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 THE CONGREGATIONAL LECTUEE, 
 
 FIRST SERIES. 
 
 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. 
 
 BY RALPH WARDLAW, D.D. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 REED AND PARDON, PRINTERS, 
 
 PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
CHRISTIAN ETHICS; 
 
 01?, 
 
 MORAL PHILOSOPHY 
 
 PRINCIPLES OE DIVINE REVELATION. 
 
 RALPH^ARDLAW, D.D. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JACKSON AND WALFOED, 
 
 18, st. Paul's churchyard. 
 
 MDCCCLII. 
 
HEQL. 
 PREFACE. 
 
 By some, the author fears, the Title of this work may 
 be deemed presumptuous, and may possibly be censured, 
 as holding out promises of more than it performs, and so 
 of exciting expectations which it does not fulfil. He wishes 
 it to be regarded as strictly and exclusively elementary, — 
 having for its design to investigate and ascertain princi- 
 ples, not at all to unfold the details of duty, or furnish a 
 practical commentary on the Commandments. Had not 
 the Title, indeed, been formally announced in the opening 
 of the first Lecture, he would now have been disposed to 
 modify it to — Elements of Moral Philosophy, on the Prin- 
 ciples of Divine Eevelation. In forming an estimate, 
 therefore, of his labours, the critic, he trusts, will bear in 
 mind the avowed extent of their aim; and will not con- 
 demn, as a defect, the absence of that which they were 
 never intended to supply. He will himself be satisfied, if, 
 by those intelligent fellow-christians, whose approbation, 
 next to that of his Divine Master, he is solicitous to obtain, 
 he shall be thought to have at all succeeded even in his 
 limited object, and so to have done any effectual service to 
 the cause of Truth. 
 
 There are two things which the Title presupposes or 
 considers as assumed, — the existence of God, and the au 
 thority of the Scriptures as a revelation from Him. The 
 former evidently lies at the foundation of all religious 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 principle, — of all moral obligation. Deny a God, and you 
 annihilate both. Kational creatures, indeed, (if we may 
 speak of creatures, when we are supposing no Creator,) 
 finding themselves in possession of existence, whence- 
 soever they may have received it, and experiencing asso- 
 ciation to be in a high degree conducive to their mutual 
 benefit, might consult and come to agreement respecting 
 the rules by which their reciprocal conduct should be 
 regulated:— and, having so agreed, they might be said to 
 have come under obligation to one another for the 
 observance of these rules. But there could neither be 
 any will or authority superior to their own, nor any pre- 
 vious source or principle of obligation, by which they 
 could be at all bound in framing the laws of their inter- 
 course. The obligation, such as it is, would be entirely 
 self-originated and self-imposed. — And, as to personal 
 obligation, independent of the social compact, it is mani- 
 fest there could be nothing of the kind. No individual 
 could be bound to act in one way rather than in another. 
 There could be no law but his own will, choosing and 
 determining according as circumstances might dictate 
 what was most for his own interest, or his own enjoyment. 
 — I have no argument, then, in the following disquisitions, 
 with the atheist. 
 
 But neither, strictly speaking, have I any argument 
 with the infidel. In assuming the authority of revelation, 
 I occupy no common ground with him who denies it. It is 
 to the believers of its authority, — it is to fellow-christians, 
 that I make my appeal ; and especially to those amongst 
 them, to whom Divine providence has assigned situations 
 of influence, in disciplining the minds, nurturing and 
 maturing the principles, and forming the personal or 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 official characters, of the rising youth. I dare hardly 
 avow my heart's wish, lest the avowal should be interpreted 
 into a presumptuous expectation of contributing to its ful- 
 filment, — that the science of our land were more generally 
 and decidedly " baptized into Christ." Would it were so! 
 Would that Christians were more on the alert in looking 
 to their principles ! — more sensitively alive to the danger 
 arising from the intrusion of an insidious philosophy, in 
 adulterating the purity, obscuring the simplicity, lowering 
 the tone, and paralyzing the authority, of the truths of 
 God! — When I say, however, that I have no argument 
 with the infidel, let me not be misunderstood. I mean 
 not, that there is nothing in the following pages bearing 
 any relation to the controversy between him and the 
 believer. On the contrary, I conceive the just exhibition 
 of the moral principles of the Sacred Volume to form a 
 very important and interesting branch of the internal evi- 
 dence of its truth. I believe the Bible to be its own best 
 witness. Like all the other works of God, it bears upon it 
 the impress of its Author ; and being, more than all the 
 rest, if I may so express myself, a moral work, it bears the 
 special impress of moral character. — It is obviously, how- 
 ever, no part of my province, in such a series of Dis- 
 courses, to establish the authority of the Sacred Eecord, 
 but only to bring to the test of its principles the varieties 
 of human theory. 
 
 In attempting, with all diffidence, this weighty task, it 
 would have been interminable to bring forward in syste- 
 matic order and duly proportioned prominence, and to 
 defend by their respectively appropriate modes of argu- 
 ment, the various distinguishing doctrines of revelation ; 
 thus presenting, in regular form, an entire system of divinity , 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 as an introductory basis for a superstructure of morals. 
 What the doctrines are which I regard as constituting the 
 peculiar truths of revealed religion, I have chosen rather 
 to leave to be discovered from the tenor of the discussions : 
 — and, as a minister of the word of God, I should be 
 ashamed and grieved to have ever so expressed myself, as 
 that any attentive reader should for one moment be at a 
 loss to apprehend the views of those doctrines which I 
 entertain. The first Lecture will sufficiently show the 
 light in which I regard all trimming, on such subjects, 
 between the wisdom of God and the wisdom of men. — 
 There is only one point, on which, since the delivery of the 
 Lectures, I have at times felt a rising and lingering regret 
 that I had not insisted somewhat more formally and at 
 large : — I refer to the present state and character of human 
 nature. In the Lectures, the position has, to a great 
 degree at least, been hypothetically assumed, that the 
 nature of man is not now what it originally was ; — that it 
 is fallen, and in a state of alienation from God. And yet, 
 after all, in assuming this position, what more have I done 
 than assume the authority of revelation ? The doctrine 
 stands out in the Divine record with prominent notoriety, 
 by frequent, unequivocal statement, — by manifest and per- 
 vading implication, — and by the whole bearing of its 
 peculiar discoveries, respecting the Divine provision for 
 the restoration of this apostate nature to its original prin- 
 ciples, — for bringing it back to God, and to the purity and 
 the bliss from which it fell. — Nor is there any doctrine in 
 support of which, on the principle of the inductive philo- 
 sophy, an appeal might be made, to a more overwhelming 
 multiplicity of facts in the history, and more especially in 
 the religious history, of the human race. I refer, in a 
 
PEEFACE. IX 
 
 particular manner, to the fact of the early, universal, and 
 permanent loss of the knowledge of the true God, — although 
 originally possessed, and although kept incessantly before 
 the mind by remembrancers the clearest and the most 
 impressive in every department of creation, — and the sub- 
 stitution in his room, of all the varieties of polytheistic 
 idolatry, the most fantastic, cruel, and impure, — in every 
 respect " a lie " against the only Deity. This one fact 
 I cannot but regard as of itself decisive; — affirming it, 
 with all confidence, to have been impossible in a world 
 where God was loved, — nay, in any world where there was 
 not, in the nature of its inhabitants, an inveterate and 
 fearful tendency to forget and to depart from him. — And 
 to this might be added a no less confident appeal, amongst 
 all classes and descriptions of society, to present and uni- 
 versal observation, experience, and consciousness. Let 
 these bear witness whether this be a world in which the 
 love of God is the dominant principle, — in which piety 
 bears the sway! Bring the question to the test of all the 
 ordinary modes in which affection is accustomed to express 
 itself. Were it tried by this criterion, there could be but 
 one conclusion in every unprejudiced mind, — that we are 
 not in a world of loyalty and love, but of fearful disaffection 
 and rebellion. And the question of human depravity ought 
 to turn on this one point, — the state of the heart towards 
 God. There is no need for expatiating on the wide and 
 varied field of men's intercourse with each other, — though 
 here too there might be found abundant proofs of our 
 general position: — the inquiry should be concentrated on 
 the one criterion stated; — love to God, or enmity against 
 him, being the essence, respectively, of good or of evil ; — 
 and the latter being capable of subsistence and operation, 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 even under its most virulent forms, in the very midst of 
 many of those outward decencies, and social amiabilities, 
 and "moral accomplishments," which are naturally pro- 
 duced by the conventional virtues of the world. These are 
 virtues, indeed, which, on the principle of mutual benefit 
 before adverted to, might, to no inconsiderable extent, be 
 creditably maintained even in a community of atheists. — 
 But I must resist the temptation to enter further into this 
 most interesting theme. The number and variety of points 
 in it, which rise up in array before my mind, demanding 
 successive notice, satisfy me that it could not be duly dis- 
 cussed, without a treatise much longer than it would be at 
 all seemly to introduce here. 
 
 I leave it to the Committee of the Congregational 
 Library to prefix their own explanation of the occasion 
 on which this series of Lectures was delivered. — It is right 
 for me, however, to state, that I owe my appointment for 
 the first series to the circumstance of my learned and 
 excellent friend, the Kev. Dr. John Pye Smith, having 
 found it necessary, from special engagements, to decline 
 the acceptance of it. Many will regret this besides myself. 
 
 E. W. 
 
 Glasgow, Nov. 12, 1833. 
 
PKEFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 The proposal of an Edition such as the present, of the 
 entire series of Volumes of the "Congregational Lectures" 
 hitherto published, could not fail to be gratifying to their 
 various Authors, as contributing to extend their circula- 
 tion, and so to augment whatever description of benefit 
 they might, respectively, be fitted to impart. With regard 
 to this fifth edition of the " Christian Ethics," — as it has 
 been deemed, and I think rightly, unnecessary to insert 
 any of the prefaces to the former Editions, except that to 
 the first, I have nothing more to say, than that it is an 
 exact reprint of the fourth. The revision of the press at 
 four hundred miles distance being unavoidably both trou- 
 blesome and an undesirable consumption of time, I judged 
 it better, fastidious as I am about correctness, to leave it 
 in the hands of the Superintending Committee, in whose 
 assurances of care I had the most implicit confidence, — 
 the more especially, that I was otherwise fully occupied, 
 and that there were no material alterations which had 
 occurred to me, as requiring to be made in the contents of 
 the Volumes, either as to sentiment or as to structure. 
 
 One short paragraph from the preface to the fourth 
 edition may here be repeated, on behalf of a particular 
 
Xll PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 department of this and other works, which too often does 
 not receive that portion of the reader's attention to which 
 it is entitled : — 
 
 " There are some readers to whom ' Notes and Illustra- 
 tions ' possess little attraction. They have an impression 
 of their being of less consequence than the body of the 
 work, — appendages, consisting of what the author did not 
 think worthy of a place in the text, but yet was unwilling 
 to leave entirely out, — non-essentials in regard to the main 
 objects of the book, — a kind of odds and ends, which may 
 be looked at or not, as the reader pleases. In this appre- 
 hension, though in some instances it may not be without 
 foundation, they may often find themselves mistaken: — 
 some notes containing discussions closely connected with 
 topics which, in the text, from necessity, have been touched 
 upon with comparative brevity; — and, so far from being in- 
 ferior in importance, being really such as have cost the 
 writer the largest, the closest, and the most laborious ex- 
 penditure of thought. May I take the liberty, with such 
 readers, of recommending the ' Notes and Illustrations ' 
 to their attention ?" 
 
 I have only to commend it anew to the Divine blessing, 
 
 in as far as the views which it advocates are in harmony, 
 
 as it was my desire and aim they should all be, with the 
 
 Divine Mind. 
 
 E. W. 
 
 Easter House, near Glasgow, 
 September 27th, 1852. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The Committee of Management for conducting the deli- 
 very and publication of the Congregational Lectures, are 
 much gratified in being able, at length, to meet the desire 
 so long and earnestly expressed for an edition of those 
 valuable Works, at a price which will place them within the 
 reach of all. They could not have accomplished this, but 
 for the spirit and enterprise of the Publishers. The Com- 
 mittee therefore trust, that the effort now made will be ap- 
 preciated by the Christian public in general, and by the 
 Ministers of the denomination in particular; and, espe- 
 cially, that all will avail themselves, without delay, of the 
 opportunity of possessing the volumes now issued, which 
 are as attractive in their appearance as they are remark- 
 able for their cheapness. The works have undergone 
 the careful revision of their respective Authors, and may 
 be accurately described as an improved edition. 
 
 Thomas James, Secretary. 
 
 Congregational Library, 
 October 1, 1852. 
 
* # * The Committee have much pleasure in announcing 
 that the Kev. Dr. Alliott, of the Western College, Plymouth ; 
 the Eev. J. Stoughton, of Kensington ; and the Kev. Pro- 
 fessor Godwin, of New College, have each engaged to 
 deliver a course of Lectures in continuation of the series. 
 
 The Publishers are gratified in being able to state, 
 that the success which has attended the announcement of a 
 cheap and uniform edition of these valuable works is such as 
 to warrant a continued prosecution of the contemplated design; 
 they hope, therefore, in the course of next year to put to press 
 the second issue of Four Volumes, which will comprise the 
 Lectures of Dr. Redford, Dr. William Lindsay Alexander, 
 the Rev. Walter Scott, and Dr. Richard Winter Hamilton. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 PAGE 
 ON THE RESPECTIVE PROVINCES OF PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY 1 
 
 LECTURE II. 
 
 ON MISTAKES IN THE METHOD OF PURSUING OUR INQUIRIES ON THE 
 SUBJECT OF MORALS J AND ESPECIALLY ON THE ATTEMPT TO DE- 
 DUCE A SCHEME OF VIRTUE FROM THE PRESENT CHARACTER OF 
 HUMAN NATURE 25 
 
 LECTURE III. 
 
 THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED 50 
 
 / 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 
 THE MORAL SYSTEM OF BISHOP BUTLER 82 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 ON THE RULE OF MORAL OBLIGATION U4 
 
 LECTURE VI. 
 
 ON THE ORIGINAL PRINCIPLES OF MORAL OBLIGATION 145 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 
 PAGE 
 ON THE IDENTITY OF MORALITY AND RELIGION 175 
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 
 ON THE QUESTION, HOW FAR DISINTERESTEDNESS IS AN ESSENTIAL 
 
 QUALITY IN LEGITIMATE LOVE TO GOD 203 
 
 LECTURE IX. 
 
 ON THE PECULIARITIES OF CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY 236 
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS 271 
 

 w 
 
 ml 
 
 CHBISTIAN ETHICS. 
 
 LECTUEE I. 
 
 ON THE EESPECTIVE PROVINCES OF PHILOSOPHY AjSD THEOLOGY. 
 
 I ah at a loss, my friends, to determine to which of the 
 two charges I should be most unwilling to expose myself; 
 — whether, on the one hand, to the charge of presump- 
 tion, in having consented to undertake the task assigned 
 me, of delivering the first series of the " Congregational 
 Lecture," — or, on the other, to the charge of affectation, 
 which might attach itself to any apology I might now, 
 however sincerely, attempt to frame for such presumption. 
 I deem it, therefore, preferable to proceed at once, without 
 any apologetic preamble, to the task itself; leaving the 
 merits or demerits of the execution, whatever they may 
 be, to the candid and liberal judgment of my audience. 
 
 The general subject of the proposed series of discourses 
 has already been announced to the public under the title 
 of " Christian Ethics ; or, Moral Philosophy on the prin- 
 ciples of Divine Revelation:" and the first topic in the 
 series, to be discussed in the present lecture, (a lecture 
 which may, in a good degree, be considered as intro- 
 ductory,) is, — " The respective provinces of Philosophy 
 
 I. B 
 
M PROVINCES OF 
 
 and Theology." I take for my text the words of the 
 Apostle Paul — 
 
 " Hatli not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?" — 1 Cor. i. 20. 
 
 Is this the language of a weak enthusiast, depreciating 
 human science, and treating with disdain what he does 
 not himself possess ? Is it the utterance of a vain-glorious 
 pretender, who, in the loftiness of his spiritual empiri- 
 cism, looks down, with a scornful pity, on uninitiated 
 minds ? It is neither. It is the deliberate verdict of one 
 who " speaks forth the words of truth and soberness : " of 
 one who, himself propounding views of Deity, — of his 
 character, his administration, and his will, — incomparably 
 surpassing aught that the unaided wisdom of man had 
 previously produced, had, in this very fact, his divine 
 warrant for the low estimate of that wisdom which, in 
 this passage, he pronounces. The estimate relates to the 
 exercise of the human intellect, not in any of the depart- 
 ments of natural science, but in regard to what this same 
 writer denominates " the things of God ; " and the truth 
 of it is established by an appeal to the experience of all 
 the preceding centuries of the world's history : " For after 
 that, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom knew not 
 God, it pleased God, by the preaching of foolishness,* to 
 save them that believe.'' 
 
 * The words in the original are ambiguous — 3t« -rn<; /iwp/a? rov Ktipuynaros. 
 Our translators have rendered them" by the foolishness of preaching." The 
 difference, as to the sense, is not material. It may, however, he observed, 
 that the foolisbness (in the estimate of men, for that is what the apostle 
 speaks of) did not lie in the preaching, but in the doctrine preached. And to 
 this, accordingly, it is that the term, immediately afterwards, is applied: — 
 •'But we preach Christ araeffied, to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the 
 Greeks foolishness ; but to us who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the 
 power of God, and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser 
 than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men :" — that is, those 
 divine discoveries, contained in the Gospel, which by men were esteemed 
 foolishness, were indeed true wisdom; wisdom infinitely surpassing, in its 
 principles and in its practical efficiency, all the results of human intellect of 
 which philosophers had been accustomed to boast. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 8 
 
 Most assuredly, the sacred writers do not express them- 
 selves in terms of submissive deference to the wise men 
 of this world. If they were inspired, how could they? 
 The incongruity would have been monstrous. It would 
 have been the intellect of the infinite Creator bowing to 
 that of the feeble and fallible creature ! I do not mean to 
 say, that the mere circumstance of their disparaging what 
 those wise men themselves honoured with the designation 
 of *' divine philosophy," is itself to be regarded as an 
 evidence of their inspiration. Far from it : the dis- 
 paragement might have been of such a kind as, instead of 
 furnishing proof of their inspiration, would only have 
 made manifest their self-conceited presumption. It is 
 not, we are all aware, the first nor the thousandth time 
 that ignorance has talked disdainfully of knowledge, and 
 meanly depreciated what it could not attain. Yanity has 
 been the attendant of limited, and humility of enlarged 
 attainments ; the one, the characteristic of a little, the 
 other, of a great mind. While, therefore, deference to the 
 wisdom of men is incompatible with the possession of 
 inspiration, contempt of that wisdom is perfectly com- 
 patible with the want of it. All, in such a case, depends 
 upon the manner. And, surely, with confidence might we 
 put it to the candid judgment of philosophy itself — even 
 notwithstanding its rising indignation at the uncere- 
 monious refusal of its authority — whether, in the style of 
 these writers, there be anything discernible, in the re- 
 motest degree indicative, either of the littleness of elevated 
 vanity, or of the chagrin of mortified envy ; — whether, on 
 the contrary, in its unostentatious simplicity, its calm, 
 dispassionate, dignified, conscious authoritativeness, their 
 whole manner be not in admirable congruity with the 
 hypothesis of their inspiration : whether, that is, on the 
 supposition of their being inspired, they could, in this 
 respect, have written more appropriately than they have 
 actually done. 
 
4 PROVINCES OF 
 
 Still, however, to the wise men of this world, it cannot 
 fail to be offensive, that so little weight should thus he 
 allowed to the decisions of their cherished and adored 
 philosophy; — nay, that its authority should even be 
 entirely set aside, and its oracular voice silenced. And 
 the offence, accordingly, has been taken, and has been 
 shown. The displeasure has been but ill-concealed by 
 the affected contempt. It has been ex cathedra deter- 
 mined, that, if Theology will be thus exclusive, so shall 
 Philosophy. If the latter must in no degree dictate to 
 the former, neither shall the former to the latter. Each 
 shall have its own department : and, if the divine inter- 
 dicts the intrusion of the philosopher, the philosopher, 
 with a jealousy no less peremptory, will prohibit the 
 officious interference of the divine. The latter shall have 
 the same legitimate title to hold as truth the results of 
 his researches and processes of ratiocination, within his 
 own province, as the former has to hold as truth the 
 dictates of his accredited oracles. 
 
 All this might be well enough, and there might, on such 
 principles, be a treaty of mutual forbearance, could the 
 respective provinces be kept entirely distinct. But this is 
 manifestly impracticable. To jyhysical science, it is true, 
 or natural philosophy, (in as far as its province of investi- 
 gation is concerned,) there is but little in common with 
 theology. The departments of the two are more decidedly 
 distinct ; so that there is less danger of their coming into 
 conflicting contact. Not, however, by any means, that 
 they are without connexion. Their connexion is close 
 and interesting. In one branch of theology, — that which 
 is usually designated natural religion, — physical science is 
 a handmaid, whose services are of essential value. The 
 discoveries and demonstrations of the natural philosopher 
 either furnish the evidences, or place them in the clearest 
 and most satisfactory light, from which we ascertain 
 the fundamental article of all religion and morals, the 
 
PHILOSOPHY AXD THEOLOGY. 5 
 
 existence of an intelligent and almighty Creator. In the 
 visible universe, it is true, manifold are the proofs of this 
 great truth, which it requires not the research of profound 
 science to elicit. Were it otherwise, there would be a 
 large proportion of mankind, of whom it could hardly 
 with fairness be affirmed, that their ignorance of the true 
 God was without excuse. But in very many particulars, 
 philosophy throws a clearer and more determinate light 
 upon the argument ; inasmuch as the farther its investiga- 
 tions have extended, and the more rigid the scrutiny 
 which, in these investigations, it has employed, the more 
 demonstrative has the manifestation become of the un- 
 improvable perfection of those works in which the skill 
 of the great Artificer is discovered. — While physical 
 science thus supplies theology with argument, in laying 
 the very foundation of her system, there is another rela- 
 tion between them, often too little regarded, but of great 
 practical value. Besides furnishing and elucidating the 
 evidences of natural religion, it ought to be the business 
 of this philosophy to collect from the whole system of 
 nature materials for devotion. Whatever philosophers 
 themselves may think of it, there is not a more important 
 end which science has it in its power to effect, than thus 
 elevating the soul to its Divine Maker, in the sentiments 
 and emotions of "reverence and godly fear," and of 
 grateful adoration and praise. How deeply is it to be 
 deplored that science and devotion should so frequently 
 have been disunited, and that philosophy, by busying the 
 mind about the works of Deity, should, in so many in- 
 stances, have induced forgetfulness of their Author, and 
 have tended, instead of kindling, to quench the flame of 
 piety ! " One of ourselves, a poet of our own," has said — 
 
 " An undevout astronomer is mad." 
 
 But what is devotion ? We cannot consent that a man 
 shall be regarded as devout, merely because he recognizes 
 
PROVINCES OF 
 
 an almighty and intelligent Agent in the wonders whir]) 
 he discovers and describes. How very often does it 
 happen, that by such minds Dgity is contemplated and 
 introduced (in terms, it may be, of elegant and enthusiastic 
 eulogy) under no other character than that of the first and 
 greatest of artists ; — an artist in whose incomparable skill 
 the philosopher, with a conscious elation, almost feels 
 himself a participant ; inasmuch as he who discovers the 
 secrets of a well-adjusted plan that lie hidden from the 
 vulgar eye, regards himself as standing next in order to 
 the inventor and framer of it ; he who detects and unfolds 
 the beautiful intricacies of an ingenious mechanism, di- 
 viding the palm of ingenuity with its original constructor. 
 Such views of Deity may be entertained, such eulogies of 
 Deity may be pronounced, while there is no complacency 
 in his moral excellencies, — no holy sympathy of heart 
 with the purity of his nature, the righteousness of his 
 government, or the grace of his gospel. And without this 
 there is no true devotion. There is the admiration of the 
 philosopher, but not the piety of the saint. The admira- 
 tion is akin to the emotions of the musical amateur, when 
 he is fixed in ecstasy by the full harmony of an oratorio 
 of Handel : he fancies himself devout ; and yet there is 
 little, if anything, more than unwonted sensibility to the 
 powers of sound — a sensibility which gives itself utter- 
 ance, when the entrancing harmony has died away upon 
 the ear, rather in terms of rapture at the inimitable skill 
 of the composer, than in the adoration of the majesty 
 and grace of Him whom the composition professes to 
 extol. — Amongst philosophical "men there have been, and 
 there are, not a few, eminent exceptions to these remarks ; 
 — men, in whom science has elevated piety, and piety has 
 sanctified science. Our lamentation is, that a coalition so 
 natural and seemly should ever be wanting.* 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note A. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 7 
 
 But it is not with natural philosophy, it is with moral 
 science, that theology chiefly interferes. It is of these 
 two that I have pronounced the provinces inseparable by 
 any definite and mutually exclusive line of demarcation. 
 There can be no boundary drawn for the philosophical 
 moralist, that does not inclose a portion, far from incon- 
 siderable, of the territory of the theologian. Their ground, 
 on many points, is unavoidably common. Their lines of 
 partition, therefore, are not so much determined by the 
 subjects which they respectively embrace, as by their prin- 
 ciples of argumentation, their sources of evidence, and the 
 authorities to which each appeals and pays deference. The 
 theologian . exhibits the proofs of divine revelation; and, 
 having established its authority, settles all questions in 
 religion and morals by a direct appeal to its sacred les- 
 sons : — the philosopher carries on his own researches in 
 his own way, in the spirit of independence of all such 
 authority, and arrives at his own conclusions. — If, as may 
 not unfrequently happen, the doctrines of the one and the 
 decisions of the other are at variance, and that, not by a 
 shade of difference merely, but, by direct contrariety, there 
 is no help for it : — each must be regarded as right on his 
 own principles and within his appropriate sphere. 
 
 Can anything be imagined more unfortunate than this 
 position of parties for the interests of truth ? — as if a thing- 
 could be true on one ground and false on another ! — true, 
 when tried by this set of principles, and false when tried 
 by that ! — theologically right and philosophically wrong, 
 — or theologically wrong and philosophically right ! The 
 philosopher, we shall suppose, works out the establish- 
 ment of some favourite point by his own process of meta- 
 physical reasoning ; the divine, by an appeal to his appro- 
 priate authorities and sources of evidence, arrives at an 
 opposite result : that is not the sage's concern ; it pertains 
 to another department, — to a different chair, — with which 
 he has nothing to do, and from which, as he does not 
 
S PROVINCES OF 
 
 presume to interfere on his part, be reasonably looks for a 
 reciprocity of non-interference on tbe part of its occupant. 
 The conclusion to which he has himself come, may, for 
 aught he knows, be bad divinity ; but he is confident it is 
 sound philosophy : and this is all that it concerns him to 
 mind. 
 
 Now, in the name of common sense, what ought to be 
 the sole inquiry with every man who takes to himself, or 
 who deserves from others, the designation of a philo- 
 sopher? Should not the exclusive question be, — and 
 should not the answer to it be sought with equal sim- 
 plicity and earnestness of purpose, — what is truth ? 
 What other object can there be, of aught that is entitled 
 to be called philosophy, but the discovery of truth ? Of 
 what conceivable use or value are all the investigations 
 and reasonings of philosophy, if not for the ascertaining 
 of truth ? And, in order to arrive at truth, is it not the 
 proper business and the imperative duty of the philosopher 
 to leave no quarter unexplored where evidence of any de- 
 scription can be found ; nothing whatsoever unexamined 
 that promises to throw even a single ray of light on the 
 subject of his inquiry, one solitary beam on his path that may 
 contribute to guide him to a right result ? Can anything 
 be more irrational, more unworthy of a mind that is really 
 honest and in earnest in its desires after truth, than for him 
 who professes to be in pursuit of it to allege, respecting any 
 source of information or department of evidence, that he 
 has nothing to do with it ? No man of sound principle 
 and enlightened judgment will ever sit down satisfied with 
 a conclusion which he knows to have been formed on a 
 partial investigation, or so long as there remains unex- 
 amined any accessible quarter whence such information or 
 proof may be derived as may possibly shake its stability — 
 nay, for aught he knows, may even demonstrate its fallacy, 
 and constrain its rejection. Every thing, without excep- 
 tion, should be regarded as pertaining to the province of 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 9 
 
 the genuine philosopher that holds out any promise of 
 conducting him to truth. This should be the ultima Tlude 
 of all his voyages of discovery : — and like a skilful navi- 
 gator, he will make use of every species of intelligence 
 that can enable him to chart out his course, so as to reach 
 it with the greatest safety, directness, and speed. If he 
 misses it in one point of the compass, he will try another, 
 availing himself of every wind and of every current that 
 may bear hirn to his wished-for destination. 
 
 The application of these general principles will be 
 already apparent. In the Bible, we possess a document, 
 by whose contents a great variety both of facts and sen- 
 timents are materially affected. It professes to be of the 
 remotest antiquity, and of the very highest authority. 
 Suppose, then, that, by his own process of argumentation, 
 a philosopher has arrived at a particular conclusion re- 
 specting the truth or falsehood of some fact or opinion. 
 You say to him — " I find something very different from 
 your conclusion in the statements of this book." He 
 answers, with all imaginable coolness, — " It may be so ; 
 that does not come within my legitimate range ; it belongs 
 to the province of the divine. It is his business, the best 
 way he can, to make out the consistency of the statements 
 of the Bible with the decisions of philosojmy. If there be 
 a discrepancy, it is unfortunate; but I cannot help it; — 
 the harmonizing of the two lies not with me, but with 
 him." But why so ? What good reason is there, why the 
 onus of finding a principle of reconciliation should be made 
 to rest entirely on the theologian ? We cannot consent to 
 this. We cannot quiescently permit philosophy to assume 
 so lofty a bearing ; to take her own decisions for granted, 
 and, with the port and tone of a self-sufficient supercilious- 
 ness, leave the divine to make what he can of their con- 
 sistency with his Bible. We cannot allow the authority 
 of this document to be thus unceremoniously left out of 
 the account. We insist upon it, that, on every point 
 
10 PROVINCES OF 
 
 respecting which it delivers a testimony, the proofs of its 
 authority, or of its want of authority, are amongst the 
 evidences, on that point, which every lover of truth — that 
 is, every true philosopher — should feel himself under im- 
 perative obligation carefully to examine. As the philosophy 
 is of no sterling worth, that conducts not to truth ; if the 
 authority of the document can be established, and the 
 verity of its statements consequently ascertained, then it 
 becomes, on all matters of which it treats, the only phi- 
 losophy; unless we are determined to dignify with the 
 honourable appellation a system of falsehood. If any man 
 is prepared to avow, that he would prefer falsehood as the 
 result of one process of inquiry, to truth when ascertained 
 by another, — that man may consistently leave out of his 
 investigation the evidences on which the claims of this 
 document rest. But should we call such a man a phi- 
 losopher ? It were a miserable misnomer ; inasmuch as 
 no procedure could be more thoroughly unphilosophical, 
 than to refuse any light, be it what it may, that promises 
 to conduct to what is the sole end of all rational inquiry. 
 
 Allow me to illustrate my meaning by a case 'or two, in 
 the way of exemplification. They are not at all connected 
 with our present subject, but merely explanatory of the 
 principle, which it is my aim to establish. I purposely 
 indeed select my illustrative examples from departments 
 unconnected with the one under discussion, that I may at 
 once avoid anticipation, and keep myself clear of any charge 
 of prejudging the question. They shall be cases that relate 
 not to doctrine but to fact. 
 
 It has been a subject of controversy, whether, as is 
 usually supposed, the race of mankind in all its varieties, 
 had a common origin ; — whether, that is, all these varieties 
 sprung from the same first pair. — Suppose, then, that, on 
 an extensive survey, and a minute inspection of the various 
 tribes of men on the surface of the globe, there are found 
 appearances both for and against the ordinary belief of a 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 11 
 
 common original stock. Suppose, if you will, the appear- 
 ances on the two sides of the hypothesis to be even nearly 
 on a balance, and to leave some little room for hesitation 
 and scepticism. In this posture of the case, here is a 
 document, which, in the most explicit terms, affirms the 
 common origin ; and which proceeds throughout, upon 
 the assumption of God's having " made of one blood all 
 nations of men to dwell on the face of the whole earth." 
 Without intending, in the least degree, to lay any inter- 
 dict on philosophical investigation, to put a stop to the 
 continued collection and comparison of facts, and the free 
 and unembarrassed discussion of whatever these facts may 
 seem to indicate, — my simple affirmation is, that the au- 
 thority of this document is fairly entitled to be examined 
 upon the question : — nay, more, — that it is not only so 
 entitled, but that the man who professes to be actuated 
 by a sincere desire to ascertain the truth, does not act 
 consistently with his professions, so long as he either 
 refuses or neglects such examination. I am not now 
 assuming the authority of the document, and attempting 
 to silence philosophy by an appeal to divine testimony : 
 all I contend for is, that its claims to authority be fairly 
 investigated ; that the competency or incompetency of the 
 witness be ascertained ; that his pretensions be not set 
 aside without inquiry. He may, on the one hand, be found 
 unworthy of confidence ; or, on the other, his deposition 
 may be so attested as to render it creditable, material, and 
 even decisive. But, whichsoever of these may be the 
 result, the question at issue has not, we affirm, been fully, 
 impartially, and in the true spirit of philosophy, invest- 
 igated, if the pretensions of the witness be not candidly 
 inquired into, and the credit due to his testimony correctly 
 appreciated : — and, on this principle, the entire evidence, 
 in all its variety, of the genuineness, the authenticity, and 
 the divine inspiration of this document, does come, not 
 legitimately only, but imperatively and indispensably, 
 
12 PROVINCES OF 
 
 within the range of investigation belonging to this ques- 
 tion ; — there being nothing more pregnant with folly, than 
 summarily to discard, without a deliberate and rigid exa- 
 mination of his character and credentials, any guide, who 
 promises to lead our steps to the oracle, where doubts may 
 be settled, and truth satisfactorily learned 
 
 The same principles might be further illustrated, from 
 the case of the general Deluge. Various conflicting theories 
 have been framed, respecting the cause or causes of par- 
 ticular appearances which present themselves to scientific 
 inquirers, on and under the surface of our globe : one 
 geologist demonstrating that these appearances cannot be 
 accounted for on any other hypothesis than that of the 
 earth, at some remote period, having been subjected to a 
 catastrophe of this description ; while a second, pro- 
 nouncing such a cause totally incompetent to explain the 
 phenomena, has recourse to others, real or conjectural, 
 which, in his estimation, are both more appropriate, and 
 more adequate. In these circumstances, here is an 
 ancient document, in which the awful event is recorded, 
 and its more awful cause is assigned. Is no heed to be 
 given to the claims of such a record ? Suppose scientific 
 investigation to leave the case undecided — - adhuc sub 
 jiidice; — is that man entitled to the character of a lover of 
 truth, who will be satisfied to let it remain in this unde- 
 termined state, rather than even examine the evidence on 
 which the authority of this document rests ? I presume 
 there can be but one answer to this question, unless phi- 
 losophy is prepared to disown the love of truth as a prin- 
 ciple of her character. 
 
 I may frame these statements more generally : and, in 
 their general form, without any abatement of decision. — 
 With every person of sound wisdom, the very first of all 
 inquiries ought, without controversy, to be, Have we, or 
 have we not, in the book called the Holy Scriptures, a 
 revelation from God ? This is an inquiry which no sane 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 13 
 
 man can treat with lightness ; nor can we allow any man 
 to deserve the designation of a philosopher, who has not 
 bent the entire energies of his mind to its investigation 
 and settlement ; sifting out every atom of proof, — adjust- 
 ing the balance with impartial accuracy, and giving to 
 every argument its legitimate weight. I know that there 
 are some self-styled philosophers, who will receive such 
 an assertion as the one I am about to make with a sneer 
 of ineffable scorn ; — but I shrink not, on that account, 
 from making it, confident as I am that, even in their 
 minds, the disdain is either the offspring of an ignorant 
 vanity, or is not in harmony with the secret dictates of 
 their sober judgment; my deliberate assertion is, — that 
 there is no one inquiry whatsoever, which ought to take prece- 
 dence of this, or to be prosecuted with anything like an equal 
 solicitude for a true result. Nothing can well be more in- 
 sensate, than for a man to be spending his time, and 
 taxing to the uttermost his intellectual resources, and 
 exhausting his mental energies, in exploring, and reason- 
 ing, and laboriously searching for truth, — "feeling after 
 it, if haply he may find it," — and in the end arriving at 
 no certainty, but only landing himself in the dim and 
 dubious twilight of distressing conjecture ; when, by first 
 ascertaining, from a due examination of his credentials, 
 the trust-worthiness and capacity of an offered guide, he 
 may be conducted at once to his object, and enjoy the 
 clear sunshine of intelligent and settled conviction. — In all 
 that I have thus said, I have spoken of what ought to be. 
 I am not unaware, nor unmindful, of the prejudice and 
 bias that exists in every mind against the actual discove- 
 ries of revelation ; — but I can say no more at present, than 
 that all such bias and prejudice is wrong, and has in it not 
 merely the spirit of folly, but the essential element of 
 moral pravity. 
 
 I have hitherto spoken hypothetically. Allow me now 
 to assume the divine authority of the Bible, as having been 
 
1-i PROVINCES OF 
 
 established by satisfactory evidence. The next question 
 is, — What, on this assumption, becomes our duty? And 
 to this question is there another answer than one, which, 
 by any sound and sober mind, can be returned? On the 
 principles of common sense and of true science, who can 
 hesitate ? The supposition is, that the divine authority of 
 the record has been satisfactorily ascertained : — what 
 inquiry, then, can possibly remain, but the inquiry, "What 
 saith the Scripture ? " — what are the lessons which the 
 record teaches ? I am aware, that the nature of its lessons 
 comes, to a certain extent, amongst the previous proofs for 
 or against its authority ; but I am not now considering the 
 process of argument by which the point of authority has 
 been settled ; I am proceeding on the assumption, that, 
 by a harmony of external, internal, and experimental 
 evidence, that point has been brought to a satisfactory 
 decision. The sole object of investigation comes then to 
 be, — the meaning of the language in which the intimations 
 of the Divine Oracles are conveyed. It must come to this. 
 The questioning of any of their discoveries, as contrary to 
 reason, and inconsistent with otherwise ascertained prin- 
 ciples of truth, is then out of place. It ought to have been 
 introduced in the investigation of evidence. The present 
 assumption is, that such investigation is over, and has 
 terminated in the decision that the book is divine. In 
 these circumstances, we must take high ground in behalf 
 of revelation. Philosophy and theology stand, in this 
 respect, on a widely different footing. The philosopher, 
 as I have already said, having arrived at his conclusion, 
 would, with all possible sang-froid, leave it to the theolo- 
 gian to reconcile that conclusion with the dictates of his 
 Bible. But, on the supposition of this Bible having been 
 ascertained to be from God, — 
 
 " The sempiternal source of truth divine," 
 
 we must not only modify but precisely reverse this posi- 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 1 5 
 
 tion ; unless we would exalt the wisdom of the creature 
 above that of the Creator. So far from its belonging to 
 the divine, to harmonize the discoveries of this inspired 
 document with the dogmata of the philosopher, it is in- 
 cumbent on the philosopher, unless he can fairly meet 
 and set aside the proofs of its inspiration, to bring his 
 dogmata to the test of the document. What the divine 
 has to do, — and this we admit to be incumbent upon him, 
 — is, to make good the authority of his standard ; and, 
 having established this, to elicit with clearness its deci- 
 sions. To insist upon its being his province to reconcile 
 these decisions with the contrary decisions (if such there 
 be) of the philosopher, would be to assert the superior 
 decisiveness of philosophical conclusions to that of divine 
 intimations. We should be unfaithful to our God, and 
 throw a disparaging insult on His name, were we thus to 
 consent that the wisdom of "the only wise" should make 
 its obeisance to the chair of human science ; — or were we 
 to admit that he has left his word with less conclusive 
 evidence in its behalf, than that by which the wise men 
 of this world can vindicate the dictates of their own 
 sagacity.* 
 
 Philosophical divines, it is to be feared, have at times 
 contributed not a little to this letting down of divine reve- 
 lation from its sacred pre-eminence, as the Dictator of 
 truth. Their predilection for metaphysical speculations 
 has occasionally appeared to gain the ascendency over the 
 simplicity of their faith in the uncompromising declara- 
 tions of the "lively oracles." To save the credit of their 
 favourite science, they have been tempted to blend its 
 theories with their theological system, modifying the 
 latter by the former, and accommodating the former to 
 the latter, in such a manner, that the principles of the 
 Gospel have been robbed of their divine simplicity, and 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note B. 
 
1G PROVINCES OF 
 
 have been so moulded into philosophical forms of state- 
 ment, as hardly to be recognizable by those who have 
 studied them only in the writings of, the Apostles and 
 Prophets. The warp and the woof of divine and human 
 have thus been woven into a tissue of incongruous and 
 anomalous texture. A solicitude has been discovered, to 
 reconcile divine truths with philosophical principles, which 
 has gone to such an extreme, as to leave it a matter of 
 uncertainty, whether the philosophy or the divinity holds 
 the surest place in the writer's convictions ; — which of the 
 two he intends to be regarded as the test of the other. 
 This amalgamation of philosophy and theology has, from 
 the beginning, been a copious source of error. In depre- 
 cating, on the principles which have been stated, the 
 divorce between the two, I would not be understood as 
 pleading for the incorporation of the dictates of the 
 former with the divinely simple and authoritative discove- 
 ries of the latter. These discoveries must be received as 
 they stand, or let alone. There must be a child-like sub- 
 mission of the mind to divine teaching. We must "become 
 fools that we may be wise." 
 
 It must, I repeat, come to this — But than this there is 
 nothing more galling to the spirit of that " science falsely 
 so called," which, in modern as in ancient times, has 
 usurped the exclusive designation of Philosophy. Implicit 
 faith, to borrow the terms of the poet on another subject, 
 
 " is its perfect scorn, 
 
 Object of its implacable disgust." 
 
 — It puts to flight so many of its lofty and independent 
 speculations ; bringing down the wise man of this world 
 from the proud eminence of mental self-sufficiency, and 
 placing him, as a mere learner, a listener, and an asker of 
 questions, at the feet of Prophets and Apostles ; — setting 
 him to school, with his grammar and his dictionary, to 
 find out what it is that these men say, and, in every point 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. ] 7 
 
 of which they treat, to bow without gainsaying to their 
 authoritative decisions. This will never do. It stirs the 
 blood of intellectual pride. It frets and chafes the haughty 
 spirit of independent reason. Let weak narrow-minded 
 bigots submit, in all their littleness of soul, to be thus 
 schooled and dictated to : his must be a course of un- 
 daunted freedom of thought, — of an unfettered and excur- 
 sive independence of intellect. 
 
 Yet surely no axioms can have more in them of self- 
 evidential truth, than the positions, that, if the Bible be 
 the word of God, it must be true ; — and that, if true, it 
 must, on the subjects of which it treats, and on which it 
 delivers its divine lessons, be philosophy, and the only 
 philosophy. There must be some other aim than truth in 
 that man's view, who, on whatever subject, would lay under 
 interdict and proscription any branch of evidence : — and 
 when, at any time, our appeal to the Holy Scriptures is 
 answered with an indignant scowl, as if by such appeal we 
 were fastening fetters upon thought, and imposing silence 
 on the tongue ; — as if we were laying the ports of science 
 under blockade, and affixing the stigma and the peril of 
 piracy to scientific adventure ; — we answer, No : we only 
 say, and we say it with all confidence, — that philosophy 
 acts unworthily of her own character and pretensions, if 
 the claims of such a document are unexamined, and, with- 
 out examination, refused admission in evidence ; — we only 
 insist upon it, that, in the commerce of truth, this port be 
 kept free of embargo as well as all the rest; and, more- 
 over, that, on the supposition of its having been ascertained 
 that certain descriptions of the precious article of which 
 we are in quest can be obtained genuine from this port 
 alone, then does it become a preposterous expenditure of 
 time and toil, and a worse than unprofitable outlay of our 
 intellectual resources, to be fitting out expeditions, and 
 undertaking distant voyages, to regions from which w T e can 
 bring back no cargo but what is spurious or adulterated. 
 t. o 
 
18 PROVINCES OF 
 
 There is occasionally to be found, amongst our philoso- 
 phers, a species of respect for the Scriptures, that is, per- 
 haps, more injurious in its tendencies, especially to the 
 youthful mind, than a direct and open denial of their au- 
 thority. While spoken of with verbal courtesy and all due 
 deference, they are still subjected to the reasonings of men ; 
 and at times, by a miserable perversion of their words, the 
 inspired penmen are even represented as subjecting them- 
 selves to such reasonings, recommending their doctrines 
 to the revision of human wisdom, and, so far from de- 
 manding, even disowning implicit submission. li I speak 
 as to wise men, judge ye what I say," is insidiously inter- 
 preted as a disclaimer of ultimate authority, as leaving 
 every thing which the writer dictates to be received or not, 
 according as it does or does not coincide with the reader's 
 own judgment. Insinuations are thrown out, — of which 
 the influence is the more dangerous from their having the 
 aspect of general truths, and from their being in harmony 
 with the tendencies of corrupt nature, — that in none of our 
 investigations should we allow our minds to be trammelled 
 by prepossessions, and restrained from that freedom of 
 inquiry which is every man's inalienable birthright, and of 
 which the due appreciation and the fearless use are the 
 peculiar glory of philosophy. Hints are suggested, that, 
 in our interpretations of Scripture, we may possibly be 
 mistaken ; there being, in many parts of the book, not a 
 little obscurity : — that there may, after all, be some prin- 
 ciple of harmony between what it testifies, or seems to 
 testify, and the decisions of philosophy : — but, at all events, 
 such appear to be the conclusions to which sound and un- 
 prejudiced reason conducts us ; and there is nothing for 
 it, but to leave them to the considerate candour of the 
 reader's or hearer's own mind. Philosophy, in this way, 
 still keeps the precedence ; and with all possible polite- 
 ness, and every assurance of the most profound respect, 
 the Apostles and Prophets are bowed to the door. Now, 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 19 
 
 in some respects, it would be better, were they uncere- 
 moniously hooted off the stage, than thus dismissed with 
 the simulation of courtesy. It would be more honest, and 
 it would be less pernicious. The assurances of respect 
 serve no other purpose, than to lessen the shock given to 
 the principles and feelings of those who have previously 
 been accustomed to defer to their authority ; and, by this 
 means, they tend to open access for the easier admission 
 of error. The sacred writers are found to stand inconve- 
 niently in the way. It would be rude to beard them, and to 
 set them at avowed defiance. The happy art is, to slip the 
 pupil cautiously and gently past them, without any appear- 
 ance of assault or contumely, and so as that he himself 
 shall hardly be aware of the passage that has been made 
 for him. 
 
 I may be allowed here to observe, how deeply it is to be 
 deplored, that the philosophy which issues from certain 
 chairs of our schools of learning should be thus, in its 
 spirit and in many of its principles, unbaptized and co- 
 vertly anti-Christian. I mention it the rather, for the sake 
 of impressing, on parents and guardians of youth, the vast 
 importance to a young man, previously to his attendance 
 on a course of such prelections, of his being thoroughly 
 established in the enlightened conviction of the paramount 
 authority of revelation ; so that he may not hold this con- 
 viction as the mere result of educational prejudice, but as 
 the effect of as extensive and intelligent an acquaintance 
 as possible with its contents, and with the harmonious de- 
 pendencies of all the parts of its system of truth, of a care- 
 ful study of its evidences, and, above all, of a heartfelt 
 experience of its renewing power. If he comes under 
 such tuition as I have been describing, with nothing in his 
 mind, in behalf of the Bible, beyond a youthful preposses- 
 sion, he runs an imminent risk. His mind will soon be 
 bewildered. At the first suggestion of any speculation, 
 which seems at variance with what he has been accus- 
 
20 PROVINCES OF 
 
 tomed to revere as the testimony of God, his heart may 
 beat thick with a distressful trepidation. But he gets over 
 the first agitation. He becomes, by degress, enamoured 
 of the theories that are brought before him. The views 
 are novel ; the arguments in their support are unantici- 
 pated and plausible. The opinions and speculations are 
 captivating to the ardour of youthful fancy, and alluring to 
 the spirit of inquisitive curiosity and independent think- 
 ing. Doubts arise and multiply. A spirit of speculative 
 scepticism is generated, and gradually gains the ascendant. 
 Early notions and impressions are discarded, as unfounded 
 prejudices ; and the Bible is either thrown aside as a 
 volume of " old wives' fables ; " or a heterogeneous com- 
 pound of philosophical and theological opinions, ill-as- 
 sorted and mutually contradictory, becomes — I can hardly 
 say, the creed, for opinion is not faith, and things incon- 
 sistent and contrary cannot both be believed, — but the un- 
 settled, confused, and fluctuating system of thought ; as to 
 the various points of which, the listless or unhappy sceptic 
 satisfies, or tries to satisfy himself, with the trite and puerile 
 reflection, that "much may be said on both sides." 
 
 By some of my hearers I may be thought to have drawn 
 this picture strongly. Yet I am not aware of having, in 
 any of its shades, overlaid the colouring, or of having 
 delineated any one of its features in caricature. It is 
 more than my fear, it is my conviction and my knowledge, 
 that, with little if any softening, the portrait has had its 
 prototype in fact. And I confess, that, along with the 
 general importance and interesting nature of the discus- 
 sions themselves, this consideration has contributed not a 
 little to settle my choice of a subject for the proposed 
 series of lectures.* 
 
 There cannot, certainly, be any subject higher in im- 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note C. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 2 I 
 
 portance, or deeper in interest, than that of Morals. It 
 comprehends in it all the obligations, not of human beings 
 alone, but of intelligent creatures universally, in all the 
 relations they can occupy, whether to their Maker, or to 
 each other; together with the great original principles, so 
 far as they can be ascertained, from which these obliga- 
 tions arise. Such is the enlarged acceptation in which I 
 would be understood as employing the term in those dis- 
 cussions, on which, with all diffidence, I am about to 
 enter. It is my design, to treat of morals in the light of 
 revelation, and to bring to the test of its principles, some 
 of the leading philosophical theories of ancient and 
 modern times. I do not mean that I am to confine 
 myself to the simple statements of the Holy Scriptures ; 
 but only, that I would take those statements as "the light 
 of my feet and the lamp of my path," in prosecuting every 
 inquiry that goes at all beyond their range. I would lay 
 it down, with all the certainty of an axiomatic principle, 
 that divine revelation and true philosophy can never be 
 really at variance ; that it is only false philosophy that 
 fears revelation, or that revelation needs to fear. Truth 
 is one. There have been those, in the history of the 
 Christian church, who have waged the most desperate war 
 against philosophy, as " the mortal enemy of religion." 
 Such, for example, was Daniel Hoffman, in the end of the 
 sixteenth century, professor of divinity at Helmstadt, 
 whom Mosheim represents as maintaining, in the vehe- 
 mence of his enmity, the singularly absurd position, "that 
 truth was divisible into two branches, the one philoso- 
 phical and the other theological ; and that what was true 
 in philosophy was false in theology."" I need say no 
 more of such a statement than has been already said. 
 But, while we smile at its egregious folly, let us not forget 
 to consider, in mitigation of our scorn, the nature of that 
 
 * Mosheim, Vol. IV. p. 302. 
 
22 PROVINCES OF 
 
 multiform unci incomprehensible jargon which then passed 
 under the denomination of philosophy, and the serious 
 injury to the cause of divine truth which had arisen from 
 the intermixture with its sublimely simple discoveries of 
 the crude conjectures and mystical speculations of the 
 schools. When we think of the adulteration, the debase- 
 ment, the almost extinction of Christianity, whose simple 
 elements were overwhelmed amongst the accumulated 
 rubbish of scholastic science — ''science, falsely so called" 
 — it will not be matter to us of great surprise, that, in 
 their zeal for purifying religion, some of the reformers 
 themselves should have fallen into the extreme of pro- 
 scribing and discarding philosophy altogether. We ought 
 to recollect, in their behalf, how, in course of time, terms 
 come to change their import. Philosophy then was 
 something very diverse from philosophy now. Since the 
 domination of the Stagyrite was overthrown, and the 
 mystic oracles of the schoolmen, the darkening comment- 
 ators of Aristotle, were silenced ; since Bacon introduced 
 the true principles of scientific investigation ; the name of 
 philosophy has been retained, but the thing designated by 
 it has undergone an essential change.* Whether it be 
 the philosophy of mind, or of matter, it now proceeds 
 upon facts, as its only admissible data; and with the 
 existing facts it is impossible that divine revelation should 
 ever be at variance. In the procedure of philosophers, 
 there may not, on all occasions, be a duly consistent 
 adherence to the inductive principle ; but however it may 
 be departed from in practice, it is by all adopted in pro- 
 fession. He who would not be satisfied by the passing 
 breath of inconsiderate applause, but would 'enjoy, among 
 men of sense and reflection, solid and lasting reputation 
 for true science, must neither spin out into theories the 
 materials furnished by his own fancy, nor even, however 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note D. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 23 
 
 ingeniously, frame structures of principles, and then set 
 out in quest of facts to support them. To the lover of 
 truth, even the most ingenious conjectures will be the 
 suggestion of previously noticed or recorded facts ; and he 
 will immediately reject them, if they are unsupported by 
 subsequent observations and experiments. It had been 
 well if, in certain questions closely connected with the 
 subject of these lectures, — questions relative especially to 
 the present character of human nature, — there had been 
 less of plausible and often (it must be admitted) beautiful 
 theorising, and a more rigid observance of the inductive 
 principle. Eevelation would have nothing to fear from 
 such a process, but everything to hope. There would be 
 found a correspondence between its statements and a 
 larger induction of facts than can be brought to bear upon 
 any other point whatever, in the whole range of natural 
 and moral science ; an induction, embracing a wider 
 field of experiment, extending through a longer period of 
 time, and yielding a more invariably uniform result. I 
 am aware, indeed, that the very principles of evil existing 
 in human nature in its present state, prevent many from 
 admitting the conclusion to which this induction leads, 
 and which is in harmony with the representations of the 
 sacred volume. I refer to the natural alienation of the 
 heart of man from God, as constituting the essential 
 element of his moral corruption. It has long been my 
 painful conviction, that many of our theories of morals 
 have been sadly vitiated, not merely in the way of defect, 
 but even of radical and mischievous error, by the non- 
 admission, or by the absence of all due consideration, of 
 the real character of our nature, as estranged in its affec- 
 tions from the government of God, and so in a state of 
 moral depravity. I avow it to be one of my principal 
 designs, to call to this subject the attention of my fellow- 
 Christians. However unsatisfactory may be my own brief 
 consideration of it, I shall be happy if the principles that 
 
C4 PROVINCES OF PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 
 
 may be laid down shall be followed out more at large by 
 some other and abler mind. 
 
 To say more at present, would necessarily be to anti- 
 cipate the ground to be occupied in future lectures. The 
 next in order will have for its object, the exposure of 
 certain mistakes in pursuing our inquiries on the subject 
 of morals ; and especially, the attempt to deduce a scheme 
 of virtue from the present character of human nature ; 
 and in it, and the one that shall succeed it, the principles 
 laid down will be illustrated by brief comments on various 
 moral systems. 
 
LECTUEE II. 
 
 ON MISTAKES IN THE METHOD OF PURSUING OUR INQUIRIES ON 
 THE SUBJECT OF MORALS ; AND ESPECIALLY ON THE ATTEMPT 
 TO DEDUCE A SCHEME OF VIRTUE FROM THE PRESENT CHA- 
 RACTER OF HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 " Science falsely so called."— 1 Tim. vi. 20. 
 
 I shall enter at present into no inquiry what was the 
 particular description of " science," or knowledge, which 
 the Apostle meant to characterize by these words. What- 
 ever it was, — whether the vaunted illumination of Jewish 
 doctors, or the fanciful theories of Gentile philosophers, — 
 all may be justly comprehended under the designation, 
 that proceeds upon false principles, and, by necessary con- 
 sequence, conducts to false conclusions. In all science 
 whatever, the entire value of it depends upon the adoption 
 of right principles : — and to no one of its departments does 
 the remark more truly or forcibly apply, than to that of 
 morals. Here, right principles are every thing. There 
 is nothing, in actions themselves, that can be called moral 
 or immoral, considered abstractedly from the principles of 
 the agent. A moral action is the action of a moral agent ; 
 and the moral character of the action depends on the state 
 of the agent's mind in the doing of it. An action may be 
 contemplated in its merely physical properties, abstractedly 
 from this altogether; and, along with its physical pro- 
 perties, the consequences too may be considered to which it 
 
26 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 gives rise. It is obvious, however, that neither the one nor 
 the other of these constitutes at all its moral goodness or 
 delinquency. As the action of a particular agent, the good 
 or the evil of it must be sought in the mind from which it 
 has proceeded, — in the motive or principle there, by which 
 it has been suggested and influenced ; — the amount of 
 moral good or of moral evil in the action being neither 
 more nor less than the amount of good or evil principle 
 that has been in exercise in the performance of it. 
 
 What is thus true of individual actions, or courses of 
 conduct, may with equal truth be predicated of systems of 
 morality. A system must be right or wrong, according as 
 the principles are right or wrong on which it rests, or into 
 which it ultimately resolves itself. An error in these must 
 affect the whole. All the diverging streams will have the 
 taint, sweet or bitter, of the fountain. The entire super- 
 structure will correspond, in stability or in frailty, to the 
 soundness or the erroneousness of the primary elements 
 which constitute its foundation. And, the present being 
 a subject in which theory never can be purely and ab- 
 stractly speculative, but must, to a greater or less degree, 
 in as far as the minds of moral agents are concerned, affect 
 the correctness of their feelings of responsibility, our in- 
 quiries into principles are not mere intellectual exercita- 
 tions, with no other result than the gratification of a meta- 
 physical curiosity ; — they have a direct and important bear- 
 ing on the characters of accountable beings, and conse- 
 quently on their ultimate and everlasting destinies. Under 
 these impressions, we proceed to our subject. 
 
 And I enter upon it with the statement of a distinction, 
 which is a sufficiently obvious one, but not on that account 
 the less deserving of attention, — the distinction between 
 the principle or foundation of moral virtue, and the rule or 
 standard of its requirements. Without at present making 
 any affirmation respecting either the one or the other, — 
 without being so unreasonable as thus, at the very outset, 
 
OF MOEAL SYSTEMS. 27 
 
 to take aught for granted in answer to the questions, What 
 is the principle ? and What is the rule ? I merely state the 
 theoretical distinction. It is one which admits of a very 
 simple and satisfactory illustration from what has place 
 under human governments. A law appears in the statute- 
 book, or the recorded enactments, of a particular country, 
 requiring or prohibiting some specified act. This law, 
 then, is the rule, by which, in the matter affected by it, the 
 conduct of the inhabitants of the country, and subjects of 
 its government, must of course be regulated. We shall 
 suppose the law a prohibitory one, — simply affixing a 
 definite penalty to a definite deed, — without assigning 
 any reason for the prohibition. But, although no reason 
 appears on the statute-book, it does not follow that no 
 reason existed in the minds of those legislators by whom 
 the enactment was introduced. Here then we have the 
 rule, and the principle of the ride. Whatever it w r as, by 
 which the original framers of the law were induced to 
 enact it, — that was the principle ; by which is here meant, 
 the consideration, on account or for the sake of which the 
 law w r as enacted — or that which, in the minds of the 
 enactors, constituted it right : — while the law itself, in its 
 simple terms of prohibition, independently of the reason 
 or principle of it, is the rule of conduct to the subject. In 
 ten thousand cases, the subject may know nothing beyond 
 the rule itself. He finds the law existing ; and, without 
 further inquiry, without troubling himself with any in- 
 vestigation of the principle, — with any attempt to discover 
 the grounds of its original enactment, — he regulates his 
 conduct accordingly. In some minds, however, there may 
 preside a more inquisitive disposition. Though living, 
 like other good subjects, in obedience to the law, they may 
 not be satisfied with the mere knowledge of its existence. 
 They may be desirous to trace it to its origin, — to ascer- 
 tain its reason, — to find a satisfactory reply, not merely to 
 the question, What is the law ? but to the further question, 
 
28 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 Why is the law what it is ? The answer to the first inquiry 
 determines the rule, — the answer to the second the prin- 
 ciple of the rule. The distinction is thus sufficiently 
 intelligible, between the simple rule or standard of duty, 
 and the reason why this rule or standard is what it is, and 
 not something different or something opposite. I do not 
 apply this distinction at present ; but, having stated it, 
 keep it in reserve for future use. 
 
 To show you, in part at least, my reason for enlarging, 
 as I have done, on the hazard arising, in questions of 
 morals, from the theories of human philosophy, I now 
 come at once to the point which I have had principally in 
 view, and to which I alluded in the close of the former 
 lecture. It is this, — that in by much the larger proportion 
 of these theories there is an entire, or almost entire, over- 
 looking of a fundamental article in the statements of fact 
 and of doctrine contained in divine revelation, relative to 
 the character and condition of man as a subject of God's 
 moral government : — I refer to the innate depravity of 
 human nature. It has long been my conviction, — a convic- 
 tion which has been progressively confirmed by observa- 
 tion and reflection, — that a large proportion of theological 
 errors, — of heretical departures from evangelical truth, — 
 may be traced to mistaken or defective views of this great 
 point. It is reasonable to expect that it should be so. 
 The point is obviously and essentially fundamental ; so 
 that any material error respecting it cannot fail to affect 
 the entire system of a man's opinions on divine subjects ; 
 and especially, in regard to that which it is the grand 
 design of revelation to make known, — the scheme of the 
 Redeemer's mediation. Of that scheme man is the object ; 
 and therefore our views of its nature, provisions, and ends, 
 must of necessity be essentially modified by the concep- 
 tions we entertain of his actual character and condition. 
 To these the scheme must of course be adapted ; and an 
 erroneous estimate of the disorder to be remedied will 
 
OF MOKAL SYSTEMS. 29 
 
 unavoidably produce a conception equally erroneous of the 
 remedy provided for it ; — a light impression of the nature 
 and extent of the apostacy, a correspondingly light impres- 
 sion of the means of restoration ; — and a denial of the one 
 a consequent denial of the other. While these things are 
 sufficiently evident as to the bearing of our views of human 
 nature on our conceptions of the remedial part of the 
 evangelical system, — the observation is, with equal truth, 
 applicable to the speculations of philosophers on the 
 principles and laws of moral obligation. 
 
 Let me not, however, be misunderstood. I am very far 
 from intending to convey the sentiment, that the fallen 
 and sinful state of human nature has produced any altera- 
 tion whatever on the principles of obligation, and the 
 essential elements of virtue. No sentiment could be more 
 preposterous, or more pregnant with mischievous results. 
 Whatever these principles were before man fell, they con- 
 tinued the same after he had fallen ; and they now remain, 
 and must remain for ever, unaltered, and unalterable, — 
 like the Divine Being himself, in whose nature we shall 
 find them originating, " without variableness or shadow of 
 turning." The harmony of mans nature with those prin- 
 ciples was what constituted its original rectitude ; — and in 
 its contrariety to those principles consists its present 
 depravity. So far from the principles having undergone 
 any change, it is from their very permanence and immu- 
 tability that this depravity continues to be ascertained and 
 measured. Had there been a change in the standard, we 
 should have had no means of determining the extent of 
 the debasement ; — had the weights and scales been altered, 
 how could we have known how far the fallen creature, when 
 "weighed in the balances," w r as "found wanting"? The 
 obligations that lie upon man in his fallen state are the 
 very same with those which lay upon him in his state of 
 pristine innocence. His not fulfilling these obligations is 
 his guilt. A change of character in any subject of the 
 
30 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 moral government of Deity can never occasion a change 
 in the principles of that government. The law is neither 
 annulled nor altered by the rebellion of the subject. 
 
 But, granting, and more than granting, — most decidedly 
 maintaining all this, as important and undeniable truth, — 
 a very few observations will suffice to show the connexion 
 of the fall and depravity of man with our present inquiry, 
 and to make you sensible how essentially and extensively 
 it must affect all the speculations of the creature who is 
 the subject of it, on every question relating to the prin- 
 ciples of moral rectitude. I argue at present hypo- 
 thetically. I assume the fact of man's depravity, — of the 
 natural and inveterate alienation of his heart from God. 
 Now this state of his nature brings with it two distinct 
 sources of error. Man, let it be remembered, is, in our 
 present inquiry, both the investigator, and, in part at least, 
 the subject of investigation. In each of these views of him, 
 there is a source of error ; the first arising from the in- 
 fluence of his depravity on his character as an investigator; 
 and the second from the disposition to make his own 
 nature, without adverting to its fallen state, his standard 
 of moral principles, and his study in endeavouring to 
 ascertain them. 
 
 The first of these, on the assumption of depravity, must 
 be very apparent. It arises from the bias which, on all 
 such subjects, the moral state of the heart unavoidably 
 imparts to the operations of the intellect : — a bias, which 
 attaches uncertainty and inconclusiveness to all human 
 inquiries and decisions concerning them. On every point 
 that relates to religion and virtue, the mental powers of 
 man are injuriously affected by his moral estrangement 
 from God, the eternal prototype of all excellence. They 
 are prone to aberration. His moral perceptions have lost 
 their original clearness. A corrupt tendency has been 
 infused into all his speculations and reasonings on the 
 topics referred to ; so that his conclusions regarding them 
 
OF MOEAL SYSTEMS. 31 
 
 are not, without great caution, to be depended upon. How 
 preposterous would it be, to commit the decision of an 
 inquiry respecting the true principles of moral rectitude to 
 a creature subject to all the blinding and perverting in- 
 fluences of the principles of moral pravity ! Those philo- 
 sophers, it is true, who deny the fact of human corruption, 
 and hold in lofty disdain the abasing doctrine of the fall, 
 are not at all sensible of any such perverting influence 
 operating upon their judgments ; and they accordingly 
 pursue their speculations with the same freedom, and 
 draw their conclusions, and frame their theories, with the 
 same confident assurance, as in other departments of 
 science. But their not suspecting it, their even scornfully 
 disavowing it, cannot be allowed to disprove its reality. 
 It may be one of its very operations. It is in the nature 
 of the principles of depravity, to render the creatures who 
 are the subjects of them insensible of their power. It 
 exposes them to numberless modes of self-delusion ; and 
 especially in regard to what constitutes the essential 
 element of depravity, — the " enmity against God," with 
 which the heart of man is charged by his Maker. But, 
 without at present entering on any proof of this point, — 
 proceeding on the hypothetical assumption of it, it must 
 be obvious to every reflecting mind, that, while the degrees 
 in which it operates may be various, yet, on topics such as 
 that which we are now discussing, there can be little or no 
 certainty in the conclusions to which the subjects of this 
 moral pravity may come : — no ground on which, with 
 unhesitating assurance, our minds can repose. It is a 
 cause in which the judge is prepossessed, and his decisions 
 not to be trusted. 
 
