct form, nor any approximation to it. The more powerful may, indeed, compel the weaker to obedience, but there is no shadow of direct natural law to justify it. Did the matter, therefore, depend on direct natural law, it is certain that every one would be entitled to resist, by whatever means were in his power, all arbitrary laws, and arbitrary adminis- tration of such laws, and consequently all politi- cal government. It is true that political government is useful, and, indeed, from the universality of its existence in some form, we may conclude that it is felt to be essential to the welfare of mankind. It is assumed, therefore, by some philosophers, to be an insti- tution claiming authority from natural law, not indeed directly, but indirectly, as discoverable by inference. A law, however, which does not flow from a principle sanctioning itself, but is enacted from a consideration of probable results, is not a natural, hut an artificial law ; and the theory can only mean, therefore, that there must be some cause or causes in the nature of things to account for the admitted phenomenon. This, of course, is true, but it is a barren conclusion, as it explains OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 291 nothing. It leaves ns just as we were. No doubt, as matter of expediency, reason would recommend the institution of political govern- ment, but there would be no obligation binding those to obey it who might deem it inexpedient for themselves. A political government resting exclusively on expediency, moreover, could of course have no claim of right whatever. It be- comes once more simply a government of physical force exercised by a tyrant majority for securing that which they believe most expedient for them- selves. But granting, what evidently is not the case, that there were something like a direct natural law in favour of political government, where, we again ask, is to be found any foundation for the rights of those who administer it ? Whence are they specially entitled to assume a superiority over their fellow -creatures, under which they make laws for their direction, and enforce those laws by arbitrary penalties ? The thing will not admit of an argument. There is no direct natural law, thus giving one man authority over another, except the law of superior strength, which of course excludes every idea of right, except the right of every one to exercise the power which from circumstances he actually possesses. According to Paley, " the only ground of a sub- ject's obligation is the will of God." We shall subsequently show that in so far he is perfectly 292 NATURE AND FOUNDATION light. But in adding " the will of God, as col- lected from expediency," without any further limit- ation, he not only leaves it to be implied that po- litical obligation may be predicated of everything which involves expediency, but he proposes a mode for discovering ''the will of God," which, apart from other considerations, is liable to the most serious objections.* There cannot, indeed, be a greater error than to suppose, as Paley evidently does, that a govern- ment is entitled to interfere with everything wdiich it may imagine calculated to promote the public welfare. It is a common error, and there- fore the more dangerous. The power of political government is, strictly speaking, only repressive. So soon as a government is established, its duty is to guard person and property ; and except for the sake of this, it has nothing to do with anything else. In laying on taxes, in raising armies, in providing means for the intellectual and moral education of the people, the grand aim of a gov- ernment should ever be their bearing on the main point of protecting person and property. Nothing * The theory of Paley in this aspect is not absolutely false, but only very imperfect. It is, indeed, so imperfect, that taken by itself it would lead to the most pernicious practical results. As will be subsequently seen from the text, it is not expediency, but the actual existing condition of things, which teaches us the " will of God" with respect to the constitution of governments. There must be something more than expedi- ency to guide even our political conduct. OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 293 can be more mischievous than the meddling spirit which induces governments to attempt forcing masses of arbitrary laws on their subjects, having merely what may be called the general welfare of society in view. Let men be sure of the safety of person and property, and they will find the means of assuring their own interests and happiness in a way greatly more effectual than any government can provide it for them. But the fact is, that no government can arbitrarily interfere to any con- siderable extent with the opinions, habits, and pursuits of its subjects, without interfering with personal rights, which, as we shall subsequently see, belong to a higher class, and are sanctioned by stronger obligations. But further, as we have said, the assumption that " the will of God " is to be " collected solely from expediency," is a theory liable to the most serious objections. On the face of it we are struck by the language of a theory which pro- poses to resist powers and subvert governments, because they are inexpedient The notions which men entertain as to expediency are so various, that were every one entitled to conspire and ex- cite sedition whenever he believed that a change of government might be expedient, there would be no settled peace in any country. This appa- rent absurdity seems, however, to be modified by a subsequent limitation when it is said, " So long as the established government cannot be resisted 294 NATURE AND FOUNDATION or changed without public inconveniency, it is the will of God that the established government be obeyed, and no longer." This, however, would lead to the opposite conclusion ; for were we never to " resist or change " a government when it caused "public inconveniency," it is manifest that we should never resist nor change a government at all. There is, indeed, a want of precision in the theory which renders it practically useless. It nowhere clearly appears what Paley means by the "interests of society," which he considers the alone proper object of political government. Spe- cially, he nowhere determines whether society means all human beings, or the majority of each state. Under the former of these assumptions, political government would become practically unworkable, since its complications would be so enormous as to render it impossible for any human intelligence to resolve them, while the possible collisions of interests betwixt different states would subject each government to a perpetual succession of insuperable difficulties. Under the latter assumption, which there can be little doubt is that which he means, not only might the inte- rests of the majority of one state interfere with the rights of other states, but it would follow that individuals, and not only individuals, but colonies and provinces— as, for example, in this country, Ireland or Scotland — might be outraged, and yet would not be justified in seeking redress, because OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 295 the interests and convenience of a larger number in otlier provinces might be injuriously affected. The case actually occurred on a recent occasion in America, where the interests of the South being compromised by a tariff convenient for the North, a civil war was the consequence. Under such circumstances it has always appeared clear to us, that where a tariff is fixed, not for the purpose of providing necessary supplies for the use of the state, but for the purpose of promoting the private interests of parties, the right of separation is in- disputable. In fact, this theory of Paley's, whatever sense we attach to the w^ord expediency, really assumes the whole question. How do we know that the " public interests " of an arbitrary district called a State indicates " the will of God " ? May it not rather be, if experience is the only guiding prin- ciple, that the " interests," or supposed interests, of each body of men connected with one another by mutual pursuits, as in the case of trades- unions, indicates " the will of God," in so far as they themselves are concerned ? To us it appears that, under one aspect, the argument is stronger in the latter case than in the former, since in the latter case there is a natural and voluntary, while in the former there is only an arbitrary and com- pulsory, bond of combination. Under this assump- tion, the public interests of states would be sub- servient and subordinate in the nature of things 296 NATURE AND FOUNDATION to the public interests of trades and professions, or other natural combinations, No doubt trades and professions may fall into mistakes as to their own interests ; but so may governments ; and if it be left, as Paley leaves it, to every man to judge for himself, there can evidently be no more blame attachable to the one than to the other. There is, however, a still more important ele- ment substantively omitted by this theory; we mean, that of men's own individual interests. Is it clear that we ought to yield them for the sake of promoting the public interests? Paley says that we ought, because it is expedient even for ourselves. This, however, is by no means, in all instances, the opinion of mankind. They are of opinion that our direct ''interests" indicate the " will of God " more than the " public interests," which can only indirectly benefit us ; and in so far they are undoubtedly right. The position, how- ever, which this principle occupies in Paley's theory nowhere distinctly appears ; and yet, prac- tically, it is of the most material consequence. Unless we precisely ascertain its authority, the theory, apart from all other objections, must be entirely indefinite.* * Paley has fallen into this error by assuming that each in- dividual is to judge for himself. This would not only super- sede political right altogether, hut leaves the great question undetermined as to the parties whose advantage is to be ascer- tained. Why should that which is expedient for a majority in a particular district indicate the will of God ? Where, more- OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 297 We have dwelt on this theory at some length, because it is beyond doubt the best form under which the utilitarian theory has been applied to politics, and because Paley has defended it with masterly ability. Yet, though there is much more to be said in favour of such utilitarianism as a political than as a moral theory, we trust that it has now been proved, even as a political theory, to be untenable, though regarded under the most favour- able aspect. It assumes that which is to be proved, and evades the difficulties which such assumption implies. We need not now dwell, therefore, on the ordinary form of the utilitarian theory. The assumption that the object of poli- tical government is " the greater happiness of the greater number," not as probative of the " will of God," but absolutely, will not admit of a defence.* over, is the exijediency of one set of men ruling rather than another ? The theory is evidently without any definite basis on which to rest, while the different propositions by which he supports or explains it are mere assertions, which he does not sustain by an appeal to principles of any kind. * To promote the "greatest happiness of the greatest num- ber " is in itself no motive at all, and can imply in itself no obligation. To take it even as a test of political obligation, might imply the subjection of the minority to intolerable tyranny. It is in vain to argue that this would not promote the " greatest happiness " even of the majority. In a mere worldly point of view, and for a certain length of time, we are convinced that it frequently would promote the "greatest worldly happiness " of the majority. Such has, moreover, been the conviction of every nation of the world, and almost at every stage of their history. Where the theory of the "greatest happiness of the greatest number," therefore, is avowed, it is under the assumption that 298 NATURE AND FOUNDATION It is not only liable to all the objections with which Paley's theory is chargeable, but to a multitude of others, and is a theory, indeed, which no government would dare avowedly to realise. It depends for any plausibility which may be claimed for it on being mixed up with a cognate theory of morals, which again has been made to rest on the inconsistent theory of selfishness ; and thus the whole has been so complicated as to pre- vent its incongruities from being immediately manifest. In this way it has in so far served the purpose of a certain school, and been patronised by it. But while Paley's theory, in so far as it rests our knowledge of the " will of God " on expedi- ency, is wrong, or at least imperfect, he is unques- tionably right in regarding " the will of God "as the sole possible ground of political obligation. Under any assumption of a compact, or indeed under any direct form of natural law, as we have seen, political government can have no claim of right whatever, since natural law gives no autho- rity to one man, or body of men, to rule over others, except the law of the strongest. Suppos- ing that it could be proved that the people of each kingdom are bound to enact laws among them- selves, there is no natural law under which the parties entitled to make or to administer such all the rights of the minority are reserved, which makes the theory itself little better than a play upon words. OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 299 law can be determined. Tt is only when we go under and behind natural law that we discover the true key to the mystery. It is only when we consider all things as constituted and regulated by the Supreme Being that we discover the source of political obligation. Moral obligation is indeed founded on direct natural law, but this cannot be the case with respect to political administrations. Under any form of theory referring the rights of political government to the obligations of direct natural law, we are invariably involved in contra- diction and confusion.* If, however, we look upon the system of the universe as the design of one overruling Intel- ligence, who has constituted every event as it actually exists, and has given to every individual the position which he actually occupies, then the mass of contradiction and confusion which in- volves all the theories to which we have previously referred immediately vanishes. The arrangements of the universe assume the character of a magni- ficent scheme. God is the grand Legislator and Governor of the whole, and ru.lers are merely His vicegerents. From that moment the law of the strongest, which had only rested on physical force, becomes the law of intelligence and right, because it is subjected to the principles of morality and order. All things are seen to have been wrought out for a particular purpose, and the union of men * Appendix C. 300 NATURE AND FOUNDATION for the general welfare is sanctioned by the very fact of its rational necessity, as carrying forth the decree of an almighty Lawgiver. Everything that exists, and as it exists, according to this theory, is His doing, in so far as it is consistent with the moral law ; and, consequently, every individual is in the position which he occupies by His appoint- ment, in so far as it has been legitimately attained. Whatever influence, therefore, or power it involves, has been conferred by Him, is exercised under His authority, and is to he limited and controlled hy the terms of His moral commandments.^ This is farther illustrated when we observe, what is manifest even on the most superficial consider- ation, that the law of the strongest necessarily accommodates itself to the intellectual and moral condition of each people. In the lowest intellec- tual and moral condition of mankind, personal strength and courage invariably exercise the chief influence, more or less modified by the intellectual character of the individuals. Laws in all such cases are necessarily lax, and irregularly admin- istered, so as to be suitable to the comparatively * It by no means follows from this that men are not entitled to advance their worldly interests, or to seek for a higher posi- tion. On the contrary, they are impelled to do this by the laws of their natures, which are the laws of God. But they are bound to do it in subordination to the social circumstances and politi- cal government of the country in which they live, because these are determined by the decree of God, just as much as their natures are constituted by His appointment. OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 30I low moral tone of society. But as intelligence increases, and the importance of nnion for the common welfare of society begins to be appreci- ated, a nascent desire for freedom from the tyranny of pure physical force appears. Mental ability commands greater respect. Kindness of heart and zeal for the general happiness acquire a pre- dominating influence. It is no longer, in a word, the physical strength of individuals which consti- tutes, even in a measure, the ruling power, but the intellectual and moral strength of the masses, subjecting themselves by a more or less uncon- scious process to the government of the wisest and best, with a view to the higher interests of each and of all. Thus, a desire for and a realisation of liberty progresses according to the forms most suitable for each people; and thus, accordingly, by taking the circumstances of each people into consideration, we can discover more or less accu- rately the causes of the form which each govern- ment has gradually assumed. It is, therefore, still truly the law of the strong- est — using the word in the most general sense — Avhich regulates the constitution and administra- tion of governments ; but in so far as the prin- ciples of government are understood and applied, it is that law as enacted and overruled ly the stro7igest of all ; and while the strongest, also the best and the wisest. It originates, in other words, with the Supreme Being, who, in determining tlie 302 NATURE AND FOUNDATION position which each of His creatures is to occupy, determines in that very fact the influence, direct and indirect, which each is entitled to exercise. Whoever goes beyond this assumes a power which he has not received, violates a divine law, and therefore in thus far may with justice be resisted. It is in this assurance, which is felt by all men, and known to all men more or less precisely, that we have the only source of political right, and the only measure of political obedience.* The theory, therefore, which afiirmed kings to hold their sovereignties jure divino, though now almost universally repudiated, was, in a certain sense, not only correct, but is the only theory on the subject capable of logical defence. The error lay in not pushing the theory to its legitimate results. For not only kings, but all other magis- trates, and indeed every human being, occupies the position which each respectively holds on the direct authority of God, and is not only entitled, consequently, but bound to exercise all the duties and privileges that legitimately appertain to it. Nor, under the same argument, is any one entitled to deprive another of the position which he legally holds, nor to interfere with him in the perform- ance of its legitimate duties. * This argument, it is hardly necessary to say, implies that neither any power, nor the exercise of any power, can he of God, when either attained or exercised in opposition to the moral law of God. This subject, however, will be more parti- cularly adverted to afterwards. OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 303 It does not, however, follow from this, that every one is perfectly suited for his particular position, not merely because the Supreme Being- has purposes in the administration of His provi- dence, which we cannot know, but because the selection of office-bearers is usually left by Him to be determined under the influence of free-will. The blame, therefore, of improper appointments rests with human beings themselves, since God could not interfere with His creatures in the exercise of free - will, without subverting the system of discipline on account of which they have been placed in this world. But for evils of this character there is a remedy provided.* When men fail to perform the duties of their stations, they may justly be deprived of them under the authority of God ; and they will be deprived of them, should their failure reach such a point as to offend thoroughly the judgment of that ruling power on earth, which must ultimately rest 171 the decided majority of the strength of every people. In this we speak not of culpability, but of incapacity ; of culpability we shall speak afterwards, merely remarking at present that there are limits beyond which the magistrate in any country, however despotic, dare not go, and that * It is in this case almost exclusively that Paley's theory of expediency determining "the will of God " is admissible, and it is an expediency which must be ascertained either by the deci- sion of a superior, or by the overwhelming voice of society. 304 NATURE AND FOUNDATION tliose limits become narrower just as despotic interference might more injuriously tell on the higher principles of the people, and consequently on their moral discipline. From all this it is clear, that while strictly moral rights may be rested on natural law, as dis- coverable in the primary feelings of the human mind, political rights must refer their origin solely to that anterior cause on which moral rights are also, no doubt, dependent, and consequently are to be ascertained inferentially. Their authority rests exclusively on the will of God, as discover- able from the actually existiyig constitution of things, which so exist under His decree, and according to His good pleasure, in so far as it is realised in subordination to His moral law. In thus far, therefore^ no one is entitled to resist them* * Hence it is arranged by nature, that sudden changes on forms of government for a long time render all government in the countries where they occur mutable and precarious. A long-established government is felt by habit to be jtire clivino. Men come to regard it, therefore, as a sort of immutable. They never perceive gradual changes, but sudden and violent changes unsettle their belief. Every man, under such circumstances, evolves for himself a new theory, imagining that some sort of perfect system should be established, now that change has begun. We have thus governments framed by men, instead of being worked out under the spiritual laws of nature and of God. Hence innumerable factions. There is nothing fixed in men's minds. The result is necessarily a falling back on first principles, without any regard to existing circumstances. Hence again anarchy, and ultimately a military domination. OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 305 Such is the nature of political rights, and such the authority on which they exclusively rest. We hardly think, indeed, that any one will ven- ture expressly to maintain that there is any other foundation on which we can logically rest them. We are convinced, indeed, that the thing is impos- sible. Away from religion, apart from the provi- dence of a God by whom all primary laws are enacted, all events arranged, and the validity of all natural feelings and desires guaranteed, there can be neither moral nor political right in any proper sense, nor, consequently, any moral or political obligation. Moral and political rights and duties must rest on the sanction of an almighty and omniscient Lawgiver, or else moral rights and duties can only have a very imperfect foundation, and political rights and duties can have no sort of foundation at all. Political right, if we are to use such a term, can only, in such a case, rest on the law of physical strength, and political duty on the law of physical compulsion. We press this argument, because it is full time that men should know what they are doing, and on what principles they can alone put their trust. There can be no question that loose, materialistic, and selfish theories are spreading widely over the This being inconsistent with the aspirations of civilised society, there arise further commotions. What form snch a state of things might ultimately assume, our experience hardly enables us to determine. U 306 NATURE AND FOUNDATION world, sustained in most cases, we firmly believe, by an ntter ignorance of what are the practical consequences which must follow from them. For as such theories strengthen themselves by habit, moral duty must gradually become of no force, except in so far as enforced by human law, and human law of no obligation, except in so far as enforced by physical power. Were such a state of things realised, the world would become one mass of anarchy and misery ; and the nearer we approach to such a state of things, the more will anarchy be strengthened and misery intensified. The special danger lies in people having their eyes opened, during such practical times as those in which we live, to the absurdity of " the beauty of virtue," and "the greatest happiness of the majority," and suchlike principles. Multitudes have no doubt hitherto been influenced by some reverence for the mysterious meanings which they have been taught to attach to these phrases. But it cannot last. Even the humblest and poorest orders are beginning to think much more than they did, and they will inevitably discover that to the man who has no belief in an overruling Providence, "virtue" has no beauty, or, at all events, is frequently not half so agreeable as vice ; while " the greatest happiness of the great- est number " principle is a mere grandiloquent phraseology, intended for inducing the poor to rest satisfied on the whole with the existing OF rOLITICAL RIGHTS. 