 But this is not all. There is, as already mentioned, a 
 second source of error, of no less illusory influence, arising 
 from the assumption by philosophers of human nature in 
 its present state as a legitimate standard from which to 
 take their estimate of moral principles. We find them, 
 
32 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 with very few exceptions, trying to discover these princi- 
 ples — the principles of rectitude — from an attentive ex- 
 amination and analysis of the same Mien nature. They 
 take man as he is. They contemplate him as an intel- 
 lectual and moral agent, of a certain rank and character in 
 the scale of created existence ; as possessing the nature, 
 and holding the place, which the supreme will has assigned 
 him. Thus, assuming him, as he now is, to be what his 
 Creator made him and designed him to he, they pursue 
 their investigations, and deduce their conclusions, accord- 
 ingly. They discover in man a variety of principles of 
 action, which, according to their customary phraseology, 
 " the Author of his being has implanted in his nature ;" — 
 and, from the existence of these principles, they infer the 
 intentions and the character of the Being by whom the 
 constitution of his nature has been adjusted, and elicit 
 their theories respecting the essential elements of moral 
 rectitude. Now, this would be a procedure altogether 
 satisfactory, were the creature which is the subject of the 
 analytical process of investigation in the state in which it 
 came from its Creator's hand ; were it, according to its 
 appropriate nature, perfect, and so a fair specimen of the 
 moral productions of Deity ; — or, as it has been briefly and 
 happily enough expressed, "if in man that which is were 
 the same with that which ought to be."* But if the human 
 nature be indeed in the condition in which revelation affirms 
 it to be, — if it be a nature in a state of estrangement from 
 God, and of moral corruption, it is needless to say how delu- 
 sive all this necessarily becomes. How can any thing but 
 error and confusion, or, at best, mingled and partial truth, 
 be the result of an attempt to discover the principles of 
 moral rectitude from the constitution of a depraved nature ? 
 — to extract a pure system of Ethics from the elements of 
 corruption ? — to found the superstructure of moral science 
 on the scattered and unstable rubbish of fallen humanity ? 
 
 * Dr. Payne. 
 
OF MOEAL SYSTEMS. 33 
 
 Let me illustrate my meaning by a simple comparison. 
 Suppose a chemist were desirous to ascertain the ingre- 
 dients of water. What estimate should we form of his 
 judgment, if, with this view, he were to subject to his 
 analysis a quantity of what had just passed, in the bed of 
 a sluggish river, through the midst of a large manufactur- 
 ing city, from whose common sewers, and other outlets of 
 impurity, it had received every possible contamination 
 which, either by simple admixture or by chemical affinity, 
 had become incorporated with the virgin purity of the 
 fountain ; and if, proceeding on such analysis, he were to 
 publish to the world his thesis on the composition of 
 water ? Little less preposterous must be the conduct of 
 those philosophers, who derive their ideas of what con- 
 stitutes rectitude in morals from human nature as it is. 
 They analyse the water of the polluted river; and refuse 
 the guide that would conduct them to the mountain-spring 
 of its native purity. 
 
 It may perhaps be alleged, that the comparison is not 
 fair : that these philosophers should rather be likened to 
 the chemist, who, in analysing the water of the river, 
 takes care to separate all such ingredients as are merely 
 adventitious, and so to arrive at the true nature and com- 
 position of (I use the term of course in its popular accept- 
 ation) the pure element. Should this be alleged, I answer, 
 that such a comparison will be found to involve a mani- 
 fest petitio principii. The chemist who proceeds thus, 
 must of course have a previous knowledge of the compo- 
 sition of water ; else of the various ingredients, found by 
 him in the portion taken from the river, how could he 
 possibly be aware which were adventitious, and which be- 
 longed to its primitive nature? According to the com- 
 parison, therefore, as thus stated, the philosopher, with 
 whom the chemist is compared, must, in like manner, be 
 in possession of a previous knowledge of the elementary 
 principles of rectitude; from which, in his process of 
 
 T. D 
 
34 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 moral analysis, he refines away all the foreign and adven- 
 titious corruptions which, in the nature of man, have 
 mingled with and dehased them : — that is, he must be 
 already in possession of the very knowledge of which he is sup- 
 posed to be in quest. This will not do. To render the 
 comparison legitimate, we must, in both cases, suppose a 
 state of previous ignorance, and a process of investigation 
 instituted with the view of obtaining correct information. 
 In both, the source from which the information is sought 
 is fallacious ; and in both, therefore, the conclusions are 
 unavoidably uncertain or wrong. 
 
 In the brief remarks which it is my purpose to offer on 
 some of the principal theories of morals, the influence of 
 the source of error I have now adverted to may be made 
 sufficiently apparent ; yet it may not be amiss to present 
 you with an exemplification or two of what I mean when I 
 speak of philosophers, in their speculations on the princi- 
 ples of rectitude, taking human nature, according to its 
 present phenomena, as a standard of their moral estimates. 
 I give the following, not according to any principle of 
 selection, but as the first that have recently presented 
 themselves, and only as a specimen of much to the same 
 purpose, to be found in almost all the writers on moral 
 science. Others will occur in our comments on different 
 systems, which, to avoid repetition, I do not introduce 
 here. 
 
 The writer of the article Moral Philosophy, in the En- 
 cyclopaedia Britannica, gives the following statement of 
 the specific nature of the science ; and I quote it, because 
 it presents a clear view of the fallacious principle of which 
 I have been speaking : " Moral philosophy has this in 
 common with natural philosophy, that it appeals to nature, 
 or to fact ; depends on observation ; and builds its reason- 
 ings on plain, uncontroverted experiments, or upon the 
 fullest induction of particulars of which the subject will 
 admit. We must observe, in both these sciences, how 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 35 
 
 nature is affected, and what her conduct is in such and 
 such circumstances ; or, in other words, we must collect 
 the appearances of nature in any given instance, trace 
 them to some given principles or terms of operation, and 
 then apply these principles or laws to the explaining of 
 other phenomena. Therefore, moral philosophy inquires, 
 not how man might have been, but how he is, constituted ; 
 not into what principles and dispositions his actions may 
 be artfully resolved, but from what principles and dispo- 
 sitions they actually flow ; not what he may, by education, 
 habit, or foreign influence, come to be, or to do, but what 
 by his nature, or original constituent principles, he is 
 formed to be and to do. We discover the office, use, or 
 distinction, of any work, whether natural or artificial, by 
 observing its structure, the parts of which it consists, 
 their connexion, or joint action. It is thus we under- 
 stand the office and use of a watch, a plant, an eye, or a 
 hand. It is the same with a living creature of the 
 rational or brute kind. Therefore, to determine the office, 
 duty, or distinction of man ; or, in other words, what his 
 business is, or what conduct he is obliged to pursue, we 
 must inspect his constitution, take every part to pieces, 
 examine their mutual relations one to the other, and the 
 common effect or tendency of the whole." 
 
 According to this statement, we are to pursue our inves- 
 tigations in morals, as we do our researches in physics ; 
 regarding the present moral constitution of man, indicated 
 by its various phenomena, as being, in all respects, the 
 work of Deity, as really as the structure of his corporeal 
 frame, or that of any creature, animate or inanimate, in 
 the physical world ; so that, from the observation of man 
 as he is, we are to learn the moral character of Deity, and 
 the principles of rectitude as existing in his nature and 
 approved under his government, in the same way in which 
 we discover his intelligence and wisdom from the marks of 
 skill in the material universe. This, of course, proceeds 
 
36 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 on the assumption, that man, as he now is, is what he was 
 originally made, and was designed by his Maker to con- 
 tinue to be. The same writer says, and says truly, when 
 speaking of the differences of opinion subsisting with 
 regard to the criterion or test of virtue, and the principle 
 or motive of it ; " One cause of this difference respecting 
 matters of such universal importance may, perhaps, be 
 traced to the mistakes into which philosophers are apt to 
 fall concerning the original state of man." In saying this, 
 he refers to the opinion held by some, (an opinion as con- 
 trary to reason as to Scripture, and falling into merited 
 disrepute,) that the original state of man was a state of 
 ignorant savageism. But, whatever differences of opinion 
 may have arisen from this cause, the differences have been 
 both greater and more numerous, which have been occa- 
 sioned by the overlooking of " the original state of man" 
 in a higher sense, when he sustained the moral image of 
 his Creator, — light of light, — the holy creature of a holy 
 God ; and of the degeneracy of his nature, as it now pre- 
 sents itself in*his state of apostasy. 
 
 The late Dugald Stewart quotes, with high approbation, 
 the following sentiment of Melanchthon, where, to use the 
 language of the philosopher, that reformer " combats the 
 pernicious and impious tenets of those theologians who 
 maintained, that moral distinctions are created entirely by 
 the arbitrary revealed will of God : " — " Wherefore, our 
 decision is this : that those precepts which learned men 
 have committed to writing, transcribing them from the 
 common sense and common feelings of human nature, are 
 to be accounted as not less divine, than those contained in 
 the tables given to Moses ; and that it could not be the inten- 
 tion of our Maker to supersede, by a law graven on a stone, 
 that which is graven with his own finger on the table of the 
 heart." — " This language," says the commentator, " was, 
 undoubtedly, an important step towards a just system of 
 moral philosophy. But still, like the other steps of the 
 
OF MOKAL SYSTEMS. oT 
 
 reformers, it was only a return to common sense, and to 
 the genuine spirit of Christianity, from the dogmas im- 
 posed on the credulity of mankind by an ambitious 
 priesthood. Many years were yet to elapse, before any 
 attempts were to be made to trace, with analytical ac- 
 curacy, the moral phenomena of human nature to their 
 first principles in the constitution and condition of man ; 
 or even to disentangle the plain and practical lessons of 
 Ethics, from the speculative and controverted articles of 
 theological systems."* Assuming the fairness of the 
 citation from Melanchthon, the sentiment expressed in it 
 seems to me to involve an unaccountable oversight, — and, 
 in some degree at least, a falling-in with the grand error 
 of philosophical writers on Ethics. In allowing equal 
 authority to the deductions of " learned men " from " the 
 common sense and common feelings of human nature,'' 
 with that ascribed to the ten commandments, or the moral 
 law as given by Moses, the good reformer had surely 
 forgotten the depravity of that nature the dictates of whose 
 " common sense and common feelings " are thus identi- 
 fied in certainty and obligation with the direct an- 
 nouncements of the will of Deity : and had forgotten also 
 the bias produced by this depravity in the minds of 
 those very " learned men," by whom the deductions are 
 drawn, and the theories are framed. Granting, to no 
 small extent, the correctness and authority of the dictates 
 of conscience ; still, as the conscience of a fallen creature, 
 it is liable to be warped and deflected from rectitude in 
 its decisions, and must not, therefore, have absolutely 
 implicit reliance. So far from its being the design of 
 Jehovah to " supersede by a law graven on stones that 
 which is graven with his own finger on the table of the 
 heart;" it is obvious that, had the law continued " written 
 on the heart," in the same sense, and to the same extent, 
 
 * Prelim. Diss, to Suppl. to Encycl. Brit. pp. 30, 31. 
 
38 EADICAL ERROR 
 
 as at first, there would never have heen any occasion for 
 the proclamation of it from Sinai, and the graving of it, 
 for permanent appeal, on the tables of stone. We may- 
 have occasion to resort to this topic somewhat more at 
 large, when, in a future Lecture, we shall have to speak of 
 the Apostle Paul's representation of the condition of the 
 heathen. Meantime we observe, that when Mr. Stewart 
 speaks of the language of Melanchthon as " an important 
 step towards a just system of moral philosophy," and of 
 " tracing with analytical accuracy the moral phenomena 
 of human nature to their first principles in the constitution 
 and condition of man," he proceeds on the common 
 assumption, that the " constitution and condition of 
 man," — that is, of man as he now is, — affords a just 
 criterion, and the only one accessible by us, of right and 
 wrong ; and that the " first principles of the moral pheno- 
 mena of human life " are there to be sought, with a view 
 of thence ascertaining a correct system of morals. 
 
 To a certain extent, I have admitted, there is truth in 
 the representations thus made by philosophers. Eeason 
 and conscience are not obliterated, but do certainly con- 
 tinue to bear testimony for God. What we plead for is, 
 that in a depraved nature, subject to all the manifold 
 biases of corruption, they cannot be trusted to as affording 
 any certain standard either of truth or duty, — any infallible 
 indication of the mind and will of Deity. The creature 
 that has lost the moral image of God, cannot, in his moral 
 constitution, present a fair exhibition either of what God 
 is, or of what God wills, or afford any correct index to the 
 principles of moral rectitude. Were the philosophers who 
 write thus making any reference to the present state of 
 our nature as being different from what it was originally, 
 we should then understand their meaning with the quali- 
 fications which the recognition of such difference implies. 
 But their appeals to the constitution of our nature for the 
 principles of morals, are not only unaccompanied with any 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. o9 
 
 such admission, but contain either the implication, or the 
 express avowal of the contrary. 
 
 It is of human nature in its present state, and according 
 to its present phenomena, that the late Dr. Brown (of 
 whose theory of morals more particular notice will be 
 taken hereafter) shortly but emphatically says, when 
 speaking of the universal accordance of the moral senti- 
 ment among mankind : — " Since the world was created, 
 there have indeed been myriads of human beings on the 
 earth ; but there has been only one God, and there is 
 only one God. There is therefore only one great voice of 
 moral, approbation among mankind ; because He, the 
 great approver, and the great former of our moral constitution, 
 is one.'''- — This is, in few words, the essence of the 
 vitiating error of so many philosophical systems : — that 
 our present "moral constitution," — our moral constitution 
 as we now find it, — was " formed " by Him who is " the 
 great Approver " of virtue, — and so indicates his character, 
 and is a standard of the principles which he approves. — 
 I refrain from saying more, till we come to the brief con- 
 sideration of Dr. Brown's theory. 
 
 Several other references I had marked, more and less 
 explicit ; but I think it unnecessary to multiply quotations 
 in support of what will hardly be questioned, and what, 
 moreover, will more fully appear immediately. — The sub- 
 ject is deeply interesting; and the illustration of it might 
 be pursued to an indefinite extent. What I have now to 
 offer is crude and imperfect ; and I wish it to be regarded 
 rather as hints which may be amplified by others, than as 
 anything approaching to a full discussion. — I am well 
 aware, how exceedingly unpalatable the principle is, on 
 which I am now proceeding ; and with what indignation 
 philosophers will scowl upon it and hoot it down, as not 
 merely involving what will by them be regarded as a 
 
 * Lect. LXXXI. 
 
40 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 slander upon the object of their almost idolatrous venera- 
 tion, human nature, but as laying an arbitrary interdict 
 on the freedom of speculation, and wrapping in uncertainty 
 all the results, on such subjects, of philosophical research. — 
 I cannot help it. The question is not what is palatable, 
 but what is true. And the offence itself which is taken by 
 a jealous and sensitive pride, at the very suggestion of any 
 existing incompetency from a cause so humbling, only fur- 
 nishes an additional evidence that the cause exists. 
 
 In the cursory observations which I am about to make 
 on some of the principal theories of morals, my chief 
 object is, to show the bearing upon each of these theories 
 of the great general objection which I have now been 
 introducing to your notice. An occasional remark on 
 their respective merits in other points of view, may at the 
 same time be tolerated, to prevent repetition afterwards. — 
 I intend no more than a mere glance at the several 
 theories ; with the exception of one ; into which, as the 
 system of a philosophical divine of the very highest 
 and most merited eminence, I may enter a little more at 
 large. 
 
 When the Aristotelian philosophy described virtue as 
 consisting in the mean between two extremes ; I need hardly 
 say, it laid down a position singularly vague, — a position 
 which, in terms of apparent defmiteness, actually defined 
 nothing. It was, indeed, susceptible of some useful appli- 
 cation to particular departments of conduct, in which we 
 are accustomed still to admonish against extremes. But, 
 even in such cases, it is destitute of all precision : and in 
 many others it is incapable of being applied, without the 
 hazard of introducing a mischievous laxity of moral princi- 
 ple ; since there are not a few of the virtues, respecting 
 which the very attempt to fix the boundaries of the oppo- 
 site vices between which they are supposed to lie, would 
 be an approach at least to self-contradiction, — there being, 
 in such cases, not a mere difference of degrees, but a dis- 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 41 
 
 tinction and opposition of principles. The drawing of a 
 middle line would then be attended with consequences the 
 most pernicious ; because it would only be such an ap- 
 proximating of virtue to vice and of vice to virtue as, 
 instead of precisely denning either, would serve to con- 
 found both. Thus the definition is more indefinite than 
 the thing to be defined ; in some cases having no applica- 
 tion at all, and even in those to which it can be applied, 
 ascertaining nothing. * 
 
 Even on the supposition, moreover, that the terms con- 
 veyed a principle in itself correct, and capable of universal 
 application, the inquiry still remains — What are the ex- 
 tremes on either hand ? it being sufficiently obvious, that, 
 unless these can be previously fixed, there is no possibility 
 of determining the medium between them ; no more than 
 there is of drawing a central line between two geometrical 
 parallels, without having first drawn these parallels them- 
 selves. There remains, besides, another inquiry, more 
 immediately connected with our present subject, and 
 affecting the principle of the case. Supposing the ex- 
 tremes defined, even with the utmost precision, and the 
 middle line consequently traced out and marked, why are 
 these to be regarded as extremes ? and why is the middle 
 line the line of rectitude ? On what account is it, that the 
 line on the one side and on the other is wrong, and the 
 line in the middle alone right? Without some pertinent 
 
 * Sir James Mackintosh places the Peripatetic definition of virtue in the 
 fairest and most favourable light — but still not in a light which at all alle- 
 viates the obvious difficulties referred to in the text, when he says, " The 
 celebrated doctrine of the Peripatetics, which placed all virtues in a medium 
 between opposite vices, was probably suggested by the Platonic representation 
 of its necessity to keep up harmony between the different parts of our nature. 
 The perfection of a compound machine is attained, where all its parts have 
 the fullest scope for action. Where one is so far exerted as to repress others 
 there is a vice of excess. When any one has less activity than it might 
 exert without disturbing others, there is a vice of defect. The point which 
 all reach without collision against each other, is the mediocrity in which the 
 Peripatetics placed virtue." — Prelim. Diss, to Suppl. to Encycl. Brit. Sect. II. 
 
42 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 answer to such questions, there is no principle ascer- 
 tained ; for it is obvious, that if we would keep the theory 
 distinct from others, we must not introduce, for the fixing 
 of the middle line, any thing of the nature of moral 
 sense, or intuitive intellection, or approving emotion,* which 
 would at once render the definition of virtue unmeaning, 
 and confound it with the principles of theories essentially 
 different. 
 
 But, — to come to the precise point which it is my pre- 
 sent object more especially to impress, not only does the 
 difficulty meet us, of fixing the extreme and middle lines, 
 and the further difficulty of determining why the middle 
 line is right and the extremes wrong ; — we have further to 
 ask, What is the character of that nature, to which is com- 
 mitted the province of determining all these perplexing 
 points — of ascertaining and marking off extremes, of 
 tracing middle lines, and settling legitimate principles? 
 Assuming, as we now do, the Bible account of that nature, 
 we regard it as a nature of which the elements are un- 
 happily jumbled and confounded; which is " turned upside 
 down," governors and subjects having changed places, the 
 appetites and passions having usurped the sovereignty, 
 and brought the intellect under their restless domination ; 
 in which that is undermost which ought to be uppermost, 
 and that uppermost which ought to be undermost. Even 
 on the supposition, therefore, that the theory were in the 
 correctest harmony with abstract truth, how is a nature of 
 which this is the character, — which, in its judgments on 
 all such matters, is subject to so large a number and so 
 endless a variety of perverting influences, — which is itself 
 averse to the supposed middle line of rectitude, and fond 
 of the extremes on either hand of it, — how is such a 
 nature, or the creature that inherits it, to adjust points of 
 
 * The principles, respectively, of the theories of Hutcheson, Cudworth, 
 Htid Brown. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 43 
 
 so much delicacy, as the precise limits at which these 
 various bounding and intermediate lines are to be drawn ? 
 Itself in a state of actual aberration from the right line, 
 and without any sincere desire to find or to keep it, how 
 are we to trust to its decisions and its guidance ? How 
 are we, with any confidence whatever, to shape our course, 
 in the voyage of life, by any such chart as it can lay down? 
 How preposterous the idea of leaving to a nature of which 
 the character is summed up in "enmity against God," the 
 delicate office of settling those extremes, between which, 
 in the precise middle line, itself also requiring to be drawn 
 with precision, lies the true path of moral rectitude ! 
 
 According to the Stoical system, — the system of the 
 school of Zeno, — virtue, or moral rectitude, consisted in 
 living according to nature. But of this definition, the terms 
 were by some understood in a more enlarged and by others 
 in a more limited acceptation ; the former interpreting 
 them as meaning according to the nature of things in 
 general, while the latter restricted them to the nature of 
 man. The general doctrine was, that conformity to nature 
 is the first object of pursuit; that every one who has a 
 right discernment of what is good will be chiefly concerned 
 to conform to nature in all his actions and pursuits ; and 
 this they regarded as the origin of moral obligation. 
 From the peculiar metaphysical notions of the sect of 
 Zeno, respecting the existence of only one substance in 
 the universe, partly active and partly passive, and from 
 their giving to the former the appellation of Deity, their 
 theory of living according to nature has been identified by 
 some moderns with the system of those who resolve virtue 
 into conformity to the will of God ; and Warburton, in- 
 deed, has compared the three principal schools of antiquity, 
 the followers of Plato, of Aristotle, and of Zeno, respect- 
 ively, to the patrons in more modern times, of the moral 
 sense, of the essential differences, and of arbitrary will. Yet, 
 in the leading principle of the doctrine of the Stoics, — 
 
44 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 that virtue consists in "living according to nature," — there 
 appears to be quite as much of analogy to the second of 
 these three schemes, that of essential differences or eternal 
 fitnesses, as there is to the last. 
 
 But at all events, in ascertaining what is meant by con- 
 formity to nature, it is obvious that the character and con- 
 stitution of the nature of man must be especially regarded, 
 as among the indications either of the divine will, or of 
 what is essentially fit. Now, in the system which contains 
 the definition, it is surely needless to say, the doctrine of 
 man's innate depravity, as a creature fallen from the state 
 in which he was created, had no place. The assumption, 
 on the contrary, was, that human nature is now in the 
 state in which it was originally, and in which the gods, or 
 the active principle of the universe, or an unmeaning des- 
 tiny, designed and appointed it to be. If we are to take 
 the definition, then, in this view of it, — as signifying con- 
 formity to nature in the present constitution of man, — we 
 may well sigh over the result. Alas ! for virtue. If man 
 be a fallen and depraved being, a being from whose heart 
 the very first principle and most essential element of all 
 true goodness is absent, — I mean the love of God, — then 
 what are we to make of living according to nature, as a 
 definition of moral rectitude ? Instead of a definition of 
 virtue, it becomes little better than a definition of vice. 
 The nature being itself evil, to live according to it (even 
 with all the restraining and corrective power of a con- 
 science, which remains indeed, but which participates in 
 the corruption), cannot be good. To live according to 
 nature, if nature is understood of the fallen nature of man, 
 is, in truth, to live most unnaturally ; what we are accus- 
 tomed to call the natural state of man being the most 
 unnatural in which it is possible for an intelligent creature 
 to be : unnatural, that is, according to every conception 
 the mind can form to itself of the natural fitnesses of 
 things, especially in regard to the relation of the creature 
 
OF MOEAL SYSTEMS. 45 
 
 to the Creator. The definition would have suited man 
 well when he came, all-upright and pure, from his Maker's 
 hand, — a specimen of his moral excellence, as well as of 
 his power and his wisdom, — a scintillation of the light of 
 the Godhead. But if, I repeat, human nature be what the 
 Scriptures represent it to be, — a representation in har- 
 mony with universal fact, — then, what kind of definition is 
 it of virtue, that it consists in living according to a nature 
 which, in its radical principles and innate tendencies, is in 
 a state of opposition to virtue ; to virtue in its essential 
 elementary principle — the love of God? We may have 
 occasion to revert to the leading features of this system, 
 when we come to consider that of Bishop Butler; which 
 is essentially the doctrine of the school of Zeno, modified 
 by the knowledge of divine revelation, and professedly 
 argued on Christian principles. 
 
 If jo. the Stoical definition nature be understood more 
 generally; it will then be found to express a standard of 
 rectitude, which, while it may be nearer than the other to 
 truth, is yet greatly more recondite and remote from 
 apprehension. "When so understood, however, it corre- 
 sponds so very nearly with another system, which shall 
 be noticed by and by, that I need not now insist upon it ; 
 I mean that which resolves virtue into an agreement with 
 the eternal fitnesses of things; the system of Cudworth, 
 Clarke, and Price. 
 
 I shall pass over, as undeserving of a moment's notice, 
 the theory of Aeistjlppus, Democeitus, and others of the 
 Cyeenian and Atomical schools. It corresponds very 
 much to the Hobbism of more modern times; regarding 
 virtue and vice as mere arbitrary distinctions, depending 
 on the will of the magistrate and the authority of human 
 enactments ; so that, according as these vary, what is 
 virtue in one country may be vice in another, and what is 
 vice to-day may be virtue to-morrow. 
 
 Of the system of Epicueus very different representations 
 
46 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 have been given, according as it has been viewed in its 
 original statements, or as it was subsequently corrupted 
 into a scheme of mere animal pleasure and unrestrained 
 sensuality.* We shall take it in its " best estate." Ac- 
 cording to it, then, we are to regard happiness as the great 
 end of our being : and this happiness consists in living as 
 free as possible from the evils incident to life, and in the 
 enjoyment of as large a measure as possible of its goods. 
 The only things to be regarded as in themselves good or 
 evil, are pleasure and pain ; and of all else that is called 
 good or evil, these, therefore, are constituted the legitimate 
 measures: — in regard to all objects of desire or of aversion, 
 the sole reason why the one is pursued and the other 
 avoided, being, that the one is fitted to procure pleasure, 
 the other to occasion pain ; and the degree of the antici- 
 pated pleasure or pain regulating the degree of the eager- 
 
 * President Edwards speaks of Epicurus as " that father of atheism and 
 licentiousness," and of his followers, as "the very worst of the heathen 
 philosophers." — Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will, Part IV. Sect. 6. This 
 is sufficiently severe. " The moral character of Epicurus," says Sir 
 James Mackintosh, " was excellent : no man more enjoyed the pleasures, 
 or hetter performed the duties of friendship. The letter of his system was 
 no more indulgent to vice than that of any other moralist. ' All other virtues,' 
 said Epicurus, ' grow from prudence ; which teaches that we cannot live 
 pleasuraLly without living justly and virtuously, nor live justly and 
 virtuously without living pleasurably.' The illustration of this sentence 
 formed the whole moral discipline of Epicurus." — Prelim. Diss. Sect. 2. 
 Perhaps these two seemingly opposite estimates both of the philosopher and 
 his system, may he brought towards harmony by what Sir James says further : 
 " Although, therefore, Epicurus has the merit of having more strongly incul- 
 cated the connexion of virtue with happiness, perhaps by the faulty excess of 
 treating it as an exclusive principle ; yet his doctrine was justly charged with 
 indisposing the mind to those exalted and generous sentiments, without 
 which no pure, elevated, bold, generous, or tender virtues can exist." — Ibid. 
 In support of this representation, he refers to Cicero, — " Nil generosum, nil 
 magniricum sapit." Assuredly a system justly chargeable with such defects, 
 which was incompatible with the existence, in the character formed by it, of 
 purity, elevation, magnanimity, generosity, and tenderness, might justify 
 terms of no very qualified censure. And when to this statement is super- 
 added its virtual atheism, we shall not wonder at any amount of evil resulting 
 from it. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 47 
 
 ness with which the one is sought, and of the solicitude 
 with which the other is shunned. The great principle 
 of the system, as a system of Ethics, delivered by the phi- 
 losopher himself, and taken in its most favourable light, 
 was, " That a steady course of virtue produces the greatest 
 quantum of pleasure and happiness of which human 
 nature is capable." Prudence, temperance, sobriety, for- 
 titude, gentleness, justice, all contribute, in their respective 
 kinds, to make up this quantum of happiness ; and their 
 tendency to its production is what constitutes them vir- 
 tuous, and determines their title to moral approbation. 
 The system acknowledged nothing of the honestum, of 
 which the rectitude, and the approbation of it in our 
 minds were independent of its consequences to ourselves, 
 whether painful or pleasant.* It is not difficult to per- 
 ceive, how liable this system was to perversion and abuse, 
 by the affixing of a sensual acceptation to those terms 
 which were used in it to express the idea of happiness. 
 And we shall wonder the less that such abuse should have 
 taken place, when it is considered how very limited and 
 inadequate was the import of those terms, even as em- 
 ployed by its founder. — The system of Epicurus, moreover, 
 was a modification of atheism. Every thing of the nature 
 of providence, or the superintendence of Deity over human 
 affairs, being denied, there was, of course, no higher prin- 
 ciple brought into exercise than a mere consideration of 
 present results. Happiness meant merely the enjoyment 
 of present pleasure, and the absence of present pain ; and, 
 instead of comprehending, in the estimate of it, the whole 
 of our immortal being, it was confined to the brief period 
 of man's earthly life. — It was thus, in fact, the system of 
 utility, as the standard of virtue, in its lowest grade. 
 
 According to this system, — (and the observation applies, 
 
 * " Honestum, igitur, id intelligimus, quod tale est, ut, detracta omni 
 utilitate, sine ullis prcemiis fractibusve, per se ipsuin possitjure laudari." 
 — Cicero. # 
 
I 3 RADICAL EBBOK 
 
 in a greater or less degree, to every system that founds 
 morals in utility) — there is nothing in virtue that renders 
 it virtue, beyond its experienced conduciveness to human 
 enjoyment. Instead of virtue being something indepen- 
 dently and in its own nature good, from which effects 
 result in correspondence with its nature, its goodness 
 is sought exclusively in the effects themselves; these 
 alone being what constitutes any action virtuous, or the 
 contrary : — so that we are furnished by it with the anoma- 
 lous and. circular statement, that " a steady course of 
 virtue produces the greatest quantum of happiness," as if 
 the virtue were something "possessing a specific character 
 of its own, something in itself good, independently of the 
 happiness produced by it; while yet, in the theory, its 
 conduciveness to the production of happiness is that 
 which alone constitutes it virtue ; happiness being the 
 sole end, and there being nothing previous, or superior, 
 from w T hich the nature of virtue originates. 
 
 All systems by which virtue is founded in utility, even 
 when the term is taken in its most comprehensive accept- 
 ation, are liable to the grand objection we are now espe- 
 cially considering, — namely, that, although the principle 
 of them were ever so correct, it is a principle of which a 
 fallen nature is utterly inconrpetent to make the applica- 
 tion. We might go further, and say, that the task of 
 determining the useful, in its legitimate extent of meaning, 
 is beyond the limited powers of any creature. — But at 
 present, instead of insisting upon this, (as it will more than 
 once come before us hereafter), I would rather hold up 
 the Epicurean system, even in its most undebased form, 
 as a sad exemplification of the tendency of human nature 
 to a low and unworthy estimate of that happiness which 
 the system regards as the end and the standard of moral 
 rectitude ; — and as thus affording a practical confirmation 
 of the validity of the objection. For a just decision in a 
 case of such momentous interest, how are we to trust to 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 49 
 
 a nature, which, in this instance, bounds its ideas of the 
 happiness of a creature like man by what contributes to 
 the pleasure of his little span of life on earth ; and which, 
 moreover, by excluding Deity from the government of the 
 world, at once sets aside the first and highest of the 
 elementary principles of goodness in the heart of the crea- 
 ture, a due regard to God, — and the greatest, by infinite 
 degrees, of the ends which utility ought ever to be consi- 
 dered as embracing, — the glory of the infinite Creator ! 
 I do not noiv, therefore, contend against this system, on 
 the ground that utility cannot be the foundation of virtue, 
 but rather as affording proof that human nature cannot be 
 the judge of utility. We see in it one of the results (and 
 it does not stand alone) of leaving the decision of such a 
 point with such a tribunal. Even were utility admitted to 
 be the foundation and standard of virtue, still what is 
 included in utility must be determined by a different 
 authority, — by a mind, not only free of all the biassing 
 influences of moral corruption, but above all the necessary 
 limitations of created being, and capable of comprehend- 
 ing both the vastness of the universe and the infinitude of 
 the Godhead. 
 
 We shall pursue the application of the same principle to 
 other systems in our next Lecture. 
 
LECTURE III. 
 
 THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. 
 
 " Science falsely so called." — 1 Trap. vi. 20. 
 
 The same general principle of objection, which, in the 
 close of last Lecture, was applied to the moral systems of 
 the Aristotelian, the Stoical, and the Epicurean schools, — 
 that, namely, derived from the present fallen state of 
 human nature, as both rendering that nature a deceitful 
 standard of moral goodness, and the possessor of it a 
 corrupt and prejudiced judge, — we now proceed to consider 
 in its application to certain other systems of more modern 
 origin, though some of them bearing resemblance, in 
 their leading principles, to one or other of the systems of 
 antiquity. 
 
 I begin with the system which resolves virtue into 
 agreement with the eteenal fitnesses of things. — To 
 enter at large into illustration of the principles of this 
 system, as introduced by Cudworth, and ably taken up 
 and defended by Clarke and Price, would be foreign to 
 my present purpose. It is only necessary to state them 
 to such an extent as to make the bearing of my general 
 objection manifest. According to this theory, then, the 
 right and wrong of actions are to be regarded as ranking 
 amongst necessary or first truths, which are discerned by 
 the mind, independently of all reasoning or evidence ; so 
 that the perception of right or wrong, along with the 
 consequent sentiment of approbation or disapprobation, 
 is as unavoidable as the perception of the truth or false- 
 
RADICAL ERROR OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 5 I 
 
 hood of self-evident propositions, — propositions which are 
 never so much obscured as by attempts to prove them, and 
 which we believe, simply because we cannot but believe 
 them. The system maintains an absolute and eternal 
 distinction between right and wrong, — a distinction which 
 the mind intuitively discerns ; the right consisting in 
 correspondence, and the wrong in contrariety, to the 
 eternal fitnesses of things.* 
 
 I am far from intending to affirm that this phraseology, 
 about fitnesses, and eternal fitnesses, has no meaning. 
 I believe it to have a meaning, and an important meaning 
 too. I have no hesitation in admitting, that there do 
 exist such fitnesses as the definition assumes, and that 
 virtue may with propriety be regarded as consisting in 
 conformity with these fitnesses ; — whence this is to be 
 considered as arising, we may hereafter see. Suppose, 
 then, we grant that the moral fitness of the action of an 
 intelligent agent lies in its congruity with the true nature, 
 circumstances, and relations of things ; a general idea 
 may be given of this congruity, and consequently of the 
 moral fitness of which it is the assumed standard, from 
 that relation which is obviously the first and highest of all 
 that are possible — the relation, namely, in which such a 
 creature stands to the Author of his existence. There 
 cannot surely be any hesitation in assenting to the propo- 
 sition, that in moral science, the unfitness of profanity in 
 the speech or conduct, or of irreverence or hatred in the 
 mind, of such a creature towards Deity, is as real and as 
 palpable as, in the science of physics, would be the unfit- 
 ness of a cube to fill up a spherical case.f How incon- 
 sistent soever with this maxim may be the behaviour of 
 mankind in general, — behaviour indicative of that estrange- 
 ment of affection from God which is the essence of their 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note E. 
 + Notes and Illustrations. Note F. 
 
b'4 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 depravity, — yet we cannot imagine a man in the possession 
 of a sound mind, and understanding the terms of the pro- 
 position, to withhold from it the assent of his judgment. 
 If hesitation ever appears in avowing such assent, it 
 must he the hesitation which a man naturally feels who 
 is reluctant to condemn himself. Who ever met with a 
 profane man, who would, on principle, vindicate his 
 blasphemies ? 
 
 But although a few such general maxims, — such great 
 fundamental principles, — may be admitted to be, with all 
 propriety, classed among first truths, and held as correct 
 exemplifications of the fitness of things ; — yet even of a sin- 
 less creature, if we suppose him left entirely to his own 
 unassisted conceptions, how very limited must be the com- 
 prehension of what may be embraced in such a phrase ! 
 It is a phrase, easily uttered, and it expresses what has not 
 merely theoretical but real existence ; but it is a phrase 
 of vast amount of meaning, comprehending views so en- 
 larged and complicated, as to be utterly beyond the grasp 
 and the distinct apprehension of a finite intellect. The 
 line of created wisdom is too short to sound their depths. 
 There is one line alone that can reach, — one intellect alone 
 that can thoroughly search them. They are views, which 
 can be embraced in all their amplitude, — fathomed in all 
 their profoundness, — traced out in all their ramifications, 
 only by that Mind, which planned and framed the universe, 
 and by which all its endless relations were originally ad- 
 justed, — the relations of creatures to fellow-creatures, and 
 of all creatures to himself; this last being necessarily the 
 first in order, the highest in obligation, and the foundation 
 of all the rest. 
 
 Here, then, comes in, in all its force of application, our 
 master difficulty. If such things are true of a finite nature, 
 even though sinless, — how is a nature that is not only thus 
 limited, but in which the proper order of things has been 
 disturbed and inverted, — in which, especially, the claims 
 
or MORAL SYSTEMS. 53 
 
 of the first and most sacred of all relations have lost their 
 hold, and are disregarded and trampled under foot, — how 
 is such a nature, with any semblance of reason, to be con- 
 stituted judge of the universal and eternal moral fitnesses 
 of things ? It should not be forgotten, that the learned 
 framers of the system now under our notice, had the benefit, 
 in putting it together, of the light of revelation. Hence 
 the superiority of their illustrations and defences of its 
 principles to any thing of a similar character broached 
 among the sages of antiquity. But, even as maintained 
 by these Christian philosophers, the system does not con- 
 tain that distinct and full recognition of the real state of 
 human nature, for which I am at present pleading, as 
 essential to a correct judgment on all such subjects. It 
 is surely very manifest, that, unless there be a just appre- 
 hension of the true character and condition of man, there 
 cannot fail to be a corresponding misconception and error 
 iu the estimate of those fitnesses, in conformity to which 
 virtue, or moral rectitude, is supposed to consist. If the 
 human nature, as it now is, is conceived to be in its pris- 
 tine and proper state, even as the Sovereign Creator made 
 and meant it to be, — and if the estimate of those fitnesses 
 is framed on this mistaken hypothesis; it is not difficult 
 to perceive, how materially the true relation of man to God, 
 and of God to man, may be misunderstood, and what an 
 amount of error may, by such misunderstanding, be intro- 
 duced into the conclusions of which it becomes the ground. 
 In order to a right estimate of fitnesses, there must of 
 necessity be a right conception of the relations between 
 which they subsist. I have formerly admitted, that the 
 fall and consequent sinfulness of man have made no change 
 on his original moral obligations ; but of these obligations 
 themselves our ideas cannot but be materially affected 
 by ignorance of his true condition, and of the difference 
 between what his nature was at first, and what it has 
 now become. For, if it be from our conception of the 
 
5 1 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 fitnesses involved in the relation reciprocally subsisting 
 between man and God, that our estimate of these obli- 
 gations is formed ; — then, if the conception of those fit- 
 nesses proceeds upon a view of this relation, as it now 
 exists, which is either entirely, or to any considerable 
 degree, erroneous, who does not perceive to what con- 
 fusion, to what total misapprehension, or at least to what 
 incongruous blending of truth and falsehood, this must 
 necessarily lead ? Here, then, we have the double source 
 of error formerly adverted to, — the incompetency of the 
 judge, and the incorrectness of the standard.* 
 
 * I have taken no notice in the text of the system of Wollaston, according 
 to which virtue consists in conformity to tniih, or to the truth of things; — 
 partly hecause it was not my purpose to introduce all the different theories 
 which philosophers have broached, and partly hecause it bears so close a 
 correspondence to that of Cudworth ; the fitness of things and the truth of things, 
 conveying ideas, as far as we can understand the phrases, so analogous, 
 that the same objections which are valid against the one system will be of 
 equal force against the other. The near resemblance of the two may appear 
 from the following language of Jonathan Edwards in regard to Wollaston. 
 After having remarked that " most of the duties incumbent upon us, if well 
 considered, will be found to partake of the nature of justice; that there is 
 some natural agreement of one thing to another; some adaptedness of the 
 agent to the object ; some answerableness of the act to the occasion ; some 
 equality and proportion in things of a similar nature, and of a direct relation 
 one to another," &c. — language quite appropriate to the fitness of things — he 
 proceeds to observe : — "it is this secondary kind of beauty which belongs to 
 the virtues and duties that are required of us, that Mr. Wollaston had in his 
 eye, when he resolved all virtue into an agreement of inclinations, volitions, 
 and actions, with truth. He evidently has respect to the justice there is in 
 the virtues and duties that are proper to be in one being towards another; 
 which consists in one being's expressing such affections, and using such a 
 conduct, towards another, as hath a natural agreement and proportion to what 
 is in them, and what we receive from them : which is as much a natural 
 conformity of affection and action with its ground, object, and occasion, as 
 that which is between a true proposition and the thing spoken of in it." — 
 ( Dim. on the Nature] of True Virtue, Chap, iii.) I do not now consider the 
 terms used by Edwards as they relate to his own system, which will come to 
 be discussed hereafter. I quote the passage as aptly illustrative of the ap- 
 proximation to each other (so as almost to become identical in import) of 
 Illnesses in Clarke's system and truth in Wollaston's. — Similar observations 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 55 
 
 Under the same condemnation, in a heavier measure, 
 must be laid the " Theory of Moral Sentiments," by the 
 justly celebrated Adam Smith. 
 
 The work in which this theory is unfolded has been 
 eulogised as, " in its minor details and illustrations, pre- 
 senting a model of philosophic beauty, of which all must 
 acknowledge the power, who are not disqualified by their 
 veiy nature for the admiration and enjoyment of intel- 
 lectual excellence ; so dull of understanding as to shrink, 
 with a painful consciousness of incapacity, at the very 
 appearance of refined analysis ; or so dull and cold of 
 heart, as to feel no charm in the delightful varieties of 
 an eloquence, that in the illustration and embellishment 
 of the noblest truths, seems itself to live and harmonize 
 with those noble sentiments which it adorns."- This 
 is high praise ; but it is the praise of one who himself 
 rejects the theory; pronouncing it, in its leading doctrine, 
 w as manifestly false, as the greater number of its second- 
 ary and minute delineations are faithful to the fine 
 lights, and faint and flying shades, of that moral nature 
 which they represent : " — a nature which thus, without 
 any acknowledgment of its fallen state, comes in for its 
 share of the eulogy bestowed on its philosophic delineator. 
 It is with the principles of the theory alone that we have 
 at present to do. And we may safely say, that, but for 
 the well-earned celebrity of the name attached to it, it 
 would hardly have been deemed deserving of serious 
 regard. It is the product of an ingenious, refined, and 
 vigorous intellect, in quest of something original on a 
 tritical subject; — but it has, justly, I think, been desig- 
 nated "fantastical,"! and may, not inaptly, perhaps, be 
 characterised as the enthusiasm of moral science. 
 
 might, perhaps, he made with regard to Malebranche's love of order as the 
 principle of virtue, and conformity to universal order as what constitutes moral 
 rectitude. 
 
 * Dr. Thomas Brown. + Dr. Payne. 
 
16 
 
 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 According to this theory, we judge of the actions of 
 others by a direct, and of our own by a reflex sympathy. 
 If we are conscious of a full sympathy with the emotions 
 of the agent in performing an action, we pronounce the 
 action right; if of a similar sympathy with the gratitude 
 of the object of the action, we pronounce the agent meri- 
 torious; — our estimate of the moral rectitude of the action 
 depending on our sympathy with the agent, — and our 
 estimate of the merits of the agent, on our sympathy with 
 the object of his action. Then, with regard to our own 
 conduct, " we in some measure reverse this process ; or 
 rather, by a process still more refined, we imagine others 
 sympathizing with us, and we sympathize with their sym- 
 pathy. We consider how our conduct would appear to 
 an impartial spectator. We approve of it if it be that of 
 which we feel he would approve ; — we disapprove of it, if 
 it be that which we feel, by the experience of our own 
 former emotions, when we have ourselves, in similar cir- 
 cumstances, estimated the actions of others, would excite 
 his disapprobation. We are able to form a judgment of 
 our own conduct, therefore, because we have previously 
 judged of the moral conduct of others, that is to say, have 
 previously sympathized with the feelings of others ; and 
 but for the presence, or supposed presence, of some im- 
 partial spectator, as a mirror to represent to us ourselves, 
 we should as little have known the beauty or deformity of 
 our own moral character, as we should have known the 
 beauty or ugliness of our external features, without some 
 mirror to reflect them to our eye."* 
 
 * I have taken this succinct statement of the principles of Dr. Smith's 
 theory from Dr. Brown, because it appears to me to be comprehensively and 
 luminously correct; and I therefore felt it needless to attempt another. 
 "Perhaps," says Sir James Mackintosh, "there is no Ethical work, since 
 Cicero's Offices, of which an abridgment enables the reader so inadequately 
 to estimate the merit, as the Theory of Moral Sentiments. This is not chiefly 
 owing to tbe beauty of diction, as in the case of Cicero ; but to the varieties 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 57 
 
 I do not intend attempting the exposure of all the 
 fallacies with which this system is chargeable. It is 
 chiefly in the one point of view in which I have been 
 endeavouring to place other theories, that I wish to con- 
 template it. If, however, it merits not the designation of 
 enthusiasm, I know nothing that does. It is equally en- 
 titled to the appellation, whether it be viewed in reference 
 to the principle or to the standard of moral rectitude. In 
 regard to the principle, it is not conceivable that its inge- 
 nious author could imagine actions to be right or wrong, 
 because they had, or had not, a concurrent sympathy in 
 our minds ; as if it were the sympathy that constituted 
 their rectitude, or the absence of it their delinquency, in- 
 dependently of any thing in themselves on account of 
 which the sympathy is experienced or withheld. If our 
 sympathy with the actions of others, and with the emo- 
 tions of the agents, only ascertains to us their rectitude, 
 then it has nothing to do with the determination of the 
 principle or foundation of virtue, but serves the purpose 
 merely of a criterion or test. But even in this view, how 
 unsatisfactory is it! how necessarily unstable and fluc- 
 tuating, in consequence of the exposure of our sympa- 
 thies to so endless a variety of extraneous influences (some 
 constant, some incidental, and not a few of both insinuat- 
 ing and powerful) arising from the multiplicity of circum- 
 stances that may operate upon the selfish principle ; as 
 well as of relations, of greater or less proximity and in- 
 timacy, in which we happen to stand to the agents ; or, it 
 may be too, of indifference, jealousy, or dislike ! How 
 
 of explanation of life and manners, which embellish the book often more 
 than they illuminate the theory. Yet, on the other hand, it must be owned 
 that, for purely philosophical purposes, few works more need abridgment : 
 for the most careful reader frequently loses sight of principles buried under 
 illustrations. The natural copious and flowing style of the author is gene- 
 rally redundant; and the repetition of certain formularies of the system 
 is, in the later editions, so frequent as to be wearisome, and sometimes 
 ludicrous." — Prel. Diss. p. 358. 
 
58 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 uncertain a thing, alas ! would virtue be, were this fellow- 
 feeling to be its criterion! — And then, considered as a 
 test of our own actions, how whimsically circuitous is the 
 process prescribed by it, before we can determine whether 
 we have done right or wrong ! What a strange anomaly 
 in a " theory of moral sentiments," that it should require 
 a more complex analysis of mental feeling, to ascertain 
 the rectitude of what we do ourselves, than to determine 
 the virtue of the actions of others ! — that it should make 
 the process longest, where prompt and instantaneous deci- 
 sion is most frequently required ! How extraordinary, 
 too, is the oversight of a consideration which is not less 
 obvious in itself than it is fatal to the theory, — namely, 
 that the " impartial spectator," by our sympathy with 
 whom in his sympathy with us we are to determine the 
 rectitude or the faultiness of our own act, is a spectator 
 of our own imagining ; to whom, of course, we will, natur- 
 ally and unavoidably, transfer a portion at least, if not 
 even the whole, of our self-partiality ; so that, after all, 
 our reflex sympathy with the sympathy of the unpre- 
 judiced witness, turns out to be nothing more than an 
 illusory fellow-feeling with ourselves ! 
 
 But independently of these and similar objections, the 
 theory stands exposed, like others, to the overwhelming 
 force of the one now under our special consideration. 
 Those sympathies which, in their direct and reflex forms, 
 are elevated to the high and responsible position of the 
 criterion at least, if not the very principle, of moral right 
 and wrong, are the sympathies of a depraved nature ; the 
 feelings of a creature imbued to the very core with the 
 corrupting taint of sin. They are sympathies which, be- 
 ing uninfluenced by the first element of moral goodness 
 — love to the supreme possessor and source of all excel- 
 lence, are less likely, in a vast variety of cases, to be on 
 the side of good than on that of evil. According to a low 
 standard, indeed, of sentimental virtue, which either leaves 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 59 
 
 Deity out of its estimate, or assumes a character of him 
 very different from that which, in his word, he gives of 
 himself, it may be otherwise ; there may be a more fre- 
 quent coincidence between sympathy and rectitude : — 
 (although, even taking the standard of the conventional 
 morality of the world, the preceding objections to the 
 theory would be far from destitute of force :) but its grand 
 and fatal error lies in this, — that it assumes, what, alas ! 
 has no basis in truth — the rectitude of human nature. If 
 it be so, that that nature has lost its rectitude, then the 
 theory, and the philosopher who framed it, are found 
 chargeable with the strange anomaly of making the sym- 
 pathies of what is evil the criterion of what is good. 
 
 Let us now, on the same principle, very briefly examine 
 Dr. Hutcheson's theory of a moral sense : — a theory 
 which, in the phraseology of it, we apprehend, has been 
 adopted by not a few, without any very distinct under- 
 standing of its real merits. They have used the terms 
 moral sense and conscience as synonymous, without very 
 accurately examining into the nature of either. It is not 
 the merits of the theory in general that I have at present 
 to discuss. I satisfy myself, (as in former cases,) with a 
 single remark or two, merely so far illustrative of its 
 nature as to show the applicability to it of my leading 
 objection. The moral sense, as the very use of the term 
 sense implies, is designed to denote a supposed internal 
 power, whose operation bears analogy to that of the ex- 
 ternal or corporeal senses. As the sensations derived by 
 the latter from the objects around us, are pleasing or dis- 
 pleasing ; so, by means of this inward mental sense, the 
 feelings of moral approbation or disapprobation are ex- 
 cited in our minds, by the different actions and affections 
 of moral agents. The operation of this moral sense is to 
 be considered, agreeably to the designed analogy, as in- 
 dependent of reason and of all argumentation : and it is 
 from the internal sensations (if I may so express myself) 
 
60 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 to which it gives rise, that our moral judgments are 
 formed. The intimations of this moral sense are to be 
 regarded as equally immediate and equally sure with the 
 intuitive intellectual perceptions of the preceding system, 
 or (agreeably to the analogy on which its nomenclature is 
 founded) with the notions of things without us received 
 by the instrumentality of our bodily organs. 
 
 According to this theory, it would seem, that the quali- 
 ties which constitute virtue, or moral goodness, must be 
 regarded rather as relative than as essential. It makes the 
 rectitude of any action to consist in a certain relation 
 which it bears to this moral sense, in consequence of 
 which it produces pleasure ; in the same way as particular 
 colours occasion sensations of pleasure, in consequence of 
 a similar relation between them and the organ of vision, 
 — or particular sounds, from the same kind of relation 
 between them and the organ of hearing. This appears to 
 make the nature of virtue dependent on the arbitrary con- 
 stitution of the mind ; so that, in affirming a thing to be 
 right, we do not mean that it has in itself any property of 
 essential and immutable rectitude, — but only that, accord- 
 ing to the constitution of our minds, it gives rise to a 
 certain inward feeling of pleasure and approbation : — 
 whence it follows, that, on the supposition of a change in 
 the moral sense, and a consequent change in the moral 
 sensations, there would arise a corresponding change in 
 the nature of moral rectitude, modifying, or even, it might 
 be, reversing, our ideas of right and wrong. By adopting 
 the intimations of a moral sense, not in a merely analogi- 
 cal and figurative, but in the strict and proper acceptation 
 of terms, in contradistinction to the mind's intuitive per- 
 ception of essential truths, the authors of this system 
 have certainly left it open to this radical objection. Were 
 we to understand terms figuratively, we might, in the way 
 of analogy, without any great impropriety, have applied 
 the designation moral sense, intelligibly enough, to that 
 
OF MOEAL SYSTEMS. G 1 
 
 intuitive discernment of moral distinctions, which we con- 
 ceive to be the appropriate possession of a sinless crea- 
 ture, and, along with the perfect conformity of disposition 
 to the perception of right, to constitute the harmony of 
 that creature's nature with the nature of Deity. But man 
 is not now such a creature. He is the very reverse, — not 
 sinless, but radically sinful. And here, therefore, as before, 
 applies our fatal objection. What are we to think of find- 
 ing the principle, or even the standard and criterion of 
 virtue, in the moral sense (whether understood more 
 literally or more figuratively, more strictly or more 
 vaguely) of a creature whose moral nature is vitiated, 
 and alienated from God ? Might we not, quite as rea- 
 sonably, nominate, as judge of colours, a man with jaun- 
 diced or otherwise distempered eyes, — or a man whose 
 palate, in consequence of some organic or constitutional 
 disorder, had lost its discriminating functions, an ar- 
 bitrator of tastes ? If there be in man's moral vision an 
 obscuring film, or a distorting obliquity ; — if there be a 
 hebetude in his spiritual taste, or such an inversion of its 
 original relishes as to " put bitter for sweet and sweet for 
 bitter;" must not this equally disqualify him from being 
 a judge of appeal on questions regarding the principles of 
 rectitude ? Give the power of which we have been speak- 
 ing what name you will, a change of name alters not the 
 nature of the thing. It is still the power of a depraved 
 creature, and, partaking in the depravity, cannot be safely 
 trusted as a moral arbiter ; we never can repose, with any- 
 thing approaching to implicit confidence, in the correct- 
 ness of its arbitrements. — Call it conscience ; you are no 
 nearer the truth :— for either by conscience you mean the 
 same thing that Dr. Hutcheson meant by his moral sense, 
 in which case there is no difference at all ; or if you mean 
 something else, or something more, still it is the con- 
 science of a depraved creature, and, being necessarily 
 affected by the depravity, cannot, on such a subject, be an 
 
OvJ RADICAL EUROS 
 
 absolutely sure standard of principle. We can no more 
 confide in the certain rectitude of its decisions, than, in 
 any cause of importance, we could rest a final sentence on 
 the testimony of a witness who was liable to be suborned 
 and bribed, or whom, on different occasions, we knew 
 to have betrayed no very scrupulous regard to truth. Of 
 the proper nature of conscience we shall speak a little 
 hereafter : — but to whatever conclusions we may come on 
 that point, of this we are sure, that there is quite enough 
 in its dictates to be a legitimate ground of responsibility ; 
 the corruption of heart, indeed, by which those dictates 
 are liable to be perverted being what itself constitutes the 
 guilt of man, and what can never therefore be his apology. 
 This is the very thing that has impaired and deadened 
 its sensibilities, especially towards God, and has sub- 
 verted its judicial integrity. The inward monitor is 
 environed by a fearful assemblage of biassing and vitiat- 
 ing influences, assailing, tempting, bribing it on every 
 hand, whispering their insinuations, alarming by their 
 threats, and alluring by their promises. We should no 
 more, therefore, think of taking our standard of duty from 
 the conscience of such a creature, than we should think of 
 receiving from him our instructions as to the nature of 
 God. If it be true that, from the very domination of 
 depraved affections and desires, men " did not like to 
 retain God in their knowledge," we surely cannot wonder 
 that they should have discovered an aversion not less 
 inveterate to retain the right knowledge of his will ; espe- 
 cially when we consider, that it was in fact the dislike 
 of his will, and the fondness for what was opposite to it, 
 that fostered the spirit of alienation from himself, and 
 engendered the wish for gods more congenial to their 
 depraved propensities. Men, I must repeat, who actually 
 possess the benefit of revelation, may, by the aid of its 
 unacknowledged, nay possibly its disowned and disparaged 
 light, construct theories of imposing plausibility, both as 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 63 
 
 to the knowledge of Deity and the knowledge of duty 
 attainable by unassisted nature ; — but facts— stubborn, 
 melancholy, unnumbered facts, are against them. Wher- 
 ever, indeed, there are not entertained right conceptions 
 of Deity, it is impossible that there should be right 
 conceptions of duty. Where there is an unknown God, 
 there must, to a great extent, be an unknown law. Where 
 there are gross misconceptions of the nature and character 
 of the Godhead, there cannot fail to be corresponding mis- 
 conceptions of the highest principles of rectitude, and 
 grounds of moral obligation ; and these primary miscon- 
 ceptions necessarily pervade, with a vitiating influence, the 
 entire system of morals between man and man ; for man 
 
 CANNOT BE EIGHT WITH MAN, IF HE IS NOT RIGHT WITH GOD. 
 
 I must now offer a few similar strictures on the moral 
 theory of that most acute and accomplished metaphysician, 
 and in many respects, according to the concurrent testi- 
 monies of all who knew him, most amiable and estimable 
 man, the late Dr. Thomas Brown. 
 
 I cannot but express the deepest regret, — a regret, in 
 which, I am confident, my auditors will fully sympathize, 
 that a mind like his, when speculating on subjects like 
 the present, with all the penetration of a discriminative 
 intellect, — and exhibiting the results of his specula- 
 tions, though at times with a needless prolixity and an 
 almost superfluous refinement of metaphysical abstrac- 
 tion, yet with all the rich elegance of a scholar's eru- 
 dition and a poet's fancy, — should have missed so widely 
 of the truth, as to me he appears to have done, in regard 
 to the principle or ground of moral obligation. And the 
 source of his error seems to lie in the very same quar- 
 ter with that of the errors of others, — the absence of a 
 just — by which I mean a scriptural — view of the present 
 character and condition of human nature. In the ex- 
 position of his theory of virtue, there is the same am- 
 plitude of illustration and excess of refinement, which I 
 
64 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 have mentioned as a general characteristic of his writ- 
 ings : — but it is not at all my intention, as it is not neces- 
 sary for my present purpose, to enter minutely into the dis- 
 cussion of all the points involved in it which might afford 
 room for comment and controversy. I have to do with the 
 system now, only in one point of view ; and the consider- 
 ation of it in this light will not require large quotation. 
 Two or three sentences, in the mean time, will he suffi- 
 cient. " Why," says Dr. Brown, " does it seem to us 
 virtue to act in this way ? Why does he seem to us to 
 have merit, or in other words to he worthy of our appro- 
 bation, who has acted in this way? Why have we a feeling 
 of obligation or duty when we think of acting in this way ? 
 The only answer which we can give to these questions is 
 the same to all, that it is impossible for us to consider 
 the action without feeling that, by acting in this way, 
 we should look upon ourselves, and others would look 
 upon us, with approving regard ; and that if we were to act 
 in a different way, we should look upon ourselves, and 
 others would look upon us, with abhorrence, or at least 
 with disapprobation. — It appears to us virtue, obligation, 
 merit, because the very contemplation of the action excites 
 in us a certain feeling of vivid approval. It is this irre- 
 sistible approvableness (if I may use such a word to express 
 briefly the relation of certain actions to the emotion that 
 is instantly excited by them) which constitutes to us, who 
 consider the action, the virtue of the action itself, the 
 merit of him who performed it, the moral obligation on 
 him to have performed it."* 
 
 You will at once perceive, that the objection mentioned 
 to the system of Dr. Hutcheson's moral sense, namely, that 
 it converts virtue into a mere relation, applies still more 
 directly and strongly here. According to this theory, there 
 is in virtue nothing essential, — and nothing, consequently, 
 
 * Lectures on tlie Philosophy of the Human Mind. Lect. LXXIII. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 05 
 
 essentially virtuous in the actions of a moral agent con- 
 sidered in themselves (in connexion, of course, with their 
 motives) : — but the virtue of the actions consists solely in a 
 certain relation between them and our minds, — the rela- 
 tion by which they give rise to the immediate and vivid 
 feeling of approval. This emotion, arising in the mind 
 instantaneously, instead of being produced by any pre- 
 vious judgment on the nature of the action from which 
 it arises, is, in the strictest sense, the foundation of our 
 moral judgment : so that we do not experience the feeling 
 of approbation because we judge the action right, but we 
 judge the action right because it excites in us the feeling 
 of approbation ; the feeling not being at all generated in 
 us from our contemplating the action as virtuous, but its 
 virtue consisting in its relative adaptation to excite the 
 feeling. It is this vivid feeling of approbation, which, 
 according to Dr. Brown, not merely indicates or ascertains 
 to us the virtuousness of the action, but constitutes it vir- 
 tuous : such is his own expression — it " constitutes the 
 virtue of the action itself, the merit of him who performed 
 it, and the moral obligation on him to have performed 
 it." The conclusion, that this resolves virtue into a mere 
 relation, and a relation dependent on the arbitrary con- 
 stitution of our minds, is a conclusion from which the 
 philosophic author of the theory is far from shrinking. 
 He admits it; he insists upon it; he argues it. "Virtue," 
 according to his frequently repeated statement, " being 
 a term expressive only of the relation of certain actions, 
 as contemplated, to certain emotions in the minds of those 
 who contemplate them, cannot have any universality beyond 
 that of the minds in which these emotions arise ; " it is 
 "nothing in itself, but only a general name for certain 
 actions, which agree in exciting, when contemplated, a 
 certain emotion of the mind;" — it is " a felt relation, and 
 nothing more." He defends this position against the advo- 
 cates of eternal and immutable morality, with what appears 
 
 I. F 
 
66 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 to me a very unsuccessful waste of metaphysical acumen, — 
 an acumen so minutely penetrating, that it seems as if it 
 could discern extension in a mathematical point. — In 
 showing that " right and wrong are nothing in themselves, 
 but words expressive only of relation," and vindicating 
 the position from the charge of making virtue something 
 altogether dependent and precarious, he says, " It is not 
 to moral distinctions only that this objection, if it had any 
 force, would be applicable. Equality, proportion, it might 
 be said, in like manner, signify nothing in the objects 
 themselves to which they are applied, more than vice or 
 virtue. They are as truly mere relations as the relations 
 of morality." But, surely, on such a subject, equality and 
 proportion are very ill-chosen examples, being terms that 
 necessarily involve in them the idea of relation to some- 
 thing else ; which cannot be affirmed of virtue and vice, — 
 of right and wrong in morals, without an obvious begging 
 of the question. It would have been more to the purpose 
 to have proved the converse, — that virtue and vice are as 
 really mere relations as equality and proportion are.* 
 
 From the position that virtue and vice are terms of 
 mere relation to the constitution of our minds, it appears 
 to be an immediate and unavoidable sequence, that, on 
 the supposition of another class of intelligent creatures 
 being differently constituted from us, — constituted with 
 such a nature that the vivid emotions of approbation and 
 disapprobation should be reversed, that which pleases us 
 offending them, and that which offends us exciting in them 
 the feeling of pleasure, — then that which is in us virtue 
 would in them be vice, and that which is vice, virtue. 
 Virtue being nothing in itself, but lying solely in the rela- 
 tion of the action to our emotions, I cannot see how the 
 inference can be evaded, that the relations and emotions 
 being changed and inverted, there must be a correspond- 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note G. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 07 
 
 ing inversion of moral obligations ; vice must become vir- 
 tue, and virtue vice. — Should it, in answer to this, be 
 alleged, that such a thing cannot be, — that the supposition 
 is one which can never by possibility be realized, because 
 we cannot imagine the Divine Being so to constitute 
 intelligent creatures as that, from their original nature, 
 vice should produce the emotion appropriate to virtue, and 
 virtue the emotion appropriate to vice, — vice the moral 
 sentiment of approbation, and virtue the reverse : — I 
 should reply, I grant the impossibility; but he who urges 
 it against my conclusion abandons the theory. For, if 
 virtue and vice, moral rectitude and moral pravity, are 
 expressive of nothing belonging intrinsically to actions 
 in their own nature, but simply of their relations to 
 created minds, I feel myself altogether incapable of 
 divining any reason, why these relations should not be 
 diversified in every possible mode of variety. Why should 
 it not be in the moral world, as it is in the natural? In 
 the latter, there are to be found adaptations, endlessly 
 varied, of the physical properties of matter to the struc- 
 ture, to the modes of life, and to the sources of enjoy- 
 ment, amongst all the different tribes of sensitive being, 
 and unnumbered relations arising from this divine ar- 
 rangement, indicative of the wise and mighty benevolence 
 of the great Creator. Why, then, should it not be thus 
 in the former ? Why should there not be a similar variety 
 in the adaptation of different moral natures to different- 
 modes of action, — each having its own peculiar " vivid 
 feelings of approbation," arising from different and oppo- 
 site sources, but all equally virtuous, because equally in 
 harmony with the original and divinely instituted relations 
 of each nature ? I can conceive of nothing whatever that 
 should have prevented this analogy between the beautiful 
 variety of the natural and that of the moral world, except- 
 ing the existence in the Divine Mind of certain immut- 
 able principles of moral rectitude, from which, in fixing 
 
68 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 the constitution of any of his intelligent creatures, it is 
 impossible for Deity, consistently with his own moral 
 nature, to depart. But every supposition of this kind, I 
 need hardly say, is subversive of the theory : — a theory, 
 which appears to me to involve a relinquishment of every- 
 thing that, in strictness of speech, at all deserves the 
 designation of moral rectitude. 
 