307 state of tilings. Indeed, much, as the recommen- dation of the "greatest happiness of the majority" principle is really for the advantage of the rich, too many of them only adhere to it in practice so far as it suits themselves. Such hyphotheses, indeed, have never been very available. It is because they have been supple- mented by a more or less unconscious sense of the perpetual presence and overruling providence of God, that they have aided in preserving the peace of society. Eradicate this supplementary belief, and all such hypotheses in themselves would be laughed to scorn. There are few in the present day so ignorant as not in some measure to appre- ciate their utter inadequacy as foundations of poli- tical rights. AVe do not indeed think that such a belief in an overruling Providence can be altogether eradicated, because the conviction of an overrul- ing Providence, we have seen, necessarily results from the constitution of the human mind. It may, however, be greatly weakened, and in the process of restoring its legitimate power through suffering, which appears almost the only means of restoring it, there can be little doubt that the most disastrous consequences must be incurred. Apart from personal and domestic and social considerations, such a process, widely extended, must necessarily involve fearful convulsions of nations. This danger is enhanced, of course, by every 308 NATURE OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. advancing step in the progress of civilisation, for every such step accustoms men more and more accurately to think, and consequently shows more and more clearly the utter futility of all the grounds, apart from religion, on which political rights and obligations have been rested. It is on this account that we deem it of such incalculable importance to lay the true foundation of their authority under a train of reasoning which is demonstratively logical, and at the same time so plain that it can neither be met by argument nor evaded by sophistry. CHAPTER II. LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. LIMITS OP POLITICAL EIGHTS — THEY ARE LIMITED BY THE MORAL EIGHTS OF OTHERS, AS OF SUPERIOR AUTHORITY— CLASSIFICA- TION OF MORAL RIGHTS AS RELATING TO GOVERNED AND GOVER- NORS : 1. RIGHT OF PERSONAL LIBERTY — 2. RIGHTS OF LABOUR AND PROPERTY — 3. RIGHT OF POLITICAL POWER, We have now determined the nature of political rights, and the foundation on which they rest. The very same argument enables us to determine their limitations. For it is evident, that as politi- cal rights, having been bestowed by God, must be valid as against any inferior or merely human right, so must they in turn be subordinated to those moral rights which, as flowing from the direct spiritual laws of God, necessarily imply a superior obligation. In order, therefore, thor- oughly to understand the limits of political rights, we must appreciate the moral rights which relate governed and governors to one another. These are comprehended under three classes: 1. The 310 LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. right of personal liberty ; 2. The rights of labour and property ; 3. The right of political power. 1. The right of personal liberty. It is evident from what has been said that every one is entitled to resist such an interference with his personal liberty as would put it in the power of another to control his moral conduct, or that of those whom the Supreme Being has placed in immedi- ate dependence upon Him. This consideration at once condemns slavery, and indeed every form of government giving to one such an arbitrary control over the conduct of another as to imply slavery. This, however, of course, involves the assump- tion that the parties enslaved are more or less cognisant of the moral evils resulting from slavery. Unless this were the case, though the enslaving another might be an immoral act on the part of him who was guilty of it, yet the argument would not in so far imply a right of resistance on the part of him who had been enslaved. A man cannot be entitled to act under a principle which he does not know. When, however, a man feels that slavery inter- feres or may interfere with the duties which he owes to his God — and more or less we are inclined to think that all nmst feel this — he is not only entitled, but bound to resist. For if the law of morality be of paramount obligation, as we have proved to be the case, it demonstratively follows .LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 3 II that no one can be entitled to exercise sucli a dominant control over the conduct of another as to interfere with its obligations. We do not say that morality and slavery cannot possibly co- exist in certain cases, because the master may only require what is consistent with morality, and the slave may refuse under any penalty to do that which is inconsistent with his moral convictions. But it is obvious that morality, con- sidered as the realisation of religion, is theoreti- cally inconsistent with slavery, as rendering — so far as human means can effect it — the moral and religious conduct of one man dependent on the caprice, or at all events the will, of another. Every one, therefore, has a right to personal liberty by a law of God anterior to any political obli- gation, so long as he does not interfere with the property or privileges of others, and is conse- quently entitled to resist even by force any in- dividual or government which may attempt to deprive him of it. No doubt a man can be compelled to submit to slavery. This, however, has nothing to do with the question of right. It is simply a matter of prudence, or rather of necessity. For no man is justified in continuing a slave one moment after he has reasonable ground for hoping that he can relieve himself from a thraldom under which not only he himself but his children may be com- pelled to violate the moral law of God, either by 312 LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. direct force, or through being trained to mental and moral deofradation. Hence it follows that every privilege which is essential to the acquisition and maintenance of moral principle, and the performance of moral duty, is an inalienable right, superior to all other rights. We are entitled, therefore, and even bound to defend such privileges by force when we clearly see that they are endangered, and to resist every form of political government that may attempt to take them away. 2. Eights of labour and property. Besides personal liberty, which is of the strictest form of right, every man is entitled to the undisturbed possession of his own property and the fruits of his own labour. In other words, the fruits of every man's labour are his own, and every man is entitled to exercise without molesta- tion all the rights implied in the possession of property. This is essential to his full perform- ance of moral duty, for to deprive a man of the use of his property is in so far to reduce him to slavery, by controlling the means which the natural laws of God have given him for the pur- pose of attaining to a higher moral position, and of realising those moral relationships in which, by the laws of God, he stands to his fellow-creatures. No doubt a man's property is subject to such claims for taxation as may be essential for the public good, because the very necessity of the LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 313 case proves that by the decree of God this is a burden with which all property is chargeable. At the same time, taxes ought to be fairly levied in proportion to the respective capabilities of indi- viduals, so far as these can be discovered, and always for the main object of guarding person and property, or, in other words, the essential rights of the subject. Hence, of course, all taxes for the private advantage of individuals or classes are unwarrantable, unless it can be demonstra- tively proved that this is only an incidental conse- quence, and that they are actually in their direct effects benefiting the community at large. Yet it by no means follows in this, as in the former case, that we are entitled to resist by force every act, or even every series of acts, which may seem to imply a deviation from principle. Not only is it sometimes very difficult to apportion taxes with perfect fairness, but it is never to be forgotten that a determination of the rights of labour and of property has been left by the laws of the Supreme Being very much to human arrangement. Hence, although human law can- not be entitled to compel one man to work for the benefit of another, nor to take away pro- perty which it has once absolutely given, yet the extent to which labour may be taxed, and the mode in which property is to be distributed, as well as the terms under which it is to be held, ^ must from the nature of the case be very much 314 LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. left to arbitrary decision. It is no sufficient ground of resistance, consequently, that the laws of any country may be unwise, except in so far as such resistance may be legitimately provided for by the laws themselves, because the expediency of the laws is, under the authority of God, to be determined by the governors, and not by the governed. Nor are we entitled forcibly to resist human laws because we happen to be placed in an unfavourable social position imder the operation of circumstances. Such circum- stances have been worked forth under the action of Providence, and we are consequently placed in the position which we occupy under the direct sanction of the Supreme Being. It is the very purpose of God that men should perform their duties in the respective positions which they occupy, and submit to the inconveniences in- volved in them. If suffering and privation be requisite, therefore, it is a proof in itself that such are the means by which it is the will of the Supreme Being that those subjected to them should be disciplined, and thus prepared for that happiness which it was intended that the events of life should enable us to realise. There can be no doubt, however, on the very same grounds, that resistance even by force is allowable where the rights of labour and pro- perty are purposely trampled upon in such a manner as to render one class of men entirely LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 315 dependent upon another. In such a case the moral law is violated, and men are necessarily re- duced to a condition of substantive slavery. The time for this, however, will almost invariably be indicated by the condition of society. A. case, indeed, can hardly be conceived in which pub- lic opinion will not be made to tell on the proceedings of any government, ere recourse to violence become an absolute necessity. Strange as it may appear, however, there actually have been instances of governments persisting in such oppression of classes as almost to compel re- sistance ; and experience proves, that when the torrent bursts its bounds there is hardly any possibility for a time of regulating or checking its impetuosity. The passions become so inflamed as to urge sufferers to extravagance. This is specially the case where a nation, having at some particular time made rapid advances in civilisa- tion, suddenly discovers not merely that the rights of labour and property have been violated, but that a real slavery had been introduced among them, throuoh the crushins^ of their intellectual powers and the degradation of their moral na- tures. Matters become infinitely worse if the people believe religion to have been made an instrument for working out such results. We have the phenomenon exemplified in the condi- tion of the French at the time of their great Eevolution ; and we can neither blame them for 3l6 LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. having had recourse to force, nor even wonder, perhaps, at the degree of their extravagance. 