 Having offered these general remarks, which will be 
 found to have an immediate bearing on a subsequent part 
 of our subject, I must proceed to the objection which it 
 is my business at present specially to notice. — That that 
 objection holds good, in all its force, against the present 
 as against former theories, will be at once apparent from 
 the quotation of a single sentence. " We speak always," 
 says Dr. Brown, " relatively to the constitution of our 
 minds ; not to what we might have been constituted to ad- 
 mire, if we had been created by a different Being, but to 
 what we are constituted to admire, and what, in our pre- 
 sent circumstances, approving or disapproving with instant 
 love or abhorrence, it is impossible for us not to believe to 
 be, in like manner, the objects of approbation or disappro- 
 bation to Him who has endowed us with feelings so ad- 
 mirably accordant with all those other gracious purposes 
 which we discover in the economy of nature." — The ground 
 thus taken is in agreement with that contained in an ex- 
 tract given in a former Lecture, as well as in many other 
 passages, which, were it at all necessary, might be cited. 
 Before I proceed to apply to it my leading objection, I 
 cannot forbear taking notice of the remarkable expression 
 used by the writer, when he makes the theoretical suppo- 
 sition of our having been otherwise constituted than we 
 are. The expression to which I allude is, — " If we had 
 been created by a different Being.'''' Was there, then, after 
 all, in the philosopher's own mind, a felt recoil from the 
 idea, even in hypothesis and theory, of our having received 
 a different constitution in regard to our emotions of appro- 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 69 
 
 bation and disapprobation, from the sam.e Being? Was 
 there some secret " moral emotion," — some perhaps hardly 
 conscious misgiving, as if such a supposition would not be 
 quite in harmony with the immutable rectitude of the Di- 
 vine nature ? On the fundamental principle of the theory, 
 that virtue and vice are nothing more than simple rela- 
 tions, such recoil and misgiving could have no consistent 
 ground; and I would fain regard the expression as indicative 
 of the lingering of a sounder principle, in spite of his theory, 
 in the mind of the accomplished and amiable philosopher. 
 But the chief point of my present animadversion is, 
 what you cannot have failed to perceive, the entire absence, 
 in the statements quoted, of anything like the most dis- 
 tant recognition of degeneracy, or of innate moral pravity, 
 in the present nature of man. The principle is unequivo- 
 cally avowed, that the likings and dislikings, the emotions 
 of moral pleasure and moral aversion, experienced by that 
 nature, are to be regarded as a fair and sufficient index of 
 the mind of Deity. He speaks of " what we are consti- 
 tuted to admire, and what in our present circumstances 
 approving or disapproving with instant love or abhorrence, 
 it is impossible for us not to believe to be, in like manner, 
 the objects of approbation or disapprobation to Him who 
 has endowed us with such feelings." — Here, then, is still 
 the same radical mistake. The Bible doctrine of the apos- 
 tate and alienated condition of man, is not only not recog- 
 nised, but, in as direct terms as could well be employed 
 short of a flat and absolute denial, is contradicted. Hu- 
 man nature is regarded with complacency. It is so con- 
 stituted, that whatever it approves and loves, God approves 
 and loves ; and whatever it disapproves and hates, God 
 disapproves and hates. The theory, be it observed, bases 
 itself not on sentiments of approbation and disapprobation 
 merely, — but on feelings of love and hatred, of liking and 
 aversion. It thus assumes, as existing in human nature, a 
 coincidence and harmony between the dictates of the con- 
 
70 RADICAL EEEOB 
 
 science and the affections and inclinations of the heart. I 
 hesitate not to say, that, if this be true, the Bible is a fable. 
 Its most explicit statements respecting the present charac- 
 ter and condition of man are false ; and the stupendous 
 scheme of mediation and mercy, of pardon and regenera- 
 tion, which it is its chief purpose to reveal, is bereft of all 
 basis, and (its wisdom being founded on its necessity) is vir- 
 tually declared foolish, by being pronounced unnecessary. 
 It is of little moment whether these statements be at once 
 distinctly and honestly disowned, or put through such a 
 process of critical nitration as refines them all away, — be- 
 reaving them of their whole meaning and consistency, in 
 order to bring them to anything like harmony with the dicta 
 of a self-sufficient philosophy ; and so rendering the Book 
 which contains them, as a source of instruction to the un- 
 lettered and the poor, utterly inappropriate and incompetent. 
 In combating the doctrine of innate ideas, Mr. Locke, 
 following Aristotle, has compared the human mind to a 
 sheet of white paper, on which characters of different 
 descriptions may subsequently be written. By those phi- 
 losophers who deny the depravity of human nature, the 
 comparison has frequently been applied to the mind in re- 
 gard to its moral state, its dispositions and tendencies. It 
 will be a juster comparison, if, in this respect, we liken the 
 mind to a sheet of paper, on which have been written cha- 
 racters in sympathetic ink, which are not discernible by 
 the eye, till, by approximation to the fire, or by some ap- 
 propriate chemical application, they are brought out into 
 legible distinctness. So it is with the principles of evil in 
 infancy. "We may not, for a time, be sensible of their pre- 
 sence ; and may be delighted with the smiling loveliness 
 of the inoffensive babe. But the principles are there ; and 
 require only the influence of circumstances to bring them 
 into practical and visible manifestation, — a manifestation, 
 which, to the eye of even a superficial observer, commences 
 at a very early period. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 71 
 
 Philosophers of the class referred to (when they think it 
 worth their while to advert to revelation at all), we are not 
 surprised to find endeavouring to bring the representations 
 of the Apostle Paul into accordance with their own, by ex- 
 plaining the affirmation that " the carnal mind is enmity 
 against God," as without doubt having reference to such 
 profligate sensualists as, by a long course of vicious indul- 
 gence, have deteriorated and debased their nature, have 
 allowed their appetites to get the ascendency of their 
 reason and their moral principles, have subjected the soul 
 to the body, the spirit, with its exquisite powers and divine 
 sensibilities, to the dominion of the flesh. If the Apostle's 
 testimony is not openly and honestly discarded, (which 
 would be by far the more manly part,) he must, on no 
 account, be allowed, under the designation of "the carnal 
 mind," to mean human nature universally, far less human 
 nature in the unsophisticated simplicity, and undebauched 
 innocence, in which it is born into the world. The " carnal 
 mind " must not be regarded as at all comprehensive of 
 the species, but only of some occasional, and, it may be 
 granted, too frequent varieties. It expresses not the 
 generic character, but only the exception : not what man- 
 kind are, but what individual men become. It is in this 
 way that the plainest and most unequivocal statements of 
 the word of the living God are too frequently dealt with ; — 
 not verbally denied, yet really disbelieved, — and, instead of 
 being explained, explained away. It is clear as noon, that 
 the system of which I am now speaking, and the Bible 
 doctrine of human depravity, cannot possibly exist to- 
 gether. The system has been framed altogether inde- 
 pendently of any such doctrine. There is not the remotest 
 recognition of it. The introduction of it would displace 
 the very key- stone of the arch, and bring the whole fabric 
 to ruins. Had Dr. Brown viewed man as at all sustaining 
 the character of a fallen creature, whose moral principles 
 and feelings are corrupt and vitiated, it would have been 
 
72 EADICAL EKE0R 
 
 impossible for him to frame his theory. It could have had 
 no basis in his mind on which to rest ; and, if the doctrine 
 of human depravity, how obnoxious soever to the scorn of 
 philosophy, be indeed a truth, then is its very foundation 
 laid in error; or rather, the entire structure is no better 
 than an aerial castle, splendid but visionary, the day-dream 
 of a philosophic reverie. 
 
 Permit me, in the remainder of this Lecture, to call 
 your attention to another, and only another system, and to 
 examine it on the same principle, — I mean the system 
 which places the foundation and the criterion of virtue in 
 
 UTILITY. 
 
 Mr. Hume's definition of virtue makes it coincident 
 with whatever is agreeable and useful to ourselves and 
 others ; — to ourselves without injury to others, and to 
 others without injury to ourselves. Be it remembered, 
 that, in tbe nomenclature of this philosopher, pleasure 
 and utility were limited in their import to the present 
 life ; there being, according to him, no futurity of con- 
 scious existence beyond its termination. In this respect 
 it corresponds with the Epicurean theory, adverted to in a 
 former lecture ; although, in admitting into its estimate of 
 utility what is agreeable to others as well as to ourselves, 
 it has less in it than that theory of the element of selfish- 
 ness. — Mr. Hume's definition has been conceived by some 
 to involve in it a confounding of things that are in their 
 nature essentially different. If virtue, it has been alleged, 
 consists in utility, then whatever is useful ought to be 
 virtuous ; from which it seems to follow, that in the mind 
 of the hungry man there should be associated a strong 
 sentiment of moral approbation with a comfortable meal, 
 and in the mind of the man of science with a spinning- 
 jenny or a steam-engine. Dr. Adam Smith, Dr. Brown, 
 and others, have urged this objection strongly; the former 
 of these two philosophers summing up what he says in 
 the pithy statement, that according to the system which is 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 73 
 
 founded on such a definition, "we have no other reason 
 for praising a man than that for which we commend a 
 chest of drawers." At one time I was more than disposed 
 to acquiesce in the validity of this objection. Now it, I 
 confess, appears to my mind in a different light. Mr. 
 Hume, I apprehend, hardly gets justice in it. It ought, 
 in the whole discussion, to he previously understood and 
 assumed, that when we treat of virtue, we treat of what 
 relates, exclusively, to the feelings and actions of living, 
 conscious, voluntary agents. Much that is physically useful 
 may be found in the natural world ; but we do not 
 associate with the utility any conceptions of virtue, for the 
 simple reason, that it is not found in that department of 
 nature to which all our ideas of virtue are previously 
 understood to be restricted. When from the admission 
 that in the department of physics utility is the standard of 
 value, the inference is deduced, that in the department 
 of morals utility is not the standard of approbation, there is 
 an obvious fallacy : — nor is the conclusion less fallacious, 
 that because, in the department of morals, utility is the 
 ground of approbation, the same approbation must ac- 
 company the perception of utility in the department of 
 physics. It is surely more than conceivable, that, in two 
 departments so essentially different, the sentiment pro- 
 duced by the perception of utility in the one may be very 
 far from analogous to that produced by the perception of 
 utility in the other. It is far from being a legitimate 
 sequence, that because the usefulness of a steam-engine is 
 the consideration on account of which we value it, there- 
 fore the usefulness of the action of a moral agent is not 
 and cannot be the consideration on account of which we 
 approve it ; — or that, because we approve the action of a 
 voluntary agent on account of its utility, therefore, wher- 
 ever we discover utility, whether it be the result, of the 
 action of such an agent or not, we must experience the 
 same kind of approbation. Dr. Brown reasons thus : — 
 
74 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 " It is evidently, then, not mere utility which constitutes 
 the essence of virtue, or which constitutes the measure of 
 virtue ; since we feel, for the most useful inanimate 
 objects, even when their usefulness is to continue as long 
 as the whole race of beings that from age to age are to be 
 capable of profiting by them, no emotions of the kind 
 which we feel when we consider the voluntary actions of 
 those who are capable of knowing and willing the good 
 which they produce. A benevolent man and a steam- 
 engine may both be instrumental to the happiness of 
 society, and the quantity of happiness produced by the 
 unconscious machine may be greater, perhaps, than that 
 produced by the living agent ; but there is no imaginary 
 increase or diminution of the utility of the one and of the 
 other, that can make the feelings with which we view 
 them shadow into each other, or correspond in any point 
 of the scale." — " Though," continues he, " it is impossible 
 for the theorist not to feel the irresistible force of this 
 argument, when he strives in vain to think of some in- 
 finite accession of utility to a mere machine, which may 
 procure for it all the veneration that is given to virtue, he 
 can yet take refuge in the obscurity of a verbal distinc- 
 tion. Utility, he will tell us, is not in every instance 
 followed by this veneration, it is only utility in the actions 
 of living beings that is followed by it ; and when even all 
 the actions of living beings are shown not to produce it, 
 but only such actions as had in view that moral good 
 which we admire, he will consent to narrow his limitation 
 still more, and confine the utility which he regards as the 
 same with virtue, to certain voluntary actions of living 
 beings. Does he not perceive, however, that in making 
 these limitations, he has conceded the very point in 
 question? He admits that the actions of men are not 
 valued merely as being useful, in which case they must 
 have ranked in virtue with all things that are useful, 
 exactly according to their place in the scale of utility, but 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. To 
 
 for something which may be useful, yet which merely as 
 useful would never have excited the feelings which it 
 excites when considered as a voluntary choice of good."* 
 
 In all this, however plausible, (and plausible I admit it 
 to be,) there appears to me a lurking fallacy. In such 
 discussions, as I have already said, it should on all hands 
 be previously understood, that virtue, independently of 
 every question about the ground of its approvableness, 
 belongs exclusively to the department of voluntary agency; 
 that consciousness and voluntariness are essential to its 
 nature, whatever be the peculiarity in it that excites the 
 sentiment of approbation. Neither consciousness nor 
 voluntariness is itself that peculiarity; these being com- 
 mon to moral actions generally, the evil as well as the 
 good. What then is it? Is it utility? No, it is alleged ; 
 else it would follow, that whatever is useful would be 
 virtuous. But this is a non-sequitur. If it be previously 
 understood, as in all reason it ought to be, that virtue 
 belongs exclusively to the department of rational and 
 voluntary agency, then to allege that because it is its 
 utility that renders approvable an action within this depart- 
 ment, therefore whatever is useful must in the same sense 
 be approvable, though without this department, is a palpable 
 sophism : — because, although it may have the common 
 property of usefulness, it has not the special property of 
 voluntariness. When Dr. Brown says, in the preceding 
 citation, " The theorist admits that the actions of men 
 are not valued merely as useful, in which case they must 
 have ranked in virtue with all things that are useful, 
 exactly according to their place in the scale of utility ; but 
 for something which may be useful, or rather which is 
 useful, yet which merely as useful never could have 
 excited the feelings which it excites when considered as 
 a voluntary choice of good;" what does he superadd to 
 
 * Lecture LXXVII. 
 
7G RADICAL ERROR 
 
 utility as necessary to the excitement of moral approbation ? 
 Is there any thing more than voluntariness ? Yet it is not 
 in the voluntariness that the virtue consists : for, to render 
 an action virtuous, or capable of " exciting vivid moral 
 emotions," it must not only be a voluntary choice, but a 
 " voluntary choice of good." Might not the theorist, then, 
 fairly retort, — is it not on account of the good which the agent 
 voluntarily chooses, that his action does excite the emotion 
 of approbation ? — and if it be, is not this the very theory of 
 utility ? — that in the actions of voluntary agents (in which 
 alone, any moral principle, whether good or evil, is to be 
 sought) the virtue consists in the good or benefit to which, 
 in the purpose of the agent, they tend? — If it be alleged 
 that by "good" Dr. Brown is not to be considered as 
 meaning benefit, but the quality of moral goodness in the 
 voluntary action ; then the question will still remain to be 
 asked and settled, icherein this quality of moral goodness con- 
 sists, — which is just the question of the entire controversy. 
 The language of Dr. Dwight, in replying to the same 
 objection — the objection that if virtue is founded in 
 utility, every tiling which is useful must so far be virtuous 
 — is indignantly strong ; yet it does not seem without 
 reason: — "This objection it is hardly necessary to 
 answer. Voluntary usefulness is the only virtue. A 
 smatterer in moral philosophy knows, that understanding 
 and will are necessary to the existence of virtue. He who 
 informs us, that if virtue is founded on utility, animals, 
 vegetables, and minerals, the sun, the moon, and the 
 stars, must be virtuous so far as they are useful, is either 
 disposed to trifle with mankind for their amusement, or 
 supposes them to be triflers."* 
 
 I have been led to offer these remarks in justice to the 
 theory. Impartiality seemed to require them. But let no 
 one from this imagine that I am arguing in its support. 
 
 * Dwight's Theology. Sermon XCIX.— Notes and Illustrations. Note H. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 77 
 
 Associating with it the conceptions of utility and agree- 
 ableness entertained by Mr. Hume, — conceptions that 
 neither rose to God nor extended into eternity, but were 
 bounded by the present benefit and present enjoyment 
 of the creature, the principle of it is one which, both in 
 littleness and in laxity, is worthy of a place beside the 
 system of universal and dreary scepticism in which he 
 sought to involve all the departments of metaphysical 
 science. In confining the agreeable and the useful to 
 that life which " as a vapour endureth for a little and then 
 vanisheth away," it is unworthy the possessor of a nature, 
 which, though fallen, is still immortal, and still, when its 
 obliquity of disposition is corrected, capable of such lofty 
 aspirings, and of such divine and eternal joys : — and in 
 constituting men themselves the judges of the agreeable 
 and the useful, and identifying virtue with whatever 
 promises to contribute to their own and one another's 
 pleasure and advantage, it gives the sanction of a plenary 
 indulgence to every appetite and desire, whose present 
 gratification holds out this promise. What a maxim for 
 the rule of conduct to a depraved creature ! that the only 
 question he has to ask is, what is agreeable or what is 
 useful to himself, with the sole restriction that his own 
 gratification do not interfere, in the way of prevention or 
 diminution, with the gratification of others !— that there is 
 nothing whatever, either to oblige him to one course or to 
 restrain him from another, beyond the single consideration 
 of what he likes, provided the indulgence of his liking 
 does no injury to his fellow-men ! This is to constitute 
 the propensities of man's apostate nature, and his calcula- 
 tions of benefit under all the biassing sway of these 
 propensities, the criterion of moral rectitude : — in other 
 words, it is to reduce moral rectitude to nothing more 
 than a name. For since present pleasure and profit may 
 arise, at sundry times and under varying circumstances, 
 from different and even opposite actions and courses 
 
78 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 of conduct, vice and virtue become, by this means, in 
 themselves indifferent ; the good or the evil in either 
 being in no case absolute, but merely relative to their 
 present effects. 
 
 But the Utilitarian system has been maintained on 
 higher and more extended grounds than those of Mr. 
 Hume's contracted and heartless scepticism. It has been 
 held and vindicated by those who, in estimating the 
 happiness of the individual, take into account the whole 
 extent of his immortal being, — and who, moreover, with 
 individual benefit associate the general good of the uni- 
 verse. — These, it must be admitted, are high and im- 
 portant ends. Next to the glory of the Divine Being 
 himself (which of necessity stands first, there being 
 nothing to which, without impiety, we can fancy it to give 
 place) we cannot conceive of any ends either prior or 
 superior to the happiness of immortal intelligences, and 
 the well-being of the entire creation. Still, however, it 
 remains a question, how far conduciveness even to these 
 is what properly constitutes virtue or moral rectitude. 
 Instead of its conduciveness to good constituting its 
 essential nature, — from its essential nature may arise its 
 conduciveness to good. High as the ends are which have 
 been mentioned, they are still, (as may be noticed more 
 fully hereafter,) even although embracing the universe and 
 eternity, far short of the full and legitimate acceptation of 
 the term utility ; which, in the estimate of final causes, 
 ought to be understood as rising from the created to the 
 uncreated, and, along with the good of the universe, 
 embracing the glory of the Godhead. When so under- 
 stood, it will certainly follow, that whatever really conduces 
 to these two great ends must be good ; because in these two 
 ends there is an exhaustion of all that is imaginable by 
 our minds ; — the Godhead and the universe comprehend- 
 ing all that exists. But the inquiry which even then, as I 
 have just hinted, will remain, is this — whether virtue is 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 79 
 
 good because it conduces to these ends, or whether it does 
 not necessarily conduce to these ends because it is good : — 
 in other words, whether the system, even in this loftiest 
 and most enlarged view of it, goes far enough back ; — 
 whether there be not ultimate principles of moral recti- 
 tude, necessary and eternal, existing previously to all 
 possible trial and manifestation of their tendencies ; and 
 whether the actual evolution of the goodness of those 
 tendencies, commencing of course with the earliest date of 
 creation, instead of being what essentially constitutes 
 moral rectitude itself, ought not rather to be regarded 
 as the native and appropriate result of the principles of 
 such rectitude, and, by consequence, to a mind capable of 
 applying it, a fair and decisive test of what is in accordance 
 with those principles. 
 
 But what I have at present specially to insist upon is, 
 the utter incompetency of man, on the supposition that 
 utility were admitted to be both the principle and the 
 criterion of rectitude, to apply the criterion, or to be judge 
 of such utility. Even if man were sinless, the incom- 
 petency might be predicated of him, on the ground of the 
 vastness of the subject, and the limitation of his faculties 
 and of his means of observation. Of such a creature, 
 even when free of all contracting and corrupting influence, 
 how narrow must be the conceptions of what is conducive 
 to the good of the universe, and to the glory of its Maker ! 
 The phrases, like others formerly noticed, are easily 
 uttered ; and, aided as we are by what we already know 
 from God himself, we are apt to fancy that we understand 
 them ; but the observation made about " eternal fitnesses " 
 is not less applicable to these phrases ; they are of bound- 
 less import, altogether beyond the grasp of any intellect 
 but that by which the universe in all its amplitude, and 
 Godhead in all its infinitude, can be fully comprehended. 
 If, then, on such a subject, the conceptions even of a holy 
 creature must be so inadequate ; how biassed, how various, 
 
80 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 how inconsistent, how frequently pernicious, must those 
 be of a creature under the dominion of moral pravity ! 
 How partial, and many a time how false, are the notions 
 of such a creature, of what constitutes, and of what may 
 be conducive to, his own benefit ! And how inexpressibly 
 foolish, then, the idea of leaving to the determination of 
 such a creature what will best promote the interests of 
 the universe ! — a creature, who knows but little of his 
 own world, diminutive as it is amid the immensity of 
 creation, — and who, with regard to the constitution of 
 other worlds, and the conditions and characters of their 
 inhabitants, is unavoidably and profoundly ignorant ; a 
 creature, too, in whose perverted mind the glory of Deity 
 is little understood and less regarded, and whose dege- 
 nerate principles, even were this knowledge much more 
 extensive than it is, cannot but vitiate and invalidate all 
 his general conclusions. In short, there is here, as in 
 former cases, the same fundamental objection. Even if 
 the theory were, in the principle of it, correct ; still, if the 
 application of it is to lie with man, the expectation of a 
 satisfactory result must be equally vain and presumptuous. 
 I can imagine nothing more wildly preposterous, than the 
 setting of such a creature, imbued throughout with the 
 taint of moral apostasy, to investigate and settle the 
 essential principles of moral rectitude, by determining 
 questions relative to the good of the universe, while every 
 day and every hour are convicting him of numberless and 
 miserable mistakes in the limited question of what is most 
 conducive to his own ! — Even Dr. Brown, with no such 
 views of human nature, admits the incompetency of a 
 creature with faculties so limited, for settling principles of 
 which the range is so boundless : — " The coincidence of 
 general good," says he, " with those particular affections 
 which are felt by us to be virtuous, is, indeed, it must be 
 admitted, a proof that this general good has been the 
 object of some being who has adapted them to each other c 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 81 
 
 But it was of a Being far higher than man — of him who 
 alone is able to comprehend the whole system of things ; 
 and who allots to our humbler faculties and affections 
 those partial objects which alone they are able to compre- 
 hend ; giving us still, however, the noble privilege 
 
 To join 
 
 Our partial movement with the master- -wheel 
 Of the great world, and serve that sacred end, 
 Which he, the unerring Reason, keeps in view.' " * 
 
 — That man, like all the other creatures of God, has sub- 
 served the " sacred end " that is kept in view by the infinite 
 and " unerring Eeason," it were impious to question. But, 
 alas ! how has this been ? Not by a voluntary and holy 
 co-operation of the subject creature with the supreme and 
 rightful Governor ; but by that Governor's having, in 
 wisdom and love, availed himself of the apostasy of the 
 creature, to present to the wondering universe a mani- 
 festation, the most stupendous in glory and delightful in 
 interest, of his own all-perfect character ; thus promoting 
 the great purposes of his moral government, and rearing 
 on the ruins of human nature a magnificent temple to his 
 praise ; — a Temple, towards which, for aught we can tell, 
 the eyes of an intelligent universe may look in their 
 adorations, just as from all countries of the world through 
 which they were scattered, the eyes of the chosen people 
 of Israel were turned towards the Sanctuary of Jehovah at 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 It is my intention to devote the next Lecture to an 
 examination of the moral system of Bishop Butler, assign- 
 ing at the same time my reasons for so doing : after which 
 our way will be clear for the more direct discussion of 
 what we conceive to be the truth on the interesting ques- 
 tions at issue. 
 
 * Lecture LXXTII. 
 
LECTURE IV. 
 
 THE MORAL SYSTEM OF BISHOP BUTLER. 
 
 " For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things 
 contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto them- 
 selves." — Romans ii. 14. 
 
 Eespecting the various theories which, in former Lec- 
 tures, we have had under our brief review, it has been my 
 object to show you, that they are all chargeable with the 
 twofold fallacy mentioned at the outset of my strictures, 
 and are all alike vitiated by it ; — namely, that in each one 
 of them, the human nature is assumed as the standard by 
 which virtue is to be estimated, and man, the possessor of 
 that nature, as the judge by whom the estimate is to be 
 made : whereas, if man is a fallen and morally depraved 
 creature, the standard is fallacious, and the judge incom- 
 petent ; the source of the information deceptive, and the 
 theorist himself, who uses it, a subject of the deceptive 
 influence. — Yet even by philosophical divines, justly es- 
 teemed evangelical, there has at times been discovered 
 rather more than enough of a disposition to give in to 
 such modes of reasoning; — to forget and overlook the 
 #rand fact of man's degeneracy, or at least, while they are 
 framing from the human nature their moral theories, to 
 mitigate its extent, and soften down its virulence. With 
 how much of explanation, for example, must such a state- 
 ment as the following be taken (and yet it is comparatively 
 a moderate one) to bring it to clear and full congruity with 
 the Bible account of man : " We approve or disapprove of 
 
MORAL SYSTEM OF HETLER. 83 
 
 actions, not because of their tendency to happiness or the 
 contrary, but in consequence of the moral constitution of 
 our nature ; which constitution, as God is its Author, we 
 are to regard as furnishing the expression of his will. — He 
 who has formed us in his own image, has not rendered it 
 necessary for us to observe relations and to estimate 
 tendencies and effects, previously to our approving of an 
 action as right, or our disapproving of it as wrong : and, 
 being conscious that we love virtue and hate vice without 
 reference to consequences, merely because they are virtue 
 and vice, we justly infer, that it is not on account of their 
 consequences that virtue is lovely and vice hateful, that 
 the one produces the emotions of approbation and the 
 other of disapprobation." — There is a sense, and there is 
 a measure, in which all this is true : but, both in the 
 phraseology and in the principles of the statement, there 
 seems to me to be more of the professorial chair than of 
 the evangelical pulpit, — more of the human nature that is 
 eulogized by philosophers, than of the human nature that 
 is depicted and deplored by prophets and apostles. — 
 Would not one suppose, were we not otherwise aware of 
 the author's sentiments, that the nature of which he 
 thus writes retained the image in which it was formed, 
 and was still characterised by a native love of goodness 
 for its own sake, and a corresponding hatred of all that 
 is evil ? 
 
 As a fuller exemplification of the systems of philoso- 
 phical theologians, I have selected, for illustration and 
 comment in the present Lecture, that of the justly cele- 
 brated Bishop Butler ; a man to whose penetration, and 
 learning, and argumentative sagacity, Christianity is under 
 such deep and lasting obligation. In his " Analogy " he 
 has shown, with admirable skill, that the God of nature 
 and of providence is the same as the God of revelation ; 
 and that the principle of the objections, urged by infidels 
 against the latter, holds with equal force against all the 
 
84 MOEAL SYSTEM 
 
 intimations of Deity given by the two former ; so that 
 such objections, if valid in opposition to the authority of 
 the Scriptures, would be equally subversive of whatever 
 passes under the designation of natural religion, or of 
 pure theism : — and still further, that the identity of the 
 characteristics of the divine procedure, according to the 
 discoveries of revelation, with those which come before us 
 in the constitution of nature and the course of providence, 
 affords a corroborative evidence of the truth of revealed 
 religion. In presuming to offer any strictures on the 
 moral system of such a man, I would be understood as 
 speaking with the sincerest diffidence. It does appear to 
 me, however, that his scheme is defective ; and that its 
 defectiveness arises from the same cause to which we 
 have been tracing the errors of others^* 
 
 It is not my present purpose to enter into detailed con- 
 sideration of the various personal and social virtues, as 
 they are analysed in the discussions of this profound 
 
 * I feel the diffidence I have thus expressed the more becoming, when I 
 find, in a work published since this Lectui*e was delivered, Bishop Butler's 
 Sermons pronounced by an authority so eminent as that of Dr. Chalmers, to 
 contain " the most precious repository of sound ethical principles extant in 
 any language;" (Bridgewalcr Treatise, Yol. I, p. 68.) and the writer himself 
 designated "that great and invaluable expounder both of the human constitu- 
 tion and of moral science." (Ibid. p. 71.) Another high authority writes in 
 the following terms: — " There do not appear to be any errors in the ethical 
 principles of Bishop Butler. The following remarks are intended to point 
 out some defects in his scheme ; and even that attempt is made with the un- 
 feigned humility of one who rejoices in an opportunity of doing justice to 
 that part of tbe writings of a great philosopher, which has not been so 
 clearly understood, nor so justly estimated, by the generality, as his other 
 works." {Sir James Mackintosh's Prelim. Diss. p. 34.5.) The sentences to 
 which the present note is appended, were delivered before I had perused Sir 
 James's Dissertation, as well as Dr. Chalmers' Treatise. Like him, I have 
 spoken of Butler's moral system as defective more than erroneous : although 
 I would not by this be understood to mean, that I regard it, when tried by 
 the test of Scripture, as in every one of its principles immaculate. But even 
 in speaking of the defects of such a thinker and reasoner, although they may 
 not be of the same description as those specified by Sir- James, I feel relieved 
 in covering my seaming presumption under the sanction of so great a name. 
 
OF BUTLER. 85 
 
 writer, — or even of all the more prominent characteristics 
 of his system. The beautiful light in which he places the 
 question respecting the disinterestedness of the social 
 affections, we may have a future opportunity of noticing. 
 In the meanwhile, we have to do with his theory, only in 
 some of its still more general and fundamental principles. 
 
 "There are two ways," says this eminent writer, "in 
 which the subject of morals may be treated. One begins 
 from inquiring into the abstract relations of the things; 
 the other from a matter of fact, namely, what the parti- 
 cular nature of man is, its several parts, their economy or 
 constitution ; from which it proceeds to determine what 
 course of life it is which is correspondent to this whole 
 nature. In the former method, the conclusion is expressed 
 thus, that vice is contrary to the nature and reason of 
 things ; in the latter, that it is a violation or breaking in 
 upon our own nature. Thus they both lead us to the 
 same thing, our obligations to the practice of virtue ; and 
 thus they exceedingly strengthen and enforce each other. 
 The first seems the most direct formal proof, and, in some 
 respects, the least liable to cavil and dispute ; the latter 
 is, in a peculiar manner, adapted to satisfy a fair mind, 
 and is more easily applicable to the several particular 
 relations and circumstances of life."* The latter is the 
 principle on which the author proceeds in those of his 
 sermons that are particularly devoted to this subject, as 
 well as throughout his "Analogy," and in the Treatise on 
 Virtue appended to it. 
 
 The scheme of Butler, indeed, bears a very close resem- 
 blance, in its leading principles, to that of the ancient 
 Stoical school ; of which he adopts the phraseology, 
 only attaching to it a Christian commentary. It may be 
 designated the system of Zeno baptized into Christ. That 
 system, you will recollect, placed virtue in living according 
 
 * Preface to Sermons, pp. iii. iv. 
 
86 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 to nature ; nature, by one class of its abettors, being under- 
 stood indefinitely, and by another class with restricted 
 reference to the nature of man. It is in this latter sense 
 that the terms are to be interpreted in the scheme of 
 Butler. He repeatedly quotes with approbation, appro- 
 priating it to his own purpose, the language of the 
 ancients ; and pronounces their manner of speaking, when 
 they said that virtue consisted in following nature, "not 
 loose and undeterminate, but clear and distinct, strictly 
 just and true." 5 " The object of his three sermons "on 
 human nature, or on man considered as a moral agent," 
 is, (to use his own terms) " to explain what is meant by the 
 nature of man, when it is said that virtue consists in fol- 
 lowing, and vice in deviating from it ; and, by explaining, 
 to show that the assertion is true." " As speculative truth," 
 he says, " admits of different kinds of proof, so likewise 
 moral obligations may be shown by different methods. If 
 the real nature of any creature leads him and is adapted to 
 such and such purposes only, or more than any other, this 
 is a reason to believe the author of that nature intended it 
 for those purposes."! 
 
 To an objection which naturally suggests itself, and 
 which he specifies as having actually been made, namely, 
 that " following nature" is a phrase which "can hardly have 
 any other sense put upon it but acting as any of the several 
 parts, without distinction, of a man's nature happened most 
 to incline him," and is therefore " at best a very loose way 
 of talk," — he replies, with much, it is admitted, both of 
 ingenuity and correctness, by distinguishing between the 
 parts and the whole of any complex system. — He thus 
 instances in a watch. The quotation is somewhat long ; 
 but it presents a clear and explicit view of the principle of 
 his system : — " Suppose the several parts taken to pieces, 
 and placed apart from each other : let a man have ever so 
 
 * Preface to Sermons. + Sermon II. 
 
OF BUTLEK. 87 
 
 exact a notion of these several parts, unless he considers 
 the respects and relations which they have to each other, 
 he will not have any thing like the idea of a watch. Sup- 
 pose these several parts brought together, and any how 
 united ; neither will he yet, be the union ever so close, 
 have an idea which will bear any resemblance to that of a 
 watch. But let him view those several parts put together 
 in the manner of a watch ; let him form a notion of the 
 relations which those several parts have to each other — all 
 conducive, in their respective ways, to this purpose, — 
 showing the hour of the day ; and then he has the idea of 
 a watch. Thus it is with regard to the inward frame of 
 man. Appetites, passions, affections, and the principle of 
 reflection, considered merely as the several parts of our 
 inward nature, do not at all give us an idea of the system 
 or constitution of this nature ; because the constitution is 
 formed by somewhat not yet taken into consideration, 
 namely, by the relations which these several parts have to 
 each other ; the chief of which is the authority of reflec- 
 tion or conscience. It is from considering the relation 
 which the several appetites and passions in the inward 
 frame have to each other, and above all the supremacy of 
 reflection or conscience, that we get the idea of the system 
 or constitution of human nature. And from the idea 
 itself it will as fully appear, that this our nature, that is, con- 
 stitution, is adapted to virtue, as from the idea of a ivatch it 
 appears, that its nature, that is, constitution or system, is 
 adapted to measure time. What in fact or event commonly 
 happens, is nothing to this question. Every work of art is 
 apt to be out of order : but this is so far from being 
 according to its system, that, let the disorder increase, and 
 it will totally destroy it. This is merely by way of ex- 
 planation, what economy, system, or constitution, is. And 
 thus far the cases are perfectly parallel. If we go further, 
 there is indeed a difference, nothing to the present pur- 
 pose, but too important a one ever to be omitted. A 
 
88 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 machine is inanimate and passive ; but we are agents. 
 Our constitution is put in our own power. We are 
 charged with it ; and therefore we are accountable for any 
 violation or disorder of it."* 
 
 "Following nature," therefore, is not, in Butler's 
 system, to be understood as meaning, that we follow the 
 present impulse of every appetite or passion ; but that 
 we follow out the obvious design of that complex con- 
 stitution, of which conscience is the ruling power, — the 
 grand moving spring. In "an adequate notion" of man's 
 nature there must, as he expresses himself, be this 
 included, — " that one of the principles of action, con- 
 science or reflection, compared with the rest as they all 
 stand together in the nature of man, plainly bears upon it 
 marks of authority over all the rest, and claims the abso- 
 lute direction of them all, to allow or forbid their gratifica- 
 tion ; a disapprobation of reflection being in itself a 
 principle manifestly superior to a mere propension. And 
 the conclusion is, that to allow no more to this superior 
 principle, or part of our nature, than to other parts ; — to 
 let it govern or guide only occasionally in common with 
 the rest, as its turn happens to come, from the temper and 
 circumstances one happens to be in ; this is not to act 
 conformably to the constitution of nature, unless he allows 
 to that superior principle the absolute authority which is 
 due to it. And this conclusion is abundantly confirmed 
 from hence, that one may determine what course of action 
 the economy of man's nature requires without so much as 
 knowing in what degree of strength the several principles 
 prevail, or which of them have actually the greatest 
 influence."! 
 
 — "Every bias, instinct, or propension within, is a real 
 part of our nature, but not the whole : add to these the 
 superior faculty, whose office it is to adjust, manage, and 
 
 * Preface, pp. v. vi. + Preface, pp. viii. ix. 
 
OF BUTLER. 89 
 
 preside over them, and take in this its natural superiority, 
 and you complete the idea of human nature. And as in 
 civil government, the constitution is broken in tvpon and 
 violated by power and strength prevailing over authority ; 
 so the constitution of man is broken in upon, by the lower 
 faculties or principles within prevailing over that which is 
 in its nature suj:>reme over them all."* 
 
 From these extracts you will readily perceive, in what 
 sense the nomenclature of Zeno is to be interpreted, when 
 adopted by Butler. With him, living " according to nature" 
 is the same thing with living according to conscience ; con- 
 science, in the complex constitution of the human mind, 
 being the legitimate ruling principle. Hence he says of 
 man, that " from his make, constitution, or nature, he is, 
 in the^strictest and most proper sense, a law to himself:" 
 that " he hath the rule of right within," and that " what is 
 wanting is only that he honestly attend to it:"| — and, in 
 enforcing the authority of this natural monitor, — " Your 
 obligation to obey this law is its being the law of your 
 nature. That your conscience approves of and attests to 
 such a course of action, is itself alone an obligation. 
 Conscience does not only offer itself to show us the way 
 we should walk in, but it likewise carries its own authority 
 with it, that it is our natural guide, — the guide assigned 
 us by the Author of our nature. It therefore belongs to 
 our condition of being; it is our duty to walk in that 
 path and to follow this guide, without looking about to 
 see whether we may not possibly forsake them with impu 
 nity."I 
 
 Now I entertain no doubt, that this is a just account of 
 the original constitution of our nature, — that such is the 
 due subordination of its various powers and propensions, 
 — such the legitimate order of their respective operations. 
 But you can hardly fail to have been sensible, how little 
 
 * Sermon III. + Ibid. J Sermon III. 
 
90 MOEAL SYSTEM. 
 
 reference there is, in these representations, to the fallen 
 condition and consequently depraved character of this 
 nature. But let me not be misunderstood. I am far 
 from intending to insinuate, that the fallen and degenerate 
 state of man has no place in Butler's Theology. When 
 treating, in his " Analog}'," of the economy of redemption 
 by a Mediator, he speaks of " the world's being in a state 
 of ruin" as " a supposition which seems the very ground of 
 the Christian Dispensation," and argues, on this ground, 
 the reasonableness, from the analogy of Divine Providence, 
 of the scheme of mediatorial interposition. But he is one 
 of those to whom I have already alluded, as, in their 
 reasonings on morals, appearing at times as if they had 
 forgotten the characters of human nature which, on other 
 occasions, they have admitted : and I must be excused for 
 adding, that not only in this seeming forgetfulness, but 
 also in the vague generality of the terms in which human 
 degeneracy is usually expressed, and in the statements 
 given by him of the influence of the Kedeemer's atone- 
 ment, and of the conditions, on man's part, of acceptance 
 with God, there is evidence, that his impressions of the 
 real amount of this degeneracy, as existing in the moral 
 state and character of each individual man, were hardly 
 adequate to the unqualified and abasing representations of 
 the inspired volume. In the extracts which have just 
 been given from the Bishop's Sermons, we are certainly, 
 in a great degree, allowed to lose sight of the present 
 character of human nature, and are left to suppose it, in 
 its present state, such as by the Author of its constitution 
 it was designed to be. The various parts of the watch are 
 put together by the skill of the artist, each in its proper 
 j)lace, and all relatively adjusted to the production of a 
 certain effect, — the correct measurement of time. So is it, 
 according to Bishop Butler's theory, with human nature. 
 It is " adapted to virtue" as evidently as " a watch is adapted 
 to measure time." But, suppose the watch, by the perverse 
 
OF BUTLEK. 9 J 
 
 interference of some lover of mischief, to have been so 
 thoroughly disorganized, — its moving and its subordinate 
 parts and powers so changed in their collocation and their 
 mutual action, that the result has become a constant tend- 
 ency to go backward instead of forward, or to go back- 
 wards and forwards with irregular, fitful, ever-shifting 
 alternation, — so as to require a complete remodelling, and 
 especially a re-adjustment of its great moving power, to 
 render it fit for its original purpose ; — would not this be a 
 more appropriate analogy for representing the present 
 character of fallen man? The whole machine is out of 
 order. The main-spring has been broken ; and an anta- 
 gonist power works all the parts of the mechanism. It is 
 far from being with human nature, as Butler, by the simi- 
 litude of the watch, might lead his reader to suppose. 
 The watch, when duly adjusted, is only, in his phrase, 
 " liable to be out of order." This might suit for an illus- 
 tration of the state of human nature at first, when it re- 
 ceived its constitution from its Maker. But it has lost its 
 appropriateness now. That nature, alas ! is not now a 
 machine that is merely "apt to go out of order;" it is 
 out of order; so radically disorganized, that the grand 
 original power which impelled all its movements has been 
 broken and lost, and an unnatural power, the very opposite 
 of it, has taken its place ; so that it cannot be restored to 
 the original harmony of its working, except by the inter- 
 position of the Omnipotence that framed it. 
 
 The Bishop speaks of the legitimate supremacy of con- 
 science. — I shall not at present dispute the propriety of 
 the terms ; although I cannot but conceive that conscience 
 should rather be regarded as an arbitrator of legitimacy 
 amongst influential powers, than as the great ruling power 
 itself; that the supremacy amongst the legitimate princi- 
 ples of action in the human constitution should be assigned 
 to a power more directly moral in its own nature than 
 conscience ; and that conscience itself, if freed in its 
 
92 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 arbitration from corrupting influences, would determine 
 the supremacy on behalf of love to God, and maintain the 
 paramount rights of this principle to the throne of the 
 human heart. — But, assuming the correctness of the 
 Bishop's representation, "what I have at present to say is, 
 that, if human nature be in a state of depravity, conscience, 
 directly or indirectly, must partake of that depravity. If it 
 did not, indeed, there could be no depravity. If the ruling 
 power were right, all would be right that is subordinate. 
 But in human nature now, where, I ask, is conscience, in 
 the highest department of its exercise, to which we have 
 just alluded? — where is 1 " conscience towards God?" — 
 conscience as it relates to the claims of the Divine Being, 
 and as it ought to respond to those claims ? What are the 
 results of its authority ? What is the actual state of things 
 under its dictatorship ? — Let the speedy and universal loss 
 of the original knowledge of the true God, answer the 
 question. Let the polytheistic su]3erstitions of heathen- 
 ism, with all their fooleries, impurities, and cruelties, — let 
 the sceptical theism, and the presumptuous atheism, of 
 philosophy, — let the manifest and conscious ungodliness 
 of the whole race of mankind, — answer the question. 
 According to Butler, (and nothing can be more true,) 
 "wanton disregard and irreverence towards an infinite 
 Being, our Creator, are by no means as suitable to the 
 nature of man, as reverence and dutiful submission of 
 heart towards that Almighty Being." But an abstract 
 proposition as to essential fitness and propriety is a differ 
 ent thing from a statement of fact. We ask, what is the 
 matter of fact, as to the operation of conscience in this 
 particular? Has this presiding and ruling power in the 
 "nature of man" been found fulfilling its appropriate 
 function, inspiring right feelings, and dictating right prac- 
 tice, towards the one blessed Object of reverence, and love, 
 and homage, and obedience ? Does not the entire history 
 of our race, from the beginning hitherto, reply in the 
 
OF BUTLER. 93 
 
 negative? — And if conscience has failed here, we must 
 insist upon it that it has essentially failed in every thing. 
 It has proved traitorous in regard to the very first prin- 
 ciple of all obligation ; and it carries the spirit of this 
 treason against God into the entire administration of its 
 perverted power. — Even in its dictates towards fellow- 
 creatures, too, how sadly is it under the domination of the 
 appetites, and passions, and selfish desires ! — how con- 
 stantly liable to be swayed and bribed to wrong decisions ; 
 and how much in danger are even its right judgments of 
 being set aside by the power of such interfering influ- 
 ences ! It may be, and it incessantly is, tampered with in 
 a thousand ways. The question, therefore, on our pre- 
 sent subject, comes to be — how we can be sure of an un- 
 biassed verdict; — and how, from a nature of which the 
 principles are so disordered, and the aberrations, espe- 
 cially in the highest and most essential of all departments, 
 so prodigious, we can, with any assurance of correctness, 
 extract the pure and primary elements of moral goodness ? 
 It is not at all, whether conscience ought or ought not to 
 be the regulating and judicial power, and the appetites 
 and desires, the affections and passions, in subordination 
 to its authoritative jurisdiction. This was the original 
 state of things ; and so long as this state continued, man, 
 in "following nature," followed a sure guide, — a guide, 
 whose counsels, intuitively discerned, were all divine. 
 But when, in a discussion like the present, we proceed on 
 such a view of human nature, our argument becomes little 
 more than hypothetical. Human nature, in this view of 
 it, has now no existence. If it had ; — if it retained its 
 original character ; — if all were in the harmony of holy 
 principle, and under the direction of an inwardly-presiding 
 and never-resisted Deity ; — we should require no discus- 
 sions to determine either the principle or the rule of 
 moral obligation. But the question is, whether in human 
 nature as it now is we have sufficient data to warrant our 
 
94 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 assuming it as a standard from which to ascertain the 
 principles of rectitude ? Here, in my apprehension, lies 
 the principal fallacy of Butler's system. Virtue, according 
 to him, consists in "following nature:" but then the 
 nature to be followed is not the nature of man as it now 
 is : or, if it be, then, as formerly hinted, the conception 
 entertained by the theorist of the depravity of man, as a 
 fallen creature, must have been far short of the scriptural 
 representation of it.* 
 
 To Scripture, however, the appeal is actually made. 
 The authority of the inspired Apostle of the Gentiles is 
 considered as decisive in favour of the theory. The pas- 
 sage referred to is our text and context — Eom. ii. 14, 15: 
 " For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by 
 nature the things contained in the law, these, having not 
 the law, are a law unto themselves ; which shew the work 
 of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also 
 bearing witness, and their thoughts the mean while ac- 
 cusing or else excusing one another." It will be necessary 
 for us to consider, with some little attention, what is the 
 amount of meaning, in these remarkable expressions. 
 
 From the correspondence of the terms " who shew the 
 work of the law written in their hearts'" with one of the 
 promises of the New Covenant, "I will put my law in their 
 inward part, and write it in their hearts "\ as well as from 
 the difficulty which has been felt in applying such terms 
 to the persons of whom the Apostle himself had just before 
 drawn so dark and hideous a portraiture, (chap. i. 19 — 32,) 
 — some interpreters have conceived the whole passage to 
 have reference to converted Gentiles, — those in whom the 
 promise of the covenant, just quoted, had been graciously 
 verified. I shall not enter on any exposure of the fallacy 
 of this explanation, as I agree with Bishop Butler in 
 applying it to the Heathen, and the discussion of the 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note I. + Jer. xxxi. 33, 
 
OF BUTLER. 95 
 
 other interpretation would only lead me away from my 
 subject. 
 
 All who are acquainted with this apostle's writings are 
 aware, that, in speaking of unregenerate human nature, he 
 uses no gentle and measured terms. His unqualified tes- 
 timony is given in few words, but the words are full of 
 meaning : — they were adverted to, in a different connexion, 
 in our last Lecture ; but require a little additional com- 
 ment now : — " The carnal mind is enmity against God : for 
 it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can 
 be."* In the preceding context, he had divided men into 
 two descriptions : — those who " are after the flesh," who 
 "walk after the flesh," who "mind the things of the flesh," 
 — and those who "are after the Spirit," who "walk after 
 the Spirit, 1 ' who " mind the things of the Spirit." He 
 recognizes no intermediate, no neutral class ; so that all 
 who are not after the Spirit must be numbered amongst 
 those who are after the flesh. It requires indeed but a 
 glance of Paul's writings to satisfy any candid mind that 
 with him the distinction between the flesh and the Spirit 
 is the same as the distinction between unregenerate and 
 regenerate human nature. This " carnal mind," in differ- 
 . ent conditions, and under the influence of various modify- 
 ing circumstances, may assume an almost endless diversity 
 of aspects, some grosser, and others more refined : — but 
 under all its modifications, its generic character is "enmity 
 against God," — alienation of affection and desire from him. 
 The evidence of this enmity is stated to lie in the fact of 
 insubordination and disobedience, — " it is not subject to 
 the law of God ;" and the cause of the insubordination and 
 disobedience is, reciprocally, affirmed to lie in the enmity, 
 — alienation from God and subjection to his law being 
 necessarily incompatible — "neither indeed can be" If, 
 then, the primary and essential principle of the divine law 
 
 * Rom. viii. 7. 
 
96 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 is love to God, — and if the unregenerate mind is " enmity 
 against God," — it must necessarily be in a very restricted 
 and qualified sense indeed that the Apostle represents the 
 Gentiles as "shewing the work of the law written in their 
 hearts." When the promise of the New Covenant is ful- 
 filled in any sinner's experience, it is effected by Jehovah's 
 giving that sinner a heart to love him ; the transition, in 
 conversion, being, substantially, a transition from enmity 
 to love : — but, previously to this change, there is not in 
 any human heart the true principle of subjection to the 
 law of God. If, indeed, there were ; if in man's natural 
 state the law were still, in any thing like the proper 
 import of the expression, "written in his heart" — an 
 expression which includes a right disposition towards it as 
 well as the knowledge of its demands ; — if it were, as 
 Butler says of it, "interwoven in our very nature;" — we 
 might ask, what would be the value of the New Covenant 
 promise ? If the law be already there, why engage to write 
 it there ? 
 
 How, then, it will naturally be asked, comes the Apostle 
 to say of the unenlightened Gentiles, that they " do by 
 nature the things contained in the law," and that, in so 
 doing, they " shew the work of the law written in their 
 hearts ? " I answer, that if there be a sense in which his 
 words can be understood, that is at once sufficient for the 
 purposes of his present argument, and consistent with his 
 statements elsewhere, this is the sense which ought to be 
 preferred. Now, when he says " the Gentiles, who have 
 not the law, do by nature the things contained in the 
 law," it is not necessary to his argument that he be under- 
 stood as meaning either that they do all these things, or 
 that, with regard to any of them, the principles from which 
 they are done are such as to render the performance of 
 them truly good and acceptable in God's sight. It is 
 enough for his argument, that in their conduct, the Gen- 
 tiles do, in various ways, evince a sense of right and 
 
OF BUTLER. 97 
 
 wrong, — convictions in their minds of sin and duty. That 
 they have such convictions, such a sense of right and 
 wrong, is manifest, when at any time they pay regard to 
 the claims of humanity, of equity, of natural affection, and 
 of general henevolence, in opposition to the contrary prin- 
 ciples of injustice and selfishness. On the mind and 
 heart the law of God was originally written : — and although 
 by the fall the impression of the divine hand-writing has 
 been mournfully defaced, it has never been entirely obli- 
 terated. In regard, indeed, to right dispositions, — to the 
 primary principles of godliness, — to true, spiritual, holy 
 desires and affections, the obliteration is complete ; no 
 traces of the original characters remaining. But, how 
 entirely soever the heart may have lost the disposition to 
 keep them, the dictates of the law itself have not been 
 thoroughly erased, from the mind. The conceptions of 
 moral good and evil prevalent among the heathen have 
 been erroneous and debased ; and their erroneousness and 
 debasement have originated in the same cause with that 
 to which the Apostle traces their ignorance of God him- 
 self. The source of their dislike to " the only true God" 
 was, the opposition of his holy character to the pollution 
 and earthliness of their fallen nature : — and there is surely 
 no room for wonder, that the same depravity should have 
 produced the perversion and the partial oblivion of that 
 law, which is a transcript of his moral perfection. By all 
 such voluntary erasement of the law of God from their 
 hearts, deep guilt has been contracted. But still, as has 
 been said, the original impression is not gone : — and, 
 while they wilfully act in opposition to the sense of right 
 and wrong which is yet in their minds, they continue to 
 " treasure up unto themselves wrath against the day of 
 wrath." And that they do act thus perversely, the Apostle 
 had before, in the strongest terms, affirmed, — when, after 
 enumerating the abominations prevalent amongst them, 
 he adds — " Who, knowing the judgment of God, that they 
 
 I. H 
 
98 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 who commit such things are worthy of death, not only do 
 the same, but have pleasure in them that do them." 
 
 The case, then, stands thus. The Gentiles "have not 
 the law." When, therefore, they are condemned, it cannot 
 be for the violation of a law which they have not. But it 
 must be for the violation of some law ; for " where no law 
 is, there is no transgression." They have a law; a law 
 enforced by all that is made known of God in his works 
 and ways, and by all their daily experience of his un- 
 wearied goodness. This law is the law of Conscience. — 
 the natural convictions of right and wrong. The very 
 contrast, however, between the condition of those who 
 " sin without law" and are to " perish without law," and 
 that of those who " sin in the law" and are to be "judged 
 by the law," most convincingly shows, that, in the Apostle's 
 mind, the difference was very material, in extent, and 
 clearness, and certainty, between the dictates of the law of 
 conscience and those of the written law, — of the law of 
 nature and the law of revelation. This is evident ; and on 
 our present subject it is most important. If in the pre- 
 sent state of human nature " the work of the law were 
 written on the heart," in the same extent, and with the 
 same clearness and certainty, with which it is delivered in 
 the divine word, not only would the need of revelation be, 
 in this respect, lessened, but the difference in the amount 
 of evil desert and of consequent condemnation and punish- 
 ment, between those who "sin without law" and those 
 who " sin in the law " would so far be obliterated : — it 
 would cease to be imputable to a difference in the means 
 of knowledge, and would arise entirely from a difference 
 in the kind and amount of motive. But the whole scope 
 of the Apostle's reasoning requires us to consider it as pro- 
 duced by both. In regard to the former, — the knowledge 
 of the divine will, — I am aware of the cause of the differ- 
 ence. It is a criminal cause. The case is the same with 
 regard to the knowledge of God's will, as it is with regard 
 
OF BUTLER. 99 
 
 to the knowledge of God himself. Had men "retained 
 God in their knowledge," there would have been no need 
 for his using additional means to make himself known ; 
 and had they retained the will of God in their knowledge, 
 they would not have required a fresh promulgation of his 
 law. But the knowledge of God, and the knowledge of 
 the will of God, have been alike impaired by the entrance 
 of sin and the blinding power of depravity. The two, 
 indeed, (as hinted in last Lecture,) are so intimately con- 
 nected, that whatever affects the one must, in a similar 
 way, and to a similar extent, affect the other. It is im- 
 possible that there should be a right knowledge of God's 
 will without a right knowledge of God himself. The law 
 of God being a transcript of his moral character; where 
 there is ignorance of the character, there must be cor- 
 responding ignorance of the law. We cannot imagine 
 just impressions of the law co-existing with grossly cor- 
 rupt and unworthy conceptions of the Lawgiver. In the 
 portraiture of heathenism, accordingly, delineated in the 
 first chapter of the Epistle to the Eomans, there is a per- 
 fect correspondence between that part of it which respects 
 the knowledge of God, and that which relates to the con- 
 duct of life, — between its religion and its morality. The 
 former stands thus:— "When they knew God, they glori- 
 fied him not as God, neither were thankful; but became 
 vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was 
 darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, they became 
 fools, and changed the glory of the uncorruptible God into 
 an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and 
 fourfooted beasts, and creeping things. Who changed 
 the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served 
 the creature more than the Creator, who is blessed for 
 ever."* The latter is given as follows: — " Forasmuch as 
 they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God 
 
 * Eomans i. 21— 23, 25. 
 
100 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things 
 which are not convenient; being filled with all unright- 
 eousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, malicious- 
 ness ; full of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity ; 
 whisperers, backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, 
 boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, 
 without understanding, covenant breakers, without natural 
 affection, implacable, unmerciful : who knowing the judg- 
 ment of God, that they which commit such things are 
 worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure 
 in them that do them." * It is true that, in the last of 
 these verses, the Apostle admits, and even asserts, the 
 knowledge, on the part of the perpetrators of the enormi- 
 ties he had enumerated, "that they who commit such 
 things are worthy of death." There remained, unless 
 where conscience was thoroughly seared, natural convic- 
 tions of right and wrong, along with what may be called 
 traditionary apprehensions of that " death " which " the 
 judgment of God" had, in the beginning, denounced 
 against transgression. This "judgment of God" men 
 originally "knew," as they also knew God himself. But 
 just as after the entrance of sin, they " did not like to 
 retain God in their knowledge," so neither did they, as 
 they ought to have done, keep in humble and self-con- 
 trolling remembrance his judicial sentence against evil. 
 They rather chose to cast off all restraint. Instead of 
 " striving against sin," they strove to rid themselves of 
 every check to the commission of it; and, pouring con- 
 tempt on the threatenings of Heaven, and stifling the 
 forebodings of their own minds, they not only practised 
 those things which God had forbidden, but delighted in 
 all who would be their associates in rebellion and wicked- 
 ness. 
 
 There is a sense, then, let it be observed, in which I am 
 
 * Romans i. 28—32. 
 
OF BUTLER. 101 
 
 far from objecting either to the phraseology of Butler's 
 system, or to the principle which the phraseology involves, 
 — that virtue consists in living " according to nature." 
 What we are accustomed to call the natural state of man, 
 is; in truth, the most unnatural the mind can conceive : — 
 inasmuch as there can be nothing more directly at variance 
 with the essential and immutable nature of things, than 
 that an intelligent creature should be in a state of aliena- 
 tion from his Creator. But you will at once perceive, 
 that, whenever any such explanation as this is made, there 
 is a departure from the system, and a resolution of it 
 into another, — into that, namely, of essential and eternal 
 fitnesses. For then, "living according to nature" comes 
 to signify, not living according to the nature of man as 
 it now is, but according to the general nature of things. 
 Between these two, — the nature of things and the nature 
 of man, there was at his creation an unjarring harmony. 
 There was then a perfect fitness in his nature to the rela- 
 tions in which he stood to his Maker; — so that acting 
 according to his own nature was the same thing as acting 
 according to the essential nature of things. — Now, the 
 fault which, with all diffidence, I am disposed to find with 
 Butler is this, — that he professes to take human nature as 
 it is, expressly deducing the principles of his theory from 
 its present phenomena, — while yet, when he makes " fol- 
 lowing nature" his definition of virtue, he does not 
 actually mean following it in its present degenerate state, 
 but following it according to the right order and legiti- 
 mate subordination of its various principles, — which is the 
 same thing, in other words, with following it according to 
 its original divinely imparted constitution. — I grant him 
 the correctness of his distinction between power and rigid. 
 No more in the constitution of human nature, than in the 
 constitution of human society, is the former the legitimate 
 standard of the latter. There is, unquestionably, amongst 
 principles of action, a distinction in nature and kind, quite 
 
102 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 independent of their relative strength and actual preva- 
 lence. A usurper may depose a rightful sovereign ; but 
 the superiority of his power does not transfer to him the 
 right to rule, or impart legitimacy to his usurpation. So 
 may a principle of action gain the ascendant in power, 
 while it has not the ascendant in right. Its power may be 
 that of the usurper. And I am aware that of Butler's 
 theory the very fundamental principle is to be found in 
 this distinction. To follow nature, according to that 
 theory, is not to obey strength, but to obey right ; to yield 
 subjection, not to whatever principle happens, at the time, 
 to have the superiority in pmcer, but to those which have 
 the legitimate and permanent superiority in kind. The 
 distinction is just and important : — but still " following 
 nature" in this sense, is not following it according to its 
 present degeneracy, but according to its original rectitude. 
 In stating the different senses of the word nature, the 
 Bishop himself writes, — " Nature is frequently spoken of as 
 consisting of those passions which are strongest, and most 
 influence the actions ; which being vicious ones, mankind 
 is in this sense naturally vicious, or vicious by nature. Thus 
 St. Paul says of the Gentiles, who were * dead in trespasses 
 and sins, and walked according to the spirit of disobe- 
 dience,' that they were ' by nature the children of wrath.' 
 They could be no otherwise children of wrath by nature, than 
 they were vicious by nature."* — This is the second of three 
 acceptations of the word which he mentions ; and it is this 
 especially (the first being of little immediate consequence to 
 our present subject) that is contrasted by him with the third, 
 or that sense of it according to which the Gentiles " do 
 by nature the things contained in the law," "shew the 
 work of the law written in their hearts," " are a law unto 
 themselves." Every one, however, must instantly be 
 sensible, in how very limited a meaning of the terms they 
 
 * Sermon II. 
 
OF BUTLER. 103 
 
 who are admitted to be " vicious by nature " can be said 
 to " do by nature the things contained in the law ;" — or 
 those in whom " vicious passions are strongest, and most 
 influence the actions," to " shew the work of the law 
 written in their hearts." Yet manifestly, it must be with 
 the same limitation that they are understood to be " a law 
 unto themselves." They have, from nature and tradition, 
 such a sense or perception of right and wrong, as to 
 constitute a ground of responsibility : — and, moreover, 
 the degree in which this sense or perception is deficient 
 or perverted, is owing to the power and prevalence of a 
 depraved disposition of heart, and is, therefore, on the 
 same account as forgetfulness and ignorance of God, in 
 itself criminal. " Following nature," therefore, is not 
 following nature as it is, but following it as it iv as, and as 
 it ought to be : — it is obeying, not the power that is actually 
 dominant, but the power that bore the sway originally, 
 and whose deposition from rightful authority is the result 
 and evidence of man's apostasy from God." 
 
 "If," says Butler, "we are constituted such sort of 
 creatures, as from our very nature to feel certain affections 
 or movements of mind upon the sight or contemplation of 
 the meanest inanimate part of the creation, for the flowers 
 of the field have their beauty : certainly there must be 
 something due to Him himself who is the Author and 
 Cause of all things, who is more intimately present to us 
 than anything else can be, and with whom we have a 
 nearer and more constant intercourse than we can have 
 with any creature ; there must be some movements of 
 mind and heart which correspond to His perfections, or of 
 which those perfections are the natural objects."* If such 
 language be meant to express the sentiment, that as, by 
 the present constitution of our nature, the sight of the 
 inanimate objects of creation awakens emotions cor- 
 
 * Preface to Sermon, p. viii. 
 
104: MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 responding to their beauty, their sublimity, or their other 
 qualities, so does the contemplation of the perfections of 
 Deity actually give rise in our bosoms to suitable feelings 
 and affections towards him ; can any representation be 
 more at variance with those of the inspired Apostle '? If, 
 on the contrary, the representation be merely theoretical, 
 implying no more than that there is the same natural 
 fitness in the character of Deity to produce in the heart of 
 an intelligent creature the sentiments of fear and love, as 
 there is fitness in the beauties of creation to excite the 
 feelings of admiration and pleasure, — its truth will not be 
 questioned ; but its inapplicability must be manifest, to 
 human nature in its present state, as described in Scrip- 
 ture and exhibited in fact. If we admit the doctrine that 
 " enmity against God " is the essential character of fallen 
 humanity, we can only consider the fact — that whilst 
 " from our very nature " we are conscious of movements 
 of mind corresponding to the sights and sounds of inani- 
 mate creation, there is so mournful a contrariety between 
 the state of our hearts towards God and the affections 
 which his character is really fitted to inspire — as the most 
 striking and humiliating exemplification that could well be 
 presented of our nature's moral degeneracy. There is, 
 beyond all question, a fitness in the attributes of the 
 Godhead to engender in our bosoms the sentiments of 
 affectionate fear and reverential love ; a fitness not less 
 real or less perfect than the fitness of sublimity to awaken 
 awe, or of beauty to inspire admiration. That, in point 
 of fact, these sentiments are not engendered, — that the 
 Infinite Concentration of all Excellence is, On the contrary, 
 the object of aversion ; — this is what constitutes the very 
 essence of our moral debasement and guilt. What is 
 " due to Him who is the Author and Cause of all things " 
 is one consideration ; what is actually rendered to him is 
 another. It is not from the former but from the latter 
 alone that the present state of human nature is to be 
 
OF BUTLER. 105 
 
 determined. That which was due and that which was 
 rendered, were originally the same ; that which is due and 
 that which is now rendered are precisely opposite ; forget- 
 f ulness for remembrance, irreverence for fear, enmity for 
 love ! 
 
 Suppose, then, all to be admitted for which Dr. Butler 
 contends with regard to the obviously designed supre- 
 macy of conscience in the constitution of human nature ; 
 — still, if this original constitution has been deranged ; if 
 other principles have gained the ascendency; and if this 
 ascendency of the inferior principles over the superior is 
 not maintained in contrariety to the will or disposition of 
 the nature in which the usurpation has taken place, but, 
 on the contrary, it is the will or disposition itself which 
 has rebelled, and has laid conscience under arrest, so as 
 to silence its voice, and suppress its mandates ; how can 
 these voluntary slaves of a self-imposed domination be 
 expected to give forth a fair and impartial statement of 
 the claims and requisitions of the rightful sovereign ? 
 How are we to get the law of conscience, with any security 
 of its correctness, from those who are the subjects, by 
 choice, of the law of appetite and passion ? — Suppose we 
 had no other source from which to derive our notions of 
 the moral character of God except the moral character of 
 man, taken simply as he now is ; should we, on the 
 principle of judging of an author by his works, be able 
 to deduce from the contemplation of the creature the 
 infinite purity and infinite goodness of his Creator ? Most 
 assuredly not. In the constitution of man's nature 
 originally, there were the clear and delightful indications 
 of both ; but the aspects of his constitution now subject 
 our speculations on such subjects to the most distressing 
 and inextricable perplexity — a perplexity which the variety 
 of philosophical systems only renders the more confound- 
 ing and hopeless, and from which nothing can satis- 
 factorily deliver us but the discoveries of revelation. 
 
] 00 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 When we take these discoveries along with us, all is 
 consistent. When mankind are regarded as a race of 
 apostate creatures, — the world which they inhabit as a 
 revolted province of God's universal empire, — we have a 
 principle which affords a solution to all the perplexing 
 difficulties that present themselves in the phenomena of 
 providence. In the past history and the present condition 
 of the world, we meet everywhere with two opposite classes 
 of facts. There are evils endured : there are blessings 
 enjoyed. Without attempting at present to adjust the 
 balance, and to settle the disputed question of their 
 relative proportions, — to determine which of the two 
 preponderates ; it is enough for our present purpose to 
 observe, that both the one and the other, in large abund- 
 ance and endless variety, are incessantly obtruding them- 
 selves upon our notice. — In attempting to account for this 
 apparently anomalous state of things, — to find a principle 
 of reconciliation between these opposite and seemingly 
 contradictory sets of facts, we are not satisfied with the 
 Manichean theory, of two contrary presiding principles, 
 of good and evil, of benevolence and malignity, mani- 
 festing their respective natures in the administration of 
 their respective dominions, mutually counterworking each 
 other, contending for the pre-eminence, and alternately 
 prevailing. However naturally such a conception might 
 be supposed to suggest itself to . an ignorant mind, we 
 very soon perceive it to be pregnant with demonstrable 
 absurdity. Yet the ordinary philosophical solutions of 
 the difficulty are hardly more satisfactory. According to 
 these, the existence of evil is necessary to a state of 
 moral probation, — partial sufferings inseparable from the 
 operation of general laws, — and their existence, in the 
 present constitution of things, designed, by the all-wise 
 Author of that constitution, to work out the largest 
 amount of good on the whole : — the Sovereign Maker and 
 Euler having an indisputable right to form such a world, 
 
OF BUTLER. 107 
 
 to give being to such an order of creatures as its inhabit- 
 ants, and to appoint to those creatures such conditions of 
 existence as he saw meet ; — no creature having any title 
 to complain of the condition allotted to him, provided the 
 measure of good, either bestowed or placed within his 
 reach, preponderates over the evil; — and disease and 
 death having been admitted into the constitution of our 
 world, as useful and necessary parts of the great system 
 of moral influences, — of modes of trial, and means of 
 improvement. Such theories have long appeared to my 
 mind quite as little satisfactory as the two principles — the 
 light and the darkness, the god and the demon — of Manes. 
 They all proceed on the unscriptural assumption, that the 
 present constitution of things in our world is the one 
 which was allotted to it by primary and sovereign appoint- 
 ment. 
 
 Such is the case, especially, with the ordinary scheme 
 of moral probation. However plausible the lights in which 
 it may be placed, — however captivating the attire in which 
 it may be invested, — it is the offspring of error, or of very 
 partial views of truth. According to it, physical evils are 
 to be regarded as originally designed, in the general 
 arrangement of the system of divine administration, for 
 the trial and improvement of moral principles. But, 
 according to the statements of Scripture, all physical evil 
 is to be regarded as strictly punitive, — not in any case a 
 sovereign or arbitrary appointment, but a judicial and 
 penal infliction. That moral principles are now tried by 
 it, is true ; but this was not the primary purpose of its 
 introduction. There was no suffering, to try the princi- 
 ples of man, in his state of innocence : — and this of itself 
 should be enough to prove that to a state of moral proba- 
 tion suffering is not necessary. It is as a sinner that he 
 is a sufferer. He is not now a creature on trial for life, 
 but a criminal under sentence of death. The period of 
 man's probation, in the strict acceptation of the term, is 
 
108 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 past: — it was properly the time of his original innocence. 
 It was then that he was put upon trial, — upon trial for life 
 or death. Such probation there can never be again. 
 Man now, while in his natural state, cannot, in strict pro- 
 priety, be regarded as upon trial; inasmuch as in this 
 there would be implied a possible alternative, — namely, 
 that life might still be attained, as well as death incurred, 
 an alternative which, according to Scripture, was put out 
 of the question by the entrance of sin. When, under the 
 gracious administration of the gospel, sinners are "re- 
 newed in the spirit of their minds," — when by profession 
 they have their places amongst the spiritual children of 
 God, they become again, though not in the same sense as 
 at first, subjects of probation. The principles of the new 
 life are then put upon trial; — they are subjected to prac- 
 tical tests, by which their reality must be evinced, or their 
 hypocrisy detected. But while these principles are thus 
 tried, and by trial improved, — still, the sufferings are not 
 inflicted in sovereignty; they are all deserved. Though 
 corrective, they are still punitive. The very sin which 
 they are designed to remove is, at the same time, their 
 cause. There is displeasure in them as well as love. 
 The scheme of probation to which I am now objecting, is 
 that which appears to forget the true condition of the 
 world as under a curse on account of sin, and represents 
 mankind as if they were even now the subjects of an 
 original constitution, and still probationary candidates for 
 the curse or the blessing. And of this scheme, although 
 with occasional qualifications, which bring it nearer to the 
 representations of Scripture, there is more than a suffi- 
 ciency in the moral s} r stem of Butler.* 
 
 * The intelligent reader must have perceived that the theory of a slate <j 
 probation to which I have been objecting is the theory which assumes, or 
 seems to assume, that man is still in such a condition of trial, as that it is not 
 known till the trial is over, whether life or death is to be the issue. This is 
 what I take to be at variance with the scriptural representation of the state 
 
OF BUTLER. 109 
 
 But I wish you now to look at those seemingly contra- 
 dictory phenomena of providence which have been men- 
 tioned, and to compare them with the Bible account of the 
 actual condition of man as an apostate subject of God's 
 moral government. It is most interesting and satisfactory 
 to observe, how perfectly this account tallies with the 
 existing appearances. When we look at man himself, at 
 the world which he inhabits, at nature around him, in as 
 far as he comes at all into contact with it, or bears any 
 relation to it, — the scene that presents itself to our view is 
 precisely such as, even a priori, we might have anticipated, 
 under the government of such a Being as Deity is in 
 Scripture represented to be, — a Being who is offended, 
 yet kind, — judicially offended, but essentially and un- 
 changeably kind, — retaining unbounded benevolence in 
 the midst of righteous displeasure. Everywhere, and at 
 all times, we are environed with indications of the latter : 
 — and all the variety of suffering is at once and more than 
 accounted for, when it is regarded as the effect and mani- 
 festation of offended righteousness, or of the inevitable 
 tendencies of sin under his just and holy administration. 
 All the "ills that flesh is heir to" (would men but rightly 
 consider them) are so many memorials, incessantly re- 
 minding them of their being in a fallen state, and of the 
 place of their habitation being under a curse. But then, 
 the very Being by whom the curse has been pronounced 
 is good and gracious : — he has not renounced the kindly 
 
 into which man was brought by the original apostasy. — That his nature is 
 still tried; that the principles by which it is dominantly actuated are brought 
 to the test ; that this is done by the dispensations both of providence and of 
 grace ; that these show, and are meant and fitted to show, what is imhim, — in 
 the language of Jehovah to Israel, "what is in his heart, whether he will keep 
 God's commandments or no," — or whether he will be melted and won by his 
 love or no, — I am far from questioning. If any are disposed to denominate this 
 a state of probation, they may: — but it is at the risk, as it appears to me, of 
 confounding things that differ : for I submit — whether this be the sense in 
 which the phrase a state of probation is understood in the theories and moral 
 speculations of our philosophers and philosophical divines. 
 
110 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 tendencies of his nature ; he has not divested himself of 
 his infinite benignity ; he still " delighteth in mercy." 
 And, accordingly, on which side soever we turn our eyes, 
 ten thousand proofs of this also are before us. While all 
 the calamities which men hear of, and see, and feel, re- 
 mind them that the Being whom they have offended is 
 holy and just, a hater and a punisher of sin ; yet all is 
 not curse. The Sovereign Ruler "woos" his erring 
 creatures by his kindness, as well as " awes" them by his 
 judgments : 
 
 " though woo'd and awed, 
 
 Bless'dand chastised, a flagrant rebel still." — Young. 
 
 Eebels as we are, we live in the very midst of his munifi- 
 cence. " The earth is fall of his riches." " His tender 
 mercies are over all his works." Is not this mingled con- 
 dition of things, I ask you, precisely what we might ex- 
 pect to find, under the administration of a justly offended, 
 but kind and merciful Being, over a province of his do- 
 minions, which, though in a state of unnatural and base 
 revolt, he had not finally proscribed and abandoned ? — sin, 
 in ten thousand forms, sending up every instant to the 
 Eternal Throne, from all parts of the world, the call for 
 vengeance, and the inexhaustible and indomitable good- 
 ness of Jehovah still lingering to smite, staying the uplifted 
 hand of Justice, and in spite of the desert of punitive 
 retribution, still "kind to the evil and unthankful," still 
 " making the sun to rise and the rain to descend " on the 
 " children of disobedience," filling with good the mouth 
 which, instead of speaking his praise, blasphemes his 
 name, and pouring showers of blessing on the soil that 
 yields him nothing in return but briers and thorns ! — But 
 observe, my hearers : — In what is it, according to this 
 representation, that the indications are apparent of the 
 holiness and righteousness of the Supreme Governor? 
 Is it in the moral character of the creature ? — in its con- 
 
OF BUTLER. ] 1 I 
 
 formity to that of the Creator ? How can it be ? That 
 character is evil ; and evil in the work can never be the 
 index of good in the maker. The indications of this part 
 of the divine character are rather to be found in the very 
 sufferings which, on account of this evil, are judicially 
 inflicted on the sinning creature. In the character of the 
 creature himself we look in vain for the traces of the holy 
 purity of his Creator. In his original constitution these 
 traces were marked and prominent ; they were not then 
 mere traces indeed, they were the broad lines and dis- 
 tinctive features of his character; but in his nature as 
 fallen, even the traces of purity are lost. It is not there 
 that we can find them; it is in the procedure towards His 
 degenerate creature of the God whom his sins have 
 offended ; — in His providence as interpreted by His word, 
 and in the scheme of redemption as there exclusively 
 revealed. — And if, I repeat, in the present character of 
 man considered abstractly from the divine conduct towards 
 him, the moral excellence of his Maker is not discernible, 
 — ever fruitless, surely, must be the attempt to extract 
 from the elements of that character a correct delineation 
 of the principles of moral rectitude. Conscience, indeed, 
 as I have before admitted, does still continue, in fallen 
 human nature, as a witness for God and for his law. In 
 the midst of what is wrong, it bears testimony, with various 
 degrees of clearness and force, to what is right. But in 
 the highest department of all, its operation, we have seen, 
 is partial, erroneous, feeble, capricious, ineffectual. And, 
 in addition to this, it should be observed, that the moral 
 character of man consists, properly and directly, in his 
 disjwsitions ; not in the decisions of his judgment, but in 
 the inclinations and affections of his heart. Among these, 
 conscience does not at all rank. It has nothing in it, 
 strictly speaking, of moral goodness ; its exercise imply- 
 ing no spiritual taste or relish for true virtue, no disposi- 
 tion of mind to delight in its essential beauty. " If," says 
 
1 1 -2 :,IOEAL SYSTEM 
 
 Edwards, " conscience's approving duty and disapproving 
 sin were the same thing as the exercise of a virtuous 
 principle of the heart in loving duty and hating sin, then 
 remorse of conscience would be the same thing as repent- 
 ance ; and, just in the same degree as the sinner felt 
 remorse of conscience for sin, in the same degree would 
 his heart be turned from the love of sin to the hatred of it, 
 inasmuch as they are the very same thing." The two 
 things thus distinguished have frequently, it is to be 
 feared, been confounded, — the mere approbation of con- 
 science with the inclination of the will and the choice 
 of the heart. But the operation of conscience is com- 
 patible with the absence of every vestige of truly moral 
 principle. This is manifest from every day's observation 
 of human character ; and there will be the most perfect 
 exemplification of its truth in the place of future woe ; 
 where the clearest light of conviction, and the acutest 
 anguish of remorse, will co- exist with the most unsubdued 
 and inveterate alienation of heart from God and goodness. 
 There can be nothing, therefore, in strict propriety of 
 speech, morally good in conscience ; else there must be 
 moral goodness in hell. There, surely, although the 
 holiness and righteousness of the Divine Being are 
 apparent in the punishment and remorse of its inhabit- 
 ants, we should never be warranted in saying that in 
 their moral character there is a specimen or exemplification 
 of the purity of His nature. On the same principle, in 
 proportion as men, while on earth, are the subjects of 
 depravity, and destitute of the love of God and the 
 sensibilities of moral rectitude, must it be unreasonable 
 to speak of them as presenting, in their corrupt nature, 
 an exhibition of the holy excellence of their Creator. 
 And although, in the remaining testimony of conscience, 
 " accusing or excusing," approving the exercise of the 
 moral affections, and chastening the neglect or violation 
 of them, the Sovereign Ruler " has not left himself 
 
OF BUTLER. 113 
 
 without witness," — yet conscience, designate it as you 
 will, and describe its functions as you will, must still, 
 as belonging to a fallen nature, participate, directly or 
 indirectly, in that nature's alienation from God and good- 
 ness, and, on moral subjects, cannot with confidence be 
 depended upon for a sure and consistent deliverance. 
 
 It would have been quite relevant to the subject of this 
 discourse, and might even have served to shed upon it 
 a clearer light, to have considered a little more at large 
 the question, What is Conscience ? The answer to this 
 question, however, will find an equally if not a more 
 suitable place in next Lecture, of which the general 
 subject will be, the Eule of Moral Obligation ; and the 
 reservation of it till then will also produce a more con- 
 venient division of the two discourses in point of length. 
 I waive it, therefore, for the present, and conclude by 
 simply assuring my hearers, if such assurance be ne- 
 cessary, that I have been anxious to avoid doing any 
 injustice to a writer of such merited celebrity as Dr. 
 Butler; and that if in aught it shall be brought to my 
 conviction that I. have, however unintentionally, misre- 
 presented his sentiments, I shall be most happy to retract 
 and erase the error. May God, the only wise, and the 
 source of whatever deserves the name of wisdom to his 
 creatures, " lead us into all truth ;" so that " in his light 
 sve may see light ! " 
 
LECTURE V. 
 
 ON THE RULE OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 
 " Sin is the transgression of hvw." — 1 John iii. 4. 
 
 In the review which has been taken, in former Lectures, 
 I have left unnoticed various systems of morals, with their 
 respective varieties and modifications, partly to avoid repe- 
 tition and tediousness, and partly because the applicability 
 to them of the general principles which it was my object 
 to establish, is, without particular illustration, sufficiently 
 apparent. — Let us now see whether we can arrive at any- 
 thing more satisfactory. 
 
 I must recall your attention to the distinction stated in 
 the outset, between the principle or foundation, and the 
 rule or law, of moral rectitude. The latter is simply the 
 authoritative direction by which the conduct of the subject 
 of any government is to be regulated ; the former is that, 
 whatever it may be, in the prescribed action itself, or in its 
 tendencies and effects, on account of which it is that the 
 governor enjoins it. I shall begin with the consideration 
 of the rule or law. To some this may appear somewhat 
 preposterous ; such an order of discussion not being in 
 conformity to the natural order of subsistence ; inasmuch 
 as the principle must precede the rule, — and the consider- 
 ation on account of which a law is enacted, commanding 
 one kind of conduct and prohibiting its opposite, must be 
 prior to the law itself. I prefer this method, however, 
 first (because the law) if I may so express myself, lies 
 
.RULE OF MOKAL OBLIGATION. 115 
 
 nearest to us, and is that with which we have most imme- 
 diately to do ; — and secondly, because, by the consideration 
 and satisfactory settlement of this point, we may be the 
 better prepared for ascending to the higher and more ab- 
 struse investigation of the original principles of moral rec- 
 titude, the primary and essential elements of virtue. My 
 feeling on this subject is similar to that which I have ever 
 experienced in regard to another, of a different nature — 
 the decrees of God. On that subject, it has always ap- 
 peared to me our best and our only legitimate course, not 
 to begin with the purpose and reason forward to the event, 
 but to begin with the event and reason backward to the 
 purpose ; — renouncing all vain and presumptuous attempts 
 to go back in the first instance into eternity, and to read 
 the mind of Deity in its own light, rather to look to what 
 the Divine Being has done, and thence to ascertain, in 
 all cases in which he has not himself made them pre- 
 viously known, his everlasting counsels. — So, in regard 
 to moral obligation. If, by any legitimate process, we can 
 ascertain the law by which human agency is to be regu- 
 lated, this may be an assistance to us in our endeavours 
 to trace the eternal principles, if such there be, on which 
 this law is founded. We shall thus pursue a course, not 
 only more becoming the modesty of created intellects, so 
 liable to be bewildered and lost in indefinite abstractions, 
 but more likely, too, to conduct us to a satisfactory con- 
 clusion. 
 
 With regard, then, to the ride, or standard, by which 
 human conduct ought to be regulated, and conformity to 
 which is virtue, it appears to me, that there is one funda- 
 mental question, the answer to which leads immediately 
 to its determination : — it is the simple question, whether 
 man be indeed a subject of the government of the Deity? 
 — Now, I am not going to enter into any proof, either of 
 the existence of one God, or of his sustaining the character 
 of Moral Ruler of the Universe. These are points which I 
 
116 RULE OF 
 
 must be permitted to assume as settled data, — points on 
 all hands conceded by those who enter into any discus- 
 sions on the nature and obligations of virtue. Yet, if the 
 moral government of God be granted, and the consequent 
 subjection of man to that government, it evidently follows, 
 as an instant and unavoidable sequence, without even a 
 single link of intermediate reasoning to connect it with 
 the premises, that the rule by which his conduct is to be 
 regulated must be — the will of the Supreme Governor. — 
 The question with regard to the way or ways in which that 
 will is made known to his subjects — how they are put in 
 possession of the rule or law — is quite a distinct inquiry. 
 As a general and primary principle, it is to my mind 
 axiomatically evident, that the rule or law of the subject's 
 conduct can be nothing else than a declaration, in what 
 way soever imparted, of the will of the Sovereign Kuler. 
 The two propositions, indeed, that man is a subject of the 
 Divine Governor, and that the will of the Divine Governor is 
 his law, I cannot but regard as of identically the same im- 
 port. If there be a God, and if man, as a moral and respon- 
 sible agent, be the subject of his government, I confess 
 myself unable to imagine any answer but one. to the ques- 
 tion, What is the rule according to which he is to act, and 
 by which he is to be tried ? — the answer, namely, which has 
 just been given — the supreme will. I have noiclea of arriving 
 at this conclusion by a circuitous process of argumenta- 
 tion. The evidence of it seems to me to be involvedin the 
 evidence of the divine existence. If there be a God, he 
 must rule ; and if he rules, his will must be law. The 
 higher inquiry, — what it is by which that will itself is de- 
 termined, — is not the question for the creature, considered 
 simply as a subject of God's dominion. The difference, 
 in this respect, must be very manifest, between the divine 
 government and all the governments of men. In the 
 latter, the subjects may have a voice in the framing of their 
 own laws. This indeed is the case in all governments, 
 
MOEAL OBLIGATION. 117 
 
 where any portion is enjoyed of the precious blessing of 
 liberty; — absolute power being more than can safely be 
 entrusted to any hands but those of the Divine Being him- 
 self; — perilous even in the hands of an unfallen and sin- 
 less creature ; and in those of a creature whose nature is 
 under the sway of corrupt principles and passions, one of 
 the most tremendous of the curses of offended Heaven. 
 But the government of the Most High God it were impiety 
 even to think of as otherwise than uncontrollably absolute. 
 There is no will superior to the divine ; and the very 
 imagination, however transiently admitted into the mind, 
 that any of his subjects should have aught to say in deter- 
 mining the laws by which they are to be bound and tried, 
 would be nameless presumption. — Under any other govern- 
 ment than his, we cannot too strongly deprecate the idea 
 of the will of the governor being law; but under his, 
 whence but from himself can the law be conceived to 
 come ? * 
 
 To me, then, it appears, that, in all theories of morals, 
 in as far as the law or rule of duty is concerned, the 
 only legitimate inquiry is — What is the true way, or (if 
 there be more sources of information than one) what are 
 the true ways, of ascertaining, with certainty and correct- 
 ness, the will of the Supreme Legislator ? When, on this 
 part of the subject, these theories attempt anything else 
 than a satisfactory answer to this question ; — when they 
 proceed, or seem at all to proceed, upon the assumption 
 that a law may possibly exist and be discovered, — whence - 
 soever the discovery may be sought — superior to this will, 
 and independent of it ; — I can regard them in no other 
 light than as founded upon a basis of atheism. 
 
 If these principles be at all correct — and to me they 
 
 * It has been beautifully said by Dr. Clarke, " Governing according to 
 law and reason, and governing according to will and pleasure, are on earth the 
 two most opposite forms of government ; while in heaven, they are nothing 
 but two different names for one and the same thing." 
 
IIS RULE OF 
 
 appear entitled to rank amongst first truths, self-evident 
 elementaiy principles, — it must follow, that in any subject 
 of God's moral government virtue must consist in con- 
 formity to this will. Kecollect, I am not now speaking of 
 the foundation of moral rectitude, or of the question (whe- 
 ther we he competent to find an answer to it or not) why 
 is the divine will what it is ? I am speaking solely of the 
 rule or law of duty for his dependent and accountable 
 creatures. And in this view, it is not only our safest 
 ground, — it is our only legitimate and reasonable ground, 
 — that the virtue or moral rectitude of a subject of God's 
 moral government consists in conformity of principle and 
 conduct, of heart and life, to the will of the Governor ; — 
 a Governor who is necessarily supreme, and whose will, 
 to all his intelligent creatures, is infallible and unim- 
 peachable law. 
 
 That such is the light in which this subject is invariably 
 represented in the Scriptures, no reader of them, how 
 superficial soever, can fail to perceive. The comparison 
 of the words of our text with other three statements 
 equally brief, will bring out, clearly and summarily, the 
 doctrine of revelation on this interesting point. The 
 statement of our text is, that " sin is the transgression of 
 law." This, then, is the Bible definition of sin, or moral 
 evil. The other statements, analogous to this and arising 
 out of it, are Horn. iv. 15, — " Where no law is, there is no 
 transgression ;" Horn. v. 13, — " Sin is not imputed where 
 there is no law ;" and Horn. iii. 20, — " By the law is the 
 knowledge of sin." These four short sentences, or Scrip- 
 ture aphorisms, when connected together, present a view 
 as clear as it is concise, of the divine mind respecting the 
 rule of moral duty and moral responsibility to man. If 
 11 sin is the transgression of law," the consequence is 
 immediate, that, law and transgression being correlates, 
 where there is no law there can be no transgression of 
 law, and consequently no sin ; that where there is no sin 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. ] 1 
 
 there can be no imputation of sin, no guilt, no condemna- 
 tion, no punishment ; and that, in proportion to our 
 knowledge of the law of which sin is the transgression, 
 must be our knowledge of the amount of sin in our- 
 selves, or in others ; nor can there, on the part of the 
 creature, be any knowledge of sin at all, but in as far 
 as the law is known of which sin is the transgression. 
 And, what is most immediately to our present purpose, 
 the passages cited, which are only a brief statement of 
 principles that pervade the whole volume of revelation, 
 teach us the lesson, that sin is not by us to be sought for 
 in contrariety to any abstract principles of right and 
 wrong, — principles, which it is necessary for us, before w T e 
 can know wherein and to what extent we have erred, to in- 
 vestigate and discover: — it is simply "the transgression 
 of law," — that is, I need hardly say, of the law of God. 
 And, in conformity with this representation, sin and dis- 
 obedience, sinners and the disobedient, are, throughout 
 the Scriptures, invariably employed as designations of 
 interchangeable use, because of synonymous meaning. 
 And, on the grounds already very briefly adverted to, this 
 appears to be not only the dictate of Scripture, but, as 
 every dictate of Scripture must equally be, the sound 
 philosophy of the case ; inasmuch as the philosophy that 
 would attempt to go above God on the one hand, or, on 
 the other, to frame a law for his creatures independently 
 of him, we must, in either case, pronounce unworthy of 
 the name, and lay it under reprobation, as only the proud 
 presumption of " science falsely so called." 
 
 The inquiry, then, which next presents itself for our 
 consideration, relates to the manner in which the Divine 
 will is made known. How do men obtain acquaintance 
 with the rule or law by which their conduct is to be 
 regulated and tried ? Has the Divine Governor given 
 to the human race any full and infallible discovery of it ? 
 To this question I answer at once, with all confidence, 
 
1Q0 RULE OF 
 
 leaving the objections and sneers of philosophy to be 
 afterwards disposed of, — He has : and it is to be found in 
 the volume of divine revelation. This we affirm to be 
 the only complete and absolutely sure discovery of the 
 mind and will of the Divine Being to man. The answer 
 may seem a very common-place one ; but I am satisfied 
 it is the only one in accordance with truth. I am aware 
 of the special exception put in against it by philosophers, 
 — that nothing can be acknowledged as the rule or 
 standard of virtue to mankind, with which so limited 
 a portion of mankind are acquainted. The standard, 
 they allege, must be something universal, — something of 
 which all men are equally in possession, or to which, 
 at least, all have equal access : it being unreasonable. 
 to suppose, that the law, by which all are to be tried, 
 should be a law known only to a few. The objection, 
 I grant, is a very natural one, and one which, stated 
 in such a form, appears insuperable : for how is it possi- 
 ble, that a book should be the standard of duty to the 
 millions of men into whose hands it has never come ? A 
 little attention, however, to the true state of the case will 
 not only remove the difficulty, but will serve still further 
 to show, on how many points, in our investigation of such 
 subjects, the doctrine formerly adverted to, of the fallen 
 condition of man, is found to bear. This, I repeat, and 
 repeat most emphatically, is the fundamental article of 
 difference between the philosophy of the schools and the 
 philosophy of the Bible, — between the science of the wise 
 men of this world, and the Divine science of prophets and 
 apostles — that man is not now ivJiat he originally was. All 
 the great difficulties on the subject under discussion, and 
 the one which I have now mentioned among the rest, will 
 be found, with hardly perhaps a single exception, to resolve 
 themselves into this one point. Let us look at the case. We 
 are accustomed to say, in terms before adverted to, that the 
 law of God was originally written on mans heart. The ex- 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 121 
 
 pression is figurative ; but the figure is quite sufficiently 
 intelligible and explicit. We mean by it, that, along with 
 a perfect knowledge of the character of his Maker (perfect, 
 that is, in kind, for to be perfect in degree, it must have 
 been infinite), and a corresponding knowledge of his will, 
 as arising out of that character and in conformity to it, 
 he had also, in regard to the Divine will, a perfect dis- 
 position to do it, — a perfect accordance, in all his inclina- 
 tions, with the principles of rectitude, as subsisting in that 
 infinite nature, in the image of which his own had been 
 formed. The manner in which his mind possessed its 
 information of the will of God, upon which the disposition 
 developed itself, we may not be able distinctly to appre- 
 hend. From the very change that has passed upon the 
 moral constitution of our nature, and our consequent total 
 want of experience of the consciousnesses of a sinless soul, 
 the particular mode of Divine intimation to the mind of 
 the first man may to us be in some degree a secret. But 
 it is enough for us to know, that he possessed a full and 
 intuitive discernment of right, and that the perception of 
 duty and the delight in it were, in the very constitution of 
 his nature, inseparable, — subsisting there in unjarring and 
 blessed harmony ; — no discrepancy between the dictates 
 of the understanding and the desires of the heart ; — the 
 illumination of the one, and the warmth of the other, 
 ever in unison and in proportion, blending together, like 
 the rays of light and the rays of heat flowing, in undis- 
 tinguishable combination, from the same sun. The prin- 
 ciples of rectitude were perfect in his soul, and the 
 influence of them was perfect in his life. 
 
 But man (the same inspired record informs us, and 
 informs us Jwiv,) fell from this state of pristine purity and 
 bliss. He sinned ; and his nature, in consequence, be- 
 came degenerate, destitute of its original holy sensibilities, 
 — of that perfect love to God, which, in its original con- 
 stitution, was the essential element of all moral goodness, 
 
L22 RULE OF 
 
 being itself a complacent delight in infinite untainted 
 excellence, by which the derived purity of the creature 
 held the most intimate communion with the underived 
 purity of the Creator, — the happy soul filling itself with 
 joy from the exhaustless " fountain of life." Enmity 
 having taken the place of tins love, the spring of moral 
 purity in the heart having become polluted, the conduct of 
 man, in regard to the original law of duty, underwent a 
 most material change. Not that there was any alteration, 
 either in the principles and requirements of the law itself, 
 or in the obligations of the subject to render to it a full 
 obedience : — the change related to the state of his know- 
 ledge of the law, as that knowledge was affected by the 
 disposition of his heart towards it. In consequence of the 
 latter, the former became dark, confused, and uncertain. 
 No longer the object of complacency and holy desire, it 
 was in danger either of entire expulsion from the mind, 
 or of mutilation and corruption, through the influence of 
 earthly appetites and depraved affections in biassing and 
 perverting the judgment. Did philosophers believe what 
 divine revelation testifies, with regard to the difference 
 between the original and the present condition of man, 
 they would at once perceive two things, both most import- 
 ant in our present inquiry ;— -first, that, had man continued 
 what he was at his creation, the difficulty regarding the uni- 
 versality of the rule of moral rectitude could never have 
 arisen; it would have been all along universal, and by all the 
 members of the human family perfectly understood, perfectly 
 approved, perfectly loved and perfectly practised ; — and, 
 secondly, that the contrary of all this, the sad result of the 
 entrance of sin, has been the very cause which rendered 
 the revelation necessary. The loss of the knowledge of God 
 himself, of whose moral nature the law was a fair transcript 
 on the heart of his holy creature, has been owing entirely 
 to moral causes ; and, in as far as it exists, the loss of the 
 knowledge of his will has had the same origin. Both the 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 123 
 
 one and the other belong to man's indictment as a trans- 
 gressor. Instead of telling in his favour as an apology for 
 his sins, they stand against him, as leading counts, amongst 
 the charges of his guilt. 
 
 We cannot admit the view which some have taken of 
 revelation, as if it were no more than a republication of 
 the law of nature, — even understanding by the law of 
 nature the law written on man's heart in his pristine inno- 
 cence. The revelation contained in the Scriptures is ad- 
 dressed to men as sinners against God; and its grand 
 design is, not to make known the way of obedience, but to 
 make known the way of recovery from a state of disobedi- 
 ence, — of restoration, by pardon of sin and renovation of 
 heart, to the forfeited favour and the lost image of God. 
 Still, however, the law is there. It is there, for the pur- 
 pose of convincing men of sin, and showing them their 
 need of mercy ; and it is there, as the rule of life to those 
 by whom the mercy revealed in the gospel is accepted. 
 Its uses thus are, to constrain men, by a right view of 
 their exigencies, to believe the message of salvation, and 
 then to regulate the life of the believer. — But, since there 
 cannot be two laws, — two different rules of duty, — the 
 moral law of revelation is the same with the moral law in 
 the heart of the first man ; and so far this department of 
 revelation may be allowed to be a republication of the law 
 of nature. The special discoveries of the gospel present 
 new and peculiar motives to obedience, — motives which 
 make their appeal to the obligations under which saved 
 sinners lie to the mercy that has saved them. But in the 
 great principles of moral rectitude revelation makes no 
 change ; and the specialities of duty which it inculcates 
 will be found no more than the modified exercise,— the 
 exercise modified by the circumstances in which men are 
 placed by the gospel, — of those great principles. When, 
 therefore, against revelation being admitted as the stand- 
 ard of rectitude and the rule of moral duty to man, the 
 
124 RULE OF 
 
 objection is urged that it is not universal, the objector for- 
 gets, that the principles of virtue contained in revelation are 
 the same with the principles of virtue as originally subsist- 
 ing and operating in the human heart ; and that the sole 
 reason why these principles are not universal is the fallen 
 and guilty state of man. It is man's own blame, therefore, 
 that they are otherwise. There lay upon the righteous 
 Governor no obligation to republish them, — to give to 
 creatures in a state of voluntary alienation from himself 
 an inspired and accredited manifestation of his will ; and 
 where there was no obligation to give it at all, there could 
 be no obligation to make it universal. The fact of the 
 limited diffusion of revelation may be pleaded by philoso- 
 phers, if they will, as one of the considerations which 
 throw doubt on its pretended authority ; — it may be in- 
 troduced among the objections to its claims, which it is 
 incumbent on its advocates to meet and to rebut. But, 
 on the supposition that they do this successfully, — that 
 this and other objections are fairly overruled, and that the 
 contrary evidence, — the evidence in favour of revelation, is 
 found sufficient to establish those claims ; — then the fact 
 in question, on whatever principles we account for it, by 
 whatever considerations we remove or mitigate the mys- 
 tery that envelopes it, cannot, with any shadow of fairness, 
 be pleaded as a reason for excluding that revelation, when 
 thus authenticated, from being received as the true stand- 
 ard of morals ; the true standard, because containing a 
 discovery of the same will which formed man's inward law 
 in his original innocence. 
 
 I cannot, however, as we pass along, resist the tempt- 
 ation to dwell for a few moments longer on the fact just 
 adverted to, that this new discovery of the will of God as 
 the law of duty to man, is not the only, nor indeed the 
 chief part and purpose of the revelation. Had it been a 
 mere republication of the law, unaccompanied by any pro- 
 vision either for the remission of human guilt, or for the 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 125 
 
 restoration to human nature of the principles of obedience, 
 might it not with justice have been regarded as a curse 
 rather than a blessing ? For in these circumstances, what 
 alone could have been its effect ? If the maxim be true, 
 that "by the law is the knowledge of sin," the clearer dis- 
 covery of the rule of duty could have answered no other 
 end than to bring before the mind of every sinner that 
 obtained it the fuller view of the amount of his guilt ; — to 
 muster in more appalling array before his conscience the 
 host of his trespasses ; and, by augmenting his conscious- 
 ness of delinquency, at once to aggravate his present dis- 
 tress, and to deepen the gloom of his prospective terrors : 
 — and, while it offered no means of pardon, and conse- 
 quently imparted no hope, what moral effect could be 
 expected to arise from the explicit manifestation of the 
 law, in all the extent of its requisitions and sanctions, 
 while the heart was allowed to remain in its native and 
 acquired hostility to its principles ? — what effect, but to 
 awaken a suspicion of cruel vindictiveness on the part of 
 the Lawgiver, as a being who, in such a publication, could 
 have no other end in view than to " torment before the 
 time " the objects of his threatened wrath ; to exasperate 
 by such suspicion the virulence of the inborn enmity 
 against him ; and, in a frightful extent, to realize that in- 
 dignant spurning of restraint, that scorn and defiance of 
 the barriers of authority, which is mentioned by the 
 Apostle as one of the characteristic tendencies of human 
 depravity, — " Sin, taking occasion by the commandment, 
 wrought in me all manner of concupiscence ? " — But, as I 
 have said, the mere exhibition of law is not the object of 
 divine revelation. Law, it is true, is exhibited ; the will 
 of God is disclosed ; the principles and requirements of 
 divine morality are authoritatively stated ; and the terrific 
 sanctions are announced, by which they are guarded. But 
 all this is merely in subserviency to the main design. 
 That design* is a design of mercy. It is to restore fallen 
 
1*26 RULE OF 
 
 immortals, for the perpetuity of their being, to their for- 
 feited honour and happiness, to the divine favour and to 
 the divine likeness : — and, while it sets forth anew, in all 
 the fulness and peremptoriness of its demands, the primi- 
 tive standard of morals, to recommend] and enforce con- 
 formity to it by such new exhibitions of the character of 
 God, in all its holy sublimity and attractive loveliness, as 
 are divinely fitted at once to awe and to win the froward 
 heart. 
 
 It will very reasonably be asked, what, in regard to 
 responsibility, is the condition of those who have not this 
 revelation? — Their responsibility, we say in reply, must 
 of course correspond to the means they possess of ac- 
 quaintance with the rule of duty. We have seen it affirmed 
 in this revelation itself, that " sin is the transgression of 
 law," and that " where no law is, there is no transgres- 
 sion." Have they, then, no law / If they had not, it 
 would follow, that they could have no sin, and could not 
 be the subjects of any sentence of condemnation. I cannot 
 task your patience with any repetition of what was ad- 
 vanced on this subject in last Lecture, when we were 
 commenting on the theory of Dr. Butler. A few additional 
 sentences must'suffice. — Under the administration of the 
 same divine Ruler, it is manifest, as already hinted, that 
 there can be only one moral law for the whole community 
 of mankind. Right and wrong, in their great essential 
 principles and requirements, do not vary with climate, 
 locality, condition, or time. They are the same to all. 
 The difference in regard to responsibility, wheresover it 
 exists, does not arise from a difference in the law, but 
 from a difference in the means and opportunities of know- 
 ing it, and in the nature and amount of motives by which 
 it is enforced. This is the principle laid down by the 
 divine Author of Christianity : — " That servant who knew 
 his Lord's will, and did commit things worthy of stripes, 
 shall be beaten with many stripes ; but he that knew not " 
 
MOEAL OBLIGATION. 127 
 
 (that is, had not the same means and the same measure of 
 knowledge, for the absence of all knowledge and all means 
 of knowledge would have nullified accountableness alto- 
 gether), " and did commit things worthy of stripes, shall 
 be beaten with few stripes :"* and the same is the prin- 
 ciple of the passage in the Epistle to the Komans formerly 
 adverted to — " As many as have sinned without law shall 
 also perish without law : and as many as have sinned in 
 the law shall be judged by the law."f Men shall be judged 
 and punished, that is, according to their means of knowing 
 God's will ; they who enjoy the written law, or revelation 
 of that will, having a heavier load of guilt, and a propor- 
 tionally severer verdict, than those who have not possessed 
 this privilege. 
 
 That the law of revelation, and the law of nature and 
 conscience, are substantially the same, the context of the 
 passage last cited clearly implies: — "When the Gentiles 
 who have not the law " (the written law) " do by nature 
 things contained in the law," (the same written law) 
 "these, having not the law, are a law unto themselves," — 
 not certainly a law different from the other, but the same 
 law, known in another way, and in an inferior degree. — 
 For the degree in which the Gentiles knew not God, 
 "they were without excuse," because the means of know- 
 ing him were sufficient, had there been a right disposition 
 or state of heart. For the degree in which they knew not 
 the will of God, they were in like manner without excuse, 
 because the means of knowing it were also sufficient, had 
 there been a right disposition or state of heart. Their 
 ignorance both of God and of his will, and their practical 
 atheism and wickedness of character, rendered revelation 
 necessary, though in no respect a boon which they* were 
 entitled to claim. It was criminal ignorance, containing 
 in it not only no ground of title to privilege, but no 
 
 * Luke xii. 47, 48. + Romans ii. 12. 
 
128 RULE OF 
 
 excuse for disobedience. Springing from moral causes, 
 it had itself in it the evil of its source. 
 
 The sum of all this is : — that man was originally in full 
 possession of the knowledge of the divine will, as the rule 
 or law of duty, and that a disposition in accordance with 
 this will was (if I may so express myself) inwoven with 
 the very texture of his moral constitution : — that in this 
 his original state, the dictates of conscience might, with 
 unhesitating assurance, have been taken as the test and 
 standard of moral rectitude : — that since, by throwing off 
 his allegiance, man became a sinful creature, the know- 
 ledge of his Maker's will has not been entirely obliterated, 
 but, in consequence of the obliteration of the disposition 
 to do it, has become so sadly defaced and confused in its 
 characters and impressions, that, although it still leaves 
 him, as a subject of moral government, intelligent and 
 accountable, it has been rendered, as a standard of right 
 and, wrong, incompetent and unsatisfactory, itself requiring 
 to be rectified : — that the Holy Scriptures, coming from 
 the same Being who was the Author at first of man's 
 moral nature, are, with respect to the rule of duty, in 
 precise harmony with the dictates of conscience in that 
 nature, when in its state of primitive innocence, — the law 
 in the book being the same as the law then in the heart : 
 — and that the way to bring mankind back to the know- 
 ledge of the original law, and to correct the dictates of a 
 depraved and erring conscience, is to put them in posses- 
 sion of this divine document. 
 
 I have said little hitherto about the nature of conscience. 
 A few observations in answer to the questions, What is it? 
 and, What are its peculiar functions ? may perhaps serve to 
 throw some additional light on preceding speculations ; — 
 and may, especially, tend to show how it is, that, being 
 liable to the biassing influence of the depraved disposi- 
 tions of the heart, its testimony on the present subject is 
 not infallible, — not, by any means, to be taken without 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 129 
 
 reserve. On this subject, then, I may be permitted, in 
 the first instance, to cite a paragraph or two from Dis- 
 courses, published several years ago, on the important 
 topic on which we have now been slightly touching — the 
 responsibility of the heathen. I am the rather desirous 
 to introduce this citation, because the statements which it 
 contains have, to a certain degree, been misapprehended, 
 and require, therefore, a little additional explication : — " I 
 have often, for my own part, in thinking of this subject, 
 been at a loss to conceive what conscience can include in it 
 beyond the exercise of the judgment in the particular 
 department of morals. Even those who speak of it as if 
 it were something different, or something more, are at the 
 same time accustomed to use language about it, that will 
 hardly apply to it in any other view. They employ the 
 common phrases. They speak of the decisions of con- 
 science; — of conscience being well or ill informed; and of 
 these decisions being more or less enlightened and just, 
 according to the information it possesses. When we 
 speak of the pain which an awakened conscience inflicts, 
 what more do we mean than the pain which arises from 
 the conviction, brought home to the mind, of our having 
 done wrong? The pain will be various in degree, ac- 
 cording to the clearness and force of this conviction ; 
 according to the apprehension which the mind has of the 
 intrinsic evil of sin in general, and of the nature and cir- 
 cumstantial aggravations of the particular transgression. 
 The consciousness of the wrong done is not the pain, but 
 the cause of the pain. When the Apostle Paul says, — 
 ' Our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, 
 that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly 
 wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our con- 
 versation in the world;' he does not mean to identify the 
 testimony and the joy, but, by a common mode of speech, 
 to assign the one as the cause of the other. In the same 
 way, it was the testimony of conscience in Felix, — it was 
 i. K 
 
130 EULE OF 
 
 the conviction, forced upon his judgment, of the enormity 
 of his crimes, that made him ' tremble ' under the faithful 
 warnings of the preacher of ' righteousness, temperance, 
 and judgment to come.' The consciousness was not the 
 trembling, nor was it the fear which the trembling in- 
 dicated ; it was the cause of both. We speak of conscience 
 slumbering; and we oppose to this figurative phrase that 
 of an awakened conscience. We mean by the former, that 
 when the disposition to evil hurries on a person in a 
 course of worldliness and vice, the mind is kept from 
 thinking ; reflection and anticipation are alike repressed ; 
 there is no alarm, because there is no considerate thought ; 
 and this banishment of thought, which at first might 
 require an effort and the use of various subsidiary means, 
 becomes itself habitual by the influence of the progressive 
 habit of evil-doing. The conscience, again, is awakened, 
 when, by any alarming event, or powerful pleading, or 
 whatever else may have the tendency to rouse, the mind 
 is startled, and made to think ; the claims of religion and 
 virtue, of God and of the soul, are forced upon its notice ; 
 the infatuation and the damning tendency of sin, and the 
 awful certainties of death, and judgment, and eternity, 
 are, in spite of its natural and contracted unwillingness to 
 think of them, pressed upon its view. And the vividness 
 of the consequent emotions will correspond with the clear- 
 ness of the mind's perceptions, and the strength of its 
 convictions and impressions. It must be obvious, how- 
 ever, that if there be any one case in which the judgment 
 is in danger of being perverted by the disposition or 
 inclination, — of having its dictates biassed or silenced, — 
 it is in matters of moral right and wrong; where duty 
 presents itself under the aspect of the effort and pain of 
 self-denial, and its opposite under that of the ease and 
 pleasure of self-indulgence. It is thus that conscience 
 is tampered with, and its remonstrances overcome. It 
 executes its functions as a punisher of evil, much more 
 
M0KAL OBLIGATION. 131 
 
 efficiently than as a* preventer ; chastising by subsequent 
 remorse, more frequently than it hinders by previous re- 
 straint. But whether this simple view of the nature of 
 conscience, as a modification of the judging faculty, or 
 rather as that faculty itself exercised in a special depart- 
 ment, — be correct or not, the argument of the apostle is 
 not in the least affected by either its soundness or its 
 error. Whatever view we take of it, and by whatever 
 name we call it, its office is to bear inward testimony to 
 the good or the evil of our thoughts, and words, and 
 actions." 
 
 In this simple view of conscience, as the exercise of the 
 judgment in the department of morals, I seem to be sup- 
 ported by the authority of the eminent prelate, on whose 
 moral system I have, in a former Lecture, been venturing 
 to comment : — " There is," says Bishop Butler, " a prin- 
 ciple of reflection in men, by which they distinguish 
 between, approve and disapprove, their own actions. We 
 are plainly constituted such sort of creatures, as to reflect 
 upon our own nature. The mind can take a view of what 
 passes within itself, its propensions, aversions, passions, 
 affections, as respecting such objects, and in such degrees; 
 and of the several actions consequent thereupon. In this 
 survey it approves of one, and disapproves of another, and 
 towards a third is affected in neither of these ways, but is 
 quite indifferent. This principle in man, by which he 
 approves or disapproves his heart, temper, and actions, is 
 conscience : for this is the strict sense of the word, 
 though sometimes it is used so as to take in more."* 
 It appears sufficiently obvious, that to constitute a " prin- 
 ciple of reflection " there is no occasion for any faculty 
 additional to the understanding or judgment : — and that 
 " reflecting upon our own conduct," — "taking a survey of 
 what passes within the mind, its propensions, aversions, 
 
 * Sermon I. 
 
] 3 2 RULE OF 
 
 passions, and affections," and of "the actions consequent 
 thereupon," — " distinguishing between them, approving one 
 and disapproving another," — are all intellectual or judicial 
 acts. The Bishop, indeed, speaks of conscience as if it 
 were a distinct " principle " in man ; but in the descrip- 
 tion which he thus gives of its functions, there is nothing 
 to which the judgment is not perfectly competent. He 
 intimates that the term is sometimes used in a looser 
 sense, as " taking in more ;" but he conceives the " strict" 
 acceptation of it to be exhausted in his description. It is 
 true that it has by many been regarded as " taking in 
 more." Yet, if we set aside the idea of a moral sense in 
 the strict acceptation of the term as used by Dr. Hutche- 
 son, the differences will be found to be more about the 
 proper use of words than about the actual operations of 
 the mind, — to be questions more of nomenclature than of 
 truth. 
 
 To the view given of conscience as being no more than 
 "judgment exercised in the department of moral duty," it 
 has been objected, by a sound moralist and an. acute meta- 
 physician, that " the operations of conscience are confined 
 to ourselves," whereas " the faculty of judgment includes 
 others within the range of its decisions." " My judg- 
 ment," says Dr. Payne, " pronounces the conduct of a 
 friend to be wrong, but it cannot be said that my con- 
 science condemns him." This is perfectly true. But it 
 ought, in such a discussion, to be previously understood, 
 that, when we speak of conscience, we are speaking of 
 what has for its proper province our own conduct : and the 
 only question is, whether it includes more than the exer- 
 cise and decisions of judgment within that province. A 
 simple analogy may illustrate this. It is by sight and 
 touch that I acquire a knowledge of the form and features 
 of my own person : — it surely does not follow, that there 
 must be something more than sight and touch to give 
 me this knowledge, because it is by sight and touch that 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 133 
 
 I acquire also a knowledge of the forms and features of 
 the persons of others. In like manner, it does not 
 follow, from its being " my judgment that pronounces 
 the conduct of a friend to be wrong," that it must be 
 something else or something more than my judgment 
 that pronounces my own conduct to be wrong. The 
 correctness of the analogy is not at all impaired by 
 the mere circumstance of our happening to have a pecu- 
 liar term to express the exercise of judgment in the all- 
 important department of our own conduct, while we have 
 no such term for the observation of our own persons. 
 To offer such an objection is, as I have said, to reduce the 
 question to one of mere nomenclature ; to one that re- 
 spects, not the true mental process, but the proper defini- 
 tion of a word in our vocabulary. The importance of the 
 former is incomparably greater than that of the latter. 
 And, in regard to the former, it appears to me that there 
 exists little if any difference, after all, between the view I 
 have given of conscience, and that which is taken by Dr. 
 Payne himself. I am incapable of discovering any mate- 
 rial discrepancy between the actual process of mind, as 
 described by him, and as described by me. — " When we 
 speak of the pain," I have said, " which an awakened con- 
 science inflicts, what more do we mean than the pain 
 which arises from the conviction, brought home to the 
 mind, of our having done wrong ? The consciousness of 
 the wrong is not the pain, but the cause of the pain." " Ee- 
 morse," says Dr. Payne, "is that dreadful feeling of self- 
 accusation and condemnation, which arises upon the 
 retrospect of our guilt. — It is combined with, or pre- 
 supposes, a perception of criminality, and consequently 
 a knowledge of the standard by which actions are 
 weighed ; but remorse itself is, strictly speaking, the 
 vivid feeling of regret and self-condemnation, which is 
 consequent upon this intellectual state of mind;" and 
 again, — " By an original law of the^mind, self-approbation 
 
1 8 1 RULE OF 
 
 or self-condemnation arises, as an individual conceives 
 himself innocent or guilty, whether that conviction he 
 well or ill-founded." Between these representations, and 
 " the pain which arises from the conviction, brought home 
 to the mind, of our having done wrong," I am unable, 
 I repeat, to discern any more than a verbal difference. 
 Substantially, the statements are the same. The mental 
 process, therefore, being precisely alike, it comes, as has 
 already been said, to be a question of nomenclature 
 merely, — in what sense, more definite, or more compre- 
 hensive, the term conscience should be used : — whether 
 to signify the faculty which decides upon the right or 
 wrong of the action ; or to denote the susceptibility of the 
 consequent emotion, — of what Dr. Payne denominates 
 moral regret on the one hand, and moral gladness on the 
 other ; or whether it should not be understood as inclusive 
 of both. What I have said of it proceeds on the first of 
 these views ; Dr. Payne adopts the second, denning con- 
 science to be " the susceptibility of experiencing those 
 emotions of approbation or of disapprobation and con- 
 demnation, which are awakened by a retrospect of the 
 moral demerit, or the moral excellence, of our own 
 conduct." According to this definition, conscience has 
 nothing to do with the previous decision on the right or 
 wrong of our conduct : — that is a matter of previous judg- 
 ment : and conscience is only the susceptibility of conse- 
 quent emotions.* I have, on the other hand, regarded 
 conscience as the determining faculty, — the faculty that 
 decides on the right or the wrong of our conduct ; and, 
 on this assumption, have identified it with judgment. I 
 cannot think it right to exclude from the province of 
 conscience the determining of right and wrong ; while, at 
 
 * Sir James Mackintosh says, in coincidence with this view, "Judgment 
 and reason are therefore preparatory to conscience, not properly a part of it." 
 — Prel. Diss, p. 393. — Notes and Illustrations, Note K. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 135 
 
 the same time, I may have been in error, in limiting its 
 province to this alone.* Perhaps the third of the views 
 mentioned, which considers conscience as partaking of 
 both, — including together the faculty of determining and 
 the susceptibility of pleasurable or painful emotions, 
 may be nearer to correctness than either, being more in 
 accordance with all the customary phraseology respecting 
 its operations. — But this difference, allow me to repeat, 
 about the application of a term, makes no difference as to 
 the actual mental process. That is, in all cases, the same. 
 All that I would be understood to mean is that there is 
 no need for multiplying our faculties ; and that, in the 
 operation of conscience, when considered as the determiner of 
 right and wrong, there is nothing more than an exercise of 
 judgment upon our own conduct. The intuitive rapidity 
 with which the judgment may fulfil its function, does not 
 deprive the faculty of its proper nature. Even our deci- 
 sions respecting first truths are exercises of judgment. To 
 the axioms, that the whole is greater than any of its fjarts, 
 and that all the parts together are equal to the whole, our 
 assent is intuitive and instantaneous ; yet it involves the 
 perception of certain relations between known things 
 expressed by the several terms, and an act of judgment 
 founded on this perception. The decisions of conscience 
 may resemble in intuitive quickness our assent to first 
 truths, and yet still be no more than acts of judgment. 
 We judge ourselves to have done right or to have done 
 wrong; and we experience the feelings, accordingly, of 
 self-satisfaction, or of remorse. — These feelings (as for- 
 merly stated) are not the conviction, but the effects or 
 results of the conviction. — There are certain feelings 
 which naturally arise from a right or a wrong course when 
 adopted by us in other departments, which, although in 
 some points essentially different, are yet so far akin, as to 
 
 * See Addition to Note M. 
 
136 RULE OF 
 
 afford an illustration sufficiently appropriate to our present 
 purpose. We set about the construction, I shall suppose, 
 of some machine ; we expend upon it no inconsiderable 
 amount of thought, and time, and labour, and expense ; 
 and when it is finished and brought to the trial, it turns 
 out a failure. We immediately discover, that the failure 
 is owing to our having overlooked the application of a 
 particular principle, and that principle, it may be, a very 
 simple and obvious one. The discovery of this omission 
 is of course an act of the understanding. We judge our- 
 selves to have acted stupidly. We are instantly conscious 
 of corresponding emotions. We are ashamed ; we are 
 angry with ourselves ; we feel a painful regret for the loss 
 of time, labour, expense, and professional reputation, 
 which we have incurred ; and, if we have it not in our 
 power to remedy the failure, our self-reproaches are pro- 
 portionally the more bitter, and our lamentations the more 
 vehement. Now, I grant the difference to be essential 
 between the regret that arises from an intellectual error, 
 and the remorse consequent upon a moral delinquency ; 
 but the difference lies rather in the things themselves by 
 which the feelings, respectively, are produced, than in the 
 mental process regarding them. In the one case, I judge 
 myself to have acted stupidly ; in the other, I judge myself 
 to have acted immorally : — in the one case I judge myself 
 to have violated, with a senseless inadvertency, the prin- 
 ciples of mechanical science ; in the other I judge myself to 
 have transgressed, with a reprehensible selfishness, the 
 principles of moral obligation: — in the one case, I am 
 sensible of exposure to certain effects which are painfully 
 injurious to my interest and to my reputation amongst 
 men ; in the other, of exposure to certain effects arising 
 from my responsibility, not to men merely, but to God. 
 Is there, in the two cases, any material diversity in the 
 order of mental operations? Or is there any greater 
 difficulty, in understanding the cause or origin of the pain 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 1 37 
 
 in the one case, than that of the pain in the other ? In 
 both cases, is not the conviction of error an operation of 
 the judgment ? — and in both cases, is not the pain simply 
 the effect of the conviction, differing in its nature just in 
 as far as the conviction in the one case is that of an intel- 
 lectual error, and in the other that of a moral delinquency? 
 What has inspired the agonizing horrors of conscience 
 that have sometimes been consequent on the perpetration 
 of some deed of peculiarly flagrant enormity, — that have 
 wrung with torture, and agitated with phrenzy, the unna- 
 tural parracide, or the murderer of helpless age and unsus- 
 pecting innocence ? Has it not been, in a special manner, 
 the conviction in the judgment of responsibility to a 
 Supreme Avenger, whose all-seeing eye no secrecy can 
 elude, and whose omnipotence no created power can with- 
 stand? If such a preacher as Paul could have "reasoned 
 of righteousness and temperance " apart from "judgment 
 to come," would Felix have trembled? And to what, 
 accordingly, has the wretched victim of remorse and dread 
 his recourse ? Does he not try, by every means in his 
 power, to banish from his mind the thought of this Being 
 and of his judgment-seat, — or, by all the plausibilities of 
 sophistical argument, to reason himself out of the convic- 
 tion of the Divine existence and of human responsibility ? 
 The emotion being the product of the conviction, could 
 he but eradicate the conviction, he would rid himself of 
 the emotion. 
 
 It may possibly contribute to illustrate the views we 
 have thus been taking of the operations of conscience, to 
 consider for a few moments the question, — What is con- 
 science in a sinless creature ? or, in other words, What 
 was conscience in man while in his state of innocence ? — 
 That during that period man was the subject of conscious- 
 ness, it were a puerile truism to affirm ; all that is meant 
 by consciousness being no more than the mind's knowing 
 and feeling itself to be in any particular state, whether of 
 
138 RULE OF 
 
 sentiment or of emotion — and it was of course an impossi- 
 bility that the mind of Adam should be in the state of holy 
 sentiment and blissful emotion which were the characters 
 of paradise, without his being aware — that is, without his 
 being conscious — of it ! There was then a perfect identity 
 between his judgment of rectitude and God's; and an 
 identity equally perfect between his disposition towards it 
 and God's. He knew this ; he felt this. Is there any 
 need for supposing more than this knowledge and this 
 feeling, with the blessed habitude of soul thence result- 
 ing? Suppose we were to affirm the existence of con- 
 science, what should we express by it? What would be 
 the province of the new faculty? We have already an 
 enlightened understanding and a pure heart; — perfect 
 knowledge and perfect love ; a right judgment and a right 
 disposition. This was the image of God ; — light and love, 
 light in the mind, and love in the heart. What need, — 
 nay, I think I may ask, what possibility of any higher pre- 
 siding and regulating principle? Is it not enough that 
 there is a right disposition, under the guidance of a right 
 judgment? — that love rules, under the direction of light ? 
 Is anything more requisite, to account for the phenomena? 
 Is anything more really possible ? Should we not be only 
 introducing a new term, without any really new power ? — 
 " It may be questioned," says a writer of merited celebrity, 
 " whether the inhabitants of worlds unvisited by evil, how 
 enlarged soever their intelligence may be, have thought of 
 asking, What is virtue ? or, What is the liberty of a 
 moral agent ? " * The same thing, I should think, may be 
 said, with equal or with even greater truth, of the question, 
 What is conscience ? 
 
 And when man fell, — is there any necessity for sup- 
 posing the introduction of a new faculty ? To account for 
 
 » Introd. Diss, to Edwards on the Will, by the author of the Nat. Hist, of 
 Enthusiasm. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 139 
 
 the new phenomena, — for his shame, and fear, and flight, 
 — is anything more required than his knowing that he had 
 done wrong, — his judgment pronouncing sentence upon his 
 conduct, as a violation of the will of his Creator, his Bene- 
 factor, his God? He could not be in this new state of 
 guilt and alienation, any more than in the previous one of 
 innocence and love, without his being aware of it, — with- 
 out his knowing and feeling it: — nor could he be thus 
 aware of it, without such emotions arising in his heart as 
 those which the sacred narrative ascribes to him. When 
 we say that his conscience told him he had done wrong, 
 what is the process of mind which our words express? Is 
 it any more than that, from his previous knowledge of his 
 Maker's will, and of the terms of the divine covenant with 
 him, he now knew that he had violated that will, that he 
 had broken that covenant, that God was offended, that the 
 sentence of death was incurred, that " all was lost "? And 
 was not the thought of all this, — of the fearful transition 
 he had made, — of an alienated God and a self-inflicted 
 doom of perdition, quite enough to account for the agony 
 of remorse, the burning of indignant shame, and the 
 trembling apprehension of encountering the eye or hear- 
 ing the voice of Him whom he could no longer meet in 
 love, — no longer as a benignant and smiling Father, but 
 as an incensed and avenging Judge ? 
 
 When the tempter held forth to our first parents the 
 seductive allurement of " the knowledge of good and evil," 
 as that which would really assimilate them to God, and 
 which had, on this very account, been by him withheld 
 from them, he knew well that he was presenting, under 
 the mask of a tempting good, the greatest of possible ills, 
 — even an experimental acquaintance with that of which 
 " ignorance was bliss." It was then, I should apprehend, 
 that the operation of what is usually denominated con- 
 science properly began. It is a term which, in its custom- 
 ary use, belongs rather to the vocabulary of man's fallen 
 
140 FJJLE OF 
 
 than of his unfallen nature. I say " in its customary use." 
 I do not mean that in the state of paradisiacal innocence 
 there was not the " mens sibi conscla recti," — an inward 
 approving testimony of conformity to God's will, and a 
 feeling of responsibility to him. But there was no con- 
 trary testimony of existing evil, and nothing of the pain of 
 self-accusation and chastisement : — there were no wicked 
 propensities, against which conscience had to remonstrate, 
 nor any crimes for which it had to inflict its vengeance. 
 There was the simple and happy consciousness of good ; — 
 restraint and correction were unfelt ; the latter at least, if 
 not the former. But these are the operations to which the 
 term is most frequently applied, or which are most gene- 
 rally thought of when it is used. Its operation, at any rate, 
 in its twofold capacity was unknown till sin entered ; and 
 till then, probably, the conception of it could hardly be 
 said to have a definite subsistence. It is the " knowledge 
 of good and evil ; " not a distinct or new faculty, but the 
 judgment exercised upon our conduct, and discerning in 
 it between right and wrong; bearing testimony for God, 
 and rendering men " without excuse," when, from the in- 
 fluence of corrupt desires and affections, they suppress, 
 pervert, or resist its intimations ; and destined, on the one 
 hand, by its clear and damnatory dictates operating upon 
 an alienated heart and an unsubdued will, to be the chief 
 and everlasting tormentor of the finally disobedient, — and 
 on the other, when, with a mind enlightened with the 
 divine word, and a heart freed by the Divine Spirit from 
 the deceptive influence of a rebellious disposition, its 
 dictates are sincerely obeyed, to become, by its inward 
 approving testimony, a spring of the purest satisfaction 
 and joy. 
 
 The emotions of self-satisfaction on the one hand, and 
 remorse on the other, may be, but are not necessarily, 
 transient. They may last for a shorter or a longer period; 
 they may be permanent inmates of the bosom. The 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 141 
 
 continuance of these feelings, respectively, arises of course 
 from the existence of memory, which cherishes the remem- 
 brance of the good, and which -will not allow us, how 
 fondly soever we would, to forget the evil. " Conscience," 
 says Dr. Brown, " is our moral memory; it is the memory 
 of the heart." We remember the evil deed; the convic- 
 tion of its evil nature attends the recollection of it, as it 
 attended its commission ; and the remorse attends the 
 conviction, so long as memory continues to retain the 
 fact. This is what has usually been termed, the haunting 
 of conscience. When, to show the difference between 
 conscience and judgment, Dr. Payne says, as quoted 
 above, "My judgment pronounces the conduct of a friend 
 to be wrong, but it cannot be said that my conscience 
 condemns him ; " we have seen in what sense the state- 
 ment is true, and how, at the same time, as bearing upon 
 his object, it is fallacious. If conscience, indeed, is to be 
 considered as at all including in its appropriate function 
 the determination of right and wrong, — then it seems to 
 me to be a self-evident truth, that the same faculty of mind 
 which pronounces the sentence of right or wrong on the 
 actions of others, must necessarily be that which pro- 
 nounces similar sentence upon our own. If it be judg- 
 ment in the one case, it must be judgment in the other; 
 the sentence not depending on the person by whom the 
 action is done, but on the nature of the action itself. The 
 subsequent emotions, however, are necessarily different : — 
 " The emotions," says Dr. Brown, " with which we re- 
 gard the virtues or vices of others, are very different from 
 those with which we regard the same virtues or vices as 
 our own. There is the distinctive moral feeling, indeed, 
 in both cases, whether the generous sacrifice or the ma- 
 lignant atrocity which we contemplate be the deed of an- 
 other, or our own heroic kindness or guilty passion ; but 
 in the one case, there is something far more than mere 
 approbation, however pleasing, or mere disapprobation, 
 
142 RULE OF 
 
 however disagreeable. There is the dreadful moral regret 
 arising from the certainty that we have made ourselves 
 unworthy of the love of men, and the approbation of 
 God." — And yet, diverse as these subsequent emotions 
 appear to be, they are, after all, very nearly akin. In the 
 case of moral disapprobation of the deed of another, there 
 is a rising indignation at the author of the atrocity, the 
 guilty violator of moral principle. And what is the " moral 
 regret" that springs from the consciousness of wrong in 
 our owti conduct ? What is it but a rising indignation, 
 of which we are ourselves the objects ? an indignation pro- 
 portioned to the magnitude of the crime, and of the for- 
 feiture incurred by it; a rankling bitterness of self-re- 
 proach, such as at times may rise to phrenzy, and, arming 
 the hand with the weapons of self-destruction, may plunge 
 the perpetrator into the woes of eternity, to escape the 
 agonies of time. 
 