3. Eight of political power. Every human be- ing, under every form of government, enjoys a certain measure of political power, in so far as his strength of body and faculties of mind give him a certain indirect influence. This influence, of course, increases proportionally with the progress of civilisation. Hence there is a class of political rights, apart altogether from official position, that flows from the relative qualifications of individ- uals. In this way a man without any ofiicial position may have indirectly a great weight in political government. From this it follows, and we know it to be true as matter of fact, that be the governors what they may, every system of political government must be suitable to the wants, the opinions, and generally the circum- stances of the governed. This is the enactment of the Supreme Being, and will work itself out, there- fore, in the very nature of things, under a process which we have described already. If it is not efi'ected gradually under regulated changes, the result must ultimately be sought through con- vulsion and violence. From this we have a mani- fest instruction of Providence, that governors are bound to see to it themselves.* They are bound * It is sometimes argued in recent times, that men ought to receive political power in order to dignify them in their own eyes, and thereby raise them in the scale of society. It is an LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 317 to watch the progress of society, and to introduce changes on the system of government, so as to accommodate it to the progressive changes in the condition of those whom they govern. No donbt it is impossible to make any system perfect, but the state of society, again, will in every instance indicate clearly enough how far changes are prac- tically necessary, so as to prevent violent national convulsions. In some instances, indeed, there may be too great a tendency to make changes under the influence of mere democratic impulse, mistaken for the general convictions of society, but this is only a ground for teaching us to exer- cise caution and discrimination, and by no means an argument against all change. On the contrary, the real opinions and feelings of intelligent men, uninfluenced by personal ambition, indicate the will of God, because it is the voice of reason ; and those governors who neglect the clear manifestations of these, subject their country and themselves to those penalties which necessarily follow contempt of nature's laws. It is in this way that, as men argument so very silly, that perhaps it hardly requires a reply. We may just remark, that if it apply to those who have the suitable qualifications, there is little difference of opinion as to the desirableness of giving such parties political power, if it can be accomplished. But if the claim be meant to apply to those who are unqualified, apart from its manifest other absurdities, it would imply that for the sake of an incidental object, the end and aim of political government itself should he sacrificed. 3l8 LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. generally become more intelligent, the founda- tions of government require to be enlarged, not because every intelligent individual has a right to enjoy official power, but because its widest safe expansion gives the best assurance of impartiality in its exercise.* From these considerations it will appear that the use of force, for the mere purpose of acquir- ing political power under a direct or official form, is inadmissible under almost any circumstances. No man, we have seen, has a natm^al right to it, and consequently we can only be justified in using force to procure it wdiere a government persists in maintaining and exercising pri^dleges which are equivalent to the reduction of a portion of its subjects to such slavery as may interfere with the ^performance of moral duty. Under any other circumstances, the strength which could alone gain the object by violence will ultimately and probably more quickly accomplish it by moral influence. Even when a government persists in * Governments, under ordinary circumstances, change gradu- ally so as to meet progressive changes in the state of society. Sudden and violent convulsions usually result either from know- ledge outgrowing political progress, or from wealth accumulat- ing in tlie hands of a small number, so that the masses are oppressed. The immediate causes of such changes, however, are innumerable, and their forms very various. Such changes in monarchical and aristocratic governments are, strangely enough, for the most part led by aristocrats under the influence of vanity or ambition. In democratic governments they are for the most part directed by a dominant military chief. LIMITS OF POLITICAL RIGHTS. 319 maintaining privileges whicli may be abused, and indicates, as it may seem, an inclination so to abuse them, tlie utmost caution should still be exercised in having recourse to force, considering the strong tendency which men have to seek for power merely for the sake of power, and the risk thence arising of self-deception. We must ever bear in mind that no ground of mere expediency can warrant forcible resistance of an established government, because every established govern- ment has its authority from God. !N'othing, in fact, can warrant it, but a conviction of its inter- fering with privileges of its subjects essential to the 'performance of their moral duties. Violent resistance to an established government, on the ground of supposed political rights being with- held, is inconsistent with the law of nature, and consequently with the will of God. CHAPTER III. SUMMARY OF THE PRINCIPLES ESTABLISHED IN THE PRECEDING CHAPTERS, AND DEVELOPMENT OF PO- LITICAL SCIENCE AS FLOWING THEREFROM. SUMMARY OF THE PRINCIPLES ESTABLISHED IN THE PRECEDING CHAPTERS — GOVERNMENTS ARISE FROM CIRCUMSTANCES, SO AS TO BE MORE OR LESS SUITABLE TO THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY— THIS IS A DECLARATION OF THE WILL OF GOD— EVILS ARISING FROM A SUDDEN CHANGE ON THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTER OF ANY GOVERNMENT — COMMON RESULT OF SUCH CHANGES, AND THE CAUSES THEREOF— FURTHER CHANGES FOLLOWING ON SUCH RESULT — PROBABLE MODE OF RESTORING A GOVERNMENT UNDER SUCH CIRCUMSTANCES TO WORKING ORDER — ILLUSTRATED IN THE CASE OF CROMWELL, AND IN THE PRESENT PROCEEDINGS OF THE FRENCH EMPIRE — LIBERTY OP THE PRESS— CLASS OF PERSONS IN WHOM POLITICAL POWER MAY BE SAFELY VESTED— DANGEROUS CLASSES— POINT OF VIEW IN WHICH POLITICAL POWER OUGHT TO BE REGARDED — CAUSE OF MISCONCEPTIONS ON THIS SUBJECT. Political power, as we have now seen, liiimanly speaking, rests on superiority of strength. It may be physical strength, or mental power, or a union of both modified by circumstances. Ee- garding the subject under this aspect, it will be obvious that those who wield this strength may, within certain limits, employ it for any purpose SUMMARY. 321 that they please. There is a tendency, equivalent to an indirect law, under which certain portions of each society combine their strength for the purpose of sustaining each respective government ; and there are various causes perpetually in oper- ation which give certain persons greater or less influence in such governments. This influence is, of course, realised, therefore, through the posses- sion of superior strength ; and, humanly speaking, it rests upon no other foundation whatever. To civil government thus viewed, the words "right," "ought," and "duty" are, as we have seen, perfectly inapplicable. Neither the gover- nors nor the government can have any right, except the right of force ; nor is the subject bound to any obedience except by the law of fear. Yet this is not the general impression with respect to the authority of civil government ; *on the con- trary, there seems a universal conviction, even among those whose theory logically nullifies the conclusion, that magistrates, on some ground or other, are entitled to obedience. This univer- sality of conviction is in itself a proof that there is either a law, or some tendency equivalent to a law, assuring us of its authority, since a uni- versal effect can only be accounted for under the assumption of a law direct or indirect ; that is to say, a law either realised directly in our feelings, or indirectly indicated by the character of our circumstances. Hence, as we have attained an 322 SUMMARY AND DEVELOPMENT indisputable conclusion to the effect that the au- thority of political rights rests on no direct law, there is no other possible assumption, save that it rests on the character of circumstances, and thus must derive its authority from the will of God, as expressed in the arrangements of His providence. In this we have a full explanation of the univer- sal conviction that prevails upon the subject, and which can be explained in no other way. To say that this conclusion may not be true, is simply to say that the arrangements of Providence, which necessarily involve natural law in themselves, con- stitute a system of deception, and hence that the laws of nature implied in them are delusions and falsehoods. If we can bring ourselves to absolute scepticism with respect to all things physical and spiritual, such a supposition may perhaps be a suitable mocle of expressing it in this case. But if we believe anything whatever with respect either to physical or spiritual existence, it is a supposition evidently absurd and untenable, and is indeed substantively a contradiction in terms. From all this it follows that every form of gov- ernment is really a species of theocracy. The Supreme Being does not, indeed, directly prescribe any form of government, nor does He name the persons by whom any form of government is to be administered ; but indirectly, through the arrange- ments of Providence, He sanctions the form of gov- ernment in each case, as well as the authority of OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 323 those who administer it. That neither govern- ments nor those who administer them are in all respects perfect, nor even in many instances such as they might and ought to be, is true, because both must depend in so far on human judgment. To select their respective forms of government, and the persons who are to administer them, is in so far not only left to men themselves, but is a part of the system under which they are tried and disciplined. Yet the general result will be found suitable to the circumstances of each people, because it will flow necessarily from the arrange- ments of Providence. Both governments and gov- ernors, consequently, as they actually exist, have in so far divine recognition, and are thus entitled to obedience, in as far as they do not violate the anterior laws under which God has limited their powers. Whether, therefore, a government be despotic, constitutional, aristocratic, or democratic, we are certain that it is in so far suited to the then con- dition of the governed while it is exposed to no serious threatenings of violent opposition.* We * It will he evident that the same argument applies to all kinds of goA'ernment, civil and ecclesiastical. That the Supreme Being may by direct revelation prescribe a special form of gov- ernment is true, but in that case it must be administered more or less by siq^erhuman instmmentality. This is manifest ; because the same form of government applied to nations in dif- ferent circumstances, and different stages of civilisation, would not work under the ordinary Imcs of Providence. 