 The whole of the customary phraseology on the subject 
 of conscience, both in the writings of philosophers and in 
 every-day life, is framed upon the assumption, wittingly 
 or unwittingly, that, whatever else it may be considered as 
 including, it involves, as its first elementary operation, the 
 application of the judgment to the moral character of our 
 own actions. And on this ground, we revert to our former 
 position, that, in determining the principles of moral recti- 
 tude, we cannot place any assured confidence in a judg- 
 ment that is liable to all the biassing and perverting in- 
 fluences of depraved affections, and that has, in so many 
 instances, some of them in their nature and results of very 
 serious magnitude, given evidence of the power of these 
 influences over its decisions. The Apostle speaks of con- 
 science as " bearing Avitness : " but it is a witness-bearer 
 of unsteady principle, — exposed, in many ways, to the 
 influence of bribery and corruption, ever ready to give a 
 false verdict, to flatter men in the indulgence of their 
 worldly and vicious inclinations, and even to give a per- 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 143 
 
 verse and mischievous direction to principles that in them- 
 selves are good. — There is, for example, a " zeal for God," 
 that is " not according to knowledge." Saul of Tarsus 
 was conscientious in persecuting and wasting the church 
 of Christ. " I verily thought with myself," says he, " that 
 I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus 
 of Nazareth : " — and his case was but one out of many 
 exemplifications of the fulfilment of the Saviour's pre- 
 monition to his apostles, — " They shall put you out of the 
 synagogues ; yea, the time cometh, when whosoever killeth 
 you will think that he doeth God service." What was there, 
 in all this, but a perverted judgment ? And wherein, then, 
 lay the guilt ? It lay in the moral causes from which this 
 perversion arose, and by which it was maintained. In 
 Saul, it was the product of all that, in human nature uni- 
 versally, stands opposed to the grace and the purity of the 
 Gospel, combined with the special pride of Jewish learn- 
 ing and Pharisaical self-sufficiency ; and afterwards, when 
 his mind was enlightened and his heart was humbled by 
 the Gospel, instead of vindicating and palliating his former 
 conduct by pleading its conscientiousness, there is nothing 
 that stirs in him such indignant self-loathing as the re- 
 membrance of the spirit by which he had been animated, 
 when he " breathed out threatenings and slaughter against 
 the disciples of the Lord;" and the very zeal which had 
 then inflamed him, conscientious as it was, he regarded 
 as having constituted him the " chief of sinners."* — When 
 we say that the shame and the pain which he experienced 
 arose from an enlightened and awakened conscience; what 
 more do we mean, than that they arose from his having 
 seen his conduct in a new light, and from a consequently 
 altered judgment respecting its real principles and merits? 
 Conscience having thus partaken in the general deprav- 
 ity of human nature, we are not entitled to expect uniform 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note L. 
 
144 BULE OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 
 
 ity of operation in that which is necessarily affected by a 
 variety so endless of modifying circumstances. — For in- 
 fallible principles we must look to some other quarter.* 
 What that quarter is, it has been the object of the pre- 
 ceding part of this Lecture to ascertain. If this has been 
 satisfactorily done, how thankful have we not reason to be 
 to that holy and just and good "Being, who, in the midst 
 of all our anxious uncertainties, has favoured us with the 
 sure intimations of his will ; and, in the midst of all our 
 corruption, and guilt, and fear, has sent us the " glad 
 tidings" of a Saviour; providing for us, through his 
 mediation, a salvation as perfectly adapted to all the 
 exigencies of our condition, as it is in accordance with 
 the dictates and the claims of every attribute of his own 
 all-perfect character ! 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note M. — In an addition to tlxis note, in the 
 present edition, will be found a few further remarks on the - ] difference 
 between Dr. Payne's views and my own, suggested by his strictures in the 
 second edition of his valuable work on the "Elements of Mental and Moral 
 Science," — text and note. 
 
LECTUEE VI. 
 
 ON THE ORIGINAL PRINCIPLES OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 
 " Be ye holy, for I am holy." — 1 Petep. i. 16. 
 
 I laid before you, in last Lecture, all that I deem it 
 necessary to say with regard to the rule or law of duty, — 
 the immediate ground of moral obligation to man, and, in 
 its essential principles, I doubt not, however modified by 
 peculiarities of condition, the ground of such obligation to 
 the whole intelligent universe, — the universe of account- 
 able agents, subjects of God's moral administration. I 
 have shown, that if God sustains the character of a moral 
 Governor, and man is a subject of his dominion, it follows 
 unavoidably, that the law of the subject's duty can be 
 nothing else than the supreme will ; — that the knowledge 
 of this will was originally possessed by intuitive discern- 
 ment, and, being " written on the heart," found a disposi- 
 tion there perfectly consentaneous to every iota of its holy 
 requirements ; — that through the defection of man from 
 his uprightness of heart, the knowledge of God himself, 
 and consequently the knowledge of God's will, has been 
 fearfully impaired, and, although still discovering itself in 
 the dictates of his conscience, yet has necessarily been 
 bereft of its certainty and its consistency as a standard of 
 moral rectitude ; — and that this knowledge, lost in con- 
 sequence of the sinful aversion of the human heart to 
 retain it, has, through the unmerited favour of God, been 
 restored in divine revelation. 
 
 I. L 
 
146 ORIGIN OF 
 
 We shall now endeavour to ascend a step higher. But, 
 while we make the attempt, we would bear in our re- 
 membrance the sacredness and the loftiness of our theme, 
 and the difficulties which must ever be involved in all 
 such investigations as are ultimately connected with the 
 infinite nature, and the boundless administration of Deity. 
 We cannot enter into the mind of the Eternal. We can- 
 not read it in its own light. That is his own prerogative. 
 " What man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit 
 of man which is in him? Even so the things of God 
 knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God." What we know 
 of Him is all derived and mediate, and can extend no 
 further than, in his sovereign pleasure, in whatever way, 
 he may think fit to reveal himself. — It becomes us, there- 
 fore, to beware, that we do not, with unhallowed and 
 presumptuous hand, tear asunder the vail that conceals 
 the "Holy Place of the Most High," — the mysterious 
 inner sanctuary, where are the dread symbols of his 
 presence, and into which it is death to force an unwar- 
 ranted entrance. But " the way into this holiest of all " 
 has, we think, to a certain degree, been " made manifest ; " 
 so that, "taking off our shoe from our foot," as on "holy 
 ground," we may, under his own permission, enter " with 
 reverence and godly fear," and try what we can discover of 
 the secret counsels of Him who " dwelleth between the 
 cherubim." 
 
 It appears, then, to be a sentiment which, so far from 
 there being any presumption in affirming its truth, it 
 would be dishonourable to the Divine Being to question, 
 — that, while to his creatures his will is the immediate 
 rule of duty and ground of obligation, yet, in its legislative 
 prescriptions, that will is not capricious and arbitrary ; 
 that there must be certain principles by which it is itself 
 determined, conformity to which is what, in his estimation, 
 constitutes right, and disconformity, wrong; and by 
 which, consequently, the rules of duty prescribed by him 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 147 
 
 to his intelligent offspring are dictated; — that, in short, 
 with regard to every moral duty, there is an important 
 sense, in which the proposition, however startling the 
 terms of it may be to inconsiderate minds, is manifestly 
 true, — that it is not right because God wills it, but that God 
 wills it because it is right. — And this leads us at once to 
 our present point. It is in that, whatsoever it be, on 
 
 ACCOUNT OF WHICH GOD WILLS IT, AND CONFORMITY TO WHICH 
 CONSTITUTES IT IN HIS EYES RIGHT, THAT THE ORIGINAL, OR 
 ELEMENTARY AND ESSENTIAL PRINCIPLES OF MORAL VIRTUE 
 PROPERLY CONSIST. 
 
 "After all that can be said," writes Bishop Horsley, 
 " and said with truth, about the immutable distinctions of 
 right and wrong, and the eternal fitnesses of things, it 
 should seem that the will of God is the true foundation of 
 moral obligation : for I cannot understand how any man's 
 bare perception of the natural seemliness of one action 
 and unseemliness of another, should bring him under an 
 obligation on all occasions to do the one and to avoid the 
 other, at the hazard of his life, to the detriment of his 
 fortune, or even to the diminution of his own ease, which 
 suffers diminution in every instance in which he lays a 
 restraint upon his inclination ; — I say, I cannot under- 
 stand how the bare perception of good in actions of one 
 sort, or of evil in actions of another, should create such an 
 obligation, that a man, if he were not accountable to a. 
 superior for the conduct of his life, should yet be criminal^ 
 if, in the view of his own happiness and ease, he should 
 sometimes think proper to omit the action he "admires, 
 and to do that which he disapproves. On such obligation, 
 therefore, arising from the intuitive perception of right 
 and wrong, it follows, that, notwithstanding the reality of 
 those differences, and the immutable nature of the two 
 things, still the obligation upon man to act in conformity 
 to these perceptions arises from the will of God, who 
 enjoins a conformity of our conduct to these natural per- 
 
1 18 ORIGIN OF 
 
 ceptions of our minds, and binds the obligation by assur- 
 ances, that what we lose of present gratification shall be 
 amply compensated in a future retribution, and by threat- 
 ening the disobedient with heavier ills than the restraints 
 of self-denial, or the loss of life." — " Now, although this 
 fitness and propriety," says the Bishop again, "be not the 
 origin of moral obligation among men, yet it is indeed 
 a higher principle ; for it is that from which that will of 
 God himself originates, by which the natural discernment 
 of our consciences acquires the force of a law for the 
 regulation of our lives." And again: — "We discern in 
 these natural duties that intrinsic worth and seemliness, 
 which is the motive that determines the divine ivill to exact 
 the performance of them from the rational part of his 
 creation ; for God's will is not arbitrary, but directed by 
 his goodness and his wisdom. Or, to go a step higher, 
 the natural excellence of these duties, we may reasonably 
 presume, was the original motive which determined the 
 Deity to create beings who should be capable of being 
 brought to that dignity of character which a proficiency in 
 virtue confers, and enjoying, in their improved state of 
 moral worth, a corresponding happiness."* 
 
 Let not the introduction of such quotations be interpreted 
 by any of my hearers, as implying my approbation of every 
 incidental sentiment, or mode of expression, which they 
 may contain. In the present instance, for example, I 
 should strongly demur to the closing sentence of the cita- 
 tions just made, which seems to convey the idea that crea- 
 tures were formed, or might be formed, by the infinitely 
 holy Creator, which at the time of their formation, were 
 only " capable of being brought to that dignity of character 
 which a proficiency in virtue confers :" — for surely, every 
 rational creature, when fresh from the creating hand of 
 immaculate purity, must have been not merely capable of 
 
 * Horsley's Sermons, Vol. IT. Sena. XXI. 
 
MOEAL OBLIGATION. 149 
 
 attaining, but in actual possession of this dignity. " God 
 made man upright." It is, in every case, not an acquired, 
 but a native dignity : and if, in the character of any intel 
 ligent creature, we find a " proficiency in virtue still to be 
 acquired" we may be certain that that creature is in a state 
 of degeneracy from its original rectitude. God has given 
 being to creatures, who have subsequently lost their "pro- 
 ficiency in virtue ;" but we cannot imagine him to bring 
 into existence such as, after their creation, require to be 
 "brought" by him to this proficiency. Any state of 
 created intelligence that is short of sinless perfection 
 must be a fallen state, from which, through the operation 
 of some system of moral means provided by the mercy of 
 the Sovereign, there may be progressive stages of recovery. 
 Such is the condition of man. I have cited from Horsley, 
 chiefly for the sake of the general sentiment contained in 
 the extracts ; namely, that there are eternal fitnesses by 
 which the will of God is itself determined, and conformity 
 to which constitutes its necessary and immutable recti- 
 tude. Allow me, however, to analyse a little closely this 
 sentiment. 
 
 I have granted, as a position which it would be pro- 
 fanity to dispute,* that the will of the infinitely wise and 
 good is not arbitrary, but " directed by his wisdom and 
 his goodness." — When, however, we speak of conformity to 
 certain fitnesses of things constituting the rectitude of the 
 Divine will, it may be deserving of our attentive consider- 
 ation, whether we are not proceeding upon the supposi- 
 tion of what can have no possible subsistence, — a standard, 
 namely, of relative abstractions — of fitnesses independent 
 of all being. Whenever we utter the word " fitnesses," we 
 unavoidably have in our minds the conception of existing 
 beings, with certain relations subsisting between them, to 
 which particular dispositions and modes of conduct are 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note N. 
 
150 origin of 
 
 conceived to have a natural and necessary adaptation, — 
 such an adaptation, that the incongruity and unseemli- 
 ness of their opposites is intuitively discerned by every 
 rightly-constituted mind. — But what do we mean, when 
 we speak of these fitnesses as eternal? If they are fit- 
 nesses of relation (and what else can they be ?) it is clear 
 that they can be eternal no otherwise than hypothetically ; 
 that is, they can be eternal, only as subsisting in the 
 Divine mind itself, in connexion with the prospective 
 contemplation of existences to come, between which such 
 relations should arise, — relations to himself, and relations 
 to one another, — of creature to creature, and of creatures 
 to God. These fitnesses could not be antecedent to God ; 
 for nothing could precede eternity, — the uncommencing 
 existence of the great " I am." Neither could they exist 
 abstractedly from God, or independently of him ; for then 
 we should have fitnesses independent of all being ; — than 
 which I greatly deceive myself if there can be any thing 
 more self- contradictory and impossible. — Whenever we 
 imagine (or make the supposition in words, for of really 
 conceiving it, even in imagination, I doubt our capability) 
 all being annihilated, we imagine at the same time, the 
 entire cessation of all relations, and consequently of all 
 fitnesses. We speculate about a nonentity when we 
 speculate about moral principles in the absence of all 
 existence. 
 
 When creation began, we know not. There were angels, 
 and there was a place of angelic habitation, before the 
 creation of man and of the world destined for his resi- 
 dence ; — and even amongst these pure spiritual essences, 
 there had been a rebellion, and a fall. How long these 
 spirits had existed, and how many other orders of being 
 besides, it is vain for us to conjecture ; for conjecture 
 could lead to nothing surer than itself. But of one thing 
 we are certain ; — that how far back soever we suppose the 
 commencement of creation carried, — let it be, not only 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 151 
 
 beyond the actual range (if a definite range it can be said 
 to have) of the human imagination, but even beyond the 
 greatest number of ages that figures, in any way com- 
 bined, could be made to express; still there was an 
 eternity preceding, — an eternity, from which this unima- 
 ginable and incomputable duration has not made even the 
 minutest deduction ; for it is the property of eternity, that 
 it can neither be lengthened by the addition, nor shortened 
 by the subtraction, of the longest possible periods of time. 
 Before the commencement of creation, therefore, — before 
 the fiat of Omnipotence which gave being to the first 
 dependent existence, and dated the beginning of time, — in 
 infinite and incomprehensible solitude, yet in the bound- 
 less self-sufficiency of his blessed nature, feeling no want 
 and no dreariness, — Jehovah had, from eternity, existed 
 alone ! — There is something awfully sublime in this con- 
 ception of Deity. Our minds are overwhelmed, when we 
 attempt to think of infinite space, even as it is replenished 
 with its millions of suns and their attendant systems of 
 inhabited worlds : — but still more are they baffled and put 
 to a stand, when we try to form a conception of immensity, 
 before sun or star existed, before any creature had a being, 
 — of immensity, filled with nothing but the pure, ethereal, 
 invisible essence of the great uncreated Spirit. When we 
 think of the millions of worlds, with all their interminable 
 varieties of spiritual and material, animate and inanimate, 
 brute and intelligent, tribes of being, there is unavoidably 
 in our minds the conception of Deity as having, in the 
 superintendence of all his works of wisdom, power, and 
 goodness, at once incessant occupation and exhaustless 
 sources of enjoyment. But when we set our imaginations 
 to the task of blotting out creation, — of annihilating all 
 but God, and endeavour to fancy the vast solitudes of 
 immensity, with no existence whatever save that of the 
 unseen all-pervading Deity, — and conceive of this Being, 
 as having from eternity been in possession of infinite 
 
152 ORIGIN OF 
 
 enjoyment, — all within himself, — not at all requiring to 
 put forth his creative power on his own account, in order 
 to supply any lack, any felt deficiency ; — our conception of 
 him, although it may be less brilliant and less inviting, 
 yet has in it, from its very undefined mysteriousness, a 
 more appalling grandeur ; a grandeur, which is depressed 
 rather than elevated, diminished rather than amplified, by 
 the obtrusion upon the scene of solitary vastness of the 
 rising magnificence of the created universe. It is the 
 grandeur of self-sufficiency, — the majesty of eternal inde- 
 pendence. We may feel it more easy to contemplate the 
 Godhead through the medium of his works, and withal 
 more attractive and pleasing, because it brings into play 
 the feelings generated by the relations in which he stands 
 to created existences, and the attributes of character 
 which those relations unfold : — but, although we are 
 sensible that there is a coldness in the undefined con- 
 ception of solitary infinitude — of a Being existing by 
 himself, unrelated, and holding no communion with any 
 mind but his own ; yet, chilling as the abstraction is, it is 
 the dullness of a deeper awe, — an awe, which annihilates 
 self in the presence of that mysterious Being, who, before 
 a creature existed, and even for a preceding eternity, 
 possessed within himself all that was necessary to infinite 
 and unchanging felicity ! 
 
 But I must not allow such thoughts to draw me into 
 too wide a digression from my present point. When, in 
 tracing back existence, from the simple postulate that 
 something now is, we arrive at the great First Cause, the 
 Originator of all being but his own ; and with a certainty 
 strictly demonstrative, come to the conclusion that this 
 great First Cause is a Being that exists by an absolute 
 necessity of nature ; — we are at once sensible that we can 
 go no further. We have reached the ultimate point, 
 beyond which there is nothing, and can be nothing. — It 
 is true, that when we speak of Deity as existing by an 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. l5o 
 
 absolute necessity, we use language which involves in it 
 a great deal more than we are capable of distinctly com- 
 prehending: — but it is not by our capacity of compre- 
 hension that we are to measure truth ; it is by the results 
 of legitimate ratiocination. The conclusions to which we 
 are conducted, may, in their vastness and abstruseness, be 
 full of mystery, — they may have in them " a length and 
 breadth, and depth and height, passing knowledge," — 
 while yet they are so sure, that every attempt even to 
 imagine the contrary involves us in palpable contra- 
 diction.* 
 
 Thus is is with regard to the divine existence. Now the 
 very same process of reasoning which we apply to his 
 existence, is, with equal legitimacy, applicable to his 
 nature. If he exists by an absolute necessity, then by the 
 same necessity he not only is, but is what he is. — And, 
 whether his nature be considered physically, intellectually, 
 or morally, the observation is equally true. Whatever 
 attributes belong to it, they belong to it by the same 
 necessity that is predicated of its existence. If, therefore, 
 in tracing back existence, we arrive at our ultimate point 
 in Deity, — being arrested and fixed in the eternal necessity 
 of his being ; must not the same be the result, in tracing 
 to their origin the principles of moral rectitude ? — Here, 
 also, do not we reach our ultimate point in Deity ? If we 
 cannot go further back in regard to being, can we in regard 
 to principle ? Are we not arrested and fixed by the eternal 
 necessity of the principles of the divine character, — the 
 attributes or qualities of the divine nature, — just as really, 
 and as finally, as we are by the necessity of the divine 
 existence ? It must be in the moral world as it is in the 
 physical ; with regard to virtue, as with regard to matter 
 and mind. In tracing back existence, we come to the 
 necessity of God's being ; in tracing back principles, we 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note 0. 
 
154 011IGIX OF 
 
 come to the necessity of God's character. In neither case 
 can we reach any further than to this point of necessity. 
 Here we are constrained to stop : — and, when we have 
 thus resolved the ultimate principles of moral rectitude in 
 the creature, into conformity with the eternal and immut- 
 able archetype of all excellence in the nature of the God- 
 head, our minds repose, in delightful satisfaction, on this 
 secure resting-place. To talk of any fitnesses of things 
 by which, as a standard, the rectitude of that nature itself is 
 to be tried and ascertained, is as inconsiderate as it is 
 profane : — for, not only is this to suppose fitnesses exist- 
 ing independently of all being whatever, which is sheer 
 absurdity ; it is, at the same time, going beyond necessity, 
 and assuming something ulterior, according to which that 
 which is necessary must be ; which is a plain contradiction 
 in terms. 
 
 I know not whether I have carried your minds along 
 with my own ; — but here I feel that I must stay my flight. 
 The eye of human reason must not attempt to penetrate, 
 nor the wing of human fancy to soar, beyond the throne 
 of the Eternal. It is a bold flight for a creature even to 
 approach it; but, when the flight is attempted for the 
 devout purpose of laying at the feet of " Him that sitteth 
 upon the throne " the homage of his own creation, and — 
 (the wing that has borne us to his seat, covering our faces 
 in his presence) — of acknowledging and adoring Him, as 
 at once the origin of all existence, and the prototype of 
 all excellence, it will not, we humbly trust, be condemned 
 as presumptuous. 
 
 The conclusion to which we have come, while it seems 
 the obvious dictate of enlightened reason, has the addi- 
 tional recommendation to the pious mind, of being emi- 
 nently glorifying to God. It is, that, instead of any abstract 
 fitnesses being the standard or measure of the Divine 
 nature, the Divine nature must itself be the origin and the 
 standard of all fitnesses : — that, just as the necessary exist- 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 155 
 
 ence of Deity is the origin, or punctum saliens, of all other 
 being, so the necessary moral principles of the Divine 
 nature are the source and pattern of all other excellence : — 
 and that virtue in the creature is conformity to this divine 
 original. And from this it follows further, that, the essen- 
 tial principles of rectitude having existed in Deity before 
 creation, and being consequently altogether independent 
 of the relations to which creation gave rise, — the fitnesses 
 of all these relations, and of the duties respectively arising 
 out of them, are not standards, but only manifestations, 
 of the principles of the Divine character, having all of 
 them their origin from those principles, and being all of 
 course in harmony with them. Why Deity is what He is, 
 is a question which can never be asked but by a combina- 
 tion of presumptuous impiety and egregious folly. We 
 can say no more than what we have said, that he is what 
 he is by an eternal and unalterable necessity. And, on 
 the grounds which have been mentioned, it matters little 
 whether we speak of moral goodness as consisting in con- 
 formity to his nature or in conformity to his will; there 
 being a perfect and necessary coincidence between the one 
 and the other ; his will being the counterpart of his nature, 
 and the expression and indication of his character to his 
 rational creatures. 
 
 In this view, we might regard the words of our text as 
 the voice of Jehovah, not to the particular tribe of mankind 
 merely to whom they were specially addressed, but to the 
 rational universe. Assuming his own infinitely perfect 
 nature as the pattern of principle for all creatures endowed 
 with intelligence, we may conceive Him as issuing through 
 all worlds the brief but comprehensive and authorita- 
 tive mandate — " Be ye holy, for I am holy." — It is the lan- 
 guage of absolute underived supremacy ; the language of 
 Him on whom all creation depends, and who is himself 
 independent of all creation, — who rules a subject universe, 
 swaying no hereditary or delegated sceptre, but the sceptre 
 
150 ORIGIN OF 
 
 of eternal, indefeasible, intransferable right. His holiness 
 is not conformity to the holiness of another ; but the holi- 
 ness of every other is conformity to his. He had no supe- 
 rior, — no one before him, no one above him, who could 
 hold himself forth as an exemplar, and say to Him — " Be 
 holy, for I am holy." The language is exclusively his own. 
 And what higher or better reason can be assigned, why 
 creatures should be holy, than that their Creator is holy, 
 and that it is his will that the subjects of his moral admi- 
 nistration should resemble himself? 
 
 Having thus, then, ascertained the origin of moral obli- 
 gation, — the primary principles of rectitude, as subsisting 
 in the nature of the infinite God ; we start again from this 
 point, in a new course of observation. We have reasoned 
 backward, till we have arrived at principles that are neces- 
 sary and eternal : — we may now trace forward these prin- 
 ciples in their practical development, and see to what 
 results, in the theory of moral science, we may thus be 
 conducted. 
 
 What were the occupations of the Divine mind, during 
 the eternity that preceded creation ? — We feel as if we 
 were chargeable with presumption, in having even so much 
 as ventured to put the question into words ; — so infinitely 
 is the subject beyond the range of our short-sighted specu- 
 lations, — wrapt in a secrecy so profound and awful, — the 
 secrecy of Him, " whom no man hath seen or can see," — 
 of the depths of whose nature there is no line of created 
 intelligence that can take the soundings. — Of one thing, 
 however, we are sure ; that at what point soever this 
 Being began to put forth the energy of his creative might, 
 there must have been a perfect fitness, or congruity, 
 between his acts and the principles of his moral nature ; a 
 congruity fully apparent to his own mind, and clearly dis- 
 cernible by every mind formed with a participation of his 
 own intelligence. This congruity is what the inspired 
 historian of the creation expresses, when, after recording 
 
MOKAL OBLIGATION. 157 
 
 the six days' work, he says — "And God saw every thing 
 that he had made, and behold it was very good." And 
 indeed, it is on this necessary congruity that the entire 
 process is founded of reading in the works the character 
 of the Maker. Were it at all possible, that the product of 
 any act of his power should be out of harmony with any 
 attribute of his character, it would cease to be possible for 
 his creatures, however intelligent, and however unbiassed 
 in the exercise of their intelligence by any moral obliquity 
 of disposition, to read nature's lessons with any clearness, 
 or to arrive at truth with any certainty. The fault, in that 
 case, would not be in the reader, but in the book. The 
 oracle being ambiguous, no blame could be attached to 
 those who understood it in different ways. — These things 
 are sufficiently plain. Since the commencement of crea- 
 tion, the Almighty has not only been the Governor of 
 moral agents, he has been an agent himself; and, in all his 
 own procedure, we must, without doubt, conceive of him 
 as acting in the strictest agreement with the immutable 
 principles of his character. — By these principles, therefore, 
 essentially and eternally inherent in his nature, he was 
 guided in the formation of the universe, — in fixing the 
 constitutions, allotting the circumstances, and adjusting 
 the mutual relations, of all his creatures. And of this it 
 was a natural and necessary consequence, that these same 
 principles, transferred from the Creator to the creature, 
 emanating from the nature of the one to the nature of the 
 other, became, in their exercise, the creature's happiness 
 in time, as they had been his own from eternity. — I speak 
 now of his rational creation. The principles of his moral 
 nature were such, it is true, as to insure, in the exercise 
 of his omnipotence, the communication of happiness to 
 the whole range of sentient as well as of intelligent being. 
 But our present discussion relates to those who, in the 
 possession of reason and of holiness, were made " after 
 God's own image." In them, the principles of moral 
 
158 OBIGIN OF 
 
 rectitude, being a transfusion from the fulness of Deity, 
 were the same in kind as in the fulness from which they 
 were imparted, — the same in the created nature as in the 
 uncreated, — the same in the stream as in the fountain. 
 No stream but a pure stream could flow from the fountain 
 of purity. — This necessary conformity of the character of 
 the intelligent creature to that of his holy Creator was 
 exemplified in man. His nature was then a fair and 
 faithful indication of the nature of God ; the excellence of 
 the Maker being made apparent in the excellence of his 
 work. Man himself, in his own consciousness, possessed 
 this inward witness for God ; and in his character he pre- 
 sented the testimony to others. Angels saw in him the 
 image of the same pure and blessed Being from whom 
 they had received their own holy and happy nature. — But 
 man, as an apostate and degenerate creature, is in an 
 unnatural and anomalous state ; so that, as formerly 
 observed, the lesson of the moral perfection of the 
 Creator is not now to be read in what he is, but rather in 
 the means which have been devised and brought into 
 operation, to make him again what he was: — and these 
 means it is the special province of revelation to discover. 
 — I am speaking at present of the general principle, not of 
 the particular exception : — and the principle is one which 
 I may surely assume as beyond contradiction, that, 
 throughout the whole range of being, there was a har- 
 mony between creation and the principles of rectitude in 
 the Creator. From this arises the immediate consequence, 
 that, the principles being developed in creation, creation 
 becomes, reciprocally, a test or criterion of the principles. 
 Power and skill framed and furnished the material uni- 
 verse ; and hence, in all the parts of the material universe 
 that come within our observation, we discern the traces, 
 clear and numberless, of power and skill. The manifesta- 
 tion of moral principle, — that is, of the holiness of the 
 Divine character, — is to be looked for, of course, only in 
 
MORAL OBLIG AT ION. ]59 
 
 the department of intelligent creation : — and there, we 
 may be assured, could we have surveyed the universe in 
 its first estate, we should have seen, in every part of it, 
 the traces, as clear and numberless, of untainted purity 
 as of wisdom and might. The same thing is equally true 
 of benevolence. — The entire process of creation, in short, 
 in all its amplitude and in all its details, having been con- 
 ducted in conformity with all the attributes of the Creator, 
 these attributes come of course to be discernible in their 
 results, and ascertainable from them. 
 
 I come to the point towards which these remarks have 
 been directed. Here, I apprehend, is the proper position 
 for the theory of utility. If, instead of representing 
 utility as the foundation of the principles of moral recti- 
 tude, or as that on account of which they are to be regarded 
 as right, the utilitarian theorists had represented it as a 
 manifestation of the nature and tendency of those principles, 
 they would have come nearer to the truth. It must be 
 obvious to every mind, that a principle may in its nature, 
 when put into practical exercise, be fitted to produce 
 happiness, whilst yet the production of happiness is not 
 that which constitutes the rectitude of the principle. 
 While I more than hesitate to admit, that utility, or the 
 tendency to happiness, is the ultimate principle into which 
 moral rectitude is to be resolved, there can be no hesita- 
 tion in admitting, that happiness is the direct and invari- 
 able result of the putting forth of the principles of moral 
 rectitude on the part of the Godhead ; — and, as a conse- 
 quence, that, when understood in its proper extent, and 
 estimated by a mind of capacity sufficient to comprehend that 
 extent, utility, though not itself constituting rectitude, 
 becomes its legitimate and correct criterion. 
 
 But I must be allowed to explain what I mean by the 
 proper extent of the import of the term, and by the neces- 
 sity for a sufficiently comprehensive mind to make it the 
 rule of judgment. In the first place, there are few or 
 
160 ORIGIN OF 
 
 none of our utilitarian philosophers who give comprehen- 
 sion enough to the term utility. Some speak very loosely 
 of what is useful to ourselves, or to others, without either 
 defining what they mean by useful, or intimating whether 
 they take into their estimate of it the present life only, 
 or the whole extent of our existence. Others take a wider 
 range. They speak of the good of the universe, — of the 
 happiness of the entire system of created beings, — of what 
 is useful on the whole. But even this, vast as the idea is, 
 appears to me too limited. There is a view of tendencies 
 that is prior and superior to the benefit of creation, — one, 
 at the same time, with which the benefit of creation is 
 intimately and necessarily associated. In an estimate of 
 tendencies, or in considering what any particular created 
 existence, or any prescribed action or course of conduct, 
 is good for, what would be the first thing that would pre- 
 sent itself to the mind of an angel' of light ? Would it not 
 be — the glory of God ? The glory of God, I have admitted, 
 is inseparably associated with the good of the universe, 
 and essential to its attainment ; but still it is above it, — 
 first in order, first in magnitude. He who can fancy to 
 himself any thing connected with creation, of what extent 
 and value soever, to which the glory of the Supreme 
 Creator ought to give place and yield the precedence, has 
 reason to examine the reality of his devotion, as well as 
 the soundness of his philosophy. There is an essential 
 defect in the sense affixed to the term utility, when this 
 first and highest branch of it is left out of the account : — 
 and the defect, whatever men may think of it, is indicative 
 of the ungodliness of our nature. When we do take the 
 term in its due fulness of comprehension, we then, assur- 
 edly, have before our minds, all that we can imagine to 
 have been in the Creator's view, in the production and 
 arrangement of the great system of being : — the glory of 
 his own name, and the happiness of all else that exists, 
 exhausting all the possibilities of final causation. And 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 161 
 
 from this it unquestionably follows, that whatever in 
 conduct is in harmony with the glory of God and the 
 good of the universe, cannot fail to be also in harmony 
 with the principles of moral rectitude. 
 
 But then, secondly, the criterion is one prodigiously too 
 vast and complicated, to be brought into application by 
 our minds, or by the mind of any creature. On which 
 account, there cannot be a more egregious error, than to 
 propose the scheme of utility as a rule for the direction of 
 human conduct. The same difficulties would beset us in 
 applying this criterion of duty, as those by which we are 
 embarrassed and overwhelmed, when we presume to sit in 
 judgment on the administration of divine providence. In 
 no step of God's providential procedure can there be any 
 higher end in contemplation than the greatest measure of 
 glory to himself and of good to the universe. But the 
 connexions of events are so intricate, and their relative 
 bearings and tendencies so inconceivably complicated ; 
 there are, in the machinery that works out the divine 
 purposes, so many "wheels within wheels," of which the 
 slightest disadjustment might give occasion to the most 
 mischievous results ; incidents the most trivial, and events 
 the most momentous, are so intimately blended and reci- 
 procally linked together, as causes and effects ; that no 
 creature can, a priori, be a competent judge with regard 
 to the ultimate consequences of even the most apparently 
 insignificant occurrence. 
 
 The application of the case to the one before us is too 
 obvious to require illustration ; and I fear I am repeating, 
 to too great an extent, what was said in other terms in a 
 former Lecture. Bear with me, however, on account of 
 the special importance of the theory, and for the sake of 
 the conclusion to which my observations are now designed 
 to conduct. Even setting the glory of the Divine Being 
 aside, what can our minds make of the good of the Uni- 
 verse, — nay, of the good even of our own system, or of 
 
 I. M 
 
102 ORIGIN OF 
 
 our own world ? Were we capable, indeed, of estimating 
 the good of creation, and of determining what is conducive 
 and what prejudicial to it, we should be capable also, it 
 might be alleged, of settling what is for the glory of God ; 
 his infinite benevolence having so united his own glory 
 with the universal good, that, wherever there can be es- 
 tablished a decided tendency to the latter, the conclusion 
 is involved of a tendency also to the former. But neither 
 the one nor the other is at all within the range of our 
 limited faculties. " The welfare of the whole system of 
 being," says Robert Hall,* (and our only objection to the 
 language is, that in the mind of the admirable writer 
 there appears to have been, at the time, rather too exclu- 
 sive a reference to the system of created being) ; — " the 
 welfare of the whole system of being must be allowed to 
 be, in itself, the object of all others the most worthy to be 
 pursued ; so that, could the mind distinctly embrace it, 
 and discern at every step what action would infallibly 
 promote it, we should be furnished with a sure criterion 
 of right and wrong, — an unerring guide, which would 
 supersede the use and necessity of all inferior rules, laws, 
 and principles. But this being impossible, since the 
 good of the whole is a motive so loose and indeterminate, 
 and embraces such an infinity of relations, that, before 
 we could be certain Avhat action it prescribed, the season 
 for action would be past ; to weak short-sighted mortals 
 providence has assigned a sphere of agency, less grand, 
 indeed, and extensive, but better suited to their limited 
 powers, by implanting certain affections which it is their 
 duty to cultivate, and suggesting particular rules to which 
 they are bound to conform." 
 
 In a word, — the test is manifestly one which no mind 
 but the Divine is possessed of sufficient extension of 
 knowledge and intuitive certainty of discernment, to 
 
 * Sermon on Modern Infidelity. — Works, Vol. I. pp. 5G, 57. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 163 
 
 apply, with any approach to precision. What, then, is 
 the conclusion ? The conclusion is, that it must be applied 
 by Deity for us; and, in what way soever may seem to him 
 best, Deity must communicate to us the results : — which 
 leads us, by a somewhat different route, to the same point 
 at which we formerly arrived ; the communication of such 
 results amounting to the same thing with the revelation to 
 us of his will ; and his will, so discovered, becoming the 
 rule or law of our conduct. 
 
 The celebrated American theologian, President Dwight, 
 while he maintains the principle that " virtue is founded in 
 utility" disclaims utility as the rule of virtue to us, and 
 rests his disclaimer on similar grounds to those which 
 have just been stated. — After mentioning, as the great 
 objection to his doctrine, " that if virtue is founded in 
 utility, then utility becomes the measure of virtue, and of 
 course the rule of all our moral conduct;" — "This," says 
 he, " is the error of Godwin, and, in an indefinite degree, 
 of Paley, and several other writers. Were we omniscient, 
 and able to discern the true nature of all the effects of 
 our conduct, this consequence must undoubtedly be 
 admitted. To the eye of God it is the real rule. It will 
 not, I trust, be denied, that he has chosen and required 
 that to be done by his intelligent creatures, which is most 
 useful ; or, in other words, most productive of good to 
 the universe and of glory to himself; rather than that 
 which is less so. But to us, utility, as judged of by our- 
 selves, cannot be a proper rule of moral conduct. The real 
 usefulness of our conduct, or its usefulness upon the 
 whole, lies in the nature of all its effects, considered as 
 one aggregate. But nothing is more evident, than that 
 few, very few indeed, of these can ever be known to us by 
 our own foresight. If the information given us by the 
 Scriptures concerning this subject, were to be lost; we 
 should be surprised to see, how small was the number of 
 cases, in which this knowledge was attainable, even in a 
 
1G4 ORIGIN OF 
 
 moderate degree, and how much uncertainty attended 
 even these. As, therefore, we are unable to discern, with 
 truth or probability, the real usefulness of our conduct, it 
 is impossible that our moral actions can be safely guided 
 by this rule." — " As well might a man determine, that a 
 path, whose direction he can discern only for a furlong, 
 will conduct him in a straight course to a city distant 
 from him a thousand miles, as determine that an action 
 whose immediate tendency he perceives to be useful, will 
 therefore be useful through a thousand years, or even 
 through ten. How much less able must he be to per- 
 ceive, what will be its real tendency in the remote ages of 
 endless duration ! It is impossible, therefore, that utility, 
 as decided by our judgment, should become the rule of 
 moral action."- — He accordingly comes to the same con- 
 clusion with ourselves : finding in the " precepts of the 
 Sacred Volume," '• the only safe rule by which moral 
 beings can, in this world, direct their conduct." f 
 
 Were I called upon for an exemplification of the danger 
 of leaving to the judgment of the creature the determina- 
 tion of what is for the best, I should point at once to the 
 first human transgression. It was committed on the very 
 principle of utility, or expediency : " The woman saw that 
 the tree was good for food, and pleasant to the eyes, and a 
 tree to be desired to make one wise. "J It was under a 
 partial and sadly mistaken view of appearances and conse- 
 quences, that the evil was done. Anticipated benefit to the 
 individual, and perhaps Eve might flatter herself, to her 
 whole future progeny, was the motive to its perpetration. 
 Shall we ever think, then, of setting up as the master prin- 
 ciple for the government of our conduct, one which proved 
 the temptation and ruin of man even in his uprightness, 
 and which, when applied by a creature that is corrupt, and. 
 blinded, and self-interested, cannot fail to prove incessantly 
 
 * Dwiglit's Theology, Sermon XC IX. t Ibid. J Gen. iii. 6. 
 
MOEAL OBLIGATION. ] 65 
 
 fallacious and seductive ? — a principle, which, when 
 applied by God himself, with a full and unerring 
 comprehension of all its relations, produces results that 
 are perfectly and necessarily correct, — but of which, 
 alas ! in reference to man, we are constrained to say, 
 as the Apostle says of the law — " It is weak, through the 
 flesh !" 
 
 In this first transgression, too, we have a satisfactory 
 confirmation of the principle, that to the creature, the will 
 of God is the immediate and proper ground of moral obli- 
 gation. In the prohibitory precept that was violated, and 
 the violation of which " brought death into the world and 
 all our woe," there is nothing discernible of a priori fitness, 
 — of conformity to the nature and relations of things ; — 
 nothing which, without the direct intimation of Heaven, 
 could have led our first parents to refrain from eating of 
 the forbidden tree, more than of any other. The obliga- 
 tion to abstinence arose, simply and exclusively, from the 
 will of God expressly made known to them ; and their sin, 
 consequently, consisted solely in the violation of that will. 
 Various important ends might be specified, as having been 
 answered by the selection of the particular kind of test by 
 which the principle of allegiance, in the progenitors of our 
 race, was put to the proof. At present, we only notice the 
 one that is immediately connected with our subject. It 
 was admirably fitted to teach the salutary lesson, wherein 
 the true essence of sin consisted ; not in the amount of phy- 
 sical mischief produced by it ; not even in the abstract 
 nature of the thing prohibited, on which man should be 
 left to speculate and decide for himself ; but simply in 
 op-position to God. Nothing could more clearly or im- 
 pressively inculcate the truth, that God's will was to be the 
 sole law of mail's duty. And the valuable moral lessons 
 which were thus conveyed by it ought, we may remark, to 
 redeem this particular in the Bible account of the primeval 
 condition of man from the unhallowed mockery with which 
 
1G6 ORIGIN OF 
 
 it has oftentimes been assailed by the profane scoffer and 
 the philosophic infidel. 
 
 I do feel as if some apology were necessary for so fre- 
 quent a recurrence to this particular theory. The defective 
 discussion of it formerly, however, arose from my having 
 purposely delayed further observations till this point of 
 our progress ; and the avoidance of anticipation has thus 
 given occasion to partial repetition. It appeared to me, 
 moreover, that the place which utility legitimately occupies 
 might be shown more distinctly and with greater effect, 
 now that we have seen its necessity, as a sequence from 
 the eternal principles put forth by the Divine Mind in the 
 creation and constitution of the universe. It would be 
 inexcusable to pass without notice the eminent names 
 which stand associated with the theory as its advocates, 
 and the different lights in which, by those different advo- 
 cates, it has been held and vindicated. With no intention 
 to depreciate others, I may be allowed to select two, whose 
 high merits none will dispute, — Dwight and Paley. 
 
 It has been my leading object, in the earlier part of this 
 discourse, to show that the principles of moral rectitude, 
 as subsisting in the character of Deity, possessed the same 
 eternal necessity as his existence ; — and in the later, 
 as a legitimate conclusion from this, that utility, or the 
 tendency to the production of happiness, is not what 
 constitutes those principles right, but rather the natural 
 and appropriate consequence of their rectitude ; in other 
 words, that they are not right because they produce happi- 
 ness, but that they produce happiness because they are 
 right; their nature not arising from their tendency, but 
 their tendency from their nature. I cannot help thinking, 
 that, partly from the want of due attention to this simple 
 distinction between the nature of a thing and its tendencies, 
 there is a degree of confusion in the statements of the 
 American divine to whom I formerly referred. He proves, 
 with a force of argument that cannot be withstood, the 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. IG7 
 
 absurdity of the hypothesis, by which the foundation of 
 virtue is placed in the will of God ;* and shows, that its 
 excellence lies in its own nature, to which the will of God 
 is conformed, and by which it is determined. Yet, at the 
 same time, he contends for the position that " virtue is 
 founded in utility,'" — meaning, by utility, " a tendency to 
 produce happiness." Let us examine a little the con- 
 sistency of these statements. " From these considera- 
 tions," says Dr. D wight, referring to preceding reasonings, 
 " it is, I apprehend, evident, that the foundation of virtue is 
 not in the will of God, but in the nature of things. The next 
 object of inquiry, therefore, is, Where, in the nature of things, 
 shall we find this foundation V In answer to this question, 
 he lays down and illustrates the two propositions, that "there 
 is no ultimate good but happiness," and that "virtue is the 
 only original cause of happiness." According to him, virtue 
 and vice are such because of their respective tendencies ; 
 that of the one to happiness, that of the other to misery. 
 "Were sin," says he, "in its own proper tendency, to pro- 
 duce, invariably, the same good which it is the tendency 
 of virtue to produce ; were it the means, invariably, of the 
 same glory to God, and of the same enjoyment to the uni- 
 verse, no reason is apparent to me, why it would not become 
 excellent, commendable, and rewardable, in the same man- 
 ner as virtue now is. Were virtue regularly to effectuate the 
 same dishonour to God and the same misery to intelligent 
 creatures, now effectuated by sin ; I see no reason why we 
 should not attribute to it all the odiousness, blameworthi- 
 ness, and desert of punishment, which we now attribute 
 to sin. All this," he adds, "is, I confess, impossible ; and is 
 rendered so by the nature of these things. Still the suppo- 
 sition may be allowably made for the sake of discussion." 
 Now here the confusion to which I have adverted is 
 
 * Theology, Serm. XCTX. From this Sermon, whfch is entitled " Utility 
 the Foundation of Virtue," all the subsequent citations are taken. 
 
168 ORIGIN OF 
 
 apparent. The foundation of virtue is not, he successfully 
 evinces, in the will of God, but in the nature of things. 
 " Where, in the nature of things," he then asks, " shall we 
 hnd this foundation ?*' And, in answer to this inquiry, he 
 tin ds the foundation in the tendency to the only ultimate 
 good — to happiness : — " Virtue is termed good, only as 
 being the cause of happiness." But, with all deference, I 
 would submit the query, whether this is finding the founda- 
 tion in the nature of things at all ? 
 
 The nature of things, and the tendency of things, it seems 
 very inadmissible thus to confound. And when the Doctor 
 admits the reversal of the respective results of virtue and vice 
 to be '•' rendered impossible by the nature of these things,'" he 
 himself recognizes the obvious distinction. To say, then, 
 that virtue is founded in utility, and, at the same time, that 
 virtue possesses a previous and essential nature, from which 
 it is that this utility arises, is manifestly incorrect. It is 
 confounding the effect with the cause, the stream with the 
 fountain, essential properties with their appropriate results. 
 I am aware that Dr. Dwight has given his own definition 
 of the "foundation of virtue." — "It is," says he, "that 
 which constitutes its value and excellence ;" and these he 
 finds exclusively in its tendencies and effects. — But still, 
 the tendencies and effects, we must contend, are not pro- 
 perly intrinsic excellence ; and it is in the intrinsic excel- 
 lence, or essential nature, of virtue that its foundation is to 
 be sought. "If virtue and vice," says Dr. Dwight, "had 
 originally, or as they were seen by the eye of God, no 
 moral difference in their nature ; then there was plainly 
 no reason why God should prefer, or why he actually pre- 
 ferred, one of them to the other." Now the "moral difference 
 in their nature " does not consist in their different tenden- 
 cies and effects; but their different tendencies and effects 
 are the appropriate indications of their respective natures.* 
 
 * I cannot but think that my friend Dr. Payne can hardly have read this 
 paragraph with attention, — else he would have spared certain strictures on 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 109 
 
 And the truth appears to be, as I have formerly stated it, 
 that the principles of moral rectitude are fixed by the neces- 
 sity of the Divine nature ; that this necessity is of course 
 independent of all tendencies and effects ; that these, as 
 evolved in creation and providence, are only the manifesta- 
 tion of the necessary nature of the Godhead ; that all that 
 is in conformity with the eternal principles of this nature, 
 is virtue, and all that is contrary to them, vice ; and that 
 the tendency of all virtue must, from the nature of things, 
 be the same with the tendency of those divine principles 
 in conformity to which it consists. 
 
 The same observations apply to the utilitarian system, 
 in what form and under what modifications soever it has 
 been maintained ; namely, that it makes that to constitute 
 virtue, or moral rectitude, which is rather a result of its 
 previous and essential nature. — The expediency of Dr. 
 Paley must come under a still heavier condemnation than 
 the loftier utility of Dr. Dwight. — There is nothing, it is 
 true, as to which Paley is more explicit, than that, what- 
 ever theory be adopted as to the principle of morals, the 
 rule is the will of God. — This is a position he frequently 
 repeats. — " Private happiness," says he, " is our motive, 
 and the will of God our rule ;" # — and again, "As the will 
 of God is our rule, to inquire what is our duty, or what we 
 are obliged to do, is, in effect, to inquire what is the will of 
 God in that instance : which, consequently, becomes the 
 whole business of morality. "f He afterwards proceeds to 
 show the different ways in which the Divine will is to be 
 ascertained. And here it is that the charge of Dr. Dwight 
 against him, in classing him with those who find the rule 
 as well as the principle of morals in utility, has its just 
 
 my representation of Dr. Dwight's views, at page 366 of the second edition 
 of his " Elements of Mental and Moral Science ;" — strictures which I do not 
 think worthy of his own acuteness, — and which, as in reality there is no dif- 
 ference hetween us, I leave to the reader's own judgment. 
 
 * Mor. and Polit. Phil. Book II. Chap. iii. t Ibid. Book II. Chap. iv. 
 
170 ORIGIN OF 
 
 applicatioD ; for, in regard to all practical purposes, it 
 amounts to the same thing, whether we consider the " ten- 
 dency to produce happiness" as the rule itself by which 
 we are to regulate our conduct, or as the standard and test 
 by which that rule is to be ascertained. The latter is the 
 position taken by Paley, wherever revelation is not pos- 
 sessed, and in all cases in which revelation may leave us 
 at a loss : — " The method of coming at the will of God 
 concerning any action, by the light of nature, is to inquire 
 into the tendency of the action to promote the general 
 happiness. This rule proceeds upon the presumption, 
 that God Almighty wills and wishes the happiness of his 
 creatures; and, consequently, that those actions, which 
 promote that will and wish must be agreeable to him, and 
 the contrary.''* — That " God Almighty wills and wishes 
 the happiness of his creatures," — being a proposition equi- 
 valent to the simple affirmation of the benevolence of the 
 divine nature, is not to be questioned ; and nowhere are 
 illustrations to be found of the truth of the proposition, as 
 it is exemplified in the constitution and phenomena of 
 animated nature, more beautiful and more convincing, 
 than in the writings of Paley himself. It is marvellous, 
 however, that he should not have been more sensible of 
 the preposterousness of expecting, from such a creature as 
 man, the correct application of such a test of right and 
 wrong as the conduciveness of actions to the general happi- 
 ness. And the wonder is not abated, when we read his own 
 description of the expediency (the term used by him to sum 
 up the tendencies to happiness) by which the judgment is 
 to be determined, and the cases of casuistry settled : — 
 " Whatever is expedient is right. But then, it must be ex- 
 pedient upon the whole, ;,t the long run, in all its effects, 
 collateral and remote, a- well as in those which are im- 
 mediate and direct; as it is obvious, that, in computing 
 
 * Mor. and Polit. PhiL Book II. Chap. iv. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 171 
 
 consequences, it makes no difference in what way, or at 
 what distance, they ensue."* We may surely exclaim, in 
 regard to the application of such a test — " Who is sufficient 
 for these things ?" Nay more. To make Dr. Paley con- 
 sistent with himself, the expediency which is the test 
 of virtue must comprehend not merely the immediate and 
 the most remote effects in time, but the consequences in 
 eternity ; for his very definition of virtue is — " the doing 
 good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, for the 
 sake of everlasting happiness."} — But it is not the impossi- 
 bility merely of rightly applying the criterion of the divine 
 will, that we complain of in this theory ; — we regard the 
 definition given of virtue as at once too limited in its field, 
 and too selfish in its motive. It is too limited in its field : 
 — for certainly there are many things that properly belong 
 to virtue, which cannot, without an undue extension of the 
 meaning of terms, be brought under the description of 
 " doing good to mankind." It is too selfish in its motive : 
 — for, while we are far from assenting to the extravagant 
 and visionary system, (a system contradicted alike by the 
 common sense of mankind and by the whole tenour of Scrip- 
 ture) which, by excluding self altogether from consideration 
 in the inducements to virtue, would divest us of that regard 
 to our own happiness, which is an essential part of our con- 
 stitution, and common to us with all sentient as well as 
 intelligent existence, — yet w r e conceive that when our own 
 happiness, even although it be " everlasting happiness," is 
 represented as the only efficient motive to the practice of 
 it, the motive degenerates from one of duly regulated self- 
 love, to one of absolute selfishness. In a future Lecture, 
 we shall have occasion to take more particular notice of 
 questions which have been agitated respecting the ne- 
 cessary disinterestedness of the principles and motives of 
 
 * Mor. and Polit. Phil. Book II. Chap.viii. 
 + Ibid. Book I. Chap. vii. 
 
1 7 "J ORIGIN OF 
 
 religious and moral duty, and the extent to which self-love 
 is admissible in their exercise. In touching on the senti- 
 ments of President Edwards, and others of the same school, 
 these questions will come before us. In the mean time, 
 there can be no hesitation in reprobating the selfishness 
 of the principle laid down by Dr. Paley. — After explaining, 
 in a manner not very satisfactory, what he means by obliga- 
 tion, he says,' — "From this account of obligation it follows, 
 that we can be obliged to nothing but what we ourselves 
 are to gain or lose something by ; for nothing else can be 
 a ' violent motive ' to us. As we should not be obliged to 
 obey the laws, or the magistrate, unless rewards or punish- 
 ments, pleasure or pain, somehow or other depended upon 
 our obedience ; so neither should we, without the same rea- 
 son, be obliged to do what is right, to practise virtue, or to 
 obey the commands of God.' 1 * — In distinguishing between 
 acts of duty and acts of prudence, he afterwards sums up 
 the distinction thus : — "In both the one and the other, we 
 consider solely what we shall gain or lose by the act ;" — 
 and " the difference, the only difference, is this, that in the 
 One case we consider what we shall gain or lose in the 
 present world ; in the other case, we consider also what 
 we shall gain or lose in the world to come."t May we not 
 justly apply to this extraordinary statement the maxim, 
 Majw et minus non variant specicm?\ Is not the motive 
 in either case the same in kind ? The only difference, 
 avowedly, is in the amount of benefit to ourselves con- 
 templated as the result ; from which it follows, that duty, 
 or virtue, is nothing more than a superior measure of 
 prudence. — " It is the utility of any moral rule alone," 
 says Dr. P., "that constitutes the obligation to it:" — 
 " Private happiness is our motive ; and the will of God 
 our rule." — It is admitted, that, from his nature, God 
 
 * Mor. and Polit. Phil. Book II. Chap. ii. 
 
 + Ibid. Book II. Chap. iii. 
 
 I " The degree of a thing makes no difference in its nature." 
 
MOEAL OBLIGATION. 173 
 
 can command nothing but what is fitted to promote the 
 happiness of his creatures ; that every precept of such 
 a Being must be not only " holy and just," but " good." 
 But still, it is fearful for a creature thus to shrink into the 
 littleness of self, and to calculate all his obligations to do 
 the will of his Creator and Sovereign solely by casting up 
 the account of personal benefit. There is in such a system 
 something ungenerous and ignoble, from which the mind 
 recoils with shame. Even on the supposition that the sole 
 consideration which dictated the commands of the God- 
 head, was the happiness of his creatures, it might reason- 
 ably have been expected, that those creatures, animated 
 by the impulse of a generous gratitude, sensible of the be- 
 nevolence to which they were thus indebted, should, on this 
 very account, have felt themselves bound to make the glory 
 of their all-gracious Euler their chief aim, and to act under 
 the influence of this motive as their most powerful impulse. 
 If he sought their happiness, they should seek his honour. 
 If benevolence commanded, piety should obey. The crea- 
 ture who can discover no ground of obligation but in 
 summing up the columns of self-interest (no matter whe- 
 ther for time or for eternity, the principle being the same), 
 is not actuated by piety ; for he is giving self the prefer- 
 ence to God ; placing his own benefit above the divine 
 glory; professing to obey God's will, but converting the 
 profession into an empty compliment, by rendering the 
 obedience from an exclusive regard to his own advantage. 
 I like not this mercantile morality ; — this pounds-shillings- 
 and-pence system of obligation and duty. I come still to 
 the same conclusion : — that, the principles of rectitude 
 necessarily subsisting in the divine character, the com- 
 mands of Deity to his creatures were necessarily in con- 
 formity with them ; — that the grounds of moral obligation 
 lie in the essential, eternal, and immutable nature of these 
 principles, in the relation of the great Creator to his crea- 
 tures, antecedently to all other considerations ; and that 
 
174 ORIGIN OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 
 
 the happiness resulting from conformity to his will, which 
 is the same thing as conformity to his character, is as 
 really the native and necessary effect of these principles, 
 as is the infinite and unchanging blessedness of the 
 Creator himself. 
 
 In next Lecture, we shall consider the identity of morality 
 and religion. 
 
LECTURE VII. 
 
 ON THE IDENTITY OF MORALITY AND RELIGION. 
 
 " This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments." 
 
 1 John v. 3. 
 
 We have traced the primary elements of morality back 
 to that point where all our researches must inevitably 
 terminate, — the necessity of the Divine nature. Beyond 
 this point we cannot go. Of the abstract subsistence of 
 principles, independent of all being whatever, we are 
 incapable of forming any conception ; nay, the very attempt 
 to form it involves us in immediate contradiction. There 
 can be no principles without mind; and to annihilate 
 mind is to annihilate principles. — Even the imaginary 
 annihilation of mind, moreover, is beyond our power ; for 
 were we capable of realizing in fancy the cessation of all 
 existence but our own, — our own remains, mocking all 
 our efforts at self- extinction. We still survive, in conscious 
 being, contemplating the universal desolation which our 
 fancy has made. — Before the commencement of creation, 
 when all being was comprehended in the solitary Godhead, 
 the Infinite Mind was the only seat of all existing prin- 
 ciples. The elements of moral rectitude were there, as 
 the necessary character of the necessarily existent Deity ; 
 and we can form no other idea of moral rectitude in his 
 creatures, than as the voluntary communication from 
 himself of the principles of his all-perfect nature. 
 
17C IDENTITY OF 
 
 From the necessary underived subsistence of these prin- 
 ciples in Deity, the inference is immediate, that they must 
 be ett rnal, immutable, and universal. They must be eternal: 
 for if their primary and necessary subsistence was in the 
 mind of the Godhead, to question their eternity is to 
 question his. They must be immutable: for as the ne- 
 cessity of his existence involves immutability, so does the 
 necessity of the principles of his character; — and, the 
 principles of his character forming the essential elements 
 of moral rectitude, these elements, while Deity remains 
 what he is, must possess a corresponding unchangeable- 
 ness. And from the same premises is derived, with no 
 less certainty, the conclusion of their universality. The 
 universe is the product of one Mind. There can be 
 nothing in it, therefore, which, when rightly understood, 
 will be found contradictory. As far as human research 
 has hitherto extended, wisdom and skill have been appa- 
 rent in all the departments of nature ; the increasing light 
 of science, instead of detecting any failures or defects, 
 having progressively illustrated known, and elicited un- 
 known, wonders ; and from the uniformity with which 
 every fresh accession to the means of scientific discovery 
 has added to the manifestations of divine intelligence, we 
 reasonably infer, that, could its investigations embrace the 
 whole extent of creation, the result would be still the 
 same. And if we assume infinite intelligence to belong 
 to Deity, there results a still surer hypothetical certainty, 
 that all the productions of that intelligence must be such 
 as to require knowledge alone on our part to insure the 
 discernment of their excellence. — In the same manner, 
 and with no less confidence, may we reason from the 
 moral principles of the Divine nature, to the substantial 
 identity of the principles of moral rectitude throughout 
 the universe. If we feel assured of universal consistency 
 in the manifestations of his intellectual, we can never 
 hesitate to admit the same assurance in regard to the 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 177 
 
 displays of his moral, character. The assurance in the 
 one case must he even stronger, were it possible, than in 
 the other. Our minds experience a more irresistible 
 revulsion from the supposition of any thing like a de- 
 parture from moral consistency, than they do from the 
 conception (were such conception possible) of a failure in 
 the practical results of mere intelligence. 
 
 I grant the difficulty that here presses itself upon our 
 notice, from the actual prevalence, in our own world, of 
 moral evil. I formerly adverted to the impossibility of 
 reading the lesson of divine holiness from the character 
 of man, as that character now meets our view ; and to the 
 unsatisfactory nature of all the solutions of this anomaly in 
 the administration of a holy and good Being, adopted by 
 either ancient or modern philosophy. — I know few things 
 of greater importance, on this mysterious subject, than to 
 bear in mind the distinction between a matter of fact and 
 an article of faith. In many minds, I am persuaded, 
 there is more than a tendency to regard the existence of 
 moral evil in the latter of these two lights, — as if it were an 
 article of faith, resting on the authority, and supported by 
 the evidence, of the revelation in which it is affirmed. 
 This, however, is a manifest illusion. The manner in 
 which sin found its entrance into our world, does, it is 
 true, rest exclusively on the authority of the sacred record. 
 But its existence is a fact in providence, independent 
 altogether of the truth or falsehood of the narrative in 
 Genesis ; independent altogether of any human theory, 
 or any divine discovery, of its origin. The Bible assumes 
 the fact of human sinfulness, and proceeds upon it ; but it is 
 not the Bible's affirming men sinners, or informing us how 
 they became sinners, that has made them so. It was a 
 fact before revelation existed, and would have continued a 
 fact had no revelation been given. The fact exists, and 
 cannot be reasoned away. The Bible is no more respons- 
 ible for the entrance of sin, than any History of England 
 
 I. N 
 
1 7 8 IDENTITY OF 
 
 is responsible for the gunpowder treason, or for any other 
 plot or deed of wickedness it may record. — So far from 
 being at all the occasion or originator of our perplexities, 
 the Bible contains their only mitigation, their only solu- 
 tion. How much soever we may be puzzled to demonstrate 
 the moral excellences of Deity from the character of 
 human nature in its present state, the discoveries of the 
 gospel set our minds, in this respect, at rest. These 
 discoveries contain the most satisfactory evidence, that his 
 not interposing to prevent the entrance of sin was not 
 occasioned by any light estimate of its evil, or by any 
 disposition to connive at its perpetration. The nature of 
 the means adopted for its expiation and removal, is in- 
 finitely more than sufficient to obliterate any surmise of 
 such connivance, which might be suggested by the fact of 
 its permission. In the adoption of these means, we see 
 him more distinctly and emphatically demonstrated to be 
 " the righteous Lord, who loveth righteousness, and whose 
 countenance doth behold the upright," than if evil had 
 never existed. The practical testimony of revealed facts, 
 as well as the verbal affirmation of the record, thus is, that 
 " God is light," and that " God is love." 
 
 In a former discourse I had occasion to show you, what 
 a perfect harmony there is between the existing facts of 
 God's providential administration towards our world, and 
 the representation given in the Scriptures of its condition 
 as a fallen world ; — how precisely the mingled state of 
 suffering and enjoyment, of curse and blessing, which 
 every where presents itself to the view of even the most 
 superficial observer, corresponds with what we might a 
 priori have anticipated, under the superintendence of a 
 Being who, though justly offended, still retained the 
 benignity of his nature ; the calamities and sufferings of 
 mankind being the judicial visitations of his just dis- 
 pleasure against sin, while the variety and profusion of 
 good enjoyed are the manifestations of lingering com- 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 179 
 
 passion for sinners, — the compassion of a Being, who " in 
 wrath remembered mercy." — While the eternal principles 
 of moral rectitude in Deity, the " light" and the " love " of 
 the divine nature, are thus made apparent in his provi- 
 dential administration, there is a further harmony, no less 
 beautiful and interesting, between this manifestation of 
 them and that still higher one which it is the special 
 purpose of revelation to make known. This harmony 
 forms a delightful field of meditative contemplation ; and, 
 while it delights, it profits : — it supplies conviction of 
 most important truths, and especially of the identity of 
 the God of providence and the God of redemption, — of 
 the God of nature and the God of revelation. — The har- 
 mony of design and operation in the universe, is one of 
 the arguments usually and satisfactorily urged in support 
 of the great doctrine of the divine Unity. In surveying 
 and investigating the works of nature in all parts of the 
 world, it is finely remarked by Dr. Paley,* " we never get 
 amongst such original or totally different modes of exist- 
 ence, as to indicate that we are come into the province of 
 a different Creator, or under the' direction of a different 
 will. The same order of things attends us wherever we 
 go." Now it has often occurred to me, that this mode of 
 reasoning might be carried out a little further, on a prin- 
 ciple similar to that on which Bishop Butler has con- 
 structed his admirable " Analogy." If the discovery, in 
 every department of nature, of the same great principles 
 of operation, satisfactorily proves the whole to have been 
 the contrivance and the work of one Mind ; — if, in travers- 
 ing the universe, we have everywhere the marks of identity 
 in the creating and superintending Intellect, so as " never 
 to feel that we are come into the province of a different 
 Creator, or under the direction of a different will ;" — let 
 us take another step, — let us pass from nature and provi- 
 
 * Nat. Theol. Chap. xxv. 
 
180 IDENTITY OF 
 
 dence to revelation, and try whether we do not still trace 
 marks of the same identity, — indications, no less striking 
 and satisfactory, that the discoveries of the gospel come 
 from the same Being who framed and governs the universe, 
 and especially who conducts the providential administra- 
 tion of our own world. — It is quite obvious, that there 
 must be a harmony between the lessons of nature and 
 providence and the lessons of revelation. If they come 
 from the same God, they cannot be at variance. If they 
 relate to the procedure of the same God, the plans and 
 acts ascribed to him in the latter cannot fail to be in 
 accordance with the principles of character which are 
 shown to belong to him by the former. The two volumes 
 of discovery must, in this respect, correspond with each 
 other. I am far from meaning that revelation is no more 
 than an authoritative republication to mankind of the 
 lessons of nature ; — a hypothesis, than which (as I had 
 occasion formerly to observe) it is not easy to imagine 
 any thing more unreasonable. But even in those parts of 
 the divine administration which are peculiar to revelation, 
 and which it is the special province and design of reve- 
 lation to unfold, there must be nothing contrary to the 
 intimations of the divine character conveyed in nature and 
 in providence. 
 
 It is in one point only that we can touch this interest- 
 ing subject. I have no argument with the man, who can 
 peruse the Bible without finding and acknowledging that 
 its grand peculiarity is the discovery of a scheme of 
 redemption and restoration for our fallen race. I enter 
 not into any discussion of the means which this scheme 
 unfolds for accomplishing the end ; — although I am sens- 
 ible the consideration of them would materially aid the 
 development of my present point. I simply ask, What 
 are the lights in which the formation and execution of the 
 purpose of saving man place the divine character ? The 
 salvation itself, avowed in the revealed purpose of God, is 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 181 
 
 a salvation from guilt and punishment to pardon and life, 
 and from the pollution and degradation of sin to the 
 beauty, dignity, and felicity of holiness. The points of 
 view in which it most conspicuously sets the character of 
 God are two, — his purity and his mercy. It affirms with 
 equal emphasis, by practical manifestation, "God is light" 
 and " God is love." Now, this double view of the divine 
 character is precisely what we are taught respecting it by 
 the true state of things in nature and in providence. 
 There, as we have before shown you, the Supreme Euler 
 appears, first, as hating sin ; his hatred of it being attested 
 in every form of suffering to which the world is subject : 
 and secondly, as benevolent and beneficent to his crea- 
 tures, even in the very midst of their trespasses, — "kind to 
 the unthankful and to the evil," pouring down the showers 
 of his blessing on the soil that yields him nothing in 
 return but briers and thorns. — When, therefore, having 
 found in all the departments of nature the indications of 
 the divine unity, we pass from these into the region of 
 redemption, do we feel (to use the language of Paley) as if 
 now we had come "into the province of a different Being, 
 and under the direction of a different will "? No : — no 
 more than in passing from one department of creation to 
 another. There is still one God. The God of redemp- 
 tion is the same as the God of creation and of providence. 
 The volume of salvation reads us the very same lessons 
 concerning him as those that are read to us by the volume 
 of nature, — only more clearly, and more impressively ; 
 lessons of his righteousness and of his mercy, of his light 
 and of his love. 
 