324 SUMMARY AND DEVELOPMENT are certain of this, because no government can be in a state of security, or free from threatenings of violent opposition, which is inconsistent with the widespread and profound convictions of its sub- jects. Threatenings of violent opposition, how- ever, do not necessarily prove that a government is bad. They may in some instances merely prove a widespread immorality among certain classes of the people, urging them to ambitious aspira- tions, in the hope of promoting their selfish in- terests by change. In this case the subjects are manifestly violating divine law, and if successful will probably soon pay the penalty of such viola- tion. Governments are, therefore, entitled jure divino to the obedience of their subjects in all cases where they do not violate, nor show a pur- pose of violating, privileges essential to the obser- vation of the moral law. When, on the contrary, they do this, they may jure divino be resisted, because they thereby substantively repudiate the only right under which political government can be exercised. Under this very limitation, how- ever, governors are clearly bound to introduce changes on their system of administration, when God through a change of circumstances has indi- cated His will to transfer power in so far from one class to another. No doubt such changes often take place silently both in circumstances and governments. When, however, they take place in circumstances, and legislators refuse to make OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 325 corresponding changes on governments, it must ultimately lead to distractions and violence* This is specially the case where the ruling influence in nations is, from whatever causes, rapidly passing from those who actually exercise official authority into other hands. In such cases there must be a serious risk of political convulsion from the one party being eager to grasp, and the other unwilling to relinquish. There is, indeed, a manifest danger when such a change is in progress, that the former system of government being practically subverted, a new government may supersede it, under the operation of inciden- tal and arbitrary causes, which will, therefore, be anomalous in its character, and, of course, imwork- able in its administration. Should this be the case, generations may pass away ere a smoothly- working machinery can be reconstituted. There generally, indeed, results under such circumstan- ces a widespread restlessness, originating in the discontent of those whom the change has not satisfied, and consequently spasmodic struggles * As people advance in civilisation, a higher amount of political privilege is necessary for enabling them to fulfil the exactions of the moral law as applicable to the change on their intellectual condition. Thence, again, the obligation of governments to extend such privilege as civilisation progresses. Of course, where this is neglected, and subjects feel conscious that the performance of the moral duties which their circum- stances demand is thereby prevented, they are not only en- titled, but bound, where it can be done without generating greater moral evils, to take possession of it for themselves. 326 SUMMARY AND DEVELOPMENT between the various factions approaching more or less nearly to anarchy. These almost invariably end in some species of despotism. All ultimately begin to feel the necessity of peace and of a firm government for the preservation of life and pro- perty. Thus some able adventurer, usually the favourite of the military, is, with the tacit concur- rence of the more powerful section of the people, endowed with supreme authority. Yet this will not last in countries advanced in civilisation. No doubt perfect personal liberty, and entire respect for the rights of labour and property, may exist under the rule of a despot. A despotic government, indeed, under a firm and wise governor, has often, and perhaps truly, been called the best of all governments. Unfortunately, however, few are to be found capable of wisely and firmly regulating unlimited power. No one would feel this more than a wise and firm gover- nor himself ; and looking to the possible charac- ters of those who might follow him, such a ruler would probably prepare for contingencies by train- ing his people to the exercise of self-government. Giving them more or less popular institutions under his own control, he would endeavour to leave to posterity a system realising constitutional principles begun, and capable of working itself into such a shape as would prove suitable to the condition and growing political intelligence of the people. OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 327 It must be confessed, however, that this is a process of which we have no experience. We think the germs of such an attempt can be traced in the government of Oliver Cromwell, certainly one of the ablest and greatest men that ever occupied the position of chief magistrate of a nation. We are also inclined to believe that such germs of intended development are discoverable in the present government of the Emperor of the French. It is indeed almost certain that Louis Napoleon is influenced by some form of this theory, and it would assuredly be the most glorious triumph of statesmanship did he succeed in giving it practical effect. The present government of France cannot. last. The realisation of the theory which we have now suggested, seems the only possible means of preserving the throne to his family, or a perma- nent government to his people. It is indeed true that, as a proof of his despotic tendencies, the Emperor of the French has been accused of overbearing the liberty of the press. But the extent to which entire freedom of the press is compatible with the existence of almost any government, is probably of all problems the most difficult to be solved, and is indeed one of the grand political problems of the present age.* * In Britain we have no sufficient experience. Entire politi- cal freedom of the press is a novelty. America teaches us more upon the subject, but little or nothing bearing on our present purpose. For, passing over the moral and social effects with which the freedom of the press is usually attended, it must be 328 SUMMARY AND DEVELOPMENT Our imperfect experience upon the subject hitherto seems only to show that freedom of the press has a decided tendency to foster democracy. It could not, indeed, we may venture to say, be otherwise. The primary object of all writers who are not devoted to the interests of truth only, must be the sale of their writings. This holds specially of the periodical press, of which the journals are for the most part mere objects of mercantile specu- lation. Now, the sale of writings can be most thoroughly effected by encouraging the prejudices and stimulating the passions of the largest num- bers. No doubt other motives will have a greater or less effect, according to the strength of moral principle in different individuals. But there are multitudes over whom higher motives have little or no influence ; and as surely as human nature is human nature, these writings — especially in observed, that Avliile an immense majority of the people possess propertj^, as is the case in America, the press Avill, nnder the argument which we have stated, necessarily defend property ; and, indeed, any writing that attacked property would be crush- ed. But where a majority have no property, but depend on manual labour for subsistence, the press, under the very same argument, would be led to attack the rights of property ; and, as we have said, the result is unknown. We cannot, however, conceive anything that could prevent anarchy in such a case, except high moral principle prevailing among the gi-eat body of the people. There may be other motives which would operate, but we cannot form the slightest notion of what they are. Apart from moral principle resting on religious grounds, the "greatest happiness of the greatest nuniber " would, amongst the masses, be a motive rather to anarchy than to order. OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 329 the case of cliea]3 publications — will have the widest circulation. It is indeed but justice to the cheap press of our own country to say, that it is as yet, on the whole, conducted with wonderful moderation. Yet its ultra-democratic tendency is manifest to every human being. Now, we do not say that this is wrong, nor do we desire to enter at all on the question of its probable results. We only state an indisputable fact, in order to show that neither the Emperor of the French, nor any other man contemplating the object which we have ascribed to him, can be blamed for regulating the liberty of the political press. Its full develop- ment would be absolutely destructive of the pos- sibility of rearing up a permanent government in any country which had recently been subjected to a series of revolutionary changes. Governments, then, it is clear, are not the result of any formal selection, except to a very limited extent, but flow out of the constitution of things as arranged by the providence of God. That they may be modified for good or evil by the exercise of human wiU is true, but this applies to the details rather than the essential character of the systems. These last must in aU cases be in some measure conformable to the intellectual and moral progress of each people. Hence it is that any sudden change on the essential elements of a government must be attended with the greatest political danger. It is hardly in any case to be 330 SUMMARY AND DEVELOPMENT attempted, indeed, unless where sucli government is manifestly exercising a prejudicial effect on the moral habits of the people. We say hardly, be- cause it is conceivable that circumstances might occur which, in a purely political point of view, would render sudden political changes absolutely necessary. Generally, however, even legitimate and constitutional changes of a very decided kind should never be made, unless to obviate practical evils. Absolute theoretical symmetry in government under the present condition of things is unattain- able. Changes for this purpose will invariably lead to other evils, unforeseen and unexpected. Indeed, changes for the mere purpose of giving political power to discontented parties who plead no practical evil, must, under the principles which we have now endeavoured to establish, be exceed- ingly dangerous in the nature of things. The foundations of government are no doubt more broadly laid, but they are partially laid on quick- sands. Those who are thus introduced to political power are more likely to subvert than to strengthen the structure, while no limit can be constituted against the perpetual recurrence of additional claims. As we have seen, there are no political rights, strictly speaking, except in so far as politi- cal power is actually realised ; and even then it is a trust rather than a right, as is proved from its oriorinatin<:c in an indirect, and not a direct "&"" — j3 OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 33 1 law,* which we are required by God to perform, not for our own advantage, but for the general welfare of the community. If, consequently, it seem desirable that political power should be extended to a larger number, not from any practi- cal evil to be remedied, but for the sake of resting the government on a broader foundation, it should be done with the most extreme caution. From the very nature of the case it is evident that there are dangerous elements at work. There is a spi- rit of pure love of power in operation, which, if gratified beyond certain bounds, will, as matter of necessity, acquire irresistible strength, and must therefore soon subvert the order of society. It * Judicial is a species of subsidiary political power, and the determination of the parties in whom it is vested involves con- sideration of the most immense importance to the welfare of society. Singularly enough, in modern times this subsidiary political power has become more and more limited to a class or profession. The resiilt has come to be, that men believe actions at law to be almost pure gambling. The Eomans allowed no professional judges. The ablest men were selected annually to preside and direct certain parties to whose decision generally each case was referred, and who somewhat resembled modern juries. Neither the presidents, nor generally the jurors, were paid. That such a system, carefully constituted, would meet some of the evils of modern times, especially in the diminution of the advantage which rich suitors possess over those that are poor, seems clear, and probably the decisions on the whole might, if less technical, be quite as equitable. As democracy advances, it seems at all events highly improbable that judicial proceed- ings can continue as they are. The subject is deeply interest- ing, but the nature of our purpose prevents us from entering on it at length. 