 It is a beautiful image, by which, from the harmony of 
 the universe, Cudworth demonstrates the necessaiy origina- 
 tion of the whole, in all its variety of parts, from one all- 
 comprehensive Mind : — "As he that hears a consort of 
 musicians playing a lesson, of six or eight several parts, 
 all conspiring to make up one harmony, will immediately 
 
!$•,> IDENTITY OF 
 
 conclude that there is some other cause of that harmony 
 besides those several particular efficients, that struck the 
 several instruments ; for every one of them would be but 
 a cause of his own part which he played; but the unity of 
 the whole harmony, into which all the several parts con- 
 spire, must needs proceed from the art and musical skill 
 of some one mind, the exemplary and archetypal cause of 
 that vocal harmony, which was but a passive print or 
 Btamp ol it : — so, though the Atheist might possibly per- 
 suade himself, that every particular creature was the first 
 author or efficient of that part which it played in the 
 universe, by a certain innate power of its own ; yet all the 
 parts of the mundane system conspiring into one perfect 
 harmony, there must of necessity be some one universal 
 mind, the archetypal and exemplary cause thereof, con- 
 taining the plot of the whole mundane music, as one 
 entire thing made up of so many several parts within 
 himself."* — Redemption is but adding a new part to this 
 anthem of universal nature. It introduces no jarring 
 note ; it only elevates, enriches, and sweetens the har- 
 mony. Or, if you will, it is itself a distinct symphony, 
 yet so attuned to the other, as, without silencing and 
 without disturbing it, to swell above it, in strains of hea- 
 venly sublimity and pathos, that "take the prisoned soul 
 and lap it " in the ecstasy of pure devotion to that " one 
 universal Mind" of whose excellences it is the worthy 
 celebration. — The " songs and choral symphonies " of 
 those "sons of light who circle God's throne rejoicing, "f 
 and whose anthem is, " Worthy is the Lamb that was 
 slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and 
 strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing ! " are so 
 far from being out of harmony with the anthem of nature, 
 that nature universally, continuing the notes of her own 
 anthem, adopts along with it the theme and the words of 
 
 * Etern. and Imraut. Moral, pp. 177—179. + Milton. 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 183 
 
 the angelic choirs; " every creature which is in heaven, 
 and on the earth, and under the earth, and in the sea, — 
 even all that are in them," being heard, in response to the 
 " ten thousand times ten thousand and thousands of 
 thousands," saying, "Blessing and honour, and glory and 
 power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto 
 the Lamb for ever and ever ! " 
 
 And while, in regard to the God whom they both reveal, 
 there is thus a perfect harmony between the voice of 
 redemption and the voice of nature; there is the same 
 harmony between redemption and the phenomena of po- 
 vidence. That which is seen with comparative obscurity 
 in God's general administration towards our world, — the 
 union, namely, in the Divine Ruler, of holy righteousness 
 with inexhaustible goodness, appears, in all its clearness 
 of manifestation and fulness of glory, in the purpose and 
 execution of the scheme of Redemption ; — and appears 
 with a radiance, of which it is difficult to say whether the 
 sweetness or the brilliance predominates, — whether it 
 most attracts by its loveliness or awes by its grandeur. 
 The one transaction of Calvary combines the lessons of 
 God taught by all the diversified operations of nature and 
 dispensations of providence. The cross speaks the double 
 language of justice and of grace, of offended holiness and 
 relenting mercy. Its testimony is thus identical with the 
 intimations of providence. It speaks the same language, 
 on the one hand, as the tempest, the volcano, the pesti- 
 lence, the famine, and all the varieties of human woe : and 
 the same, on the other, as the exhilarating, warming, 
 fructifying sun, the rains and the dews of heaven, and all 
 the luxuriance of the productive earth. — Thus redemption, 
 and creation, and providence, evince themselves to be only 
 varied manifestations of the same Infinite Mind. They 
 show a common origin from the one great " exemplary 
 and archetypal Cause." The word of God corresponds 
 with his works ; and redemption, by its very harmony 
 
184 IDENTITY OF 
 
 with all the other manifestations of the Godhead, becomes 
 an additional proof of the Divine unity ! 
 
 Further : — As there is a necessary harmony between 
 the divine character and the divine will, whatever contains 
 in it an intimation that " God is light " and that " God is 
 love," may be regarded as containing in it also a voice to 
 all his intelligent creatures — " Be ye holy, for I am holy ; " 
 — " be ye merciful, as your Father who is in heaven is 
 merciful." This is, in truth, at once the sum of human 
 virtue, and the sum of the motives to the practice of it ; 
 and this, were the ears of men but open to hear it, is the 
 concurrent voice of providence and of revelation. — By this 
 remark I am naturally led to the proper subject of the 
 present discourse, — the identity of morality and religion ; 
 a subject which the preceding observations have been 
 intended not only to introduce, but in part, prospectively, 
 to illustrate. 
 
 The words which I read as my text express, with clear- 
 ness and emphasis, this identity : — " This is the love of 
 God, that we keep his commandments." The " keeping 
 of God's commandments" is a comprehensive definition of 
 morality : — " the love of God " is the sum of religious 
 principle : — and the text affirms — " This is the love of 
 God, that we keep his commandments." The meaning is, 
 that there is no love of God without the keeping of his 
 commandments ; and that there is no keeping of his com- 
 mandments without the love of God : a statement which 
 amounts to the same thing as this other, — that there is no 
 religion without morality, and that there is no morality 
 without religion. lie who loves God keeps the command- 
 ments in principle ; he who keeps the commandments 
 loves God in action. Love is obedience in the heart; 
 obedience is love in the life. Morality, then, is religion 
 in practice ; religion is morality in principle. 
 
 I know few things more preposterous in theory, or 
 more mischievous in effect, than the prevailing divorce 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 185 
 
 between religion and morality ; the manner in which they 
 are not only spoken of in the current vocabulary of the 
 world, but even treated in the disquisitions of philosophy, 
 as if they were separable and separate things. — As to the 
 world ; you cannot but be aware, how indefinite is the 
 meaning of virtue, and with what variety of application, 
 but in them all with what convenient vagueness and 
 generality, the designation is bestowed of a good man. 
 On 'Change, the good man is the man who has sufficient 
 means, and sufficient honour, to pay his debts. In the 
 ordinary intercourse of life, its most common application 
 is to the relative and social virtues, and especially those 
 which impart confidence between man and man ; without 
 which, it is universally felt, the transactions of business 
 would be at a stand, the mutual dependence of men upon 
 each other could have no salutary operation, and the very 
 framework of society would be dissolved. These virtues, 
 the virtues of truth, and integrity and honour, especially 
 when united with generosity and practical kindness, will 
 secure the designation, even although there should be no 
 very rigid adherence to those of temperance and chastity ; 
 but if these, in any unusual degree, are united with the 
 former, the man becomes a paragon of goodness, the very 
 best of men, and sure of heaven, if any on earth are. The 
 union described is a rarity, except under the superadded 
 influence of religious principle : — but we shall suppose it. 
 We shall suppose a man personally chaste and sober in 
 his habits of life, amiable in its domestic relations, 
 honourable in all its transactions, truthful in every utter- 
 ance, and faithful in every trust ; and, withal, humane and 
 generous in his dispositions and practice: — What, it may 
 be asked, can be wished for more? "What lacketh he 
 yet?" I answer at once, and in one word — godliness; 
 — that which is entitled to the precedence of all these 
 virtues, — nay more, that which ought to preside over them 
 all, and to infuse its spirit into them all, and without 
 
188 IDENTITY OF 
 
 which they are destitute of the very first principle of true 
 morality. 
 
 But it is not in the customary phraseology of the world 
 only, and the loose conceptions of which that phraseology 
 is the vehicle, that religion and morality are severed. It 
 is lamentable to find, in the writings of ethical philoso- 
 phers, the same dissociating principle ; — discussions on 
 morals, such as would require no very material alteration 
 to accommodate them to atheism ; and even at times in 
 the treatises of philosophical divines, so indistinct a re- 
 cognition of the basis on which the whole system of ethics 
 ought ever to rest. It is far otherwise in the Holy 
 Scriptures : — and I cannot but regard the manner, in this 
 and other respects, in which these writings uniformly 
 treat the subject of morals, as forming one, and not the 
 least considerable, of the internal evidences of their divine 
 original. It is one of the distinguishing peculiarities ot 
 all Bible morality, that it begins with God, — that it makes 
 godliness its first and fundamental principle.* The first 
 commandment in the Moral Code of the Bible is a requi- 
 sition for God : — " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with 
 all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy strength, and 
 with all thy mind." Thus God stands first. For Him is 
 claimed the throne of the heart. The foundation of all 
 morals is laid in devotion. No right moral principle is 
 there admitted to exist, independent of a primary and 
 supreme regard to Deity. No true goodness is acknow- 
 ledged without this. There is no such anomaly to be 
 found there, as that which meets us so frequently in the 
 nomenclature of the world's morality, — a good heart, or a 
 good man, without the principles and sentiments of godli- 
 ness. According to its representations, the religious 
 principle is the first principle of all morals ; — a good heart 
 is a heart in which the fear and the love of God reign; 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note P. 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 187 
 
 and a good man, a man of whose life that fear and that 
 love are the uniform regulators. Every thing assuming 
 the name of virtue that has not these principles for its 
 foundation, is there set aside, as coin that has not the 
 image and superscription of Heaven, " reprobate silver," 
 — "weighed in the balances, and found wanting." 
 
 Now, let reason speak. "Why, even of yourselves," 
 said Jesus on one occasion to the Jews, making his 
 appeal to their own understandings for the truth of what 
 he said, "Why, even of yourselves, judge ye not that 
 which is right?" So say we now. Is not this as it ought 
 to be ? Does not the Bible, in the ground which it thus 
 takes, give God his proper place ? In making the religious 
 principle the essential element of all goodness, does it not 
 set the system of morality on its legitimate basis ? The 
 ground is high ; but is it not right ? Can you imagine an 
 accredited revelation to jiave taken any other ? Would not 
 the adoption of a lower position, in any book pretending 
 to be from God, have been, of itself, sufficient to discredit 
 and repudiate its pretensions ? I plead for God. We are 
 often told, that relative morality consists in giving every 
 one his due; I object not to the definition: but I must 
 insist upon it, that the application of the definition should 
 commence at the highest point in the scale of obligation. 
 Is there nothing due from creatures, but to their fellow- 
 creatures ? Has the everlasting God no dues ? Is not 
 reverence his due ? Is not love his due ? Is not worship 
 his due ? Is not obedience his due ? It must not be, 
 that we tamely submit to the exclusion of Deity; — to the 
 unnatural and unworthy omission or depreciation of the 
 rights and claims of the Eternal. We cannot acquiesce in 
 his being thus degraded to a secondary station ; divested, 
 in any point, of his authority, and thrust out, unceremo- 
 niously, from the motives of moral duty. His law, I 
 repeat, as he himself has promulgated it, places Hitn 
 first; and that, not merely because the obligation to God 
 
188 IDENTITY OF 
 
 is the first that binds the creature, but because, in this 
 obligation to God, all other obligations originate ; they 
 depend upon it; they are comprehended in it. What are 
 the duties which we owe to our fellow-creatures, but 
 integrant parts of his law ? It is as his precepts that they 
 must be fulfilled ; so that, if they are duly done, they must 
 be done from regard to his authority, which amounts to 
 the same thing with their being done from a religious 
 principle. It is on this account, that there can be no 
 morality without religion ; because every moral duty 
 resolves itself into a dictate of divine authority, and it is 
 only from regard to that authority that it can be duly 
 performed : — for, whatever be the principles that determine 
 the Divine will, that will, as I have formerly shown, is the 
 immediate ground of obligation to the creature. — The 
 precepts of the first and second tables of the law come 
 equally under the designation $f moral duties. The 
 obligation to the one and to the other is the very same. 
 The man who obeys his parents, who keeps his word, who 
 pays his debts, who dispenses his charities, who performs 
 any other acts, under the influence of principles that rise 
 no higher than to a recognition of the claims of his fellow- 
 creatures, has the first principles of moral obligation yet 
 to learn. 
 
 It is to be feared, that, in the department of morals as 
 well as in that of natural philosophy, there is an illusion 
 by which, through the atheistical tendencies of the heart, 
 (perhaps, in some instances, almost unconsciously,) not a 
 few minds are misled. The illusion to which I refer 
 arises from the substitution of the word Nature for God. 
 In the disquisitions of the natural philosopher, this de- 
 scription of prosopopoeia is so prevalent, that there seems 
 at times to be an entire forgetfulness of its being no more 
 than a figure of speech. Nature assumes in the mind 
 an imaginary personality, — like the mysterious " plastic 
 power" of some of the ancients; — putting forth voluntary 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 189 
 
 energies, in the production, arrangement, and superintend- 
 ence of the universe. Nature wills, Nature plans, Nature 
 acts, Nature gives laws and attends to their execution. 
 Nature, in this manner, by the very frequency of the recur- 
 rence of such phraseology, instead of being regarded as 
 merely an influence, or the product of that influence, slides 
 imperceptibly into the place which should be occupied by 
 the God of nature ; and his immediate and universal 
 agency — "ever present, ever felt" — is apt to be forgotten. 
 Now, thus it also happens in the science of ethics. Moral 
 theorists speak of the dictates of nature, till they too are 
 in danger of forgetting " Nature's God." Nature teaches 
 parents to love their children, and children to be dutiful 
 to their parents ; Nature inculcates truth and humanity ; 
 Nature reprobates malevolence and falsehood. I am not 
 now speaking of the soundness or heterodoxy of the theo- 
 logy, or of the conformity or disconformity of the state- 
 ment to fact ; but simply of the tendency of the lauguage : 
 and the tendency is much the same in this department as 
 in the former. The laws of Nature are spoken of, till it 
 slips out of mind that they are the laws of God ; and the 
 real impulse, or the supposed dictate, of Nature, assumes 
 the place of the divine will. So far, indeed, has this been 
 carried, that by one philosopher, whose theory was for- 
 merly under our review, — (the theory according to which 
 virtue and vice are distinguished by the opposite emotions 
 to which, by a kind of moral instinct, they respectively 
 give rise, antecedently and in order to the decision of the 
 judgment) — obedience to the natural impulse is regarded 
 and eulogised as virtue, even in cases where not only is all 
 consideration of the will of God absent from the mind, but 
 God himself is unknown, and demons of hellish malignity 
 are dreaded and worshipped in his room ! " Of all the 
 mothers," says Dr. Brown, " who at this moment, on the 
 earth, are exercised, and virtuously exercised, in maternal 
 duties, around the cradles of their infants, there is, per- 
 
190 IDENTITY OF 
 
 haps, not one who is thinking that God has commanded 
 her to love her offspring, and to perform for them the 
 many offices of love which are necessary for preserving the 
 lives that are so dear to her. The expression of the divine 
 will, indeed, not only gives us new and nobler duties to 
 perform, it gives a new and nobler delight also to the 
 very duties which our nature prompts, and the violation 
 of which is felt as moral wrong, even when God is known 
 and worshipped only as a demon of power still less bene- 
 volent than the very barbarians who howl around his altar 
 in their savage sacrifice."* It is admitted by this philo- 
 sopher, that there is " no question whether it be virtue to 
 conform our will to that of the Deity when that will is re- 
 vealed to us, or clearly implied." But while he grants this, 
 he denies that, in order to constitute this conformity virtue, 
 there is any necessity for its being, on the part of the agent, 
 intentional. As our nature (our nature as we now inherit 
 it) is, according to him, from God, there may be virtue in 
 acting according to its impulses, although the will and 
 authority of God is never thought of, and, consequently, 
 enters not at all into the motive of the action. But this is 
 a species of virtue, which the Scriptures nowhere recog- 
 nize. They place virtue in the principle ; and the prin- 
 ciple in which it is made to consist is, distinctly and 
 exclusively, subjection to the divine will. There is nothing 
 to be found in them of such sentimental morality, as that 
 which lies in obeying the impulses of a nature which, at 
 the very same time, is manifesting its ungodly character, 
 by preferring to the God of purity and love a demon of 
 ferocity and vileness. There is no such separation in them 
 of nature and the God of nature ; nor any recognition 
 
 * I say nothing of the particular case here selected, — that of maternal 
 fondness; although it belongs to rather an equivocal class of virtues, — being 
 one of those instincts of our nature, which are common to us with the brutes, 
 and which, while it is atrociously immoral to resist and violate, it implies no 
 great measure of moral principle to possess. 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 191 
 
 of aught as genuine virtue, in the motive to which the 
 Divine Being has no place. Abstract virtue is in the Bible, 
 holiness; which means conformity to the will, or to the 
 character, of God : — actual or practical virtue is this con- 
 formity in the intention and conduct of the agent ; and 
 the whole of this intentional conformity is there repre- 
 sented as springing from the principle of supreme love to 
 the Infinite Source of all excellence. This spiritual 
 principle, this divine affection, must enter into the obe- 
 dience of every precept ; it must not only be in the 
 heart, along with its other affections, and in distinct 
 subsistence and operation from them ; but it must 
 incorporate itself with all the rest, and impart its 
 sacred and sanctifying impulse to the exercise of every one 
 of them. We dare not, if we follow the Bible, admit the 
 validity of any mans claim to moral character, who regards 
 not that Being who is the very source and origin of all 
 moral obligation, and the primary object of every moral 
 sentiment ; but must disown the very association of moral- 
 ity with such a character, as a solecism in language. 
 " Irreligion and moral principle cannot exist together in 
 the same bosom ; for irreligion is the rejection of that 
 authority in which all moral obligation has its origin : — 
 and to live without God is necessarily to live without 
 virtue."* 
 
 The state of the heart toward God entered but little 
 into the systems of Heathen Ethics. How could it? The 
 true God was unknown ; and towards the ; 'gods many and 
 lords many " of their Pantheon, any such affection as 
 love was out of the question. These deities were either 
 themselves the creations of ignorant or guilty fear, a fear 
 utterly alien from every sentiment of complacency; or 
 their characters were such, that to love them must have 
 been to love evil rather than good. Love to such beings 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note Q. 
 
192 IDENTITY OF 
 
 would have been the principle, not of virtue, but of vice. 
 All the rites in the ceremonial of Heathen worship, were 
 of old, and are still, either the expressions of superstitious 
 dread, or the direct indulgence, or indirect excitement, of 
 some one or other of the varieties of sensual appetite and 
 earthly passion. Amongst the entire assemblage of the 
 gods of ancient or modern polytheism, where is there one 
 to be found, whose attributes can give origin or exercise 
 to any such principle as holy Jove? This is an affection 
 of the soul, of which the only appropriate object is that 
 infinitely amiable Being whom revelation discloses; and 
 who is also, indeed, conspicuously visible in the works of 
 his hands and the ways of his providence, — though men, 
 " not liking to retain him in their knowledge," have shut 
 their eyes to the manifestations of his loveliness. 
 
 The first lesson, then, in the elements of moral science, 
 as taught by the Bible, is, that the primary relation of all 
 intelligent creatures being that which they sustain to their 
 Creator, the Creator must be the object of their first love ; 
 — and that, the first relation being also the highest, this 
 love must be supreme. And, in conformity with this view 
 of the first principle of moral rectitude in the subjects of 
 the divine government, are all the representations con- 
 tained in the same book of the essential elements of 
 depravity and wickedness. When the question is asked, 
 Who are the wicked ? — the answer, in the philosophy of 
 the world, will be given more or less comprehensively, 
 according to the different standards of character set up in 
 their minds by those who, following the universal propen- 
 sity of mankind, " measure themselves by themselves, 
 and compare themselves amongst themselves." But in 
 the Scriptures, whilst all the violations of personal purity, 
 and all the infractions of relative obligation between man 
 and man, are denounced as wickedness, there is a higher 
 principle assumed ; and all wickedness is summed up in 
 the one fundamental evil of alienation from God. The 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. l ( ,)f{ 
 
 "righteous and the wicked" are identical designations 
 with " those who serve God, and those who serve him 
 not." The " wicked," who shall be " turned into hell." 
 are "all the people that forget God." This, in the 
 estimate of heaven, is the grand elementary distinction of 
 human characters. The controversy of the Supreme 
 Governor with man turns essentially on this one point. 
 The righteous are " those that fear God ; " the wicked 
 those who have " no fear of God before their eyes." This 
 is the line of demarcation between the two great classes of 
 men into which, in his word, the whole race is divided. 
 On many occasions, it is true, the distinction may be more 
 or less strongly marked by the different modes of conduct, 
 or courses of life, in which the influence or the absence of 
 the fear of God discovers itself : — but still, all the practical 
 differences are resolvable into the possession or the want 
 of this one principle. According to the intimations of his 
 mind, given us in the volume of revelation, the Ruler and 
 Judge of all never appears as approving or accepting any 
 character, in which this principle does not maintain the 
 ascendant; or as setting the seal of his sanction to any 
 system of moral virtue, of which godliness is not the 
 essential element and impelling spring. And surely, in 
 every considerate mind, in every mind that is not utterly 
 blinded by corruption, there must be a secret conviction 
 that this is right. Why should not the violation of the 
 greatest of all obligations be held as the greatest of all 
 wickedness ? When we find (as we sometimes do) among 
 men who make no pretensions to piety, much of the 
 amiable and commendable in the exercise of the social 
 affections, we are apt to shrink from using, or to use with 
 a dubious hesitancy, the divine designation of the human 
 heart/ as "desperately wicked." But why this shrinking? 
 Why this hesitancy ? Do we not at once, and indignantly, 
 pronounce the verdict of wickedness on the man who fails 
 of what is due, and who tramples on legitimate claims, in 
 i. o 
 
104 IDENTITY OF 
 
 the different relations of life ? Do we not apply the epithet 
 without scruple, to the cruel and faithless hushand, to the 
 harsh and unnatural parent, to the ungrateful and rebellious 
 child, to the unrighteous and oppressive master, to the faith- 
 less servant, to the treacherous friend, to the traitorous sub- 
 ject, to the ruthless tyrant, to the iron-hearted miser, — to 
 every one who flagrantly infringes on the rights of others, 
 and withholds what is due, either in justice or in generosity? 
 If, then, we imprint the brand of wickedness on the in- 
 fraction of the inferior obligations, shall we pause and 
 hesitate in affixing it to the breach of the superior? Ought 
 not the violation of the highest of all claims to be branded 
 with the deepest stigma of reprobation ? Why is he to be 
 counted wicked, who fails to give his fellow-men their due, 
 while the designation is tenderly and courteously with- 
 held from him who in principle denies, or in practice 
 withholds, what is due to his Maker ? He demands the 
 heart of every intelligent creature ; and it is wickedness 
 to withhold it. He demands the conscience, the obedi- 
 ence, the active service, of every intelligent creature ; and 
 it is wickedness to withhold them. His demand takes 
 precedence of every other ; and it is wickedness to place 
 others before it. If he is wicked who wrongs men, he 
 is superlatively wicked who wrongs God. And not 
 only is ungodliness in itself wicked ; it is the essen- 
 tial element of wickedness in all that is denominated 
 wicked by ungodly men themselves ; nor can any virtue 
 whatever be duly practised by the man who is insensible 
 to the sacredness of the very first principle of moral obli- 
 gation. Delineate, like the Stoics, your imaginary 
 portraiture of a perfect man : — insert, in their full promi- 
 nence, all the personal and all the social virtues : — if you 
 have left out godliness, you have omitted that which is 
 essential to the rectitude of each one in the series. Or, 
 fill up, with all the vices that admit of combination, the 
 character of the reprobate ; if you have forgotten ungodli- 
 ness, you have left out the very worst of all its ingredients 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 195 
 
 of evil. Throughout the entire catalogue, there has run a 
 breach of obligation superior to any of the rest, and one 
 that has constituted the chief part of the heinousness of 
 them all. Every heart is a wicked heart, every life a 
 wicked life, that is without the fear of God. I ask again, 
 Is not this right? Is it not what on all reasonable 
 grounds was to be expected, that, in a divinely dictated 
 system of morals, the first claim on the creature should be 
 on behalf of the Creator? — the first requisition, that the 
 heart should be " right with him " ? Is there not a pro- 
 priety, a seemliness, a fitness in this, such as commands 
 the immediate assent of every understanding, and ought 
 to command the equally immediate concurrence and com- 
 placency of every heart ? And is there not, at the same 
 time, an appropriate sublimity and grandeur in this 
 scriptural representation ? — in directing the eyes and the 
 hearts of all intelligent creatures, first and ever, to that 
 ineffable Being, who is the source of all existence, of all 
 excellence, and of all happiness ? — in making love to him 
 the grand principle of union in the moral universe ; his 
 authority the rule, his glory the end, his goodness the 
 motive, his favour the bliss, and his character the example, 
 of the whole rational creation ? 
 
 According to the Scriptures, then, there is no morality 
 without religion ; for, of the two great principles in which 
 the law of God is summed up, the first is the religious 
 principle. And it stands first, not as insulated from the 
 other, and capable of being neglected while the other is 
 duly obeyed ; but as demanding the first attention, and in- 
 dispensable to that moral state of the heart which is 
 necessary to any acceptable obedience whatever. — " The 
 second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as 
 thyself." It is like unto it, because the principle it in- 
 culcates is still love. But love to the Creator takes 
 precedence of love to the creature ; nor can love to the 
 creature be duly exercised apart from love to the Creator. 
 The former presupposes the latter. Benevolence to man 
 
190 IDENTITY OF 
 
 must be founded in devotion to God : — as fraternal affec- 
 tion presupposes filial ; and as the love of brothers to each 
 other springs from their love, as children, to a common 
 parent. These two principles may be considered as em- 
 bracing all religion and all morality : — but the religion is 
 morality, and the morality is religion. Love to God in- 
 cludes love to man ; because love to man is one of the 
 commandments of God, and " this is the love of God, 
 that we keep his commandments : " — and love to man pre- 
 supposes love to God ; because it is as one of the com- 
 mandments of God that love to man must be cultivated 
 and exemplified, and because it is only from the principle 
 of love to God that any one of his commandments can be 
 duly and acceptably obeyed. Let us briefly consider each 
 of these two comprehensive affections, and their mutual 
 relation to each other. 
 
 Love to God, though one affection, includes in it, 
 especially, the three following things — complacency in the 
 
 DIVINE CHARACTER, GRATITUDE FOR THE DIVINE GOODNESS, 
 and DELIGHT IN THE DIVINE HAPPINESS. 
 
 1. Complacency in the Divine character. — The character 
 of God is the perfect concentration of all holy excellences ; 
 and complacency in this character can only be experienced 
 by a mind that is in unison with the divine. God is ne- 
 cessarily the highest object of complacent delight to him- 
 self, — his own infinite excellence to his own infinite mind. 
 He is himself at once the subject and the object of this 
 complacency ; in himself it exists, and on himself it 
 terminates. Nothing short of infinite excellence can give 
 scope for infinite delight ; so that the infinite mind of 
 Deity could not have a full expansion, or a perfect gratifi- 
 cation, of its capacities of enjoyment, except as exercised 
 upon himself. Every holy creature, — every creature 
 formed in the image of God, participates with him, by a 
 sympathy of its whole moral nature, in this delight. And 
 what is the regeneration of a sinner, but the restoration 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 107 
 
 to his soul of this complacency in God, this sympathy with 
 the divine delight in the divine excellence ? Love to God 
 is love to him for what he is, and for all that he is. It 
 must regard him in his entire character. A man may 
 have a diseased eye, that feels easy only when it rests on 
 one or other of the primary colours of rainbow light ; 
 that is partial to the red, the orange, the yellow, the green, 
 the blue, the indigo, or the violet, but cannot bear the 
 streaming radiance of the white light that is composed of 
 all the seven : — so may a creature have a diseased and 
 vitiated mind, partial to some particular attribute or mode 
 of the divine character, taken out of connexion with the 
 rest, and therefore erroneously and falsely viewed ; and 
 incapable of enduring the full effulgence of divine perfec- 
 tion, in the harmony of its inseparable attributes. But to 
 a creature retaining its original character, there is not 
 only no difficulty in the exercise of this complacency, — it 
 is its veiy nature ; it is the element in which it " lives, and 
 moves, and has its being." 
 
 2. Gratitude for the Divine goodness. — Every existing 
 creature owes to its Creator all that it is, and has, and 
 hopes for; and from every creature that is capable of 
 knowing God, gratitude is due to him for its being and its 
 well-being. The complacency of which we have been 
 speaking is love to God for what he is, and for the 
 benevolence of his nature as manifested to creation in 
 general : gratitude is love to him for his kindness to us ; 
 to us personally; to us relatively; — as members of 
 families, of circles of kindred, of communities, of the 
 race of mankind, — nay, we might stretch the associating 
 feeling of relation still further, and say, of the whole 
 rational and sensitive creation, considering ourselves as 
 part of the great system of being, sustaining a connexion, 
 and conscious of a sympathy, with all that thinks, and 
 feels, and breathes. 
 
 In proportion as we are under the influence of benevo- 
 
198 IDENTITY OF 
 
 lence to others, we shall love God as the beneficent 
 Author of all the good that creatures throughout the 
 universe enjoy : — but still, from the very constitution of 
 our nature, our grateful love must ever be most fervent for 
 the blessings of which we ourselves are the recipients. 
 The sacred word is full of the devout utterance, both of 
 the general feelings of gratitude and praise to the blessed 
 Author of all good, and of the special aspirations of thank- 
 fulness for appropriate personal favours. 
 
 3. Delight in the Divine happiness. — They, I think, are 
 perfectly correct, who hold that Deity may be one, and 
 ought to be the first, of the objects of benevolence or good- 
 will, in the bosoms of his intelligent offspring. Some 
 would exclude benevolence from the feelings of creatures 
 towards God, on the ground that he cannot need it. But 
 this, however seemingly specious, is far from being con- 
 clusive. The sentiment of good-will does not at all arise 
 from any perception or supposition of the need of its 
 exercise existing in its object. The more fully a fellow- 
 creature possesses, within himself, powers, and capacities, 
 and means of enjoyment, the more independent does he 
 become for that enjoyment upon others. Yet, if he be a 
 creature sustaining a character that entitles him to esteem 
 and affection, this fulness of resources, this approach to 
 independence, does not in the least interfere with our 
 feelings of benevolent satisfaction in his happiness. On 
 the contrary, the more complete that happiness is, the 
 better pleased are we with the knowledge that it does not 
 depend upon others, or even upon ourselves. — The 
 sentiment of which I speak is sympathy with the joy of 
 other beings — "rejoicing with them that rejoice." By 
 every right- hearted creature, this sympathy must be ex- 
 perienced, in all its purity and in all its intensity, with the 
 blessedness of Deity. This will be the case, as far as a 
 conception can be formed of the nature and sources of 
 that blessedness ; and, — even where that conception fails, 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 199 
 
 the general assurance that the blessedness is infinite, will, 
 to such a creature, be exquisitely delightful. He feels that 
 he cannot but return the love that hath given him being; 
 — he cannot but rejoice in his Maker's joy, — in the abso- 
 lute, unmingled, independent, and immutable blessedness 
 of the Father of all, — whether flowing from his own ex- 
 haustless self-sufficiency, or from the accomplishment of 
 the purposes of his goodness and righteousness. How 
 pure, how sublime, how ennobling, my brethren, this 
 sentiment of sympathy with the divine happiness ! — a 
 sentiment by which we enter into the heart of Deity, and 
 hold a communion of holy delight with the eternal 
 Fountain of life and joy. Higher in honour, higher in 
 enjoyment, no created nature can possibly be raised. 
 
 It is impossible, I have already observed, that love to 
 God, such as has been thus described, can exist and 
 operate in any mind, but in proportion as that mind is in 
 a state of moral unison with the mind of the Godhead ; 
 and, wherever this is the case, the "keeping of God's com- 
 mandments " will (as our text intimates) be its unfailing 
 indication. Holy love being the essential element of the 
 Divine character in relation to his creatures, — love, that 
 is, unassociated in the remotest degree with any com- 
 placency in evil ; similar love to fellow-creatures will 
 necessarily characterise every mind that is conformed to 
 that of Deity. Having fixed the first and all-compre- 
 hensive principle of morals in love to himself, He 
 accordingly places in immediate subordination to it, love 
 to men; a love which, although subject to the peculiar 
 modifications of consanguinity, and friendship, and 
 patriotism, comprehends the species, and indeed, in the 
 spirit of the precept, may be considered as extending to 
 created beings in general, in known or even in supposed 
 existence. The standard of the love enjoined to our 
 fellow-creatures is expressed in the terms of the precept — 
 " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." The only love 
 
200 IDENTITY OF 
 
 thai is without measure, and without comparison with any- 
 other as its standard, is the love of which the infinite 
 Jehovah is himself the object. That is love " with all the 
 heart, with all the soul, with all the strength, and with all 
 the mind," because here all our capacities of intellect and 
 of feeling may be expanded to their full stretch of en- 
 largement, without the possibility of excess. All other 
 love is measured and limited. 
 
 Selfishness is the besetting sin of our fallen nature. It 
 interferes with and adulterates the love of our neighbour ; 
 it excludes from our bosoms the love of God. But self- 
 love, so far from being an illegitimate principle, is an 
 essential part of the constitution of every sentient exist- 
 ence, and in the second great commandment is assumed 
 as such, and constituted, as has just been said, the standard 
 of our love to others. The reasoning of the Apostle Paul 
 is beautifully correct, when he says, " He that loveth 
 another hath fulfilled the law. For this, Thou shalt not 
 commit adultery, Thou shalt not kill, Thou shalt not 
 steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness, Thou shalt not 
 covet ; and if there be any other commandment, it is 
 briefly comprehended in this saying, namely, Thou shalt 
 love thy neighbour as thyself. Love worketh no ill to his 
 neighbour: therefore love is the fulfilling of the law."* 
 In its heart-searching spirituality, its precision and 
 simplicity, its readiness for application, its force of com- 
 bined appeal to the understanding and to the heart, its 
 comprehensiveness, both as to the objects it embraces, and 
 the dispositions and conduct it inculcates towards them, — 
 this precept is divinely worthy of the place it holds.f 
 Taking love to God and love to our neighbour together, 
 well might our divine Master say of them, " On these two 
 commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets." — But 
 let not our main point be at present forgotten. To consti- 
 
 * Rom. xiii. 8 — 10. f Notes and Illustrations. Note R. 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 201 
 
 tute true morality, the two must be united. The second 
 is not morality without the first. For the accommodation 
 of their own consciences, men may choose to separate 
 them under different designations, and to call the one 
 religion and the other morality. But, on the principles 
 that pervade the word of God, we dare not admit the 
 possibility of their separation. You may many a time 
 find men who commend the second precept, while they 
 disregard the first ; men who will even warmly eulogize 
 the beautiful morality of the Scriptures, when they sum 
 up our duty in " loving our neighbour as ourselves," and 
 " doing to others as we would that others should do to us." 
 Yet what would such men say to us, were we to affirm that 
 the first of the two precepts might be satisfactorily ful- 
 filled without the second ? — that a man might duly love 
 God without loving his neighbour, and do his duty to God 
 without doing his duty to his neighbour ? Would they 
 not, and with good reason, scoff at such religion, and tell 
 us at once, with oracular decision, and with the scowl of 
 disdain, that there can be no religion without morality ? 
 We grant it : there is, there can be, no religion without 
 morality. But we must insist upon it, that, if the first 
 precept cannot be fulfilled separately from the second, 
 neither can the second separately from the first ; that if we 
 cannot love God without loving our neighbour, neither can 
 we duly love our neighbour without loving God; that if 
 without love to our neighbour, love to God wants its 
 proper evidence — without love to God, love to our neigh- 
 bour wants its proper principle ; that no position can be 
 more unreasonable, than the position, that there may be 
 morality without religion, while there can be no religion 
 without morality; this being the same thing as to say, 
 that the lower obligation may be fulfilled without the 
 higher, though the higher cannot without the lower ; that 
 the love commanded towards fellow-creatures may be duly 
 and sufficiently exercised, without any love to Him by 
 
202 IDENTITY OF MORALITY AND RELIGION. 
 
 whom the command is given, and in whose character and 
 authority the obligation to render it originates ! Away 
 with such inconsistencies ! Let Christians assume, and 
 occupy, and resolutely maintain, the high ground of the 
 Bible ; that love to God not only takes precedence of 
 every other affection of the soul, but is the true moral 
 principle of all the rest, and of whatever in practice 
 is entitled to the name of virtue. This love to God, 
 involving, as it does, complacency in his holy nature, is 
 itself holiness : and this is the virtue of the Bible ; the 
 only virtue that can be recognized and accepted by the 
 God of light and love whom the Bible reveals ; the 
 product of his regenerating Spirit ; the necessary qualifica- 
 tion for fellowship with him on earth ; the only fitness for 
 heaven ! 
 
LECTURE VIII. 
 
 ON THE QUESTION, HOW FAR DISINTERESTEDNESS IS AN 
 ESSENTIAL QUALITY IN LEGITIMATE LOVE TO GOD. 
 
 " We love Him, because he first loved us." — 1 John iv. 19. 
 
 There are four short sentences of Holy Writ, which 
 contain in them more of the knowledge of God than all 
 the unaided wisdom of man had ever been able to dis 
 cover: "God is a Spirit:" — "God is one:" — "God is 
 light: " — " God is love." — Spirituality of essence, unity of 
 subsistence, purity of nature, and benevolence of character, 
 are thus, with a sublime brevity, predicated of Jehovah. 
 Light and love complete the character of his moral nature. 
 They are inseparable. All the operations of his benevo- 
 lence are in harmony with his unsullied purity ; and all 
 the manifestations of his purity are blended with his in- 
 finite benevolence. The love dwells in light; and the 
 light diffuses itself in beams of love. Holy love, then, is 
 the essential character of the Godhead. And, in accord- 
 ance with this delightful view of the Maker and Lord of 
 all, holy love appears to be the general law of the universe, — 
 the bond of union, the spring of action, the fountain of joy. 
 
 We have formerly traced the great principles of moral 
 rectitude to their eternal origin in the nature of Deity, — a 
 nature, from eternity, necessary and immutable. From 
 this we have inferred their universality. As all orders of 
 intelligent creatures owe their being to Him, and are the 
 subjects of his moral government, it is, in the nature of 
 the thing, inconceivable, that in the principles of his legis- 
 
204 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 lation, amongst these different orders, there should be any 
 inconsistency or contrariety. In their essential elements, 
 they must be the same. But the same general principles 
 may often, without incongruity, admit of no inconsiderable 
 variety of modification. Thus it is in the natural world. 
 There is one principle of vitality in all that lives ; yet, 
 among all living things, there probably are not two in 
 every respect the same. There is one principle of vege- 
 tation in all the endless variety of colour, form, and fra- 
 grance, of elegance, and beauty, and utility, with which 
 the surface of our world is clothed. For aught we can 
 tell, the same principles of animal and vegetable life, which 
 develop themselves in our own planet, may pervade the 
 universe ; and yet, in no two worlds may their modified 
 developments be entirely alike. 
 
 Thus, too, as far as our knowledge reaches, it is — and 
 thus, to an indefinite extent beyond the range of our know- 
 ledge, it may be — in the moral world. My exemplifications 
 of what is must of course be found amongst ourselves ; 
 they must be taken from our own race. It would, at the 
 same time, be flagrantly inconsistent with all that has 
 formerly been said, were I to take them from the race at 
 large, as inheriting a nature of which the moral principles 
 are disordered. I find them more appropriately, and ex- 
 tensively enough for my present purpose, in those renewed 
 souls, into which, by the gracious operation of the Divine 
 Spirit, the true elements of moral rectitude have been 
 introduced ; — in which holy love has become the supreme 
 and dominant principle. Amongst the members of this 
 redeemed and sanctified family, there are almost endlessly 
 diversified modifications of character : — but these modifica- 
 tions are the result, not of different principles, but of prin- 
 ciples the same in their primary elements, only practically 
 unfolded under various circumstances and relations. If, 
 in all the children of God, the principles of their new 
 nature were the same in degree as well as in kind, and 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 205 
 
 subjected universally to the influence of the very same 
 modifying circumstances, — the result would be a sameness 
 very dissimilar to what meets our view in every other 
 department of the works and ways of God. But by placing 
 his children in all the varieties of circumstantial and rela- 
 tive condition, their Heavenly Father produces a scene in 
 harmony with the rest of his administration ; diversity of 
 effect springing from simplicity of principle, — elementary 
 identity, with varied manifestation. Thus we may con- 
 clude it to be, throughout the entire extent of the dominions 
 of Deity : — the essential elementary principles of morals 
 everywhere the same, — as necessarily the same, as the 
 Nature is the same from which all intelligent and account- 
 able existence is an emanation, — but in all worlds, and 
 amongst the inhabitants of each, diversified without end 
 in their modal application and exercise. 
 
 Whether among the countless worlds enlightened by 
 those millions of suns which the telescope has brought 
 within the reach of human vision, there be any in a con- 
 dition similar to that of our own, is a question to which 
 no research can ever enable us to find an answer; He 
 from whom alone the discovery could come having been 
 pleased to keep silence respecting it. In the revelation, 
 indeed, which he has graciously imparted to us, he has 
 informed us of another order, or rather of a portion of 
 another order, of intelligent creatures, who, like ourselves, 
 sustain the character of apostates ; spirits of light, who, 
 even before the creation of man, had wickedly thrown off 
 their allegiance, and incurred the righteous doom of ex- 
 pulsion from their seats of bliss. The same revelation, 
 while it discloses to us the divine scheme of restoration 
 for fallen men, conveys the information that no such 
 scheme has been formed or executed in behalf of fallen 
 angels. The reasons of this pretention are by us inscrut- 
 able. That here, as in every step of his government, the 
 procedure of Deity has been determined by considerations 
 
0Q6 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 infinitely satisfactory, we cannot entertain a doubt ; his 
 sovereignty consisting, as ought ever to be remembered, 
 not in acting without reasons, but only in withholding, at 
 his pleasure, those reasons from us. It is ours to be thank- 
 ful, (and the gratitude can never bear any adequate pro- 
 portion to the amount of the obligation,) that our world 
 has been the theatre selected by him, for that display of 
 his character, — so full of all that is stupendous and delight- 
 f a l ? — which the plan of redemption unfolds. 
 
 The procedure of God towards this our world has, in- 
 deed, been of a nature so astonishing, that, in contem- 
 plating it, we are apt to be stunned into incredulity ; and, 
 forgetting the infinitude of the benevolence 'of which it is 
 the expression, to say in our hearts — How can these things 
 be ? — And yet, their overwhelming magnitude may not, by 
 any means, be a sufficient warrant for a conclusion to 
 which we are prone to come, and which, indeed, in most 
 Christian minds, has assumed the form of a settled senti- 
 ment, — the conclusion, namely, that they are quite unique, 
 — that they so pre-eminently transcend all the Divine 
 transactions in other parts of the universe, as to stand 
 altogether alone, — having no parallels, — nothing that can 
 admit of being compared with them. Now it is true, that 
 we cannot imagine them surpassed : — but are we sure that 
 we are doing justice to Deity in this conception of their 
 solitary grandeur, — of their incomparable superiority to 
 the average scale of his moral administration ? Is the 
 principle of such a conception fair ? Is it in harmony 
 with our inferential conclusions in other departments of 
 the Divine doings ? Amazed as we are by the displays of 
 power and wisdom in the productions of nature, animate 
 and inanimate, within the bounds of our own world, does 
 it ever enter into our minds to regard them as so far sur- 
 passing those which, had we access to other worlds, we 
 should discover there, that by the enlargement of our 
 range of observation, our conceptions of these Divine attri- 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 207 
 
 butes might possibly be depressed rather than elevated, con- 
 tracted rather than amplified ? Do not we, on the contrary, 
 assure ourselves, that, were that range extended, we should 
 find, in every department of its widening amplitude, all in 
 harmony with what meets our view within our limited field 
 of vision ; — the manifestations of power and wisdom, if not 
 surpassing those which are now submitted to our investi- 
 gation, not at least sinking beneath them ? Should we, 
 then, reason otherwise with regard to the moral adminis- 
 tration of Deity ? Of his procedure, in this department, 
 towards other worlds than our own, we know nothing, and 
 have no means of arriving at information. But can any 
 satisfactory reason be assigned, why we should not apply 
 the same principle of inferential judgment; and, in this 
 case as in the other, make what we do know the standard 
 of what we do not know ? Why should we not consider the 
 conduct of the Godhead towards our world as a specimen 
 of the general style of grandeur in which the divine 
 government is administered throughout the whole extent 
 of his universal empire ? There may be nothing the same 
 in kind. With the one exception of the " Angels that kept 
 not their first estate, but left their own habitation," there 
 may be no class of intelligent creatures that have re- 
 nounced their allegiance besides ourselves, — no world that 
 has strayed from its moral orbit but the planet in which 
 we dwell. But, although there may be nothing the same 
 in kind, it does not follow that there can be nothing like it 
 in characteristic greatness. In an extensive human em- 
 pire, subdivided into various provinces, the transactions in 
 no two of these provinces may be in every respect the 
 same. They may, — and under a wise administration they 
 undoubtedly will, — be of a nature appropriate to the re- 
 spective circumstances of each. But they will all bear the 
 impress, and indicate the character, of the presiding Mind ; 
 and, corresponding with the mental capacity and the moral 
 disposition of the ruler, they will harmonize, in their 
 
803 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 general complexion, with each other. So it may be in the 
 empire of the Supreme Governor, — the universe of worlds. 
 Make the supposition, if you will, that there is no other 
 world standing in the same circumstances with our own, 
 and requiring the same or similar measures for its deliver- 
 ance ; — yet there appears to be no presumption in conceiv- 
 ing, that, throughout his boundless dominions, the infinite 
 God may be carrying on his administration on a scale of 
 moral magnificence, of which the dealings of his righteous- 
 ness and mercy towards our race, in the mediation of his Son, 
 are no more than a fair exemplification. How stupendous 
 the conception given to our minds by such a criterion (is it 
 an inadmissible one ?) of the government of the Eternal ! 
 The revelation with which we have been favoured relates, 
 as might have been anticipated, specially, and almost ex- 
 clusively, to the peculiar circumstances of our own world. 
 To inform us about other worlds, is no part of its design. 
 Even as things are, there exists quite a sufficiency of 
 temptation to the neglect of our everlasting interests ; — 
 quite enough to divert our attention from those momentous 
 concerns by which it ought most of all to be engaged. In 
 the objects by which we are surrounded on earth, and 
 which in so many ways entice our regards, there is an 
 infatuating witchery, that works, with lamentable success, 
 in abstracting our thoughts from what is higher, and 
 better, and more enduring; the "things that are seen" 
 filling the mind, to the exclusion of the " things that are 
 not seen :" — and even the little, with regard to other 
 worlds, that, by observation and research, has come to be 
 either known, or conjectured, or fancied within the limit 
 of possible discovery, has had, in this respect, its share of 
 detrimental influence ; so that there have not been want- 
 ing, those who have fully verified the poet's description of 
 them, as — 
 
 " giving laws to distant worlds, 
 
 And trifling in their own." 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 209 
 
 To what an amount might such "trifling" have been 
 augmented, had revelation opened more widely the field 
 of curious speculation, by informing us of the physical 
 constitution, the natural history, the science, and the 
 moral character and state, of the worlds by which we are 
 surrounded ! The tendencies of our fallen nature to the 
 neglect of our everlasting prospects, are so sadly strong, that 
 they require any thing but encouragement and additional 
 temptations ; and, accordingly, in the revelation given us, 
 our attention is wisely confined to the one great end which 
 it proposes, — not the gratifying of a vain, or even of an 
 allowable and laudable curiosity with regard to other 
 worlds, but the recovery to God, and holiness, and happi- 
 ness, of the apostate inhabitants of our own. 
 
 This being the case, I know few things more important, 
 or indeed of more obvious necessity, in order to the right 
 understanding of this revelation, than that it be read and 
 studied by us, under the character, and in the relation to 
 God, in which it addresses us. It cannot be understood 
 otherwise. If it is intended for mankind as sinners, — 
 fallen, guilty, and condemned, — how can any correct con- 
 ceptions be formed of the adaptation of its discoveries to 
 their situation, unless the reality of that situation be first 
 recognized? If the gospel be a remedial scheme, the 
 world is in a condition that requires the remedy ; and 
 neither can the suitableness of the remedy be discerned, 
 nor its value duly appreciated, further than the condition 
 itself is understood and experienced. 
 
 But, more than this. We have said, that while the 
 great principles of morals must necessarily be the same in 
 all worlds, yet of these principles the modifications may 
 be different in different worlds, according to the peculiar 
 circumstances and relations of their respective inhabitants. 
 In each world, therefore, the legitimate exercise of the 
 principles must be that which harmonizes with its dis- 
 tinctive peculiarities. Every thing else must partake of 
 i. p 
 
210 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 the spirit of rebellion against that Supreme Disposer by 
 whom these peculiarities are adjusted. This is clear 
 The inhabitants of a revolted province, in any empire, 
 must submit to the conditions on which the government 
 has determined that their restoration to their privileges 
 as subjects shall be granted, and on which their new acts 
 of allegiance shall be received. The refusal of these con- 
 ditions, under what pretext soever, is a persisting in trea- 
 sonable disaffection. If our world be a world of rebels, 
 and the Universal Governor has been pleased to reveal 
 the way, the only way, in which these rebels can be re-in- 
 stated in his favour, and their acts of homage can be ac- 
 cepted, it assuredly follows that with us (whatever may be 
 the case with other parts of his dominion) there can be no 
 true allegiance, no acceptable subjection, no rightly-prin- 
 cipled obedience, until there is an acquiescence of heart in 
 the prescribed terms. If God has revealed himself to sin- 
 ners, all the service of sinners must be rendered to him as 
 so revealed. If, as sinners, we are in a state of alienation 
 from Him, and He has been pleased to make known the 
 grounds on which he himself stands reconciled, and ready 
 to receive us back to our allegiance, the first thing to 
 which we are called, and which is manifestly indispensable, 
 is our acceding to those grounds, and accepting the recon- 
 ciliation. If the means revealed be the atonement and 
 intercession of a Mediator, how can He who has so re- 
 vealed himself accept the homage of creatures so circum- 
 stanced, otherwise than through that Mediator ? The sole 
 question is the question of fact. If the fact be admitted, 
 I see not how the conclusion can be evaded. It will not 
 do for us to take our stand on general principles, and dis- 
 regard the specialities of our condition ; — for it is in sub- 
 mission to those modifications of the general principles 
 for which these specialities have given occasion, that our 
 regard to the principles themselves, as the principles of 
 the divine government, is to be appropriately manifested. 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 211 
 
 We persist in our insubordination to the principles them- 
 selves, so long as we refuse submission to those means 
 which the Supreme Governor has prescribed, for maintain- 
 ing the perfection and permanence of their authority, and 
 preserving unsullied the character of his administration. 
 It is in this way that the rejection of the gospel becomes 
 identical, in the principle of it, with rebellion against the 
 law. 
 
 We have before seen, that the first great principle of the 
 law, and the essential element of all true morals, — is love 
 to God. And here too it is evident, the peculiarity of our 
 condition must modify the exercise of this primary prin- 
 ciple. The gracious purpose of the mediatorial scheme of 
 the gospel is to bring sinners back to God. But the love 
 of a sinner, in returning to God, must of necessity regard 
 him as he has revealed himself; — it must regard him as 
 the " God of salvation," — as " in Christ reconciling the 
 world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto 
 them." A due consideration of this might go far, perhaps, 
 to settle a question in Christian morals of no trivial im- 
 portance ; the question, namely, whether love to God must 
 be entirely disinterested; — in other words, completely 
 divested, in its exercise, of all consideration of our own 
 happiness, — regarding God exclusively for what He is in 
 himself, irrespectively of what He is to us, — and unmixed 
 with either the fear of punishment or the hope of reward. 
 
 The limits of the present discourse will not admit of my 
 entering into any extended discussion, preliminary to my 
 observations on this topic, of the more general question 
 respecting the existence or non-existence in our nature of 
 disinterested affections ; — a question on which, as on most 
 others, there has, on both sides, been a proneness to ex- 
 tremes. That there are two classes of affections within 
 us, — affections of which we ourselves, and affections of 
 which others, are, respectively, the immediate objects, — is 
 a matter of fact ascertained by every man's personal con- 
 
: 2\-2 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 seiousness. But the affections which terminate upon 
 others are, equally with those which terminate upon our- 
 selves, our own affections. Being our own, the attainment 
 of their respective ends must, of course, be a gratification 
 to ourselves. In this way, every affection that prompts us 
 to seek the good of others must, of necessity, have a reflex 
 as well as a direct influence, — an influence of pleasure to 
 the bosom in which it is exercised, as well as of benefit to 
 such as are its immediate objects ; — the two unavoidably, 
 and therefore invariably, blending together. But from the 
 fact, that when we do good to others there is a result of 
 pleasure to ourselves, to draw the conclusion that our own 
 gratification is the real and only object of those affections 
 by which we are incited to deeds of kindness, is in effect 
 to say, that the more intense the delight which a man 
 experiences in being the instrument of another's happi- 
 ness, the more decidedly has he " the witness in himself" 
 of his selfish disposition : — in other words, that a man's 
 selfishness is in the direct ratio of his pleasure in doing 
 good : — in other words still, that Howard was the most 
 selfish of human kind ! And from this it would seem to 
 be a further legitimate deduction, that, could a man be 
 supposed to do good to others without any consciousness of 
 pleasurable emotion from the happiness he imparts, the 
 purer would be his benevolence : — nay, still further, that, 
 were it consistent with possibility that a man should do 
 good to others while the sight or the report of their enjoy- 
 ment gave him pain, the higher still would be his title to 
 admiration for disinterested philanthropy. And yet such 
 supposed cases involve manifest contradiction ; for in 
 either of them, whatever might be the principle from 
 which the good was done, it could not be benevolence; inas- 
 much as to have no pleasure in others' happiness, is the 
 negation of this affection, and to have pain from others' 
 happiness is its very opposite — is positive malevolence. 
 The truth of the case, therefore, appears to be, that when- 
 
LOVE TO GOD. £13 
 
 ever a benevolent affection is gratified, self-love must also 
 be gratified ; simply because the affection gratified being 
 our own, the gratification must be our own : — and to argue 
 from this that benevolence resolves itself into self-love, is 
 to affirm the very existence of a benevolent affection im- 
 possible ; for it amounts to affirming (and no impossibility 
 can be more complete) that no such affection can have 
 place, unless in a creature so constituted as that while, 
 under its impulse, he puts forth his efforts for the good of 
 fellow-creatures, the satisfaction arising from his success 
 should come back into some other bosom than his own ! 
 That, selfishness is one of the besetting sins of our fallen 
 nature, I grant ; from which it arises, that there may be 
 much of a spurious beneficence, which has its source 
 in other principles than benevolence ; nay, that there may 
 be much even of a spurious benevolence, such as, if closely 
 scrutinized, would be found to contain more in it of self 
 than the agent, negligent of self-examination, is aware. 
 But still the existence of the spurious does not disprove 
 the possibility of the genuine. It may be a good reason 
 for self-jealousy; but it is no more. Pleasure having been 
 wisely and kindly attached, by that God who is love, to the 
 exercise of benevolence, are we to restrain its indulgence, 
 and be fearful of satiating ourselves with the luxury of 
 doing good, merely lest some cynical philosopher should 
 tell us we are selfish ? Shall we call the Divine Being 
 selfish, because " he delighteth in mercy?" — because the 
 exercise of his infinite love is one of the springs of his 
 infinite blessedness ? — because he is happy in the diffusion 
 of happiness ? In this respect, every holy creature bears 
 the image of his Creator ; and, but for the entrance of sin, 
 benevolence and self-love would have continued to play 
 their respective parts in unjarring and delightful symphony. 
 Could Ave fancy the suggestion introduced into the mind 
 of such a creature, while by a generous sympathy he was 
 making the happiness of others his own, and enjoying the 
 
214 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 plenitude of bliss in contributing, by active beneficence, 
 to its diffusion, — that his benevolence was certainly and 
 entirely selfish, because he had pleasure in the indulgence 
 of it, — that he was quite mistaken in fancying himself 
 kind, because he actually delighted in being so ; — how 
 strangely would it startle him ; how unaccountably odd 
 would the metaphysics appear by which it was dictated ! 
 He would in one instant perceive and feel it to be a 
 sophistical quibble. His whole soul would tell him, that 
 the delight in the happiness of others, which was the 
 ground of the sophists imputation of selfishness, was 
 what constituted the very benevolence whose existence it 
 was alleged to disprove.* 
 
 The observations thus made respecting the inseparable 
 blending of the benevolent affections with those of self-love, 
 we may find, in the spirit of them, capable of application 
 to the question now before us respecting the disinterested- 
 ness of love to God. Generated originally, as it would 
 appear, amongst the ancient Mystics, the doctrine of the 
 possibility, and even of the necessity to true godliness, oJ 
 such self-denying, self-annihilating love was revived abou 
 the middle of the seventeenth century, was adopted b; 
 some devout spirits with an enthusiastic fervour, and foun 
 an advocate equally amiable and eloquent in the celebrate 
 Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray. Into the details of tJ* 
 controversy between him and the no less celebraf'd 
 Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, — the characters, talents, a-d 
 tempers of the combatants, — the ultimate decision of t e 
 controversy by papal bull, against Fenelon, — or the allegd 
 influence by which the condemnation of himself and his 
 tenets was obtained, — it is not my purpose to enter. They 
 are points of ecclesiastical history, rather than of ethical 
 disquisition. The doctrine has not been confined to that 
 period, or to that portion of the church. It has had advo- 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note S. 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 215 
 
 cates amongst Protestant theologians of the first rank; 
 amongst whom it is only necessary to mention the name of 
 Jonathan Edwards, to secure for the subject a grave and 
 deliberate discussion. It shall be my endeavour to avoid 
 extremes on either side, and, with as much simplicity as 
 possible, to elicit what appears to be the truth. 
 
 The text prefixed to this Lecture may be understood 
 consistently with either side of the question ; for it is 
 susceptible of two interpretations. It may either signify 
 simply that the love of God to us is the origin of our love 
 to him, or that it is the reason for which we love him ; that 
 is, either that it is in consequence of God's having loved us, 
 that we, by his grace, have been brought to love him, or 
 that his previous love to us is that on account of which we 
 love him. The advocates of what has been termed disin- 
 terested love to God adopt, of course, the former inter- 
 pretation ; while its opponents maintain the latter. It 
 will appear, I am persuaded, from the views of the 
 question which are now to be presented to you, that the 
 two explanations are not at all incompatible ; that both are 
 true ; that they are closely connected with each other ; and 
 that therefore, without impropriety, both may be compre- 
 hended in the statement of the text. 
 
 I begin, then, with observing, what does not seem to 
 admit of a doubt, that the true, proper, original ground of 
 love to God is God's essential loveliness, — the amiableness of 
 his moral nature. I say of his moral nature, for the obvious 
 reason, that his natural attributes are not susceptible of 
 the quality of loveliness except as connected in their 
 exercise with his moral excellencies. Eternity, immensity, 
 omnipresence, omniscience, omnipotence, are not properly 
 amiable in themselves. It depends entirely on the moral 
 perfections with which they are associated, whether they 
 shall engender love or hatred, horror or delight. " It is a 
 moral excellency alone," says Edwards, " that is in itself, 
 and on its own account, the excellency of intelligent 
 
'216 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 beings. It is this that gives beauty to, or rather is the 
 beauty of, their natural perfections or qualifications. 
 Moral excellency is the excellency of natural excellencies. 
 Natural qualifications are either excellent or not, according 
 as they are joined with moral excellency or not. The holi- 
 ness of an intelligent creature is the beauty of all his 
 natural perfections. And so it is in God, according to our 
 way of conceiving of the Divine Being : holiness is, in a 
 peculiar manner, the beauty of the divine nature."* By 
 holiness we are to understand the whole of God's moral 
 excellence — the entire assemblage of his moral beauties. 
 It is for all these that he is loved by holy creatures. They 
 perceive, they relish, they delight in contemplating, that 
 " beauty of holiness " which consists in their full combina- 
 tion and inseparable union. 
 
 Our next observation is one which was, incidentally and 
 in a different connexion, introduced in last Lecture, — that 
 self-love is an essential principle in the constitution of every 
 intelligent creature; meaning by self-love the desire of its 
 own preservation and well-being. By no effort of imagina- 
 tion can we fancy to ourselves such a creature constituted 
 without this. It is an original law in the nature of every 
 sentient existence. In man, it is true, with regard espe- 
 cially to the sources from which it has sought its gratifica- 
 tion, it is a principle which, since his fall, has been 
 miserably perverted and debased, degenerating, in ten 
 thousand instances, into utter selfishness, and in all par- 
 taking of this unworthy taint. Between selfishness, how- 
 ever, and legitimate self-love, there is an obvious and wide 
 discrepancy. The latter is not at all distinctive of our 
 nature as degenerate, but was inwoven in its very texture, 
 as it came from the Creator's hand. The former is pro- 
 perly the corruption of the latter. It leads the creature 
 who is under its dominant influence to prefer self to fellow - 
 
 * Treatise on Religious Affections, p. 211. 
 
\ 
 
 LOVE TO GOD. 217 
 
 creatur! s and to God, so as to seek its own real or sup- 
 posed advantage at the expense of the interests and the 
 nonpar of both. So far, on the contrary, is self-love from 
 being unwarrantable, that, in that part of God's law which 
 prescribes our feelings and conduct towards our fellow- 
 creatures, it is assumed as the standard measure of the 
 commanded duty — " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as 
 thyself." Take away self-love, or suppose it possible that 
 the human heart should be divested of it, and you anni- 
 hilate the command by rendering it unintelligible. 
 
 There is no part, assuredly, of the divine word, by which, 
 in any circumstances, we are required to divest ourselves 
 of this essential principle in our constitution. That word, 
 on the contrary, is full of appeals to it, under every diver- 
 sity of form. Such are all its threatenings, all its promises, 
 all its invitations. What, indeed, is the offer of salvation, 
 in the fulness of its blessings, but an inducement presented 
 to self-love, or the natural desire of happiness, to compli- 
 ance with the calls of the gospel? To what principle, if 
 not to this, does Jehovah address himself, when, in terms 
 which are only a specimen of innumerable more, he says, 
 " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters"? — 
 " Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die ?" may be taken as 
 the spirit of many a kind expostulation, the substance of 
 many an importunate entreaty, the burden of many a 
 " song of the charmer." 
 
 True, however, as all this is, the truth is not less un- 
 questionable, that love to God merely for what we receive 
 from him, is not love to God at all. When in no degree is 
 the divine attribute of goodness contemplated in itself, as 
 constituting a part of the moral excellence and loveliness 
 of the Godhead, but solely and exclusively in its aspect 
 towards us, and in the gifts of kindness which it confers 
 upon us ; — this certainly is nothing better than unmingled 
 self-love. It is love, not properly to the Giver, but to the 
 gift ; or (which, if not precisely, is as nearly as possible 
 
218 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 the same thing) it is love to the Giver merely as a giver, 
 for his gift's sake, and not for his own. It terminates en- 
 tirely on self. There is no denying of this. The illus- 
 tration of it might be amplified ; but it is with principles I 
 have at present to do ; — and of this principle the truth is 
 too self-evident to require or to admit of proof. Gratitude 
 of the kind described will be found in the most selfish 
 specimens of our fallen nature. " If ye love them that 
 love you, what thank have ye ? for sinners also love those 
 that love them." It is common to man with the brutes. 
 Where will you find more striking exemplifications of it, 
 than in a faithful dog to a gentle and generous master?* 
 
 Of the description mentioned is that love which you 
 may hear some men profess for God, while they are enter- 
 taining and cherishing false views of his character. They 
 flatter themselves into the persuasion of his being " such 
 an one as themselves," who will not, as they express it, be 
 strict to mark their iniquities against them, — who is so 
 very benignant and kind, that he can never find in his 
 heart to condemn and punish, with unrelenting rigour, his 
 frail and erring creatures : — and then they love him ! But 
 why? Simply because his character, as they thus con- 
 ceive of it, bears a flattering aspect towards themselves, — 
 laying them under no necessity to deny their passions, to 
 renounce sin and the world, and to crucify the flesh. — 
 Such love as this is worse than selfish. Selfishness may 
 often have regard to what is not in itself wrong ; but in 
 this love there is the essential principle of depravity. The 
 beautifully consistent injunction of the Bible is — "Ye that 
 love the Lord, hate evil ; " — but such men absolutely love 
 God for the sake of the evil. It is not God at all that is 
 
 * By some, perhaps, this may he considered as hardly doing justice to the 
 inferior natures, and especially to the canine. Yet, partial as I am disposed 
 to be to these natures, I can hardly contend for the perception and apprecia- 
 tion by them of amiable qualities in the human character, independently alto- 
 gether of the treatment they receive. And this is all that is meant. 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 219 
 
 the object of their love ; it is sin ; it is this vain and evil 
 world. These they love : and, when they have fashioned 
 to their imaginations a God who will not be severe upon 
 them for the indulgence of this their liking to sin and to 
 the world, they can love him too : — and they can even 
 cherish a delusive self-complacency in the fancy, that, 
 whatever may be the case with others, they are very far 
 from being what certain harshly-judging enthusiasts would 
 represent them, — haters of God. But, in very deed, love 
 to this God of their own is hatred of the true God. It is 
 loving him for the opposite of what he is ; — it is loving 
 him for that which he hates, on which the eyes of his 
 purity " cannot look," and against which he has denounced 
 the terrors of his wrath ! — and could such men but suc- 
 ceed in persuading themselves that God will not visit their 
 sins with punishment at all, they would (according to their 
 delusive use of terms) love him still the more. 
 
 But, while such gratitude as regards the Divine Giver 
 merely for his gift's sake, — and, if the gift be but obtained 
 and enjoyed, cares not what the character may be of Him 
 from whom it comes, — while such gratitude has in it'no- 
 thing beyond what is natural, nothing spiritual, nothing 
 gracious, — there being no more grace, or spirituality, or 
 holiness, in the desire of enjoyment than in the dread and 
 deprecation of suffering : — yet, assuredly, there is such 
 an affection of heart as a truly generous gratitude, — gra- 
 cious, spiritual, holy gratitude. Wherein, then, lies the 
 difference between such gratitude and the selfish senti- 
 ment of which we have been speaking ? Chiefly in this, — 
 that true gratitude is inseparably accompanied with the 
 perception and love of the attribute of goodness in Deity, 
 as a part of his moral excellence or amiableness, and does 
 not regard it exclusively as a source of benefit to ourselves. 
 Even here, I grant, we are in danger of self-deception, and 
 require to watch, with a jealous scrutiny, the real state of 
 our hearts; lest, while we flatter ourselves that we are 
 
220 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 loving the divine benevolence for its own intrinsic ami- 
 ableness, we be only, after all, pleased with the gift, and 
 influenced by a feeling that rises no higher than natural 
 gratitude, — a principle belonging to the same category 
 with some others, which it is odious and criminal to want, 
 but which there is no great measure of positive virtue in 
 possessing. There is a vast amount of self-complacent 
 sentimentalism in regard to the divine goodness, which, if 
 analysed, would be found to resolve itself into nothing better 
 than fondness for that facile pliancy of disposition, already 
 adverted to, with which imagination has invested the Su- 
 preme Being, and by which he will be induced to deal very 
 gently with his creatures ; a fondness in no degree associated 
 with complacency in his holiness, or love to his general 
 excellence. But what more is there in this, than self-love 
 fashioning the character of the Godhead to a conformity 
 with its own illusory predilections ? In order to prevent 
 our being the dupes of such self-deception, it ought to be 
 the subject of constant and faithful inquisition in the se- 
 cret tribunal of our own hearts, whether our professed love 
 to God embraces the whole of his moral excellency, — his 
 purity, as well as his kindness. 
 
 But, while liableness to self-delusion should induce 
 vigilance over our deceitful hearts, let it not carry us too 
 far. We should greatly err, were we to exclude the opera- 
 tion of a principle in itself right, because there is a danger 
 of its being alloyed with the admixture of others of an 
 inferior order, or even of questionable legitimacy. Of 
 appeals to gratitude the Scriptures are full, as one of the 
 springs of active service, and a principle which it is our 
 duty to cherish. " I am the Lord thy God, which brought 
 thee up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of 
 bondage," is a consideration appended to I know not how 
 many of the Divine commands to Israel by Moses : — and 
 in all the subsequent history of the chosen people, they 
 are incessantly reminded by the prophets of the kindness 
 
LOVE TO GOD. '211 
 
 of Jehovah to themselves and to their fathers, and urged 
 by the remembrance to a suitable requital. And the very 
 same spirit pervades the New Testament. The Apostles, 
 the inspired " Ambassadors of Christ," are ever, in their 
 practical admonitions, appealing to the " mercies of God," 
 disclosed so affectingly by the gospel, as the grand motive 
 by which believers should be influenced in the " reason- 
 able service " of " presenting their persons living sacrifices 
 unto God," and " glorifying him in their bodies and spirits, 
 which are his." Those parts of the Bible, too, which con- 
 tain the devout utterance of the believer's heart, are full 
 of the breathings of grateful love, and of the liveliest and 
 most rapturous expressions of adoring thankfulness. 
 
 In the experience of holy creatures, — of creatures, I 
 mean, who have never fallen from their original purity, — 
 these two descriptions of love, gratitude for Gods good- 
 ness, and affectionate complacency in all that God is, must 
 ever, we conceive, exist in inseparable union. As holy, 
 they love God for his holiness ; as happy, they love God 
 as the Author of their happiness. They experience and 
 contemplate his kindness to themselves, as only an emana- 
 tion of the infinite benignity that is in his heart, — and 
 that subsists there in intimate and indissoluble combina- 
 tion with untainted purity and inflexible rectitude. In the 
 character of God there is nothing but what perfectly suits 
 the taste of a holy creature. He likes it all. He would 
 revolt with horror from the very imagination of its being, 
 in any respect or in any degree, other than it is. Created 
 himself in the image of God, he loves with his whole soul 
 the Divine Prototype, the eternal and unchanging reality, 
 of which his own nature is the faint and feeble shadow. 
 In the bosom of such a creature, love to the Author of his 
 holiness and love to the Author of his happiness cannot 
 by possibility be separated : — for his holiness is his happi- 
 ness. He feels, that He who made him happy, made him 
 happy by making him holy. He delights in God for the 
 
2'22 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 spotless loveliness of his moral nature ; but he never can 
 dissociate this delight from the view, which he necessarily 
 has before his mind, of the same Being, as his own bene- 
 factor and friend. So that, in this manner, holy delight, 
 melting gratitude, and unsuspecting confidence, blend 
 harmoniously together, and form, if we must not say one 
 feeling, yet one most blessed state and habitude of soul. 
 
 In bringing the present inquiry to bear upon ourselves, 
 it is important to be kept in mind, that love to God for 
 what he is continues the duty of every intelligent creature, 
 under every change of character and of circumstances. 
 The obligation of the " first and great commandment " 
 cannot but remain upon all God's rational offspring. 
 Apostasy cannot dissolve it ; for were the obligation can- 
 celled, sin would be at an end. The concentrated essence 
 of all human guilt lies in the want of this love to God. 
 In every thought, and word, and action of fallen man there 
 is sin, in proportion as there is the absence of this first 
 and only principle of all obedience. It is true, that a 
 depraved creature cannot love the moral excellencies of the 
 Divine character. But why ? Not from any want of 
 natural or intellectual capacity for the discernment of that 
 excellence, — nor from any want of the natural or consti- 
 tutional capacity of loving ; but simply and exclusively, 
 from the moral state of the heart. The inability consists 
 solely in indisposition, and indeed is identical with it. It 
 is indisposition, and nothing else, and nothing more. If, 
 indeed, the essence of depravity consists in enmity against 
 God, — what more do we affirm, in saying that a depraved 
 creature cannot love the moral excellence of the Divine 
 Nature, than that enmity is not, and never can be, love ? 
 It is only the affirmation, that two opposite states of affec- 
 tion towards the same object cannot subsist in the heart 
 at the same time. The inability of which we speak is the 
 inability of evil to love good, of pollution to love purity ;- — 
 an inability which, instead of cancelling obligation, is itself 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 223 
 
 the state of habitually violated obligation, and the very 
 sum of the creature's guiltiness. When we say of a man 
 under the influence of the principle of integrity that he 
 cannot do a dishonest thing, we do not mean that he has 
 not the mental or the physical capacity to do it ; we mean 
 that such is the power of his ruling principle that no con- 
 sideration would tempt him to violate its dictates. We 
 thus express a moral inability of a favourable and com- 
 mendable kind. We pay the highest tribute of admiration 
 to the divine attribute of truth, when w r e say that " it is 
 impossible for God to lie :" — and were we to say of Satan, 
 the " father of lies," that he cannot speak truth, unless for 
 purposes of evil, we should express in the strongest pos- 
 sible terms, the inveteracy and unmingled prevalence of 
 the principles of malignity in that apostate spirit. Thus, 
 when we speak of moral inability, in a good or in a bad 
 sense, we mean no more than the dominion, respectively, 
 of good or bad dispositions : — so that inability to love God 
 is the very same thing with enmity against him, or that 
 dreadful perversity of moral feeling that is repelled, instead 
 of being attracted, by the light and love of the Godhead.* 
 This, I have said, is the essence of human guilt ; and it 
 is the essence of guilt, w T herever, throughout the universe, 
 it may exist. It is the sin of earth, it is the sin of hell. 
 There, as well as here, the obligation to love God conti- 
 nues, — continues in all its force. There, as well as here, 
 there remains the natural capacity of knowing and of 
 loving; — and God himself, being immutably the same, 
 
 * Agreeing as I do, to a large extent, with the views given by Sir. Hinton 
 on this subject, in his recent publications, I must be permitted to shrink 
 from the proposal of discarding the phraseology of inability, and even moral 
 inability, altogether. Our Lord says — "No man can come unto me (dwarai 
 eXdeiv,) unless the Father who hath sent me draw him." Such an example 
 sufficiently warrants the phraseology. I grant, however, with regret and pain, 
 that it is often used most injudiciously, — in a manner that cannot fail to be 
 productive of impressions the most false, and of consequences tbe most per- 
 nicious, both to the honour of God and the safety of men. 
 
9.24 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 continues as worthy to be loved as ever, — infinitely worthy. 
 He has lost no part of his claim to the love of every intel- 
 ligent mind, since man or angel fell. If the obligation to 
 love him ceased, there would be no sin in hell, any more 
 than on earth. The guilt of original apostasy might 
 remain ; but the further accumulation of guilt would be 
 impossible. 
 
 The idea, however, of disinterested love to God has 
 been carried to a very wild extreme. When men have 
 spoken of the duty and the possibility of retaining love to 
 God, and rejoicing in his being glorified, although the 
 glory should arise from their being themselves " thrust 
 down to hell "and made the victims of endless perdition, — 
 they have spoken, I apprehend, very unadvisedly, "under- 
 standing neither what they say, nor whereof they affirm." 
 The language involves self-contradiction ; the very sup- 
 position made in it being one which, were it within the 
 bounds of possibility that it should be realized, would 
 divest the blessed God of all that is amiable in his nature, 
 and so render love to him impossible ; for we cannot love, — 
 no creature can, — that which is not in itself lovely, nor 
 can there be guilt in the absence of such love. Let me not 
 be misapprehended. I am aware, that of what is in itself 
 lovely, morally lovely, the likings of a depraved nature can 
 never be the legitimate standard. It is not because 
 Jehovah has lost his loveliness, that such a creature does 
 not discern and admire it ; it is because the creature has 
 lost his rectitude of moral disposition, and his consequent 
 perceptions of moral beauty. But by the supposition of 
 which I am now speaking, Deity would be divested of his 
 loveliness. Look at it in every point of light. Is it the 
 case of a holy creature, a creature that has not sinned, 
 consigned to perdition in the exercise of pure sovereignty? 
 The supposition is one pregnant with all that is revolting. 
 It robs Deity, at once and utterly, of whatever can possibly 
 render him the object of love and confidence, and converts 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 2Q5 
 
 him into a very demon of malignity and unrighteousness. 
 Is it, on the other hand, a sinful creature, hut one to 
 whom, in the Divine name, the offers of mercy through a 
 Mediator have heen made, and who has humbly and thank- 
 fully accepted them, believing in Christ, and confiding in 
 the promises ? Does not the-, supposition of such an one 
 perishing involve, as flagrantly as before, the same conse- 
 quence ? — divesting Deity of all that can attract and retain 
 the confiding affection of his creatures? It would be a 
 violation of truth, — a breach of covenant, — a faithless 
 dereliction of all the revealed grace and blood-sealed 
 engagements of the gospel ! So that here too the contra- 
 diction remains, of God's ceasing to be worthy of love, and 
 the creature, notwithstanding, being still bound to love 
 him. — And is the supposition with which we set out, of a 
 creature being damned who so loves God as to be satisfied 
 with damnation for the sake of his glory, less revolting than 
 either of these ? — The truth is, that all such suppositions 
 are, in their very nature, blasphemous. They ought never 
 to be so much as admitted into the mind ; because, how- 
 ever much, in words, they may seem to glorify God, they 
 do, in reality, most fearfully dishonour him. 
 
 It may perhaps be alleged, that the view thus given of 
 the principle of disinterested love is an extreme one, — and 
 that the extravagance of a few of its advocates cannot be 
 admitted as affording a fair and sober representation of it. 
 Yet, if the principle itself be legitimate, it is not easy to 
 see at what point the limit of disinterestedness is to be 
 fixed. If the perfection of love to God does consist in 
 loving him exclusively for what He is, independently 
 altogether of what he is to us, — it is difficult to fancy any 
 point short of this extreme one, at which we can con- 
 sistently stop. But we at once deny, or rather repeat the 
 denial, that this is the perfection of love to God. We 
 contend that it is essentially defective; — and that such 
 perfection consists, neither in the love of complacency 
 I. Q 
 
226 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 alone, nor in the love of gratitude alone, but in the union 
 of both. We contend that in the bosom of a holy creature 
 they are incapable of distinct subsistence, — gratitude 
 without complacency, or complacency without gratitude. 
 Now it is obviously from the state of the principle in the 
 bosom of such a creature, that our notion of its perfection 
 must be formed : — and if there the two are in union, why 
 is a purer and a loftier disinterestedness, according to the 
 false notions of the system which requires it, to be de- 
 manded of man when regenerated from his sinful debase- 
 ment, than existed in man during his original innocence 
 and glory? 
 
 The same observation, perhaps, respecting their inse- 
 parable union as constituting the true perfection of love, 
 may contribute to the determination of another question, — 
 Which of the two, in conversion, is to be regarded as 
 having the precedence ? President Edwards insists upon 
 it, that all genuine love to God commences in a compla- 
 cential regard to him for what he is ; that true gratitude 
 must invariably be preceded by this, and have it for the 
 foundation on which it rests. Now, that there can be no 
 true gratitude for his goodness and grace to us, apart from 
 complacency in Him for what he is in himself, I have 
 already freely admitted ; but that the latter must always 
 rise in the soul first, taking precedence of the other either 
 in nature or in time, I am far from being so willing to 
 concede. " In a holy thankfulness to God," says Edwards, 
 " the concern our interest has in the Divine goodness is 
 not the first foundation of our being affected with it. 
 That was laid in the heart before, in that stock of love 
 which was to God for his excellency in himself, that makes 
 the heart tender, and susceptible of such impressions from 
 his goodness to us. Nor is our own interest, or the benefit we 
 have received, the only or the chief objective ground of the 
 present exercise of the affection, but God's goodness as 
 part of the beauty of his nature ; although the manifesta- 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 227 
 
 tions of that lovely attribute, set immediately before our 
 eyes in the exercises of it for us, be the special occasion 
 of the mind's attention to that beauty at that time, and 
 serves to fix the attention, and heighten the affection."* 
 The love is represented by him as " arising primarily 
 from the excellency of divine things as they are in them- 
 selves, and not from any conceived relation they have to 
 our own interests." And in the same strain he speaks 
 respecting spiritual joy. " The first foundation of the 
 delight a true saint has in God is his own perfection ; and 
 the first foundation of the delight he has in Christ is his 
 own beauty : he appears in himself ' the chief among ten 
 thousand, and altogether lovely.' The way of salvation by 
 Christ is a delightful way to him, for the sweet and 
 admirable manifestations of the divine perfections in it: 
 the holy doctrines of the gospel, by which God is exalted 
 and man abased, holiness honoured and promoted, and sin 
 greatly disgraced and discouraged, and free and sovereign 
 love manifested, are glorious doctrines in his eyes, and 
 sweet to his taste, prior to any conception of his interest in 
 these things. The saints rejoice in their interest in God, 
 and that Christ is theirs ; and they have great reason : but 
 this is not the first spring of their joy. They first rejoice 
 in God as glorious and excellent in himself, and then, 
 secondarily, rejoice in it, that so glorious a God is 
 theirs, "f 
 
 I almost fear to detract any thing from the high-toned 
 loftiness of the principles of character thus laid down. 
 Yet I cannot but suspect, that in insisting on the invari- 
 able precedence of the abstract love of God for what he is 
 to any sentiment of gratitude to him for what he reveals 
 himself as having done, there is more of the metaphysics 
 of the schools than of the simplicity of the Bible : a kind 
 of transcendentalism, that passes the limits of divine re- 
 
 * Treatise on Eeligious Affections. Part III. Second Sign of gracious 
 Affections. + ibid. 
 
228 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 quirement. What, in point of fact, is the prevailing style 
 of gospel invitation? When sinners are addressed in such 
 invitation, is the ground assumed by the Apostles the ab- 
 stract excellence and matchless loveliness of the Divine 
 character, independently of any relation in which he 
 stands to themselves ? Is it not rather " the riches of his 
 grace," his " kindness towards them in Christ Jesus," 
 his " delight in mercy," his readiness to save ? I adduce 
 a single specimen, which the memory of every reader of 
 the New Testament will recognize as in harmony with the 
 whole spirit and tenour of its contents. It is 2 Cor. v. 18 
 — 21 : " And all things are of God, who hath reconciled 
 us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the 
 ministry of reconciliation ; to wit, that God was in Christ, 
 reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their 
 trespasses unto them ; and hath committed unto us the 
 word of reconciliation. Now then we are ambassadors for 
 Christ, as though God did beseech by us : we pray (men) 
 in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God. For he hath 
 made him who knew no sin to be sin for us ; that we 
 might be made the righteousness of God in him." — It is 
 quite true, that wherever, by the illumination of the Spirit, 
 a spiritual discernment is imparted of the mercy of God 
 to sinners in Christ Jesus, there comes along with it a 
 discovery to the soul of Divine beauty, and especially of 
 that infinite love, of which, in its union with light, so 
 transcendent a manifestation is made by the gospel. But 
 still, in the unqualified assertion, that all true love to God 
 must begin, not with the emotion of gratitude, not with 
 any feeling of self-interest, but with admiring complacency 
 and delight in the abstract perfection of Divine loveliness, 
 there is something which is litted to awaken startling 
 doubts, and to engender needlessly perplexing and dis- 
 couraging fears, in the bosoms of many, to whom God 
 would speak comfort and peace. I refer to those who, 
 when first convinced of sin, and alarmed by the apprehen- 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 229 
 
 sion of its consequences, flee at once to God, as the God 
 of salvation, and lay hold of his covenanted mercy ; and in 
 whose souls the first emotion of which they are conscious 
 is that of wondering gratitude, — the emotion which natively 
 arises from the style of gospel invitation, as above exem- 
 plified. — I confess myself, indeed, at a loss to discern the 
 consistency of Edwards's own statement. While he af- 
 firms, that the doctrines of the cross must appear glorious 
 in the sinner's eyes, and be felt sweet to his taste, " prior 
 to any conception of his interest " in that which they make 
 known to him, — he at the same time admits, that " the 
 manifestations of the lovely attribute of the divine good- 
 ness set immediately before cur eyes in its exercise for us, 
 are the special occasion of the mind's attention to that 
 beauty at the time." Now, if the special exercise of the 
 attribute in what it has done for us be the means by which 
 the attribute in its general amiableness is introduced and 
 commended to our attention and affectionate regard, — how 
 is it conceivable, how is it possible, that the attribute 
 itself, in its abstract excellence, should become the object 
 of our complacent delight and love in the first instance, and 
 prior to any conception of our own interest in the disco- 
 very made of it? To me it seems evident, that, in the 
 bosom of a consciously guilty creature, the view of the 
 divine justice, and purity, and determined hostility to all 
 sin, must necessarily engender despair, and nothing but 
 despair. Now in despair there is no love, — no love, either 
 of complacency or of gratitude. It has been said, with 
 as much truth of sentiment as sublimity of illustration, 
 that " a sinner can no more admire and love the character 
 of a holy God when it opens upon his mind in a convinc- 
 ing manifestation, than he can survey with pleasure the 
 beauties of a lovely landscape, when the light by which he 
 sees it is the sudden fire of a bursting volcano."* 
 
 While, however, we plead for the legitimacy and the 
 
 * Dr. Chalmers. 
 
230 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 duty of gratitude, as one of the emotions to which the 
 believing view of the Cross gives birth, and one of the 
 habitual principles which the faith of the Cross maintains, 
 — it must ever be borne in mind, that we plead for that 
 gratitude only which is associated with love to God for 
 what He is, and for all that He is. It is, to say the very 
 least of it, a most unfortunate expression of Mr. Sandeman, 
 that " all a sinner's godliness consists in love to that which 
 first relieved him." On this expression chiefly, the late 
 Mr. Fuller rests the conclusion, that the whole of the prac- 
 tical system of Sandemanianism is founded in a principle 
 of pure selfishness ; a conclusion which he places in a 
 variety of opprobrious lights, and exposes with all his 
 logical acuteness and sarcastic severity. " He that views 
 the cross of Christ," says he, " merely as an expedient to 
 relieve the guilty, or only subscribes to the justice of God 
 in his condemnation when conceiving himself delivered 
 from it, has yet to learn the first principles of Christianity. 
 His rejoicing in the justice of God, as satisfied by the death 
 of Christ, while he hates it in itself considered, is no more 
 than rejoicing in a dreaded tyrant being appeased, or 
 somehow diverted from coming to hurt him. And shall 
 we call this love of God ? To make our deliverance from 
 divine condemnation the condition of our subscribing to 
 the justice of it, proves, beyond all contradiction, that we 
 care only for ourselves, and that the love of God is not in 
 us." This is most true : — if the supposed sentiment be 
 held, there is no evading the conclusion. But who, I 
 would ask, ever avowed, ever held, ever could hold, such 
 a sentiment ? In the system of Sandeman there are posi- 
 tions from which I decidedly dissent ; and the spirit in 
 which he has propounded his system I hold in unqualified 
 detestation. But the views exhibited in his writings of 
 the ground of a sinner's hope, and of the simplicity of the 
 medium of interest in that ground, are in general admir- 
 ably clear : — and I cannot but think that, in affixing to his 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 231 
 
 ideas of godliness the stigma of unmingled selfishness, 
 more has been made of his strong and (it may be admitted) 
 unguarded language, than, in candid interpretation, it will 
 bear. I question if, by the obnoxious expression of which 
 Mr. Fuller makes so ample a use, Mr. Sandeman meant 
 more than that a sinner's love to God must regard Him 
 in the relation in which the gospel reveals him, — that is, 
 as the God of grace and salvation, — as " in Christ recon- 
 ciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses 
 unto them." Let it be observed, that to interpret the 
 expression as " making our deliverance from condemnation 
 the condition of our subscribing to the justice of it" — is 
 to make his sentiment not merely selfish, but self-contra- 
 dictory, and its author not only heretical, but devoid of 
 understanding. For, according to this interpretation, 
 there is obviously, on the sinner's part, no subscribing to 
 the justice of his sentence at all; inasmuch as not to 
 acknowledge a sentence just, except upon the condition of 
 its not being executed, is in truth to pronounce it unjust. 
 I will venture to say, that no professor of the faith of the 
 gospel ever held such a sentiment, and that no man on 
 earth (judging from his writings) was ever farther from 
 holding it than Robert Sandeman ; — whose entire system 
 proceeds on the assumption of the unimpeachable right- 
 eousness of legal condemnation, and the consequent uncon- 
 ditional freeness of gospel grace. 
 
 The question now before us is, indeed, a question rather 
 of fact than of theory. The question is, Does any depraved 
 and guilty creature — Can any depraved and guilty creature, 
 ever love and rejoice in the justice of God, till he has 
 some perception of the union of that justice with mercy 
 in the discoveries of the gospel ? Till then, he hates it, 
 and he cannot but hate it. A heart that is enmity against 
 God, and regardless of his glory, cannot but hate what 
 condemns itself and subjects it to destruction. But, 
 although the sinner, in his unconverted state, is thu s 
 
232 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 selfish, solicitous only to escape suffering, whatever become 
 of the divine honour, — it does not at all follow, that be- 
 cause it is the discovery to his mind of the union of 
 holiness with mercy, of justice with grace, that first 
 attracts and fixes his love, therefore that love, at the time, 
 and ever after, must be a selfish principle. With equal 
 reason might it be pleaded, that the love which an unf alien 
 and sinless creature bears to God must be a selfish love, 
 because, in loving the divine justice, he loves it as a part 
 of the divine character, — that is, he loves it in its in- 
 separable union with infinite benevolence. And yet, to 
 love it otherwise, to love it abstractedly from such benevo- 
 lence, would not, most assuredly, be to love it as it subsists 
 in God : — for there, from eternity to eternity, the two are 
 inseparably blended ; — the justice is benevolent justice, 
 the benevolence righteous benevolence ; and every one 
 attribute of the character must be loved in its association 
 with all the rest. 
 
 How, then, stands the case ? What is the view of his 
 character in which God actually becomes the object of love 
 to the converted sinner? To this question I would 
 answer in one word, — it is the view of it in which it is 
 eevealed in the cross. There the spiritually enlightened 
 sinner sees " Mercy and Truth meeting together, Eight- 
 eousness and Peace embracing each other," — holiness 
 in union with love, justice with grace ; — and, under the 
 agency of the regenerating Spirit, he loves God in the un- 
 broken harmony of all his attributes, as displayed in the 
 Redeemer's work, — the harmony of " light " and " love." 
 The light without the love, — the purity of the Divine 
 Nature flashing upon the mind apart from its benevolence, 
 could only drive to despair : — the love without the light, 
 the mere benevolence of God disunited from his essential 
 purity, could engender no feeling but that of a selfish 
 satisfaction in sin. But, light and love together con- 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 233 
 
 stituting the true character of God as it is manifested in 
 the cross, it is in this view of it that it becomes the object 
 of love to the believing sinner. The very consideration, 
 that the love which springs up in his bosom is love to 
 God as He is seen in Jesus Christ, is of itself sufficient to 
 show, that it must be love to holiness as well as to good- 
 ness ; — for the love displayed in Christ is holy love, — love 
 so blended and incorporated with purity, that in the mind 
 which takes a right view of the Saviours work, the one 
 cannot be disunited from the other. On the cross, the 
 two inscriptions stand alike conspicuous — " God is light," 
 and "God is love." Both are seen together; both are 
 believed together ; and the love which springs from this 
 faith regards the Divine Being under both aspects, — com- 
 prehending at once gratitude to the God of mercy, and 
 delight in the God of holiness. It is thus the same 
 principle with that which rules in the bosoms of creatures 
 that have never fallen. There is in the nature of the 
 Divine Being what is fitted to inspire the very holiest and 
 happiest of creatures with awe, even while they love, 
 delight, and adore. The entire character, in all its parts, 
 is at once the object of "reverence and godly fear," and of 
 the purest, the most fervent, and the most confiding 
 affection ; and by the contemplation of it in the cross, 
 both feelings are called forth into exercise, even in 
 angelic bosoms. Were it in our power to separate these 
 views of God ; — could we give a guilty creature, in the 
 full consciousness of his guilt, to see one side only of the 
 manifestation, — to see the cross as the exhibition solely of 
 the untainted purity, the undissembling truth, the un- 
 bending justice, and the avenging jealousy, of the Being 
 with whom he has to do, the cross itself would become the 
 mightiest instrument of torture to the awakened soul, — 
 subjecting it to the agonies of a spiritual crucifixion, — 
 inflicting on it the horrors of despair. But the cross, 
 
234 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 whilst it shows the holiness of God in all its purity, the 
 justice of God in all its strictness, and the jealousy of 
 God in all its consuming terrors, holds forth also to view 
 the love of God in all its infinitude, the compassions of 
 God in all their tenderness, the mercy of God in all its 
 fulness and freeness : — so that, from the believing view of 
 it there spring up, at the same moment, the emotions of 
 affectionate fear and reverential love, — of complacent 
 delight and thankful joy, — under the combined influence 
 of which the happy spirit relies upon him, serves him, 
 imitates him, enjoys him : — and in ninety-nine cases out 
 of the hundred, — probably in nine hundred and ninety- 
 nine out of the thousand, were the metaphysical question 
 proposed to the simple-hearted subject of divine grace, 
 while charmed and melted and gladdened by the new 
 lights that have come in upon his mind, whether the love 
 of gratitude or the love of complacency had first touched 
 his soul, — he would be at a loss for a reply : — he would 
 be in danger of fretting at the unwelcome interruption 
 thrown into the delightful current of his feelings; and 
 especially if you joined with the inquiry the puzzle about 
 the order of nature and the order of time : — he could only 
 tell you, that he had seen the love of God in Christ, and 
 that it had won and captivated his heart ; — that in Christ 
 he saw God as at once the God of grace and the God of 
 holiness ; and that he loved him for both, — for the grace 
 of his holiness, and for the holiness of his grace, — for 
 what He was in himself, and for what He had done for 
 sinners ! 
 
 Considering, as I do, the love of God as the grand 
 
 ESSENTIAL PRINCIPLE OF ALL MORALITY, I have devoted to 
 
 it the greater measure of attention. In next Lecture, 
 which will close the series, we shall see how this great 
 principle is brought into operation by the gospel, — and 
 what are the peculiarities to which the discoveries of the 
 gospel give rise, in the exercise both of this primary 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 235 
 
 principle and of the " second which is like unto it," the 
 love of our neighbour. We shall have occasion, in 
 illustrating these topics, to offer a few strictures on the 
 theory of virtue proposed and advocated by President 
 Edwards. 
 
LECTUEE IX. 
 
 ON THE PECULIARITIES OF CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 
 " I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God." — Rom. sii. 1. 
 
 In last Lecture, I had occasion to notice the sentiments 
 of the unrivalled theological metaphysician, Jonathan 
 Edwards, on the necessity of disinterestedness in our love 
 to God. I shall introduce the subject of the present 
 Lecture by a few strictures on his more general theory of 
 virtue ; a theory which the celebrity of its author entitled 
 to an earlier notice, but which could not have found a 
 place formerly, without, in some degree, anticipating other 
 topics. 
 
 According to Edwards, then, true virtue consists in 
 " benevolence to being in general." Such is his own expres- 
 sion : — " True virtue most essentially consists in benevo- 
 lence to being in general : — or, perhaps, to speak more 
 accurately, it is that consent, propensity, and union of 
 heart, to being in general, that is immediately exercised 
 in a general good-will." More at large : — " When I say, 
 true virtue consists in love to being in general, I shall not 
 be likely to be understood, that no one act of the mind, or 
 exercise of love, is of the nature of true virtue, but what 
 has being in general, or the great system of universal ex 
 istence, for its direct and immediate object; so that no 
 exercise of love, or kind affection towards any one parti cu- 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 237 
 
 lar being, that is but a small part of this whole, has any 
 thing of the nature of true virtue. But that the nature of 
 true virtue consists in a disposition to benevolence to- 
 wards being in general ; though from such a disposition 
 may arise exercises of love to particular beings, as objects 
 are presented and occasions arise. No wonder, that he 
 who is of a generally benevolent disposition should be 
 more disposed than another to have his heart moved with 
 benevolent affection to particular persons, whom he is 
 acquainted and conversant with, and from whom arise the 
 greatest and most frequent occasions for exciting his be- 
 nevolent temper. But my meaning is, that no affections 
 towards particular persons or beings are of the nature of 
 true virtue, but such as arise from a generally benevolent 
 temper, or from that habit or frame of mind wherein con- 
 sists a disposition to love being in general." Again, he 
 says : — " That temper, or disposition of heart, that con 
 sent, union, or propensity of mind to being in general — 
 is virtue truly so called ; or, in other words, true grace or 
 real holiness. And no other disposition or affection but 
 this is of the nature of true virtue."* 
 
 This benevolence to being, as might be supposed, is 
 altogether irrespective of character. Embracing all intel- 
 ligent and sentient existence, it is simple good-will, with 
 nothing in it of the nature of complacence : — " What I 
 would have observed at present is, that it must be allowed 
 benevolence doth not necessarily presuppose beauty in its 
 object. What is commonly called love of complacence 
 presupposes beauty. For it is no other than delight in 
 beauty, or complacence in the person or being beloved for 
 his beauty. If virtue be the beauty of an intelligent being, 
 and virtue consists in love, then it is a plain inconsistence 
 to suppose that virtue primarily consists in any love to its 
 object for its beauty, either in a love of complacence, which 
 
 * Diss, on the Nature of true Virtue. Chap. i. 
 f 
 
238 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 is a delight in a being for his beauty, or in a love of bene- 
 volence that has the beauty of its object for its foundation. 
 For that would be to suppose that the beauty of intelligent 
 beings primarily consists in love to beauty, or that their 
 virtue first of all consists in their love to virtue : — which is 
 an inconsistence, and going in a circle."* 
 
 This general affection, of benevolence to being uni- 
 versally, is parcelled out amongst individual beings, accord- 
 ing to the proportions of their respective degrees of exist- 
 ence: — " Pure benevolence, in its first exercise, is nothing 
 else but being's uniting consent, or propensity to being ; 
 appearing true and pure by its extending to being in 
 general, and inclining to the highest general good, and to 
 each being, whose welfare is consistent with the highest 
 general good, in proportion to the degree of existence, — 
 understand, other things being equal."f The " degree of 
 existence " is thus explained : — " I say, in proportion to 
 the degree of existence ; because one being may have more 
 existence than another, as he may be greater than another. 
 That which is great has more existence, and is further 
 from nothing, than that which is little. — An archangel 
 must be supposed to have more existence, and to be every- 
 where further removed from nonentity, than a worm."\ 
 
 " General entity " being thus the primary object of vir- 
 tuous affection or propensity, the second, according to the 
 theory, is " benevolent being ;" — in other words, " a second- 
 ary ground of pure benevolence is virtuous benevolence 
 itself in its object." "When any one under the influence 
 of general benevolence sees another being possessed of the 
 like general benevolence, this attaches his heart to him, 
 and draws forth greater love to him, than merely his hav- 
 ing existence. He looks on a benevolent propensity to 
 
 * Diss, on the Nature of true Virtue. Chap. i. 
 
 + Ibid. 
 
 X Ibid. Note to the preceding citation. 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 239 
 
 being in general, wherever he sees it, as the beauty of the 
 being in whom it is ; an excellency that renders him 
 worthy of esteem, complacence, and the greater good- 
 will."* — It is here, then, under this secondary ground of 
 benevolence, that any place is found for complacence or 
 moral esteem. I reserve remarks ; I only now state the 
 theory. 
 
 True virtue consisting in love to being in general ; it 
 follows, on the principles of the theory, and forms accord- 
 ingly one of its essential articles, that it must consist 
 chiefly in love to God. — This is founded both in the primary 
 and the secondary ground of benevolence. According to 
 the former, benevolence to being in general, regarding 
 individual beings in proportion to their respective degrees 
 of existence, — "it follows, as a necessary consequence, 
 that that Being who has the most of being, or the greatest 
 share of universal existence, has proportionably the great- 
 est share of virtuous benevolence:" — which necessarily 
 places the Divine Being, as "infinitely the greatest," and 
 having " infinitely the greatest share of existence," in- 
 finitely above every other being and all other being com- 
 bined, as the object of this benevolence. According to the 
 latter, — the love of benevolent being regarding its objects in 
 proportion to the measure of this benevolence, that is, of 
 spiritual beauty or moral excellency, apparent in their 
 respective characters : — God, being not only the greatest 
 of beings, but "infinitely the most beautiful and excel- 
 lent," so that " all the beauty throughout the whole creation 
 is but the reflexion of the diffused beams of that Being 
 who hath an infinite fulness of brightness and glory," — 
 " he that has true virtue, consisting in benevolence to 
 being in general, and in that complacence in virtue, or 
 moral beauty, and benevolence to virtuous being, must 
 necessarily have — a supreme love to God, both of benevo- 
 
 * Diss, on the Nature of time Virtue. Chap. i. 
 
240 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 lence and complacence. And all true virtue must, radi- 
 cally and essentially, and as it were summarily, consist in 
 this."'- 
 
 It would be foreign to the object of these Lectures, and 
 especially to the particular subject now before us, to enter 
 into the minuter details of this theory. It is with leading 
 and essential principles we have at present to do. I shall 
 say nothing of the characteristic tendency of the author's 
 mind to metaphysical abstraction, as indicated in his selec- 
 tion of phraseology ; the word being or entity " serving," as 
 has, I think with justice, been observed, " to give the 
 theory a mysterious outside, but . bringing with it from the 
 schools nothing except their obscurity."! Neither shall I 
 dwell on what the same authority designates his " really 
 unmeaning assertion, or assumption, that there are degrees 
 of existence;"! an assertion, which certainly wears the 
 aspect rather of a metaphysical pleasantry, or jeu d'esprit, 
 than of the seriously propounded basis of an ethical 
 system. "When we try such a phrase," says Sir James 
 Mackintosh, " by applying it to matters within the sphere 
 of our own experience, we see that it means nothing but 
 degrees of certain faculties and powers. "§ What more can 
 it mean ? Qualities, whether physical or intellectual, we 
 know to be susceptible of degrees. Their nature admits 
 of them ; every day's observation discovers them. But in 
 simple existence, the talk about them is a mere illusion. 
 Every thing that is — is, as much as every thing else that is : 
 — in the mere fact of being there cannot surely be any dis 
 tinction of more or less. Edwards's own explanation shows 
 this : — " That which is great has more existence, and is 
 farther from nothing, than that which is little. One being 
 may have every thing positive belonging to it, and every 
 
 * Diss, on the Nature of true Virtue. Chap. ii. 
 + Sir James Mackintosh's Prelim. Dissert, p. 341. 
 t Ibid. § Ibid. 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 241 
 
 thing which goes to its positive existence (in opposition to 
 defect) in a higher degree than another; or a greater 
 capacity and power, greater understanding, every faculty 
 and every positive quality, in a higher degree."* When 
 the statement is thus divested of its abstract peculiarity of 
 form, and being or existence is explained as comprehending 
 capacity, power, understanding, every faculty, and every 
 positive quality ; we cease, indeed, to be at any loss to find 
 room for degrees, but we are fain to smile (presumptuous 
 as to others it must seem, and as we feel it ourselves to be) 
 at the common-place simplicity into which what wore so 
 much of the garb of metaphysical abstraction has resolved 
 itself, — how shallow what seemed so deep ! Passing, how- 
 ever, from these things, I may be allowed, with all diffi- 
 dence, to observe — 
 
 In the first place : — according to the principles of this 
 theory, we must regard benevolence to being in general, as 
 forming the sum total of the character of Deity, or of what 
 Edwards (in terms more befitting philosophic speculation 
 than Christian devotion) denominates " God's virtue : " 
 the benevolence including, of course, amongst its objects, 
 Himself, as infinitely the greatest, because possessing in- 
 finitely the largest amount of being. But it certainly 
 requires an ingenuity and metaphysical refining, far be- 
 yond the plain simplicity of the Bible, to bring all the 
 attributes of the Divine character under the category of 
 benevolence. Righteousness and truth, for example, — how 
 can they be reduced under it, but by the operation of some 
 such scholastic process ? They are distinct from it in the 
 common sense of mankind ; they are distinct from it in all 
 the representations of Scripture. 
 
 Secondly: — With regard to the virtue of the creature; 
 we have seen on what grounds that benevolence to being 
 in which it is summed up is regarded as consisting chiefly 
 
 * Diss, on the Nature of true Virtue. Chap. i. Note. 
 
242 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 in love to God, — namely, that he is infinitely the greatest 
 and infinitely the best of beings, possessing infinitely the 
 largest amount of existence, and infinitely the largest 
 measure of moral excellence. The former of these is the 
 primary ground of virtuous disposition ; and the disposi- 
 tion, on that ground, having regard simply to being, not 
 to character, has in it nothing of the nature of complacence. 
 The love, therefore, of the creature to the Creator, in its 
 proper and primary exercise, has in it no complacence in 
 the Divine excellence, or moral beauty. And when, on 
 the secondary ground of virtuous disposition, complacence 
 does find a place, into what, after all, does it resolve itself? 
 It is nothing more than complacence in that very bene- 
 volence to being which is the sum of divine as well as of 
 human virtue. But what is complacence in this bene- 
 volence beyond the benevolence itself? Nothing: it is 
 only another exercise of the same principle. " Loving a 
 being on this ground," says Edwards himself, (meaning 
 the ground of " a benevolent propensity to being in 
 general, as the beauty of the being in whom it is," — ) 
 " loving a being on this ground necessarily arises from 
 pure benevolence to being in general, and comes to the 
 same thing;" so that, our very complacence in God is no 
 more than a modified operation of that benevolence to 
 being, in which, whether Deity or the creature be its object, 
 there is, according to the theory, no complacence. The 
 benevolence having regard, not to character, but simply to 
 being, so also ultimately, though not immediately, must 
 the complacence in that benevolence. 
 
 Thirdly : — The theory sets aside from among the virtues 
 all the more limited and peculiar social affections of our 
 nature, whether those of kindred, of friendship, or of 
 country. This is manifest. If it be so, that " no other 
 affection is of the nature of true virtue," besides the " pro- 
 pensity of mind to being in general," and that " no 
 affections towards particular persons or beings are of the 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 243 
 
 nature of true virtue but such as arise from a disposition 
 to love being in general," — it is a necessary sequence, that 
 in as far as the more private affections rest on grounds 
 which are at all more special and limited, they have 
 nothing in them of the nature of true virtue. But the 
 source of these affections is not benevolence to being in 
 general, nor is it the perception of such benevolence 
 existing in their objects : they are founded in the peculiar 
 relations of those objects to ourselves. What parent, or 
 what child, in giving delighted indulgence to the parental 
 or the filial affection, ever inquires whether in the object 
 of it there exists this love of universal being? or who 
 that observes, and delights in observing, their reciprocal 
 exercise, ever thinks of estimating the virtue that is in 
 them by such a test? — In thus excluding the private 
 affections from the catalogue of the virtues, the theory so 
 far symbolizes with the Godwinean system, by which all 
 these affections were, in like manner, merged in the one 
 equalizing sentiment of general philanthropy; — a system 
 which, while it outraged all the feelings of our nature, and 
 was contradicted in every man's bosom by the emotions of 
 every hour, contained at the same time a libel on the 
 wisdom of the " Only Wise," by whose kind appointment 
 it is that those affections are the strongest whose salutary 
 operation is most denned and concentrated, and most 
 immediately and urgently required ; which do not roam at 
 large over so vast a field as the unseen millions of our 
 species, or, still more inefficiently, lose themselves in the 
 infinite abstraction of universal being. Like every other 
 system that has speculated against the laws of nature, it 
 could not maintain its ground. 
 
 Fourthly: — The theory does not embrace in it, as 
 amongst the ingredients of love to God, the principle of 
 gratitude. Gratitude, we have formerly seen, is love to 
 God for what he is to us. — But this cannot be included in 
 benevolence to being in general ; and the exclusion of it is 
 
244 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 one of the great defects of the system; — a system which 
 owes its origin, perhaps, to no uncommon source of defec- 
 tive theory, the philosophic predilection for simplifying, 
 and reducing all virtue to some one disposition. There 
 may, indeed, have been another cause of the error; — 
 namely, that, since the primary principles of moral excel- 
 lence must be found in God, gratitude cannot be of the 
 number, — there being no possibility of its existence, in the 
 infinite Mind ; inasmuch as it would be blasphemy to 
 imagine any obligation to lie on Him who gives to all, and 
 receives from none, — the Fountain into which nothing 
 flows, but from which proceed all the streams of blessing 
 in the universe. " Who hath first given Him? and it shall 
 be recompensed unto him again." But to conclude from 
 this, that the love of gratitude towards God cannot belong 
 to the essence of virtue in the creature, would indicate a 
 strange inconsideration of a very simple principle, — the 
 principle, namely, that the great essential elements of 
 rectitude are necessarily modified by diversity of relative 
 condition.* There is a difference between the duties of a 
 
 * I have not altered this phrase, although my esteemed friend Dr. Payne 
 " submits to my consideration, whether it be not, on the whole, more expe- 
 dient, and more intelligible, to represent the difference between God and 
 man in relation to gratitude, as resulting from difference of relation, rather 
 than from a modification of the essential principles of rectitude," — a " phrase 
 which conveys no definite idea, and which numbers will misunderstand." 
 
 Whether the particular phrase he a perfectly happy and unexceptionable 
 one, I will not pretend to affirm. It was the one which first presented itself; 
 nor can I yet imagine thai any person who reads the verynext sentence, and 
 especially who reads to the end of the paragraph, can be, in the slightest 
 degree, at aloss about its meaning. That "the difference hetween God and 
 man, in relation to gratitude, results from difference of relation," is the very 
 thing which I have said. But surely it will not, by my friend Dr. P. or by any 
 one else be denied, that " the great essential elements of rectitude " assume 
 diversity in the modes of their exercise or practical development, corresponding to 
 diversity of relation. This is the sense, right or wrong, in which I have used 
 the word " modified," as the subsequent exemplifications of my meaning 
 clearly show ; particularly, fir instance, the phrase a few sentences down, 
 designed to be of identical import, that " the virtues of different relations are 
 modifications of these general principles" 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 2 1 5 
 
 parent and the duties of a child, and between the parental 
 and filial affections by which the respective duties are 
 dictated : — but both the one and the other are modifica- 
 tions of the same general elementary principles of moral 
 goodness. The same is the case, in the intercourse of 
 mankind, with regard to the benefactor and the recipient 
 of the benefit. Benevolence is the virtue of the one ; 
 gratitude the virtue of the other. It would be as unreason- 
 able to say that there is no virtue in gratitude because it 
 is not benevolence, as it would be to say — that there is no 
 virtue in benevolence because it is not gratitude. Each is 
 the peculiar modification of the general principles of 
 rectitude, appropriate to the relative position of the party 
 to whom it appertains. The principle of this simple 
 distinction is evidently applicable, with equal force, to the 
 relation between the Creator and the creature; — so that 
 that may be essentially virtuous in the creature which 
 cannot have any subsistence in the Creator ; because it 
 may be precisely that modification of the great principles 
 of rectitude which pertains to the relation of dependent 
 existence. Benevolence may thus be moral goodness in 
 the Creator, while gratitude, or a suitable return for that 
 benevolence, is moral goodness in the creature. It is on 
 this ground, — (the ground that the general principles of 
 rectitude are modified by difference of relative condition, 
 and consequently that the virtues of different relations are 
 modifications of these general principles) — it is on this 
 ground, that we can affirm obedience to the law of God to 
 have been perfect, although the individual subject of it has 
 not been placed in all the relations and conditions to 
 which its preceptive requirements extend. Were the 
 ground we have stated incorrect, this could not, in any 
 instance, be affirmed. We could not say that Adam's 
 obedience was perfect during the period of his innocence ; 
 nor could we with truth pronounce " the man Christ 
 Jesus" himself to have fulfilled the law, because there 
 
9.46 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 were many conditions and relations embraced in its com- 
 mands, in which he was not and could not be placed. But 
 we call that obedience to the law perfect, in which there is 
 a perfect spiritual conformity to its elementary principles 
 in the dispositions and conduct of the agent, in all the 
 departments in which he is called to think, or feel, or 
 speak, or act.* 
 
 Whilst on these and other grounds we conceive this 
 moral theory to be essentially faulty, it is with high and 
 unqualified approbation that we quote the following senti- 
 ments, which are in full harmony with the positions we 
 have formerly taken up; — only premising, that the love to 
 God, for which the place is so peremptorily claimed of the 
 foundation of all practical morals, must be understood as 
 comprehending, along with benevolence, or delight in the 
 divine happiness, complacence in the divine excellence, and 
 gratitude for the divine goodness : — " Hence it appears, 
 that those schemes of philosophy, which, however well 
 in some respects they may treat of benevolence to man- 
 kind, and other virtues depending on it, yet have not a 
 supreme regard to God and love to Him laid in the 
 foundation, and all other virtues handled in a connexion 
 with this, and in a subordination to this, are not true 
 schemes of philosophy, but are fundamentally and essen- 
 tially defective. And, whatever other benevolence, or 
 generosity towards mankind, and other virtues, or moral 
 qualifications, that go by that name, any are possessed of, 
 that are not attended with a love to God, which is alto- 
 gether above them, and to which they are subordinate, and 
 on which they are dependent, there is nothing of the 
 nature of true virtue or religion in them. And it may be 
 asserted in general, that nothing is of the nature of true 
 virtue, in which God is not the first and the last; or which, 
 with regard to their exercise in general, have not their first 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note T. 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 247 
 
 foundation and source in apprehensions of God's supreme 
 dignity and glory, and in answerable esteem and love of 
 Him, and have no respect to God as the supreme end." 
 
 In illustrating the practical influence of the gospel, and 
 the peculiarities of Christian obligation arising from its 
 discoveries, I shall begin with the bearing of those dis- 
 coveries on the generation and maintenance of this great 
 principle of love to God. But first allow me a remark or 
 two on the antipathy and contempt with which philoso- 
 phers have ever talked of faith, as the divinely recognized 
 spring of moral duty. Never was antipathy, never was 
 contempt, more unphilosophical. I am aware, indeed, of 
 the occasion that has been given for both, by the mysticism 
 in which the very term has too often been involved, — and 
 of which, as might have been anticipated, infidels have 
 not been slow to avail themselves, — laughing at faith as 
 something transcendental and inexplicable, possessed in 
 mysterious appropriation by the initiated, but which it 
 would be a kind of profanation to simplify. Yet nothing 
 is more simple than either its own nature or the nature of 
 its influence. Faith is no mysterious, abstract, undefinable 
 principle. The scriptural definition of it is " the belief of 
 the truth"* It invariably regards an object; so that there 
 can no more be faith without something believed, than 
 there can be love without something loved : — and the en- 
 tire influence of faith, as a practical principle, arises from 
 the nature and the felt importance of the truth believed. 
 This also is the simple scriptural account of the matter ; 
 — " When ye received the word of God which ye heard 
 from us, ye received it, not as the word of men, but (as it 
 is in truth) the word of God, which effectually worketh also 
 in you that believe." f It is in the truth believed that the 
 motives to holy practice are contained ; and these motives 
 are brought to bear upon the mind and upon the immedi- 
 
 * 2 Thess. ii. 13. +1 Thess. ii. 13. 
 
248 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 ate principles of action, when the evidence of the truth is 
 discerned, and it is "received in the love of it." Hence 
 the Apostle Paul says — " Faith worketh by love."* What 
 can be more simple ? Faith is the belief of the truth. The 
 truth believed is a testimony from God, which sets his 
 own character in the most amiable of all possible lights. 
 The belief of this testimony produces love to the Divine 
 subject of it; and this love operates in active obedience. 
 Where is the mystery of all this? Where is the ground 
 for the ridicule and satire of the soi-disant philosopher ? 
 The principle on which the power of faith proceeds is al- 
 together rational : — it is the principle, that a truth under- 
 stood and believed will produce effects corresponding to 
 its nature and to the circumstances of the persons believ- 
 ing it. It is from the nature, and native tendency of the 
 truth believed, that faith becomes the principle of charac- 
 ter: — so that the believer's being " sanctified by the truth,'" 
 and his heart being "purified by faith,'" are expressions 
 of equivalent import, f In this great article of Christian 
 Ethics, therefore, — namely, the necessity and the power of 
 faith, — there is nothing in the least degree beyond the 
 range of the most perfect simplicity. It is in accordance 
 with all the admitted phenomena in the constitution of the 
 human mind. Every one is aware of the influence of the 
 sentiments of the mind upon the affections and desires of 
 the heart, and, through them, upon the general character. 
 Fv«ry one is aware, also, of the proportion which this in- 
 fluence bears to the firmness with which the truth of the 
 sentiments is believed, and to the measure of value and 
 importance attached to them, — to the degree in which 
 they are seen to be true, and felt to be precious ; the nature 
 of the influence corresponding with the nature of the sen- 
 timent ; the degree of the influence with the strength of 
 the hold which the sentiment has upon the mind. To 
 
 * Gal. v. 6. + Comp. John xvii. 17, and Acts xv. 8, 9. 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 249 
 
 " live by faith," therefore, is not to live by a mystical ab- 
 straction, that defies reason, and is independent of evi- 
 dence ; it is to live under the habitual control of those 
 motives to trust and to obedience which the gospel doc- 
 trine, seen and felt to be truth, and truth divine, brings 
 to bear, in all their power of persuasive tenderness, upon 
 the mind. 
 
 In further illustrating what these motives are, — what 
 are the special considerations by which, in those circum- 
 stances of new and peculiar obligation in which the medi- 
 ation of Jesus Christ has placed our fallen world, the 
 principles and precepts of the Divine law are enforced on 
 human observance, — I must be allowed to proceed on the 
 same assumption as heretofore ; — namely, that the design 
 of the mission of the Son of God was by an atonement 
 for human guilt, — an atonement made by the sacrificial 
 substitution of himself in the room of the condemned, — 
 so to " declare God's righteousness," as that, in consis- 
 tency with the claims and the glory of this attribute of 
 the divine character and government, the mercy in which 
 Jehovah delights might have scope for its unrestrained 
 exercise in the extension of pardon and the bestowment 
 of life : — and at the same time, that in this doctrine of free 
 mercy to the guilty through an atoning and interceding 
 Mediator, an instrumental means might be provided, fitted 
 for winning back to God the wayward spirits of the rebel- 
 lious, and bringing them to new, and holy, and happy sub- 
 jection. These are the two great ends which the gospel 
 is designed to answer. Both are comprehended in its 
 being " the power of God unto salvation." And in effect- 
 ing both by one and the same means, Jehovah appears 
 acting in the moral as he does in the physical world, 
 where, with a similar economy of instrumental agency, he 
 often gives production from one cause to no small variety 
 of results. 
 
 Ever since the apostasy of man, God has been dealing 
 
Q50 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 with our world as a fallen world, in the exercise of sove- 
 reign mercy, through a Mediator ; and I can neither recede 
 from nor qualify my former statement, that, in such a 
 world, the very first thing required of its guilty inhabit- 
 ants, is submission to the Divine scheme of mercy. The 
 character of the race being that of sinfulness, and its state 
 that of guilt and condemnation, the peculiar constitution 
 under which it has been placed is a mediatorial adminis- 
 tration of grace ; and in these circumstances, the conse- 
 quence is unavoidable, that there can be no acceptable 
 obedience rendered to God, without the primary requisite 
 of an unconditional surrender of the mind and heart to 
 the principles and provisions of this divine constitution. 
 In this lies the grand distinction between the moral sys- 
 tem of the Bible, and the various theories of the wise men 
 of the world, by whom this constitution is not recognized. 
 On this point we dare not yield our ground ; we dare not 
 attempt a compromise. We could not do so, without re- 
 nouncing all that is peculiar in revelation. The gospel is 
 " the power of God unto salvation," as being the divinely 
 adapted method by which the guilty may be pardoned and 
 reinstated in favour, without any compromise of the glory 
 of his righteousness: — but it is more ; it is " the power of 
 God unto salvation," as being also the divinely devised 
 means for the purification of the sinful, — for restoring the 
 rational and immortal nature of man from its moral and 
 spiritual ruin, — for re-instamping upon it the lovely fea- 
 tures of the Divine likeness, and bringing it anew under 
 the sway of those principles which at once ruled and blessed 
 it while it " kept its first estate." If there be one end 
 which God purposes to effect by the mediation of his Son 
 more sublimely excellent than another, it is this, — the 
 recovery of man's nature to its pristine purity and love, 
 and so to its original honour and happiness. Pardon is 
 precious ; but, in a very important sense, pardon is but a 
 means to an end. It is itself, indeed, a part, and a most 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 251 
 
 essential and precious part, of salvation ; but it is subser- 
 vient to something still higher, even to sanctification. God 
 forgives sin ; but the end of the atonement has not been 
 fully answered when sin has been forgiven. God forgives 
 sin, that, by the grace displayed in its free and full re- 
 mission, the heart may be subdued and won to himself; 
 that it may be purified by the faith of the testimony which 
 reveals his mercy — " the word of reconciliation;" that its 
 enmity may be conquered, and that generous, grateful, 
 holy love may be implanted in its room. 
 
 It is evident, that if there be any one principle that 
 constitutes, in the sight of God, the elementary essence of 
 moral evil or spiritual degeneracy, to that principle must 
 the remedial means, whatever they are, be adapted and 
 applied. The object of the gospel is not to reform merely, 
 but to regenerate. It is not to produce a partial, or even 
 extensive alteration, in the doings and appearances of the 
 outer man ; it is to effect a radical change in the ruling 
 principles of the inner man. It is to give life to the dead ; 
 it is to create anew. The germinant principle of all moral 
 evil, we hesitate not to say, is alienation of heart from God. 
 Men may speculate without end on the principles of 
 morals ; but so long as they lose sight of this, as the real 
 character of fallen humanity, they are sadly astray from 
 truth. This enmity being the bitter fountain of all the 
 streams of evil, the grand object must be the rectification 
 of this fountain— the "healing" of this spring. Till this 
 is done, nothing is done ; when this is done, all is done. 
 This change on the inward principle and state of the 
 heart, in proportion as it is effected, will, of necessity, 
 rectify the entire constitution and character of the man, as 
 a moral agent. Now this is precisely what the gospel pro- 
 fesses to accomplish, and what, in hundreds of thousands 
 of instances, it has proved itself capable of effecting. It 
 aims at nothing less ; it can achieve nothing more. That 
 which " slays this enmity," and reconciles the heart to God 
 
252 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 in the exercise of a new and holy affection, does exactly 
 what man requires, and what is, at the same time, indis- 
 pensable to any radical and permanent change of character. 
 In vain we lop boughs, while the " root of bitterness " 
 remains. In vain we attempt to purify streams, while from 
 the fountain-head are still issuing the waters of pollution. 
 
 If love to God is the principle to be wrought in the 
 heart, it is clear that the doctrine which is the appointed 
 means of working it must contain such a manifestation of 
 God as is fitted to subdue enmity, and to reconcile the 
 alienated affections. It does not follow, however, that in 
 all cases in which this doctrine is made known, the happy 
 consequence must ensue. The doctrine may be fitted, — 
 eminently, nay even perfectly fitted, for its end ; and yet, 
 instead of the end being effected, the very opposite of it 
 may be the unhappy result. The proper tendency of " the 
 goodness of God " is to lead the partakers of it " to repent- 
 ance ;" but alas ! how often, " after their hardness and im- 
 penitent heart," do men " despise the riches of his good- 
 ness, and forbearance, and long-suffering," and " treasure 
 up to themselves wrath against the day of wrath ! " As 
 moral means, from their very nature, can never be compul- 
 sory, they may be admirably adapted for effectuating certain 
 moral changes, while yet, in many instances, the only 
 effect resulting from their application is to manifest by 
 trial the force of the principles of resistance, the obstinacy 
 of high-minded pride, the determined self-will of corrupt 
 propensities. It is not by the law only, but by the gospel 
 too, that "sin takes occasion" to work in the perverse 
 spirit of man " all manner of lawless desire." 
 
 It is on the amiable character of the Divine Being, as it 
 is manifested in the gospel, that the apostolic appeals are 
 founded, in those parts of their writings in which they 
 apply divine truths to their practical ends, and stir up the 
 believers to alacrity and perseverance in duty. The text 
 of this Discourse affords an exemplification of their general 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 253 
 
 style on such occasions : — " I beseech you, therefore, 
 brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your 
 bodies" (that is, your persons) " a living sacrifice, holy, 
 acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service." 
 Under a beautiful allusion to the sacrificial rites of the 
 Jewish ceremonial, the appropriateness of which we cannot 
 at present trace out in detail either in its points of parallel- 
 ism or of contrast, the general duty is here enjoined of the 
 unreserved consecration of our whole persons, — of all our 
 corporeal and mental powers, — to the living, and active, 
 and self-denying service of the God of our salvation. And 
 what is the motive by which the duty is urged ? "I be- 
 seech you by the mercies of God." The mercies of God 
 are the compassions of his nature,* as displayed towards 
 sinners in the mission and work of his Son, and in the 
 bestowment, through him, of all the precious blessings of 
 redemption. To those who " know the grace of God in 
 truth," the appeal cannot be addressed, without awakening 
 in their bosoms the emotions of conscious shame and of 
 thrilling gratitude ; of shame, that these " mercies," thus 
 wonderfully displayed, should have been so unduly ap- 
 preciated, so lightly felt, so inadequately returned ; — of 
 gratitude, for the discovery and experience of their 
 exercise towards creatures so unworthy, so much worse 
 than unworthy, so deserving of his "indignation and 
 wrath." The appeal is the most persuasive that can 
 be addressed to the renewed mind. It is not made 
 to the mere selfish apprehension of coming vengeance, 
 — a sentiment which may generate a profusion of ex- 
 ternal observance, but can inspire no attachment of 
 heart, no willing and holy subjection ; it is made to the 
 generous and noble principle of grateful filial affection, — 
 
 * Not gifts or blessings, — a sense in which we are accustomed to use the 
 ■word " mercies," — and in which the English reader might here understand 
 it. The original word is OIKTIPMilN. 
 
Q54 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 the affection of a heart that has experienced kindness, and 
 that feels and returns it, — an affection that is, at the same 
 time, associated and blended with a devout delight in the 
 entire character of that great and gracious Being, whom 
 " the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the 
 Father, hath declared." To a- right-hearted child, it is not 
 the apprehension of the rod, the mere dread of punish- 
 ment, that most powerfully restrains from disobedience ; 
 it is the thought of his fathers love, — of violating the obli- 
 gation, so tenderly felt, which that love imposes, — of en- 
 gendering a sentiment of displeasure in a heart so kind, 
 and of which the affection is so highly prized, — of waking 
 an emotion of sorrow, of inflicting one pang of anguish, in 
 a bosom so tender and so fond. Thus it is with the re- 
 newed sinner — the child of God. " The mercies of God," 
 now his heavenly Father, are his wonder and his joy. His 
 love is his chief delight. He could not live without it. 
 It is not so much the thought of God's punitive vengeance 
 that restrains him from evil ; it is the " remembrance of 
 his mercy," — the recollection of his love, — his free, disin- 
 terested, generous, holy, infinite, and everlasting love, — 
 the love manifested in the " unspeakable gift" of his Son. 
 When he is tempted to the indulgence of any prohibited 
 desire, the thought of that love lays under arrest the rebel 
 lust, and nails it to the cross. When his lips are opened 
 for the utterance, or his hand stretched forth for the per- 
 petration, of evil, the recollection of " the mercies of 
 God" startles and wakes to jealousy his spiritual sensi- 
 bilities, draws to his eye the tear of grief and shame, shuts 
 the lips, and stays the hand. Oh ! how little do they under- 
 stand of the gospel, — of the revelation of the redeeming 
 love of God, — of the tidings of mercy to sinners through a 
 Divine Mediator, — who impute to it a tendency to dissolve, 
 or even to relax, the bonds of moral obligation. They 
 speak in ignorance. They " understand neither what they 
 say, nor whereof they affirm." They discover equally 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 255 
 
 little acquaintance with the nature of the gospel, and with 
 the constitution of the human mind. As soon will filial 
 love, engendered by parental tenderness, and associated 
 with esteem of parental excellence, show itself in indif- 
 ference and contumely, in the studied frustration of 
 parental wishes, and the contumacious spurning of the 
 parental yoke. As soon will gratitude to a benefactor 
 instigate him who feels and cherishes it to defamation, and 
 outrage, and murder. That the grace of the gospel may 
 be misunderstood, — that it may be perverted to the worst of 
 purposes, to the establishment of principles the most licen- 
 tious, and the vindication of courses the most abandoned, 
 I am far from denying. What is there that is beyond the 
 reach of perversion by " hearts deceitful above all things, 
 and desperately wicked "? The semblance and profession 
 of filial love itself may be assumed in hypocritical villany, 
 for the nefarious purposes of a cold-blooded selfishness. 
 But who ever thinks of alleging, because such a case is 
 possible, or has actually been exemplified, that this is the 
 natural and appropriate tendency of parental kindness, or 
 that such is the legitimate operation of the filial affection 
 by which it is returned? The exception is not the rule. 
 The very wonder and horror which the occurrence of such 
 an exception inspires, most impressively evince, what, 
 according to the universal sentiments and feelings of man- 
 kind, are the natural tendencies of parental kindness, and 
 what the expected indications of filial love. 
 
 What should be our emotions, were we, at any time, to 
 discover, that the man whom we had been regarding as 
 our bitter enemy, keeping aloof from him and treating 
 him as such, opposing his will, thwarting his purposes, 
 traducing his reputation, injuring his interests, wronging 
 and wounding him with an inventive ingenuity of mis- 
 chief, — that this man has all the while been acting the 
 part of our best friend, — that, wdiile we were misconceiving 
 his principles and misconstruing his conduct, he has been 
 
250 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 unwearied in the exercise of his kindness, devising plans 
 for our happiness, consulting and studying our interests at 
 the expense of his own, relinquishing good and encounter- 
 ing evil for our sake ? What a pang of intolerable 
 anguish would the discovery send through our hearts ! — 
 what shame! — what self-loathing! — what eagerness of 
 solicitude to compensate for the past, and to attest the 
 sincerity of our penitence hy the unremitting devotedness 
 of self-denied activity in the service of him whom w r e have 
 wronged ! Similar in nature, though heavier in pressure 
 and keener in agony, are the feelings of a sinner, when 
 first, hy the illumination of the Divine Spirit, he discerns 
 the true character of the Being against whom he has all 
 along been trespassing, — whom he has regarded with the 
 feelings only of jealousy and suspicion, of distrust, and 
 fear, and aversion, — as all sternness and repulsiveness, — 
 an implacable foe, with the frown of wrath upon his brow, 
 the threat of damnation upon his lips, and the thunder- 
 bolt of vengeance in his hand ; — when, through the 
 medium of the cross, he sees into the heart of God, and 
 discovers what an infinitude of love is there ; — when, 
 instead of an incensed and ruthless enemy, he beholds 
 the best and kindest of friends, whose very nature is love, 
 whose very delight is in mercy, who is " not willing that 
 any should perish, but that all should come to repentance." 
 This is the discovery that melts the heart to contrite 
 sorrow. Holiness awes ; justice alarms ; love subdues. 
 0, the pangs that wring the awakened sinner's soul when 
 he finds that he has all his life long been sinning against 
 infinite love ; that his hard and jealous thoughts of the 
 Most High have been as false as they have been wicked, — 
 the very opposite of truth, the foul calumnies of the 
 father of lies ! He " abhors himself, and repents in dust 
 and ashes." The heart of stone becomes a heart of flesh ; 
 and " the mercies of God," disclosed to his mind by the 
 Holy Spirit, laying him under obligations never felt 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. ^57 
 
 before, he loathes sin as hateful and dishonouring to the 
 God of mercy, and as having filled to the brim the cup of 
 the Saviour's agony. On all the powers of his body and 
 faculties of his soul, — on all he is, and on all he has, with 
 full heart and melting eye, — he inscribes " Holiness unto the 
 Lord; " — and from that time forward, the authority of God 
 is his rule, the grace of God his motive, the glory of God 
 his end, and the blessing of God his portion. " Whether 
 he lives, he lives to the Lord ; and whether he dies, he dies 
 to the Lord ; living and dying he is the Lord's." 
 