332 SUMMARY AND DEVELOPMENT rests on selfish desire, inconsistent with that principle of obedience to the laws of Providence, under which political government can alone per- manently exist. In truth, there are only two classes of persons with whom it is safe to intrust political power, supposing intellectual qualifications to be equal. The one consists of those who, from a high sense of principle, seek the true interests of the com- munity as a moral duty. The other consists of those who are possessed of property sufficient to make them afraid of political convulsions, and who, therefore, from motives of self-interest, will watch the circumstances of the times, and so regulate their political conduct as to preserve life and property unassailed and unassailable. "Where those who seek political influence on mere self- ish grounds constitute the ruling power, and the majority are without property, life and property can only be preserved through the use of bribery, or similar means addressed to their passions or self-interest. Mere ability and knowledge, apart from high moral principle or self-interest, are rather dangerous than otherwise in persons pos- sessed of political power.* Yet perhaps even * The theory that education Avill fit men for the possession of political power, in the .sense of making them safe custodiers of life and property, apart from moral principle and self-interest, is too absurd to deserve a reply. It is little more tenable to maintain that education will teach those wlio have nothing, to oppose the equalisation of property as injurious to their inte- OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 333 more dangerous still are the persons who, with a smattering of superficial knowledge, believe them- selves to have an inherent right to political power, and are prepared to exercise it, if it can be pro- cured, for the realisation of some scheme of what they profess to consider political perfection, but which seems invariably to end, as matter of fact, in flattering their own prejudices, and gratifying their own selfishness or vanity. When a govern- ment falls into the hands of such parties, its doom is sealed. In a word, as we have already indicated, politi- cal power is not a right, but a social trust, to which the nomination partly flows from the arrangements of Providence, and partly results from the exercise of free-will in the people among rests. The assumption is not true. It is not, at all events, injurious to their interests foi' the time, which is the motive by which the mass of men is influenced ; and in the case of multi- tudes it is not injurious to their permanent worldly interests. It is vain to tell men that a week's time would make differ- ences again, as the idle and profligate would quickly spend what they had got. Every one would answer, " That would not hap- pen in my case ; " or if there were any honest enough to admit the possibility of such a thing in regard to themselves, they would at all events be prepared to take their chance, and in- dulge their desires while their money lasted. But even suppos- ing, under a philosophical deduction, it could be found for their worldly advantage that the rights of property should be main- tained, which it could not he, yet it must be remembered that de- sire, jealousy, envy, malignity, are to be thrown into the scale ; and he who believes that respect for property would outweigh all these in the present state of the world, must be imbued with a spirit of hopefulness which sets all experience at defiance. 334 SUMMARY AND DEVELOPMENT whom it is enjoyed. So far as the latter element is concerned, it should only be open to those who exhibit industry, energy, and high character. When, therefore, a man has proved himself to be possessed of these qualifications by that success in life which is the best practical test of them, he should be admissible to a share in political power. He has proved himself to be worthy of it, and capable of exercising it for the public good, by a test which, though extremely imperfect, yet seems to be the only one practically possible, while the property which he has acquired gives security for him that he will endeavour to preserve the peace of society. Yet it ought to be distinctly under- stood that he has no right to it, except in so far as his being in a position to receive it gives him a right from God, under the conditions and limita- tions which every divine right must imply. He is bound to regard it, in other words, as a trust rather than a right ; and to understand that he receives it as a mark of the approbation with which his countrymen regard his past, and the confidence which they repose in his future con- duct. Let this theory be adopted by any people as the basis of their political government, and the very nature of the case demonstrates that the best and noblest administration of it that is pos- sible will be secured. These details are not only deducible from the principles which have been established, but are OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 335 evidently conformable to common experience and common sense. Into more minute details it is not our intention to enter. The character of more minute details, it will be manifest from the whole of our argument, can only be predicated w^ith respect to special forms of government. These, however, are to be determined, as we have seen, according to circumstances. Hence the common discussion as to whether monarchy, aristocracy, democracy, or any given combination of them, is to be preferred as a form of government, implies in its very expression a misconception of the condition of human beings, and consequently of the foundation and purpose of government. One form will be best for one state of society, and another for another. In some states of society a despotism would be impossible ; in others a democracy would be impossible ; in many a con- stitutional or mixed form of government would be impossible.* * From this it is manifest, that to apply the form of govern- ment suitable for a particular kingdom to the provinces de- pendent thereupon, but of which the people are in an entirely different intellectual and social condition, must prove ruinous to their peace. It matters nothing though the form so applied should be of the highest excellence. Hence appears the wisdom of the ancient Romans, who left the governments of their con- quered provinces as nearly as possible just as they found them. To have forced on them the government of Eome, however supe- rior it may have been in abstract excellence, would, they saw, have been to disorganise them. But they left them as they were, and thus retained them in comparative tranquillity, some- times under very unfavourable circumstances. The most un- 33^ SUMMARY AND DEVELOPMENT The peculiar modifications most suitable in eacli case are perfectly undiscoverable a priori, and can only be determined by actual circumstan- ces, as they emerge under the operation of an infinity of different causes. With a knowledge of those principles, however, and those more general particulars which we have now endeavoured to establish, there can be no serious difficulty in arranging details, as experience develops the char- acter and interests of each people. It would indeed be very interesting, and might serve to illustrate our conclusions, did circum- stances permit us to analyse a variety of political constitutions, so as to exhibit the advantages and defects of each respectively. This, however, would involve an extension of the present work far beyond the bounds wdiich we had contem- plated, and would imply an appeal to considera- tions of a purely incidental character, either alto- gether away hom. fundamental spiritual truth, or, at all events, only indirectly connected with it. It is enough for our purpose if it has been proved, as we trust has been thoroughly done, that the foundation of political government must be rested exclusively either on mere force, or else on the decree and ordination of the Supreme tenable tlieoiy, that a constitutional government, beeanse fitted for tbe circumstances of one countiy, is therefore most suitable for the circumstances of all countries, is, however, not only en- tertained by many, but is openly avowed ! OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 337 Being. Of His will, consequently, in respect to the administrators of government, tlie influence appertaining to the position which each actually occupies must constitute the proof and the test. We may take our choice of these as the founda- tion of political government, but there is no other supposition possible. Yet even this choice only implies a conceivable result, for our feelings assure us that force is not the only foundation of political authority. Every man is conscious of an undercurrent of conviction pressing on him, that there is a higher authority sanctioning political arrangements, and obliging him to obedience. In this way we hear appeals continually made to political right even by the most unthinking and illiterate, while no one seems exactly to know in what such political right con- sists, nor, consequently, does any one, of course, pretend to determine its precise limits. Hence the extreme vagueness under which men have been content to receive theories of political gov- ernment. They have rested satisfied with a poli- tical philosophy which, on any other subject, they would have rejected with merited contempt. But feeling that there is something, be it what it may, beyond the theory sanctioning such government, they supplement the one by a tacit belief in the other. Now, this tacit or partially unconscious belief we trust that we have succeeded in putting into Y 338 SUMMARY. such a form, in connection with our previous argument as to religion and morals, as will secure for it a recognised and conscious conviction. In this way political government, ceasing to depend on mere empirical belief, is made to rest on the conclusions of a strictly philosophical science ; its principles being understood, and its purposes in the highest sense being rendered practically avail- able. APPENDIX. A, page 84. VIEWS OF M. COMTE, AND THE POSITIVE PHILOSOPHY. In thus reducing the argument for the being of a God as arising from the adjustment and organisation of the uni- verse to its principle, we speciallj" claim the sanction of those who belong to what has been called the " positive " school of philosojDhy. The argument, in fact, is conducted on the strictest principles of positivism. " Nous renon9ons a chercher I'origine et la destination de I'univers," says M. Comte, " et a connaitre les causes intimes des pheno- nienes, pour nous attacher uniquement a decouvrir, par I'usage bien combine du raisonnement et de 1' observation, leur lois effectives, c'est-a-dire leurs relations invariables de succession et de similitude." In this view it simply con- stitutes natural theology an essential branch of the " posi- tive " philosophy. To understand this clearly it must be kept in view, although few even of M. Comte' s avowed disciples seem to be aware of it, that the " positive " philosophy and the "Comtian" philosophy are two entirely different things. It is utterly a mistake to suppose that the " positive " phi- losophy implies atheism. The " positive " philosophy is simply another name which M. Comte has been pleased to 340 APPENDIX. give to the old " inductive " philosophy commonly ascribed to Bacon. It is not opposed, therefore, to the inductive philosophy, as many seem to suppose, with which it is, on the contrary, perfectly identical, but to what M. Comte calls the " theological and metaphysical stages of philosophy." It is indeed true that M. Comte, while repudiating anti- theism, yet professed himself to be an athiest in the ordin- ary sense of the word, but it was on grounds which had nothing whatever to do with what he called the " positive" philosophy. This was a part of the " Comtian " philoso- phy, which assumes that the being of a God could not be proved inductively. It is this assumption which, we trust, our argument demonstrates to be erroneous. "VVe have shown in the text that the adjustment and organisation of the universe is a phenomenon, as much as the adjustment and organisation of a steam-engine is a phenomenon ; and that we must refer the former to an intelligent agent, under exactly the same process as we refer the latter to an intelli- gent agent. We prove thus that belief in an intelligent God is an essential part of the ^'■positive " philosophy, un- less, indeed, Comte had been prepared to deny that belief in the intelligence of our fellow-creatures is a part of the "positive" philosophy, in which case his whole system must have fallen to pieces. To illustrate this matter more fully, it may not be with- out advantage to give a sketch of the leading principles of the Comtian philosophy, not as being a matter of any im- portance in itseK, but because we hear a mysterious pro- fundity not unfrequently ascribed to it, and which renders it eminently the philosophy of multitudes who do not know what it is, and who would assuredly laugh at it, and at themselves, did they know the true nature of the deity which they worship. It is founded on the notion that there are three modes of philosophising which do and must follow each other in suc- cessive order with respect to every subject — viz., the theolo- gical, the metaphysical, and the " positive " or inductive APPENDIX. 341 modes. The first, or theological mode, Comte thinks, refers all effects to supernatural agency. The second, or meta- physical mode, refers effects to occult qualities. The last, or positive mode, explains effects by the action of phenomena on phenomena, and its philosophy consists thus in general- ising the relations of j^henomena; or, in other words, in ascertaining their laws. The theory is an utter delusion. It is an entire error to suppose that in the early ages of the world, or in any state of society, men attributed or attribute all effects directly to superhuman causes ; or, in other words, philosophise by a theological mode. When a stone sank through the water, in early ages they attributed it to the relative character of the two bodies, and they gene- ralised this knowledge so as to believe that under the same circumstances the same effect would invariably follow, so that in thus far they were as much metaphysical and posi- tive philosophers as the men of any other age. When the people of those times chewed their meat, they did not in like mamier attribute it to any superhuman agency, but to the action of their teeth upon the food ; and they also gene- ralised this knowledge so as to believe that under the same circumstances the same effect would invariably follow. The same thing held true with regard to an infinity of other particidars. It held true of every particular of which the direct cause ivas known. It was only unknown causes that they attributed to superhuman agency, and unknown causes all men did, and do still, attribute more or less to super- limuan agency, thus showing that a belief in superhuman agency somehow necessarily results from the condition of the human mind. That which M. Comte calls the " metaphysical " mode of philosophising is, again, common to all ages. Every direct cause is an " occult " cause. Unless it be with respect to our own minds, we do not know the absolute or essen- tial nature of any cause whatever. The ancients, indeed, imagined that we had some absolute knowledge of qualities, which we know to be a mistake, our knowledge being 342 APPENDIX. purely relative, but this made no difference to their mode of philosophising. They attributed no more to entities than we do to qualities. They philosophised by induction, as men have ever done and ever must do. The alchemist, for example, philosophised as much by experiment as the chemists do in the present day. The real error of the ancients, which M. Comte seems to misapprehend, lay in their assumption of a priori hypotheses, to the realisation of which they directed their experiments exclusively. They thus had their attention turned away in a great measure from the really useful conclusions, to which their experi- ments, conducted under a correct knowledge of the use of hypotheses, would have probably led them. We say under a correct knowledge of the use of hypotheses, because all men philosophise under some form of hypothesis, and must do so ; but in modern times they modify their hypotheses according to the progressive results of their experiments, and thus are enabled much more readily to ascertain true causes. In this we have the source, and the only source, of the sujDeriority of modern science. As knowledge extended, of course the number of effects attributed to direct superhuman agency diminished, not from any change in the mode of philosophising, but because the direct causes of effects became known to a greater and greater extent. Men still attributed the more remote causes of effects or phenomena, and those of which no pro- bable theory could be imagined, to superhuman agency. Indirectly., therefore, they did, and do, and ever will, attri- bute all effects to superhuman agency — ^. e., they recognise the action of qualities directly, but they consider the causes of those qualities themselves to be superhuman. Our modes of philosophising, therefore, instead of being divisible into theological, metaphysical, and positive stages, are identi- cally the same in j^^inciple now as they ever were. The only difference is, that our knowledge of direct causes is increased and extended. We just as much as ever regard qualities as the direct means of producing effects, and super- APPENDIX. 343 huraan agency as the indirect or final means. The modes of philosophising are, therefore, precisely Avhat they ever were, and what it seems certain they must ever be. As our knowledge extends, we are able to refer a larger number of effects to direct causes ; but the causes of these causes, and generally all phenomena, of the causes of which we can conceive no probable theory, we are compelled to attribute to the action of intelligent superhimian power. What M. Comte means b}^ assuming philosophy to be the investigation of laws, it is very difficult under his theory to understand. A knowledge of laws must imply a knowledge of causes ; or, in other words, a tacit recognition of occult jiowers operatinfi.'^ But if we recognise occult powers ope- rating, his philosophy, so far as it involves anything which can be called his own, must immediately vanish. Why should we not in that case recognise the operation of enti- ties ? Why not of superhuman agency ? We have seen none of Comte's disciples who have attempted to meet this apparently insuperable difiiculty, nor does Comte himself appear to have felt it. Yet the assumption that we can somehow appreciate the nature of causation, and the action of causes, lies at the foundation of his system, and must indeed lie at the foundation of every philosophical system. * It seems quite inconsistent with his general theory, which ap- pears to limit all knowledge to the 'phenomena of perception. Causes are not phenomena of perception. How, then, do we come to know them ? Conitists say that we know them from experience. It is substantively the theory of Hume, with whom, singularly enough, almost every form of scepticism having the appearance of plausibil- ity has originated. But experience can only tell us of that which is past; it cannot assure us of that which is to come. It cannot assure us that all effects must have causes, or that certain causes will be followed by certain effects. There is a something behind which induces us to believe in experience, and which does not arise from pe7-ception at all, hut is purely mental. We have already ex- plained that it is our personal sense of the nature both of physical and efficient power. But it matters nothing what it is, if it be ad- mitted, as it must be admitted, that it is a mental tendency. 344 APPENDIX. Without it all pliilosopliy, and indeed every pretence at philosophising, must be annihilated. If we do not admit the existence of occult powers which 7iiust act permanently in the same way, science of every kind is at an end. Mr J. S. Mill * is of opinion that Comte intended to admit the existence of physical, but not of efficient causes. We should like to hear a reasonable ground for believing in physical, and not in efficient, causation. At all events, we trust it has been proved in the text that all men do believe in effi- cient causation, if they believe in the existence of their fellow-creatures. On this whole subject of causation M. Comte seems to have been specially at sea. His most de- voted disciples hardly know what is to be made of his theory in regard to it. As to the classification which Comte derives from his imaginary series of modes of philosophising, it just comes to this, that sciences which depend upon other sciences are posterior in date to those on which they depend. Of course they are. It is unnecessary to dwell on the speciali- ties of his classification, however liable to objection, for it has no bearing upon our subject ; but his princijjle is un- doubtedly true, and we believe has been accepted as true in all ages. We are not aware that in stating the proposi- tion formally, or in applying it, he has made it available for any useful or %>Tactical piuyose whatever. Comte rej)udiates psychology, or the observation of our mental states, and consecutive induction therefrom. It is a result of his materialistic philosojDhy. Hence the only intellectual philosophy that he conceives to be possible is phrenology. He singularly forgets, as Mill has demonstra- * I have adopted Mr Mill's view of Comte's plulosopliy m these remarks, because, though professuig to differ from liim iu many particulars, Mr Mill is generally an admirer, and almost a discij^le, of his philosophy. It has been my wish to regard every man's opinions under the most favourable and defensible aspect. Had I given my own view of the nature of Comte's philosophy, it would have been verv different. APPENDIX. 345 lively shown, that there can be no such science as phre- nology, granting it to be a science, except by comparing the structure of the brains of different men with their moral characters, as discovered hy jysycliology. We could not even conceive the idea of feelings and faculties, &c., by merely looking at the brain. A certain amount of anterior jDsychological investigation is manifestly essential to our knowledge of feelings and faculties, and even of the existence of mind at all. This theory, which is thus manifestly impossible, is Comte's theory of the " positive " philosophy of mind. A mistake so manifest and so enor- mous could hardly fail, one would think, to stagger the faith even of those who are most inclined to be his disciples. This theory of the truth of phrenology, however, being assumed, it might have been expected to constitute the groundwork of Comte's sociology. We should suppose that every one, under this view, would be educated accord- ing to the structure of his brain. In that case there could be no doubt as to what his character must be. We should have a sort of realisation of the theory of Plato's republic. Every man, up to the extent of his education, would feel exactly what he ought to feel, and do exactly what he ought to do ; with this immense advantage, that every science would soon be perfected by our having an opportunity of selecting the individuals most suited for the study of each, and of providing them with the most suitable instructors. Something like this, indeed, Comte seems actually to have had in his mind, but finding the attempt to form any system under such a theory hopeless, he, whether consciously or unconsciously, falls back on psychology, that very psychology which he had repudiated, and endeavours to explain the philosophy of the social world by psychological considerations, intermixed with a vast deal of mere arbitrary assertion, which he strives to verify by an appeal to history. In all this we cannot discover anything in M. Comte's social philosophy which 34^ APPENDIX. can be of any practical use. The tendency of his historical narrative seems much to resemble that of the writings of the late Mr Buckle, in showing that men in all ages are influenced by the same general causes. This, in so far, is undoubtedly true, but it appears difficult to conceive why so much time and trouble should have been spent in proving it. The fact has been admitted and acted upon by men in all ages, although it never can be proved in the extreme form in which these writers have adopted it. They both have fallen into the system of the earlier ages, and adopted an a priori theory which they afterwards set themselves to prove, in defiance of all counteracting con- siderations. The social X)hilosophy of Comte, consequently, affords no practical results, except such as are so manifestly extravagant as of themselves to shake all faith in his system. Thus, for example, in the words of Mr Mill, according to Comte, " The undisputed authority which astronomers possess in astronomy will be possessed on the great social questions by positive philosophers, to whom will belong the spiritual government of society, subject to two conditions : that they be entirely independent within their own sphere of the temporal government, and that they be peremptorily excluded from all share in it, receiving instead the entire conduct of education." "^ The general proposition would extend the authority of positive philosophers over the universe. The conditions are evidently contradictory and impossible. Yet there can be no doubt that the principle which Comte intended to form the basis of his theory of sociology is perfectly correct. I give it again in Mr Mill's words : "Personal interests and feelings in the social state can only attain the maximum of satisfaction by means of co- operation, and the necessary condition of co-operation is a common belief. All human society, consequently, is grounded on a system of fundamental opinions, which * "^Anguste Comte and Positivism/ by John Stuart Mill. APPENDIX. 347 only the speculative faculty can provide, and whicli, when provided, directs our other impulses in their mode of seek- ing their gratification." This theory, pushed to its legiti- mate extent, gives the precise system of morality which we have advocated. But it cannot be pushed to its legiti- mate extent, apart from the assumption of an intelligent and morally perfect God. Apart from this, the very idea of men " obtaining the maximum of satisfaction by means of co-operation," is manifestly absurd. We want the co- operation of the very being that can alone, hy possibility, afford us the "maximum of satisfaction." The co-opera- tion of all our fellow-creatures, taken together, can never assure us of one moment's satisfaction, and still less of " the maximum of satisfaction," which must not only be intense, but permanent. As to M. Comte's religious system, it appears so extra- ordinary as almost to exceed belief. It simply shows that every man who attempts to frame a system of spiritual philosophy will be absolutely forced to recognise some sort of religion. We all hanker after it. His God, or the grand etre, as he calls it, is the whole human race, past, present, and to come. This God is to be worshipped in our mothers as representatives of the past, our wives as representatives of the present, and our daughters as repre- sentatives of the future. What obligation lies on us to worship the grand etre, or why it should be worshipped in our mothers, wives, and daughters, nowhere clearly appears. Religion, if it be anything, is the science which teaches us our relation to superhuman beings. If it does not mean this, it means nothing at all. The theory of M. Conite, therefore, is not a theory of religion in any sense, but a wild theory of morality ; nor can it, consequently, in any measure meet that belief in super- human agency, which, under some form or other, is spread over the whole world. So strongly does M- Comte feel this, that, in entire opposition to his materialism, he ulti- mately introduces into his system a sort of Fetishism, 348 APPENDIX. according to wliicli eacli particular existence is regulated by its particular God. Mr Mill insinuates that tins part of his writings was probably not composed until his mind had begun to weaken. We cannot think this supposition warranted. There are many passages in M. Comte's later writings which prove his mind to have been as vigorous as ever. His religion seems merely the result of an attempt at working out his system to some measure of consistency and completeness. But he necessarily failed, because no system of sociology or morality of any kind can be made consistent and complete, so as to explain the phenomena, except under the assumption of the existence of an intelligent God, infinite in all His attributes. Apart from this assimiption, the condition of human beings is an inextricable anomaly. If other theories of materialism seem less extravagant than that of Comte, it is because their authors stoj) short, and never attempt to complete them as wholes. They are thus mere fragments, which Test upon an arbitrary assumption, that all things physical and moral are regulated solely by the ordinary laws of nature, the origin of which is left entirely unexplained. Under such an assumption, however, the existence of human beings and the constitution of human society be- come, as we have indicated, unaccountable and monstrous anomalies ; to attempt the determination, consequently, of anything like principles of sociology or morality must end in contradiction and extravagance. We do not dwell on M. Comte's system of worship, nor on the strange and super- stitious dogmas in which he professes to believe, because we have no wish to say anything disres23ectful of him, and still less to ridicule his system. Every man is entitled to hold his own opinions, and if we believe any man's opinions ruinous to his happiness, we are rather bound to grieve for his errors, and to seek their remedy in a right spirit, than to mock and to vilify them. We have thus sketched M. Comte's system of spiritual philosophy under the most favourable aspect in which it APPENDIX. 349 can be regarded, because it is said to be exercising a great influence on mankind, while we are convinced that few in this country, at all events, have anything like an accurate notion of its real character. " Positivism," which is merely another name that M. Comte has chosen to give to the in- ductive j)hilosophy, has been confused with materialism. That M. Comte was himself a materialist is true, but not as a positivist He has, however, in substance refuted his own materialism by his system, and under a process more thoroughly effective than probably any one else could have employed. We are all, therefore, " Positivists ; " but if people really knew what " Comtism " is, there would, it is certain, be very few Comtists in the world. B, page 90. There are two forms which this theory assumes. Under the one all living organisms are supposed to spring from a single existence by a continued series of developments. According to the other, all kinds of embryo creatures being produced by nature, those which are strongest are sup- posed to survive, and thereafter to propagate, and by devel- opment to perfect themselves, while the weaker and more imperfect perish. Neither of the theories proves the universe to be eternal, but rather the reverse, since the question manifestly recurs. Whence did the primary existences de- rive their origin, whether one or many ? and whence specially the organisation which involved in itself such prodigious powers of progression and adjusted develop- ment ? Setting this aside, however, it may be remarked in re- gard to these forms of theory, that under the former it is impossible to explain the generic differences of living organisms ; while under the second it is equally impossible 350 APPENDIX. to explain the universality of that archetypal identity in all such organisms which the transcendental anatomy appears to have demonstrated. It is useless, however to dwell on mere difficulties with respect to a theory which, under either of its forms, implies an assumption which the text proves to be false and im- possible apart from intelligent agency. Were it worth while to suggest the absurdities involved in it, we might ask how natural products of the earth could, under any natural process, develop animals out of vegetables ? and where are to be found the gradual and continuous mani- festations of such a process ? How under any mere natu- ral process these animals, again, could develop lungs relating them to the air ? how teeth, stomach, and bowels, hy a circuitous process relating them to the vegetables on which they are sustained, and to other animals of a differ- ent kind — how under any natural process they could have developed eyes relating them to the sun ? There is no end to the extravagances and impossibilities which such a theory involves. Granting that development of some kind were possible which implied self-subsistence, a farther natural development, involving the dependence of the subject on external objects with which it naturally HAD NO connection, is not only inconceivable apart from intelligent agency, but the very expression of it seems a contradiction in terms. Though these forms of theory seem not only improbable but impossible, they would not, therefore, in the slightest degree interfere with our argu- ment for the being of a God. On the contrary, there is no theory that can even be imagined which can evade or weaken it. APPENDIX. 351 C, page 299. It may be worth while to illustrate this by examples. I take them from the Duke of Buckingham's ' Courts and Cabinets of William IV. and Victoria.' The Duke has ex- tracted the following passages as samples of the style of writing circulated among the humbler orders about the time that the Reform Bill of 1832 was passed: — " And are the people of England such sorry slaves that they can only talk and sing of freedom ? Will not they, too, resist the laws of these tyrants ? Will not they, too (as well as the French), have a glorious revolution ? We must resist it, for be the laws binding on you, they are not on us. We have not consented to them. We have never authorised, hut have ever denied the ^oower of any man, or any set of men, or any William Gueljyh, or any other Guelph, to control our actions, and make laws for us. We deny such power now, and ive ivill not he hound hy their laws.'' — Foor Man's Guardian, 1831. "But citizen Hetherington does not acknowledge the validity of an Act of Parliament under which he has been convicted. It is not binding on him. He has nothing to do with it, except to defy it. And why does he defy it ? Because he had no rej^resentation in the Parliament in ivhich this villanous ordinance was passed. He considers the damnable, knowledge-taxing mandate of the borough- mongering parliamentarians as much binding on the unre- presented people of England, as the contemptible, impotent ordinances of Charles Capet were binding on the people of France." — The Republican ; or. The Sovereignty of the People, 1831. " I make no exception. The royal family of England is as great an evil in England as the royal family of Spain is in Spain, of Portugal in Portugal, of France in France, of Prussia in Prussia, of Turkey in Turkey. . . . With the voice of a man, with the spirit of a good man and a 352 APPENDIX. citizen struggling to be free, I cry out to all Europe, and more particularly to my own countrymen, Down with Kings, Priests, and Lords ! . . . Either in war or in j)eace, Kingcraft, Priestcraft, and Lordcraft, is a system of murder, plunder, and spoliation ; then down with Kings, Priests, and Lords!" — The Prompter, 18th June 1831. It is unnecessary to dwell on the vanity and violence exhibited in these passages. But his Grace does not even attempt to answer the argument involved in them, and which, had the writers known its principle, might have been pushed a great deal farther. He only hints, by a reference to " the three tailors of Tooley Street," that they had not the power to carry their theory into effect. It is strange that his Grace did not perceive this to be precisely the argument of the writers whom he quoted, somewhat more decently expressed. It is as much an appeal to force as if he had replied in so many terms that the existing government had the military and police on their side. The argrmient can only be logically answered on the prin- ciples laid down in our text, and it well behoves all who desire the maintenance of existing government on a claim of right to ponder this consideration. If they imagine that any other principle can enable them to reply to such rea- soning, let them tell us what it is ? None of the ordinary theories of politics enable us to answer it, and we cannot doubt, from the very nature of the case, that no other form of theory can possibly do so, except the assumption that all governments enjoy their power under the direct authority of God, so long as it is exercised in subordina- tion to His moral law. Apart from this assumption there can be no political right, and consequently the true principle of political government apart from it would be a principle of anarchy. 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