 It is thus that " faith worketh by love." When the 
 divine character, as revealed in the gospel, becomes the 
 object of belief, it becomes at the same time the object of 
 affection. Holy love from God to man is what the gospel 
 reveals ; holy love from man to God is what the gospel 
 inspires. Faith begets love, and love obedience. Love is 
 the immediate impulse to action, the main-spring of the 
 moral machinery ; — faith, or the " belief of the truth," is 
 what maintains its elasticity and force. Love is the vital 
 energy of the living frame ; the truth, received by faith, is 
 the food by which that vital energy is kept in active and 
 efficient vigour. 
 
 We have formerly seen, that the two great principles of 
 the divine law, as given to men, are, the love of God, and 
 the love of our neighbour ; — and that there are the strong- 
 est grounds for believing, that these, substantially, are the 
 principles of morals throughout the universe : — that in all 
 worlds, love to the Creator and love to fellow-creatures 
 constitute the " fulfilling of the law." These two compre- 
 hensive principles, however, have been subjected to special 
 modifications by the circumstances of peculiarity, in which, 
 under the gracious administration of God, the gospel has 
 placed our fallen world. We conceive, that, throughout 
 the universe of intelligent being, there must exist a general 
 manifestation of Deity, in the purity and benevolence of 
 his character : — such a manifestation being obviously 
 i. s 
 
258 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 indispensable, as the foundation either of the love of com- 
 placence, or the love of gratitude. The former cannot be 
 felt towards an " unknown God ; " nor the latter towards a 
 God of whose goodness there is no experience. But of 
 this manifestation there may be various kinds and various 
 degrees. In no two worlds may it be precisely alike ; 
 and the diversity of the manifestation may give rise, in 
 every world, to its own modified variety of obliga- 
 tion, and to its own peculiarity of complacence and 
 of gratitude. To our world, according to the discoveries 
 of the gospel, the Universal Ruler stands in a special 
 relation, — a relation corresponding to our fallen condition 
 and character, of the highest grandeur and the deepest 
 interest, — the relation of the God of grace, the God of 
 salvation. The moral philosophy of the universe, (if I 
 may be allowed so bold an expression,) rests on the mani- 
 festation to the universe of the existence, and character, 
 and will of the Universal Governor; — and in the general 
 principles of this philosophy our own world is compre- 
 hended. In the existence of God we have the universal 
 foundation of morals; in the character of God, the universal 
 principles of morals ; in the will of God, the universal law 
 of morals. But just as, within the limits of our own world 
 itself, while there are great general moral principles which 
 bind alike all the millions of its population, there are, at 
 the same time, peculiarities of obligation arising from an 
 endless variety of relations, both national and domestic ; 
 so, in the universe, while the countless myriads of its in- 
 telligent inhabitants may all, with a sublime simplicity, be 
 regarded as, in like manner, bound by the same principles, 
 the principles of love to their Creator and love to their 
 fellow creatures ; — yet in each of its unnumbered worlds, 
 there may subsist, from original constitution, or from 
 subsequent events, peculiarities of its own, by which it is 
 distinguished from all the rest. If, with respect to others, 
 this be supposition only, we know that, with respect to our 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. '259 
 
 own, it is fact. As an apostate province of the universal 
 empire, under an administration of mediatorial mercy, its 
 condition and its obligations are alike peculiar; — so that, 
 were the moral philosophy of the universe ever so cor- 
 rectly illustrated, the moral philosophy of our own world 
 must be miserably defective and erroneous, if the wonder- 
 ful specialities of its condition, and of the divine relations 
 to it in the mystery of redeeming grace, are not rightly 
 understood, and duly estimated. As the God of salvation, 
 the Father of all has given us, in the mediatorial work of 
 his Son, a manifestation of his character, in its full perfec 
 tion of attractive loveliness, combining the unsullied purity 
 of its holiness and the infinite generosity of its benevolence. 
 Our love of moral esteem, therefore, and our love of grati- 
 tude, ought, both the one and the other, to bear proportion 
 to this special manifestation. Our complacence is not 
 complacence in God's general loveliness only, but in the 
 peculiar aspect of that loveliness as it appears " in the face 
 of Jesus Christ :" — our gratitude is not gratitude for those 
 fruits alone of the divine goodness which we share with 
 all, but for the special and appropriate blessings of his 
 saving grace ; — it is the gratitude, not of creatures merely, 
 as debtors to Providence, — but of redeemed sinners, as 
 debtors to mercy. This is the gratitude that is specially 
 due to God in our apostate world, — without which, among 
 those to whom the tidings of his mercy come, no other 
 gratitude, in whatever terms professed, can be genuine or 
 acceptable ; the refusal or the acceptance of the proffered 
 mercy being the test of continued or relinquished aliena- 
 tion of heart. 
 
 By the constitution of the scheme of redemption, it may 
 further be observed, there have been introduced modifica- 
 tions of the general principle of love to God, corresponding 
 to the parts which the persons in the ever-blessed Trinity 
 are represented as respectively fulfilling in that scheme. 
 There is love to the Father, for " not sparing his own 
 
200 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 Son:" — there is love to the Son, for the grace that induced 
 him, " though he was rich, for our sakes to become poor, 
 that we through his poverty might be made rich:" — and 
 there is love to the Holy Spirit, as the gracious agent in 
 the discovery to the mind, and application to the heart, of 
 the love of the Father, and the grace of the Son, — as the 
 regenerator of sinners, and the purifier, and comforter, 
 and preserver of believers. These distinctions belong 
 essentially to the principles of Christian Ethics. The 
 affections, however, are not distinct, in any such sense as 
 to admit of one of them being in exercise without the 
 others. The Father cannot be loved without the Son, nor 
 the Son without the Father, nor the Father and the Son 
 without the Spirit. Neither are they affections that at all 
 interfere with each other, so as that augmented intensity 
 in one must be accompanied with a corresponding abate- 
 ment in another. They are, on the contrary, necessarily 
 proportionals to each other; so that, instead of one cooling 
 as another warms, the temperature of each is the tempe- 
 rature of all. The love of the Father, the love of the Son, 
 •and the love of the Spirit, towards us, are the united love 
 of the one Godhead, necessarily and eternally equal : — of 
 this love the scheme of redemption is the joint result 
 and manifestation : — and the love with which it is returned 
 is a joint, and equal gratitude, the same in measure and in 
 operation, 
 
 '• To Father, Bon, and Holy Ghost, 
 The God whom Ave adore !" 
 
 Besides the peculiarities of obligation and exercise, 
 which are thus, by the special administration under which 
 our world is placed, introduced into the first of the two 
 great principles of the law, — the love of God ; there are 
 also peculiarities, originating from the same cause, in 
 reference to the second, — the love of our neighbour. The 
 law which enjoins us to ' ; love our neighbour as ourselves," 
 is certainly to be interpreted as comprehending all the 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 26 
 
 circumstances in which our neighbours can be placed: — 
 but there is one character, of paramount interest, in which 
 the gospel teaches us to regard mankind; — I mean the 
 character of fellow-sinners, involved in the same guilt and 
 ruin with ourselves, and standing in need of the i 
 salvation. It is in this "low estate" that the eye of God 
 has "looked upon" our race, and that the "mercy Which 
 endureth for ever" hath visited us. It is in this " low 
 estate," therefore, that every believer of the gospel will 
 most especially regard his fellow-men; and it is to their 
 deliverance from it that he will direct, with the tonderest 
 pity and the most ardent zeal, the efforts of his benevolence. 
 He will co-operate with the providence of God in pro- 
 moting, by every means in his power, their temporal 
 benefit; but with earnestness peculiarly intense will he 
 co-operate with the grace of God in seeking their ever- 
 lasting good. Christian benevolence must, in this respect, 
 be formed upon the pattern of the Divine. It is on man- 
 kind as sinners, that divine benevolence has expended its 
 chief resources. Their salvation has been the grand 
 problem of infinite wisdom, — the grand manifestation of 
 infinite love. The benevolence that negligently overlooks, 
 or scornfully disregards, this greatest of ends, is not of 
 God. The mind in which it lodges is not in unison with 
 the Divine. In the heart that has received the gospel, the 
 love to man which the law enjoins will contemplate the 
 guilt and misery in which the gospel finds him, and will 
 seek, as its first aim, to put him in possession of the 
 pardon and the blessedness which the gospel provides for 
 him. The gospel, as the interpreter of the law, will 
 stimulate to all possible efforts for the diffusion of its own 
 saving truths; and the grand field of Christian philan- 
 thropy will be "the world lying in the wicked one." Under 
 its illumination and influence, love to our neighbour, while 
 far from being indifferent to his temporal well-being, will 
 especially take into its account of duty the whole extent of 
 
262 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 his immortal existence : — for the henevolence that confines 
 itself to the body and to time, while it overlooks the soul 
 and eternity, is infinitely more unreasonable, towards man 
 contemplated in his complex nature and in the immortality 
 of his being, than the kindness which, with regard to the 
 body, would busy itself, with all the promptitude and 
 assiduity of concern, in carefully binding up a wounded 
 finger, while it left a virulent and deadly distemper to prey 
 upon the vitals with unheeded, unmitigated, and fatal fury. 
 There is, moreover, a peculiar love, to the requisition of 
 which no attentive reader of the New Testament can be a 
 stranger. It may be regarded as a branch of the general 
 principle ; but while it is more limited in the range of its 
 objects, it differs also, in some respects, and that essen- 
 tially, in its nature. It is the love that unites the members 
 of "the household of faith," — the joint partakers of the 
 regenerating grace of the Spirit, — the " children of God by 
 faith in Christ Jesus : "■ — it is the natural affection (if I may 
 so express myself) of the spiritual family of God. " He who 
 loveth him that begat, loveth them also that are begotten 
 of him." This is a very different principle from the 
 benevolence, or love of general good will, which compre- 
 hends all mankind. It is love for God's sake, whose 
 children its objects are, and whose image they bear ; it is 
 love for Christ's sake, the Divine Author of their common 
 salvation ; it is love " for the truth's sake," the ground of 
 their hopes, the source of their joys, the charter of their 
 privileges, the bond of their union. It is love that includes 
 the feeling of complacence as well as that of good-will. 
 Of this description of love a great deal is said in the New 
 Testament : — and into not a few mistakes have interpreters 
 fallen, — mistakes which have thrown obscurity upon the 
 meaning, and introduced confusion and weakness into the 
 reasoning, of the inspired penmen, — from their not duly 
 distinguishing between this peculiar affection and the more 
 general principle of good-will to men, — and from their 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 263 
 
 explaining passages as if they related to the latter that are 
 evidently and exclusively applicable to the former. It is 
 perfectly true, that no man can be a disciple of Christ 
 without general benevolence, — the benevolence that wishes 
 and seeks the good of all: — but the love so often spoken 
 of under the designation of " the love of the brethren " is 
 evidently, from its nature, by much the surer, the more 
 appropriate, and the more distinctive test of discipleship. 
 It is of this the Saviour himself speaks, when he says, " A 
 new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one 
 another ; even as I have loved you, that ye also love one 
 another. By this shall all men know that ye are my 
 disciples, if ye have love one to another."* It is to this 
 too the Apostle John refers, when he is distinguishing the 
 children of God from the children of the wicked one : — 
 "We know that we have passed from death unto life, 
 because we love the brethren : " — " let us not love in word, 
 neither in tongue, but in deed and in truth : and hereby 
 we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our 
 hearts before him."f — To interpret such passages of 
 general benevolence, is obviously to deprive them of more 
 than half their point and conclusiveness. Although there 
 can be no properly principled benevolence that is not 
 founded in devotion, — yet there is sometimes to be seen, 
 even where there is no vestige of this sacred principle, so 
 much of the gifts and doings of philanthropy, — gifts and 
 doings of no ordinary generosity and self-denial, — that 
 general benevolence cannot, in the nature of things, be so 
 distinctive a criterion of true discipleship as the peculiar 
 love which has for its objects the brethren of Christ, the 
 children of God, and which " delights " in them as the 
 " excellent of the earth." — It is of the same special love 
 that Jesus speaks in describing those works by which, as 
 the Supreme Judge, he will distinguish his own people, — 
 
 * John xiii. 31, 35. + 1 John iii. 14, 18, 19. 
 
•>!(H PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 the "blessed of his Father," in the great day. The works 
 specified by him are not works of general benevolence, and 
 ought not to be confounded with them : — they are works 
 of which he says, " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one 
 of the least of these my brethren" — (pointing to the 
 redeemed multitude on his right hand,) "ye did it unto 
 me." They are works, then, done from love to his people, 
 and consequently from love to himself ; — and this love 
 implies and pre-supposes the knowledge and the faith of 
 that testimony in which his character and his grace are 
 revealed to men. 9 
 
 The design of this series of Lectures has been to 
 illustrate and establish general principles. To enter into 
 the minuter details of Christian morals, and to discuss the 
 questions of casuistry to which, either in themselves or in 
 the terms in which they are conveyed, the preceptive 
 injunctions of the Christian Eecord have given rise, has 
 not been within the range of subject contemplated by me 
 at the outset. At this, some may be disappointed. I 
 cannot help it. I was satisfied that the field of general 
 principles was of quite sufficient extent for the prescribed 
 series ; — and it was errors, as they seemed to me, in regard 
 to general principles, that I was most anxious to point out 
 and to correct. With what success this has been done 
 others must determine. — Neither has it formed part of my 
 .plan, to consider the important question of the identity of 
 Old and New Testament morality : — between which, in my 
 apprehension, there has often been conceived to exist 
 a much wider difference than any reasonable principle 
 could have led us to anticipate, or than Scripture, fairly 
 interpreted, warrants us to believe. Great injustice, as it 
 appears to me, has, in this particular, been done to the 
 Old Testament Scriptures. But it is a subject, however 
 important and interesting, of too large extent, and 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 205 
 
 involving too many points of " doubtful disputation, 1 ' to 
 admit of my so much as touching it. 
 
 I must hasten to a conclusion, resisting the temptation 
 to linger on these and other topics. There is a perfect 
 harmony between the law and the gospel. The latter, 
 instead of " making void " the former, establishes it ; 
 assuming, proving, and illustrating, its immaculate and 
 immutable perfection. It was the transgression of the law 
 that rendered the provisions of the gospel necessary for 
 the recovery of the transgressor, — his recovery to the 
 forfeited favour and the lost image of his God. And what 
 are those provisions ? They are such as " magnify the law 
 and make it honourable." The righteousness of Jesus 
 fulfils its demands, and his atonement exhausts its sanc- 
 tion ; so that both its demands and its sanction are 
 recognized as divine. And while, in the ground of the 
 sinner's justification, the law is thus honoured, — thus 
 maintained in all the fulness of its authority; — it is not 
 less honoured in the spiritual change which, by the gospel 
 instrumentally, and by the Spirit of God efficiently, is 
 produced in the sinner's character. For in what does this 
 change consist ? Is it not in his having " the law written 
 in his heart, and put in his inward parts ? " What is there 
 higher or better which the gospel can effect for man, than 
 bringing back his sinful nature to spiritual conformity with 
 the great principles of the law? By effecting this, it 
 restores him at once to the purity, the glory, and the 
 felicity, of his original nature. 
 
 The gospel is the Divine method for man's recovery : — 
 and, whatever the wise men of this world, in the plenitude 
 of their philosophical loftiness, may think or say respecting 
 it, it has been found hitherto, and it will be found hence- 
 forward, that "the foolishness of God is wiser than men, 
 and the weakness of God stronger than men." — " After 
 that, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom knew not 
 
266 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 God, it pleased God, by the preaching of foolishness, to 
 save them that believe." In the moral revolutions which 
 it effected on characters of all descriptions, the gospel 
 proved itself, before the very eyes of men, to be "the 
 power of God unto salvation." The salvation wrought by 
 it was not a thing secret and future ; — it was present and 
 visible. The preachers of the cross could point to the 
 many trophies of its power ; and enumerating all the 
 varieties of unrighteous, impure, and profligate character, 
 could say — " Such were some of you ; but ye are washed, 
 but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified, in the name of 
 the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God:" — "Ye 
 were the servants of sin ; but ye have from the heart 
 obeyed that new Master to whom ye were delivered over : " 
 — " Ye were once darkness, but now are ye light in the 
 Lord; walk as children of light." 
 
 And the " foolishness " of the cross is still the destined 
 means by which the progressive regeneration of the world 
 is to be effected. What has philosophy done ? Where 
 are her triumphs ? Where her trophies ? Where the 
 hearts she has renewed ? Where the characters that have 
 experienced her converting and transforming power? 
 Where are the tribes which she has " turned from darkness 
 unto light, and from the power of Satan unto God ? " 
 Her conquests are all prospective ; her triumphs all 
 promissory; her vauntings all of what is yet to be done. 
 To no one thing more appropriately and emphatically than 
 to the boastings of human philosophy, is the poet's line 
 applicable — 
 
 "Man never is, but always to he blest." 
 
 But the gospel can point to the past as well as to the 
 future. It has done much : — and it is not to its shame, 
 but to the shame of its professed believers, that its achieve- 
 ments have as yet been so limited. Had Christians felt as 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 267 
 
 they ought their obligations to the God of grace, they 
 would have done more, and given more, and prayed more ; 
 — yes, much more : — and "the word of the Lord would 
 have run " faster and further, and have been more abun- 
 dantly " glorified." Even as it is, — wherever the gospel 
 makes its way, — wherever the word of the Lord takes 
 effect, it shows itself, as it did of old, to be still " the power 
 of God unto salvation." It can still point everywhere to 
 the subjects of its subduing and regenerating influence. 
 It can point to hearts of which the enmity has been slain, 
 and which have been devoted, in holy consecration, to 
 God, — "hearts of stone" that have become "hearts of 
 flesh ;" it can point to the licentious, whose vileness has 
 been purified ; to the cruel, whose ferocity has been 
 tamed ; to blasphemers, that have learned to pray ; to 
 drunkards, now noted for sobriety ; to liars, that are men 
 of truth, and thieves, that " restore fourfold ;" to the proud, 
 humbled to the " meekness and gentleness of Christ ; " to 
 oppressors, that have laid aside their "rod of iron," and 
 " broken every yoke ;" to extortioners, that have ceased to 
 " grind the faces of the poor," and are distinguished for 
 justice and generosity ; — to sinners of every description and 
 of every grade, that have relinquished the ways of evil, and 
 are "living soberly, righteously, and godly." In the 
 heathen world, idolatry, with all its attendant fooleries, 
 impurities, atrocities, and bacchanalian revelries, gives way 
 before it; " the gods that have not made the heavens and 
 the earth perish from off the earth and from under those 
 heavens;" and "Jehovah, the true God, the living God, 
 and the everlasting King," is reinstated in the honour and 
 the worship which are his exclusive due — "One God, and 
 his Name One." The reception of the Divine mercy is 
 accompanied with willing subjection to the Divine 
 authority. The gospel and the law go hand in hand. 
 When the convictions of the law have induced the accept- 
 ance of the gospel, the grace of the gospel endears the 
 
268 TECULIAEITIES OF 
 
 precepts of the law, which are then regarded, not merely 
 as the commands of authority, but as the requirements of 
 love, the intimations of the will of the God of mercy. As 
 the reign of Christ extends, the law of love prevails, — of 
 love to God, and love to men ; and " righteousness, and 
 peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost," are the blessed results. 
 It is by the progressive extension of the saving power of 
 the gospel, and the widening prevalence of the principles 
 of the Redeemer's reign, among men of " every kindred and 
 tongue and people and nation," — that those " scenes such 
 as earth saw never," — those scenes of millennial glory which 
 the prophetic word foretells, are to be realized in this our 
 apostate world. And when those scenes shall have lasted 
 their predicted time, — " then cometh the end ;" when the 
 mediatorial kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ, a temporary branch of the great general adminis- 
 tration of the Divine government, having answered all the 
 glorious and happy ends of its institutions, shall be 
 " delivered up to God, even the Father," — resigned by 
 Him who has swayed with perfect and illustrious success 
 the sceptre of his delegated reign, — " that the Godhead 
 may be all in all !" Then, in heaven, shall be summed up 
 for ever the grand moral purposes of the plan of mercy. 
 When, at the resurrection of the just, " this corruptible 
 shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have 
 put on immortality, an/i death shall have been swallowed 
 up in victory," the multitude of the "redeemed from 
 among men " shall enter on the full fruition of the purity 
 and the joy of eternity. The character of Deity, as 
 " Light" and "Love," shall be gloriously apparent in the 
 holy and happy result. Those eternal principles of recti- 
 tude, which subsisted in the nature of the Divine Being 
 before creation commenced, which were the features of the 
 image in which man was formed, and of which the violation 
 and abandonment were his dishonour and his ruin, shall be 
 restored to their paramount authority and legitimate 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 269 
 
 operation. The light and love of the Godhead shall find a 
 mirror in every bosom : — and in the perfection of know- 
 ledge, purity, benevolence, and joy, the blessed inhabitants 
 shall realize what their faith had believed, their hope had 
 anticipated, and their imagination had tried to picture, but 
 what, in experience, will be found to transcend, by infinite 
 degrees, their loftiest and most enlarged conceptions, — the 
 happiness of a sinless world ! 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTBATIONS. 
 
 Note A. Page 6. 
 
 On the tendencies of science in relation to piety. — WheweWs Bridgeivater 
 Treatise. 
 
 On the subject of the piety of men of science, the Rev. Mr. 
 Whewell, in his Bridgewater Treatise, a most interesting and valu- 
 able work, writes as follows : — " The opinion illustrated in the last 
 chapter, that the advances which men make in science tend to im- 
 press upon them the reality of the Divine government of the world, 
 has often been controverted. Complaints have been made, and espe- 
 cially of late years, that the growth of piety has not always been 
 commensurate with the growth of knowledge, in the minds of those 
 who make nature their study. Views of an irreligious character 
 have been entertained, it is sometimes said, by persons eminently 
 well-instructed in all the discoveries of modern times, no less than 
 by the superficial and ignorant. Those who have been supposed 
 to deny, or to doubt the existence, the providence, the attributes of 
 God, have in many cases been men of considerable eminence and 
 celebrity for their attainments in science. The opinion that this 
 is the case appears to be extensively diffused ; and this persuasion 
 has probably often produced inquietude and grief in the breasts 
 of pious and benevolent men. 
 
 " This opinion, concerning the want of religious convictions 
 among those who have made natural philosophy their leading pur- 
 suit, has probably gone far beyond the limits of the real fact. 
 But, if we allow that there are any strong cases to countenance such 
 an opinion, it may be worth our while to consider how far they 
 admit of any satisfactory explanation. The fact appears at first 
 sight to be at variance with the view we have given of the im» 
 
27^ NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 prcssion produced by scientific discovery ; and it is, moreover, 
 always a matter of uneasiness and regret, to have men of eminent 
 talents and knowledge opposed to doctrines which we consider as 
 important truths. 
 
 " We conceive that an explanation of such cases, if they should 
 occur, may be found in a very curious and important circumstance 
 belonging to the process by which our physical sciences are formed. 
 The first discovery of new general truths, and the development of 
 these truths when once obtained, are two operations extremely dif- 
 ferent — imply different mental habits, and may easily be associated 
 with different views and convictions of points out of the reach of 
 scientific demonstration. There would, therefore, be nothing sur- 
 prising or inconsistent Avith what we have maintained above, if it 
 should appear, that while original discoverers of laws of nature are 
 peculiarly led to believe the existence of a supreme intelligence and 
 purpose ; the far greater number of cultivators of science, whose 
 employment it is to learn from others these general laws, and to 
 trace, combine, and apply their consequences, should have no clear- 
 ness of conviction or security from error on this subject, beyond 
 what belongs to persons of any other class." — Astronomy and general 
 Physics considered tcith reference to Natural Theology, pp. 323 — 325. 
 
 The subject of the difference in the amount of impression made 
 by the discovery of general laws and by their mere subsequent appli- 
 cation by processes of deduction, is discussed with much ingenuity, 
 and, it may be admitted, so far at least as abstract tendency is con- 
 cerned, with reason and truth. The legitimate tendency indeed of 
 scientific knowledge cannot be questioned, any more than the legiti- 
 mate tendency of the general observation of nature. If there are in 
 nature the manifestations of the existence, and of the wisdom, 
 power, and goodness of the Creator, the tendency of such observa- 
 tion must be to produce the belief of his being and perfections, and 
 to inspire the sentiments and affections towards him which are 
 appropriate to his character. It is the existence, the abundance, 
 and the tendency of the evidence, that renders men "without ex- 
 cuse," when they fail of right discernment, of faith, and fear, and 
 love, and adoration, and service. Now, if the more closely nature 
 is investigated, and the more intimately her operations are known, 
 the more clearly and convincingly do the proofs of a divine original 
 come forth ; then must the tendency of scientific knowledge to the 
 production of faith and piety, be proportionally stronger than the 
 more geneial and superficial observation of nature; — and, as a 
 n cccssary consequence, the inexcusableness, in every case in which 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 273 
 
 these are not the result, must be the greater. While such is the 
 proper tendency of knowledge, there must be some sadly counteract- 
 ing tendencies in human nature, by which its legitimate effects are 
 prevented, when in any instance they do not appear. When Mr. 
 Whewell speaks of the manifold "perversions" of the universal 
 " belief of a supernatural and presiding power," as being " manifestly 
 the work of caprice and illusion, and vanishing at the first ray o£ 
 sober inquiry," (page 294,) he appears to indicate a more favourable 
 estimate of human nature than the Apostle Paul had, when, assign- 
 ing the cause of the departure of mankind from the original and 
 right conceptions of Deity, he says, " They did not like to retain 
 God in their knowledge." When he adds, " Those who have traced 
 the progress of human thought on other subjects, will not think it 
 strange, that, while the fundamental persuasion of a Deity was thus 
 irremovably seated in the human mind, the development of this 
 conception into a consistent, pure, and stedfast belief in one Al- 
 mighty, and Holy Father and God should be long missed, or never 
 attained, by the struggle of the human faculties ; should require 
 long reflection to mature it, and the aid of revelation to establish it 
 in the world" — I hardly know what to think. I am quite at a 
 loss to reconcile such representations with the obvious dictates of 
 revealed truth. There seems to be assumed an original ignorance of 
 the unity and attributes of the true God ; — a tendency in the human 
 mind, from this ignorance, or mere " general persuasion of a Deity," 
 towards clearer, fuller, purer, and more exalted conceptions of his 
 nature and character ; — such a difficulty in the discovery as to 
 render it no matter of surprise, though it should be " long missed, 
 or even never attained ;" — and the ascription of the discovery to 
 human reason, and of the maturing of it to "long reflection," while 
 all that was required of revelation Avas its " aid to establish it in the 
 world." It seems to me that in the Scriptures the very reverse of 
 all these positions is maintained : — that the right knowledge of God 
 was originally possessed ; — that the tendency of human nature, on 
 such subjects, as evinced by an experiment of thousands of years, 
 has ever been, not from wrong to right, but from right to wrong, — 
 not from ignorance to knowledge, but from knowledge to ignorance ; 
 — the first knowledge having been universally lost, and there being 
 no instance of any " struggle of the human faculties " having ever 
 restored it, independently of direct revelation, or of foreign interfer- 
 ence on the part of those by whom the light of revelation was en- 
 joyed ; — and that, at the same time, such is the simplicity and the 
 clearness of the lesson taught by nature of " eternal power and 
 I. T 
 
274 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Godhead," as to render men universally "without excuse," in not 
 having retained it at first, or learned it afterwards. It is a grievous 
 mistake to regard idolatry as if it were only the infancy of true reli- 
 gion, the result of the first efforts of the human mind towards the 
 attainment of true knowledge, the religious principle in its rudi- 
 mental state, the embryo or germ of a better system. This is pre- 
 cisely the reverse of the fact. Instead of the infancy of true reli- 
 gion, idolatry is its wretched and dotard degeneracy ; — instead of 
 the first feeling of the human mind after truth, it is the worthless 
 product of its insensate proneness to error ; — instead of the right 
 plant in its gcrminant weakness, it is the mass of putridity left by 
 its decay. 
 
 Instead of a "progress in human thought," on such subjects, 
 from darkness to light, the application to them of human wisdom 
 has invariably produced an exemplification of the Apostle's words, — 
 91 Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools." The philo- 
 sophers of this world, while they have partaken in those tendencies 
 to forget God which are common to the whole race, — are the sub- 
 jects at the same time of other tendencies which are peculiar to 
 themselves : — I refer to all that may be comprehended in the pride 
 of science, — the high-mindedness of unsanctified intellect : the 
 strength of which not a few have testified, who have themselves 
 known it in their experience, and have afterwards become the sub- 
 jects of the humbling grace of God. It is in consequence of this 
 pride, that " the things of God" are so often " hid from the wise 
 and prudent, and revealed unto babes." And if these things be so, 
 while wc admit that the legitimate tendency of discovery in the works 
 of God is to impress the conviction of his being and perfections 
 more strongly than its subsequent application merely to known phe- 
 nomena, — yet, as there is in such discovery, in proportion to its 
 rarity, something more elating to the mind of its fortunate author, 
 giving distinction to his name, investing him with the greater eclat 
 of genius, with the brighter halo of scientific celebrity, — it may 
 admit of question whether this tendency may not go far to counter- 
 act the salutary influence of the other. All true religion must be 
 founded in humility ; and whatever fosters pride, destroys piety. 
 
 Even, indeed, if the proper tendency of discovery in science were 
 admitted to its full extent, and were free too from any such counter- 
 action of a moral kind, wc might remark how much smaller the 
 number of discoverers must ever be than the number of those who 
 only apply the principles and laws discovered to known phenomena, 
 — how many fewer there must ever be of original geniuses than of 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS 275 
 
 inferior, though respectable and even eminent, speculators on the 
 results of their genius ; — and that, therefore, even on Mr. Wheweli's 
 own principle, the number of men of science distinguished for piety 
 might be expected to be proportionally small. But, after all, every- 
 thing in such a question, depends upon what is meant by piety :— 
 and on this subject I must simply refer to what is said in the text, 
 (pp. 5, 6.) All will concur in the regret, that " a coalition so 
 natural and seemly as that of science and piety, should ever be 
 wanting." In Mr. Wheweli's enumeration of examples of the 
 
 coalition, there are certainly some, whose piety must be regarded 
 
 if we take the Divine word for its standard — as of a very vague and 
 questionable kind. But it would be alike invidious and presump- 
 tuous to enter into the discussion of personal character. 
 
 Note B. Page 15. 
 
 Formerly the chief part of the Preface to the Third Edition ; containing 
 Strictures o?ipart of an Article in the " Edinburgh Review." 
 
 In the " Edinburgh Review " for April 1836, in an article on the 
 late Dr. Young's "Lectures on Intellectual Philosophy," some observ- 
 ations are introduced on the "Christian Ethics," as "one of the 
 ablest and most plausible " of a class of works, of which, at the 
 same time, the fundamental principles, as represented by the Re- 
 viewer, are decidedly condemned. As these observations do not so 
 much relate to any particular portion of the Lectures, as to the 
 elements on which their reasonings and illustrations are based, it 
 will not, I trust, be reckoned out of place to devote the remainder of 
 this Preface to a brief examination of them. 
 
 It is from such works as the " Christian Ethics," the Reviewer 
 conceives, that "the principal danger to intellectual science is at 
 present to be apprehended." They discover, according to him, " a 
 strong disposition to overthrow the independent study of the human 
 mind." * And from what he calls the " thiaisting of Christianity 
 
 * The reader will observe, that this style of objection is no more than -what I had 
 anticipated: — "I am well aware how exceedingly unpalatable the principle is on 
 which I am now proceeding; and with what indi-nation philosophers will scowl upon 
 it and hoot it down, as not merely involving what will by them he regarded as a 
 
276 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 into the room of philosophy," he is apprehensive of no small hazard 
 to the interests of both. Now, in the first place, I neither feel, nor 
 have I expressed, any wish to " thrust Christianity into the room 
 of philosophy," excepting in those cases in which philosophy has 
 attempted to thrust itself into the room of Christianity. My simple 
 ground is this, — and no philosophy but a false or partial philosophy 
 will seek to dislodge me from it, — that on all subjects of which it 
 treats, the claims of the Bible, as an inspired document, are entitled 
 to examination as a branch of evidence ; and that the philosopher, 
 whose professed aim is the attainment of truth, proves himself 
 a recreant to his profession, if he leaves this branch of evidence 
 uninvestigated. It has not only a claim, but the first claim, to 
 investigation ; the satisfactory establishment of Divine authority 
 manifestly precluding, in every sound mind, the need of anything 
 additional, or the possibility of anything superior, and reducing 
 our inquiries to one point — namely, the meaning of the document. 
 " From the tone of some late publications," says the Reviewer, 
 " and the favourable reception which they have had from a portion 
 of the public, it is manifest that there exists, in some sections of the 
 religious world, a strong disposition to overthrow the independent 
 study of the human mind, especially in reference to ethical inquiry, 
 and to substitute for it a chaotic mixture of natural and revealed 
 religion." Now, by " the independent study of the htiman mind," the 
 Reviewer must here be understood to mean, (if he means anything 
 to the purpose,) the study of it in itself, according to its present 
 phenomena, felt in ourselves and observed in others, independently of 
 the authority of Divine revelation. And let it be remembered, that 
 the sole department of the study of the human mind with which, in 
 our present inquiry, we have anything to do, is the ethical depart- 
 ment. Where the Reviewer says " especially," he might have said 
 exclusively. To the simply intellectual department, our investigations 
 have no reference ; for the influence of moral tendencies upon the 
 operations of the mental powers is, in these investigations, confined 
 to the philosophy of ethics, and has no relation either to any other 
 branch of metaphysical science, or to any branch whatever of the 
 science of physics. In this sense, then, and in this department, I 
 do, most deliberately, deny the right and the reasonableness of what 
 the Reviewer denominates " the independent study of the human 
 mind." I deny it, on the principles of all sound philosophy. I 
 
 slander on the object of their almost idolatrous veneration, human nature, but as 
 laying an arbitrary interdict an ike freedom of Speculation, end wrapping in uncertainly 
 all the results, on such subjects, of philosophical research."— Lect. II. pp. 39, 40. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 277 
 
 deny it, because it amounts to a claim to prosecute the study of the 
 human mind, in its ethical phenomena, independently of evidence. I 
 deny it in moral science, on the same ground on which I should 
 deny it in practical jurisprudence. What should we think of the 
 judge, who, in the investigation of a cause, should insist on the 
 exclusion of a department of evidence, of which the knowledge was 
 indispensable to the formation of a sound and righteous verdict? 
 Precisely analogous to such procedure is that of the moral philoso- 
 pher who prosecutes the " independent study of the human mind." 
 He prosecutes the study independently of an essential department 
 of evidence. If in the document which he thinks himself entitled 
 to set aside and to hold in abeyance, there is contained a disclosure 
 of certain facts relative to the origin, history, and condition of the 
 creature who is the subject of investigation, such as cannot fail 
 materially to affect the legitimate results of the inquiry, — so mate- 
 rially as, in some points, it may be, even to reverse them ; — is it fair, 
 is it reasonable, is it, in any correct sense, philosophical, to leave the 
 claims of this document out of the account, and to insist on pur- 
 suing the investigation independently of it ? Is not this, I repeat, 
 to insist on being independent of evidence f And can the demand of 
 such independence be dictated by the love of truth ? 
 
 Further : is it not a principle of sound philosophy, that in the 
 prosecution of our inquiries, in which soever of its departments, we 
 endeavour to make ourselves as thoroughly acquainted as possible 
 with all existing sources of illusion, — with every ascertained or sus- 
 pected occasion of fallacy, either common to the subject of inquiry 
 with others, or peculiar to itself ? In all the departments of physical 
 science, are not these what every experimenter is, in the first in- 
 stance, solicitous to know, that, to the utmost degree possible, he may 
 guard against them ? Is it not thus with the chemist ? If his pro- 
 cess is one which requires to be conducted hi darkness, how anxious 
 is he to exclude every ray of light ; if in oxygen, to have his 
 oxygen as pure as possible ; and if in a vacuum, to have his vacuum 
 as perfect as the best air-pump can make it ! — how solicitous to 
 introduce the precise proportions of every ingredient required, and 
 to prevent the admission, in however trivial a degree, of any foreign 
 ingredient, such as would impart inaccuracy or uncertainty to the 
 result ! Is this less necessary in ethics than in chemistry ? If in 
 any process of ethical inquiry, we either admit elements of reasoning 
 that expose us to the hazard of a false conclusion, or exclude such 
 as are requisite for our arriving at one in accordance with truth, — 
 are we not acting the same unphilosophical part as the chemist 
 
278 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 would, if he admitted light into his darkened chamber, azote into 
 his oxygen, or air into his vacuum? My object has been, to demon- 
 strate, that ethical philosophers, by prosecuting " the independent 
 study of the human mind," and debarring from the principles on 
 which they conduct their process the peculiar discoveries of revela- 
 tion, and especially the facts of man's original perfection and moral 
 degeneracy, do act the unphilosophical part of both, admitting what 
 ought to be excluded, and excluding what ought to be admitted, in 
 the elements of their investigation ; and thus wilfully subject them- 
 selves to sources of illusion and fallacy. They may allege that they 
 are following out the principles of induction. I deny it. The in- 
 ductive philosophy demands, that all ascertainable data be taken 
 into the account, as the ground of our conclusion : — when they 
 leave out alleged facts, without a full and careful examination of 
 their evidence, instead of being commended for their adherence to 
 its principles, they are reprehensible for their departure from them. 
 Whence this jealousy of Divine revelation, and of the introduction 
 of its authority ? Is there not ground for apprehension, that there 
 is more in it of the spirit of independence than of the love of 
 truth ? 
 
 But, according to the Reviewer, there is a disposition not only to 
 " overthrow the independent study of the human mind," but also to 
 substitute for it " a chaotic mixture of natural and revealed religion." 
 — When we speak or hear of a " chaotic mixture," we have the 
 impression in our minds of a jumble of discordant elements. This, 
 I presume, is every man's notion of a chaos. But the terms em- 
 ployed by the Reviewer involve a contradiction. " A chaotic mix- 
 ture of natural and revealed religion" is an impossibility. The 
 principles of natural and revealed religion can never be discordant. 
 There are discoveries, it is true, in revealed religion, peculiar to 
 itself, and which nature, searched throughout, could never have 
 yielded. But the elements of the two arc perfectly homogeneous. 
 If any thing in what philosophers may be pleased to call natural 
 religion is at variance with divine revelation, — so that the attempt to 
 blend the one with the other really produces a "mixture" of which 
 "chaotic" is the appropriate designation, — then do I fearlessly say, 
 that what they call "natural religion" is no such thing. They are 
 guilty of a misnomer. It is not religion at all ; for it is not truth. 
 Between the lessons taught in the volume of nature and those taught 
 in the volume of revelation, there is, there can be, no discrepancy. 
 There is a perfect and beautiful harmony, which I have endeavoured, 
 however feebly and inadequately, to unfold. The harmony may be 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 279 
 
 predicated, with, equal truth, respecting the discoveries both of the 
 divine nature and of the divine will. If in this department, the 
 results of " independent study" have been such as will not amal- 
 gamate with the lessons of revelation, — of what is this a proof, but 
 of the proneness of man, when on such subjects he does study in- 
 dependently, to the formation of false and unworthy conceptions ? — a 
 proneness originating in such moral causes as to leave its results, in 
 the language of the Apostle Paul, "without excuse." The same 
 inspired writer states these results, (and that not merely in regard 
 to the common herd of mankind, but in regard to those who, whether 
 by themselves or others, were esteemed the wise,) in the brief but 
 comprehensive sentence, " The world by wisdom knew not God." 
 And such has ever been the only true representation of the fact, in 
 regard to the "independent study" of the volume of nature. The 
 fault, at the same time, has not been in the lessons, but in the 
 learners. I deny that, in our own country, or in any country where 
 the light of revelation is enjoyed, there is any such thing to be found 
 as the '•'■independent study" either of theology or of morals. The 
 light may not be acknowledged ; but it exists. It can by no means 
 be granted, that our modern philosophers surpass those of antiquity, 
 in comprehensiveness, perspicacity, and energy of mind : — but they 
 conduct their observations, and frame their theories, in different cir- 
 cumstances, and with superior advantages. They have obtained a 
 help to their vision, by which they are enabled to see distinctly what 
 before, if at all, was but partially and dimly discerned : — but, instead 
 of gratefully owning the benefit of the borrowed instrument, they 
 have thrown it aside, or kept it carefully out of view, and have 
 assumed the credit to their own clear-sightedness. That " chaotic 
 mixtures" have been produced, — chaotic in no common degree,— 
 by attempts to blend the discoveries of " independent " philosophy 
 with the dictates of divine revelation, is well known to all who are 
 acquainted with the early history of the church. Such attempts 
 were only additional exemplifications of human folly. Instead of 
 " becoming fools that they might be wise," — instead of humbly 
 relinquishing the results of their own wisdom, and acquiescing in the 
 dictates of God's, — men vainly endeavoured, in their reluctance to 
 abandon the former, to effect a combination of heterogeneous mate- 
 rials, of which the result was, beyond question, a chaos. But it was 
 not a chaos of " natural and revealed religion :" it was a chaos of the 
 lessons of man's " independent study" and the lessons of the Spirit 
 of God. If the Reviewer will call the former natural religion, he is 
 welcome ; but we cannot admit their title to the designation. I 
 
280 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 the mixture of "natural and revealed religion" be a chaos, — then 
 which of the elements are Ave to prefer — those of nature, or those of 
 revelation ? 
 
 But on this subject, the Reviewer is not very consistent with him- 
 self. While he speaks of a " chaotic mixture of natural and revealed 
 religion," as if they were quite at variance, he nevertheless represents 
 the former as the basis of the latter ; and, in the following sentence, 
 endeavours, on this principle, to involve my argument in a kind of 
 suicidal inconsistency : — " It is a truth which cannot be too frequently 
 impressed on those who fancy that, by thrusting religion into the 
 room of philosophy, they are doing a service to the interests of the 
 former, — that all revealed religion presupposes, and is built upon, 
 the prior religion of nature ; and if this religion be the worthless 
 thing which some are fain to make it, be it remembered, that the 
 building is insecure in direct proportion to the badness of the ground 
 on which it rests." — This is a sentiment that is often sported ; but 
 sported with a surprising degree of undiscriminating vagueness. It 
 is a truth ; — and it is not a truth. In a sense in which it is nothing 
 to the Reviewer's purpose, it is a truth ; but in the only sense in 
 which it is to the Reviewer's purpose, it is not a truth. That the 
 religion of revelation presupposes the religion of nature, is true : — 
 that is, it presupposes the actual existence of a Divine Being, — the 
 actual possession by that Being of certain attributes of character, — 
 the actual manifestation of these attributes in his created works, — 
 and their consequent actual capability of proof. This is true. But 
 never, surely, to any proposition was the designation more appro- 
 priate — of a truism. For to what does it amount ? Just to this :— 
 that the existence of God must precede the manifestation of him ; that 
 the manifestation of him in nature must precede the manifestation of 
 him in written revelation ; and that the latter manifestation must be in 
 perfect concord with the former. — These are self-evident truths ; to 
 prove, or even to illustrate which, would be mockery. The intelli- 
 gent creatures to whom the written revelation is supposed to be 
 addressed, themselves constitute a part of nature or creation ; and 
 in their own existence, and the constitution of their own frame, and 
 their adapted relations to the external world around them, they have 
 evidence of the being and perfections of the Supreme Cause. — All 
 this is plain ; — and it may further be granted, that the religion of 
 revelation not only presupposes the religion of nature, but "is built 
 upon it." The evidence of a revelation coming from God, can never 
 be surer than the evidence from nature that God is ; for that would 
 be to suppose a communication from an existing being more certain 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 281 
 
 than the existence of the being from whom it comes ; than which there 
 cannot be a more palpable absurdity. It is in nature, without 
 question, that the foundation of our belief in the elementary prin- 
 ciples of all religion, — the being and perfections of God, — must be 
 considered as laid. A written revelation, indeed, not merely as 
 accredited by appropriate external evidence, but as bearing the 
 impress of the same characters, and in this impress internal evidence 
 of the same origin, with his other works, — may give increased ex- 
 tent and stability to this foundation ; — but all that is peculiar in such 
 a revelation, — every thing in its discoveries that is beyond those of 
 nature, — may safely be admitted to rest, as superstructure, on the 
 ground of these primary and essential principles, as evinced by "the 
 things that are made." 
 
 But what of all this? It is one thing to grant that "revealed 
 religion presupposes and is built upon the prior religion of na- 
 ture," when we understand the religion of nature as meaning what 
 Nature actually teaches ; — it is a very different thing to grant the 
 same proposition, if we understand the religion of nature as 
 signifying what man has actually learned. I admit the former ; I 
 deny the latter. What nature teaches, and what man learns, may 
 be very far from coincident. Wherever man has been left to his 
 " independent study," such has been the melancholy fact. Whilst, 
 therefore, we readily grant, that revealed religion assumes and rests 
 upon the truths and principles actually contained in the lessons of nature, 
 we are very far from granting that revealed religion assumes and 
 rests upon any p>revio%is system of natural religion framed from these 
 lessons by human wisdom. What! revealed religion "built upon" 
 the deductions and theories of that " wisdom" by which the " world 
 •knew not God!" Natural religion, as its principles are contained 
 in the volume of nature, may be no " worthless thing," but a system 
 of clear and certain truth ; while natural religion, as its principles 
 have been read from that volume by fallen man, may emphatically 
 merit the designation, — being a compound, at the best, of a small 
 proportion of truth with a large amount of varied falsehood and folly. 
 When, therefore, the Reviewer says, — "If this religion (the religion 
 of nature) be the worthless thing which some are fain to make it, be 
 it remembered, that the building is insecure in direct proportion to 
 the badness of the ground on which it rests," — it woidd have been 
 well for him to have explained the sense in which " the religion of 
 nature" is understood by him. If he means the religion of nature 
 as it has been learned and held by man, then I ask him, to which of 
 the diversified forms wherein it has presented itself, are we to look 
 
282 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 for our standard ? — to which of the systems of popular polytheism, 
 or to which of the systems of philosophic theism ? It would be diffi- 
 cult to say whether of the two classes of systems contains the more 
 extraordinary diversity, the one of all that is fatuous, pitiless, and 
 vile, — the other of all that is crude, meagre, false, conjectural, and 
 inconsistent, — with an occasional admixture of truths, so ill-assorted 
 and out of place, as to give ground for the surmise, that, instead of 
 having been learned by the philosophers themselves from the same 
 source with the other elements of their systems, they have been, 
 indirectly and incidentally, borrowed from those who had received 
 their lessons from a higher quarter. Where is it, amongst all these 
 systems, that we are to find the foundation on which the religion of 
 revelation is to be considered as " built " v ? — If, on the other hand, 
 the lie viewer, by " the prior religion of nature," means the lessons 
 concerning God, that are actually contained in the general structure 
 and various productions of the material universe ; then, who are they 
 to whom he refers when he says — " if this religion be the worthless 
 thing that some are fain to make it?" "Who has depreciated it? 
 Who has bestowed upon it the epithet of " worthless," or discovered 
 any fainness to prove the epithet appropriate ? There is surely a 
 wide difference between depreciating the religion of nature as its 
 principles are written in the book of God's handiwork, and de- 
 preciating it as it appears in the speculations of man's " inde- 
 pendent study." We may think but little of the one ; we may 
 even affix to it the designation of "worthless ;" whilst yet Ave hold 
 the other in the highest and most devout admiration. To speak 
 of revealed religion as "presupposing and built upon" the latter, is 
 only to speak of it as presupposing and built upon the great truths 
 that God is, and that He is what He is, as the attributes of his nature 
 are made known in his works. But to speak of it as presupposing and 
 built upon the former, is to base the wisdom of God \ipon the folly 
 of man. If this be what the Reviewer means, he is answerable for 
 the "badness of the ground" on which he has been pleased to rest 
 the superstructure of revealed religion, and consequently for the 
 " insecurity of the building." The sandy foundation is his, not ours. 
 But to rest revealed religion on the other and true view of the reli- 
 gion of nature, is to rest it on immovable rock, — not on what is 
 human, but on what is divine. 
 
 On the subject of conscience, or the standard of morals in the 
 nature of man, the Be viewer states my objection to its sufficiency, 
 or trust- worthiness, more strongly and unqualifiedly than I have 
 done myself; and therefore, to that extent, erroneously. This is 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 283 
 
 what we are always prone to do, when we are speaking of systems 
 of doctrine which we disapprove, and which it is our object to expose ; 
 and I can make allowance for it. The degree to which conscience, 
 or our judgment of moral principles and actions, is in danger of 
 being affected by the influence of natural depravity, or the aliena- 
 tion of the heart from God, being necessarily indefinite, — various in 
 its amount and manifestation, — it is difficult, if not impossible, in 
 speaking of it, to employ always such terms as indicate, with preci- 
 sion, the same boundaries of meaning. Some of mine, accordingly, 
 have been stronger, and some weaker. But the Reviewer has over- 
 stepped, in his commentary, even the strongest. My general meaning, 
 however, as every candid reader will perceive, is, that in the science 
 of morals we stand in need of certainty; and that by the ordinary 
 process, of deducing moral theories from the nature of man as we 
 now inherit it ourselves and contemplate it in others, such certainty 
 (as the whole history of moral speculation evinces) is far from being 
 attainable ; that what the Reviewer denominates " the independent 
 study of the human mind" has never yielded it ; and that by fallen 
 man it must be obtained from a higher source. The question, on 
 this subject, is manifestly a question of fact, — the question, namely, 
 whether there really exist in human nature such biassing influences 
 as I have ascribed to it. If they do exist, — then, surely, as already 
 observed, it is needful that in all our speculations we be aware of 
 them, and make every due allowance for their operation. I have 
 said, that " conscience is not to be trusted as an infallible standard 
 of right and wrong." In using this somewhat qualified expression, 
 the Reviewer represents me as " departing from my own hypothesis;" 
 and that hypothesis he states to be the " titter fallaciousness of reason 
 when employed about certain classes of inquiries." This is unfair. 
 It is a representation which would naturally lead any reader to con- 
 clude, that my fundamental position was, not merely that reason and 
 conscience are in many things fallible, but that, on moral subjects, 
 they are in everything deceived; not only that they are prone to wrong, 
 but that they are never right. But I have said no such thing. Even 
 in affirming conscience not to be " an infallible standard," I have 
 left the amount of fallibility undefined. The moderate expression 
 employed was all that my purpose at the time required. The prin- 
 ciple on which my argument proceeds, so far from being weakened 
 by the parallel cases in physical science adduced by the Reviewer, is 
 confirmed and strengthened by them. " Malebranche and Huet," 
 says he, " have both shown, that neither are the senses to be trusted 
 as infallible guides in reference to external objects ; and our own 
 
284 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 experience every day "assures us, that reason is not an infallible 
 guide in regard to even the plainest truths. But does it follow, that 
 the existence of an external world is a matter of uncertainty, or that 
 mathematical demonstration is void of conclusiveness, though de- 
 pending on the exercise of a faculty, for which it would be too much 
 to claim the attribute of infallibility?" Now, to me it is perfectly 
 clear, that on the supposition of the Reviewer's being bond fide con- 
 vinced that " Malebranche and Huet have shown that the senses are 
 not to be trusted as infallible guides in reference to external objects," 
 he ought, without question, to the extent in which he is so con- 
 vinced, to act upon the conviction, and to distrust them ; that he 
 would be most inconsistent with himself if he did not keep in mind, 
 and as far as possible guard against, the illusions to which they 
 exposed him. Nay, more ; if he were really satisfied that the testi- 
 mony of the senses is not a sure ground of belief in the existence of 
 an external world, the existence of such a world ought, in his mind, 
 to be a matter of scepticism. But it is no less plain, that it can be 
 no further than the point to which the senses are supposed to be 
 proved deceptive, that it can be reasonable to distrust them ; and 
 that, therefore, the uncertainty of the existence of an external world 
 may be a thorough non sequitur from the degree, or the department, 
 in which that deceptiveness is presumed to have been established. — 
 In the same manner, if "our own experience every day assures us 
 that reason is not an infallible guide in regard to even the plainest 
 truths," — does it not follow that, in as far as our experience does 
 assure us of this, reason ought to be distrusted ? — that we ought to 
 be proportionably cautious in following its dictates ? But if this 
 experience affects departments of truth entirely different from that of 
 "mathematical demonstration," then the " in conclusiveness of such 
 demonstration" is, as in the former instance, a non sequitur from the 
 experience. Nothing, surely, can be plainer than that, in all cases, 
 to the extent in which we arc liable to be deceived, Ave should be 
 distrustful, and on our guard against deception. If the liability 
 is limited, the distrust should be limited ; if the liability is inde- 
 finite, the distrust should be indefinite. There is the very same 
 necessity in the department of morals for guarding against the per- 
 verting influence of depraved affections, as there is in the investiga- 
 tions of general science for guarding against the powerful seductions 
 to the illicit and mischievous worship of the Baconian Idols ; and the 
 Reviewer had just the same ground for charging Lord Bacon with an 
 attempt "to subvert the authority of the natural faculties of man," 
 because he pointed out the tendencies to error arising from the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 285 
 
 influence of these idols, as he had to charge me with such an attempt 
 for having endeavoured, how feebly soever, to point out one of the 
 most extensively prevalent causes of delusion in the conduct of 
 speculations in morals. Could he have shown that the cause is an 
 imaginary one, — the unreal creation of a superstitious fancy, — that 
 there is no such thing as any taint of moral pravity in the nature of 
 man, — or that, supposing it to exist, there is nothing at all in its 
 influence hazardous to the fairness of moral speculations, or to the 
 correctness and certainty of moral deductions, — he would have done 
 something to his purpose. As it is, I feel my argument unscathed. 
 
 I must pass over, without remark, the acquiescence of the Re- 
 viewer in the meagre and most unsatisfactory statements of Paley, 
 respecting the chief design of revelation, — lamenting the sad defi- 
 ciency (to say nothing more) of gospel truth in the theology of that 
 otherwise admirable writer ; and must hasten to a close of these too 
 lengthened strictures, by a few observations on two sequences, 
 drawn by the Reviewer from my premises, which to me appear both 
 alike fallacious. They are expressed in the following sentence : — 
 " Be it so that our reason is so depraved as to have lost its character 
 of authoritative certainty in regard either to physical or moral truth ; 
 then, hi the first place, we are deprived of all assurance respecting 
 those fundamental truths, which natural theology has been generally 
 supposed to teach ; and, secondly, if we be referred to faith in con- 
 firmation of their reality, still the evidences of that faith have no 
 power of affecting our minds, except through the medium of those 
 very powers whose authority has been previously thrown aside ; so 
 that this absurd endeaA r our to thrust Christianity into the room of 
 philosophy, ends in the palpable triumph of scepticism over both." 
 — This is a very serious result : let us see where the truth lies. 
 
 With regard, then, to the former of these two hypothetical 
 sequences, I have to observe, first of all, that I have not represented 
 reason itself as properly and directly depraved. It was not at all my 
 object to discuss the question, how far the comprehensiveness and 
 perspicacity of the human intellect were diminished by the Fall. 
 My representation is, that on particular subjects, reason is liable to 
 certain biassing influences, — the influences of a heart alienated from 
 God, and the seat of unholy affections, — by which, on these subjects, 
 the clearness of its discrimination and the certainty of its decisions 
 are materially impaired. Neither have I spoken of it, as having 
 " lost its character of authoritative certainty " in regard to "physical 
 truth." Even in this department, it might be pleaded, there are 
 occasionally influences of a moral kind at work — the love of singu- 
 
98G NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 larity, the love of fame, envy of others, or its opposite scorn, tenacity 
 of our own opinions, unwillingness to own an error, and many more 
 — may sway the exercise of reason, even in investigations which 
 themselves have no connexion with moral science. But it is in this 
 latter department, of course, that the perverting power of depravity 
 is incomparably most conspicuous. So strikingly is this the case, 
 that the results of the operations of reason in the departments of 
 physics might be used, in the way of contrast, to illustrate the 
 miserable deficiency of their results in the department of theology 
 and ethics. And even in this latter department, the cause of the 
 deficiency is not the direct incompetency of reason itself ; for were 
 reason incompetent, man would not be responsible, ability being a 
 prerequisite to accountableness, and a measure of its amount. But 
 the question respecting the perverting power of the principles of 
 depravity, is, as has already been said, a question of fact. I point 
 again, for an exemplification of it, to the case of natural religion, as 
 it presents itself amongst those who have been destitute of revela- 
 tion : — not " those fundamental truths which," in the theories of 
 philosophers living amid the light of Christianity, " natural theology 
 has been generally supposed to teach," — but the actual results of 
 man's " independent study," where that light has not at all shone. 
 What were these results ? A universal ignorance of the one true 
 God, — polytheistic idolatry, — philosophic atheism, — or a wretchedly 
 defective and erroneous theism. Such is the undeniable fact, esta- 
 blished by the history of centuries and millenniums. — What, then, 
 is the legitimate inference ? Here is the point. Are we to infer, 
 that the evidence of the divine Being and perfections, in the works of 
 nature, is Insufficient? Assuredly no; for then men's ignorance and 
 unbelief would not be, what the volume of inspiration affirms them 
 to be, " without excuse." Are we, then, to infer, that the mental 
 powers of men are incompetent to the discernment and appreciation 
 of the evidence ? Assuredly no ; for this would involve the same 
 conclusion, leaving to ignorance and unbelief a valid apology. The 
 true cause of the ignorance is assigned gi revelation itself — " They 
 did not like to retain God in their knowledge." The simple question, 
 then, comes to be, Is it so, or is it not so ? If it be so, — if men 
 universally lost the knowledge of God, and lost it from disinclina- 
 tion to retain it, — does it follow, that we are " deprived of all assur- 
 ance respecting those fundamental truths which natural theology has 
 been generally supposed to teach?" Assuredly no; else there 
 would still be ground of excuse. For what is it that constitutes the 
 culpability of mankind, in not discovering, or in not retaining the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. '287 
 
 knowledge of God ? What, but the existence of the very grounds 
 and means of such assurance, — namely, the palpable obviousness 
 and obtrusive abundance of the evidences, together with the suffi- 
 cient capability of the human mind to discern and appreciate them ? 
 Is there any thing else besides these, — besides sufficient evidence and 
 sufficient capacity, — necessary to man's ac count ableness ? If not, 
 then we have all the assurance, unimpaired, of those fundamental 
 truths which "natural theology teaches ; " — we have the lessons, m 
 all their clearness, and in all their variety, and we have intellectual 
 capacity to read and understand them. If men have failed to learn 
 the lessons, where lies the blame ? Not with the teacher, but with 
 the taught : — and the greater the measure of clearness and impres- 
 siveness with which "natural theology teaches" the greater is the 
 manifestation of the amount and influence of depravity in those who 
 do not learn. Let the Reviewer, then, make his choice. It must be 
 of one or other of three conclusions. Either, first, he must affirm, 
 that, without revelation, mankind have actually possessed the know- 
 ledge of the true God, — an affirmation which would be in the face of 
 the entire history of the species : — or, secondly, that mankind are 
 excusable m their ignorance ; which would be to grant a deficiency, 
 either in the evidence of the truth, or in the capacity of discerning 
 it, — in other words, to grant our having (in the true and proper 
 sense of his own terms,) " no assurance of the fundamental truths 
 which natural theology has been generally supposed to teach : " — or, 
 thirdly, that the fact being as I have stated it, mankind are ignorant, 
 and are at the same time without excuse for their ignorance ; which 
 would involve the admission of all that I have contended for, — 
 namely, the sufficiency of evidence, and the sufficiency of capacity, 
 but the counteraction of both by the blinding and perverting influ- 
 ence of moral pravity. 
 
 The second of the two hypothetical sequences is stated thus : — 
 "If we be referred to faith hi confirmation of their reality, still the 
 evidences of that faith have no power of affecting our minds, except 
 through the medium of those very powers whose authority has been 
 previously thrown aside : so that this absurd endeavour to thrust 
 Christianity into the room of philosophy, ends in the palpable 
 triumph of scepticism over both." — This is plausible ; but it is no 
 more. Let the reader observe, in the first place, that the charge of 
 "throwing aside the authority of the powers" — of judgment and 
 reason namely — is a false charge. So far am I from throwing this 
 aside, that, were I to do so, the ground of my inculpation of men for 
 their ignorance and unbelief of the discoveries either of nature or of 
 
288 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 revelation, would be entirely swept away. The powers remain. 
 They hold the same place as ever in the constitution of the human 
 mind, and, in regard to legitimate right, the same authority. They 
 ought to discern truth ; they ought to rule by its influence. The 
 evidences of Christianity, like the evidences of natural religion, are 
 addressed to the reason of man. All its evidences are so addressed, 
 whether external, internal, or experimental. To speak of evidence 
 as addressed to faith, would be absurd. Faith is the result of 
 evidence perceived ; the perception and estimate of the evidence 
 belong to reason. But does it follow from this, that in the present 
 state of human nature, there must be nothing, and can be nothing by 
 which reason is capable of being warped in its exercise, and per- 
 verted in its decisions ? Does the affirmation of the existence of any 
 such perversity really amount to a" throwing aside" of reason, or a 
 depriving it of its legitimate "authority?" No. Suppose a prince 
 should open his ear to the voice of flattery, and, under the influence 
 of its bewitching seductions, should be tempted to administer his 
 government in a manner subversive of the beneficial ends for which, 
 it had been intrusted to him ; we should never think of saying that 
 he was denuded of his authority. "We should say that his authority, 
 though still retained, was perversely exercised ; — that he was the 
 criminal dupe of selfishness and vanity. Thus it is with reason, in 
 that department of its exercise which relates to theology and morals. 
 The evidences of Christianity, and the evidences of natural religion, 
 stand precisely in the same predicament with each other. From the 
 fact, that men, so universally, have been idolaters and polytheists* 
 the Deist never thinks of inferring the insufficiency of the latter ; 
 but tries — vainly tries — to account for the fact on principles such as 
 can be made to harmonize with his own idolatry of human nature. 
 But if, from the inefficiency of the evidence, its insufficiency is not in 
 the one case to be considered as a legitimate deduction ; no more 
 would a similar deduction be legitimate in the other. The evidence 
 here, too, may be perfectly clear and conclusive ; reason may be 
 perfectly competent to discern and estimate it ; and yet, in point of 
 fact, it may not be rightly discerned, — it may not be duly estimated : 
 and the failure may be owing to causes, for the permission of whose 
 influence reason is morally responsible. It is a truth, — a melan- 
 choly truth, — that the human intellect, even in what has been con- 
 sidered, by the men of this world, as its highest state of improvement, 
 has, in many instances, rejected divine revelation. But this fact 
 only shows, that the highest state of intellectual cultivation is 
 mournfully compatible with the unmitigated domination of the prin- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTHATIONS. £80 
 
 ciples of moral pravity, or alienation from God.* And in such 
 characters, to the operation of these principles that is common to 
 them with others, there may be superadded an influence peculiar to 
 themselves, and one -which experience has many a time shown to be 
 far from the feeblest, — I mean the pride of intellect. The Reviewer is 
 aware of the fact, that the evidences both of natural and of revealed 
 religion have, in thousands of instances, failed of their effect. Men 
 have not worshipped the one God ; and men have not believed in the 
 one Saviour. I ask him, on what principle he accounts for this ? I 
 shall assume his being himself satisfied, that, in the one case and in 
 the other, the evidence of truth is amply sufficient ; and his entire 
 reasoning proceeds on the further assumption of the competency of 
 the human powers to discern it. How then does he account for the 
 fact, of prevailing idolatry in heathen countries, and prevailing in- 
 fidelity in Christian countries ? The question as to the cause, I say 
 again, is itself a question of fact. Are there, or are there not, such 
 perverting moral influences as I have affirmed to exist ? I have 
 affirmed it on the ground of experience ; — I have affirmed it on the 
 testimony of revelation. I again repudiate the charge of an " absurd 
 attempt to thrust Christianity into the room of philosophy." My 
 only aim has been, to give Christianity, — or, in other words, to give 
 divine revelation, — its proper place, and its due authority. I again, 
 as fearlessly as before, affirm, that the first of all questions ought to 
 be, whether we have or have not such a revelation : — that, if we 
 have, its authority must be paramount, for the simple reason that it 
 is divine : — that, on all subjects on which this revelation delivers its 
 lessons, philosophy, in asserting its right to " independent study," 
 whether "of the human mind" or of any thing else, with a view to 
 conclusions of its own, is chargeable, not only with the proudest and 
 most heaven-insulting presumption, but with the most preposterous 
 and fatuous absurdity; — that on points of which revelation treats, 
 philosophy has no independence, inasmuch as, to assert that it has, is 
 to assert human wisdom to be independent of divine : — that, in 
 arrogating to itself such independence, philosophy thrusts itself into 
 the place of revelation, to which alone, on the hypothesis of its 
 existence, such independence can belong : — and that, consequently, 
 instead of our being justly chargeable with "thrusting religion" — 
 that is, Christianity — revelation — "into the place of philosophy," we 
 are only dislodging philosophy from a position which it has no title 
 
 * There is much of both truth and terseness in the Title of one of Robert Mont- 
 gomery's picnu :— " Satan :— or intellect without God." 
 
 r. U 
 
290 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 to occupy. It has not been the assertion of the supremacy of revela- 
 tion, that has ever given occasion to the triumphs of scepticism. It 
 has been the attempts of philosophy, even when in possession of 
 revelation, to frame, "by independent study," theories of her own. 
 But they who, in the framing of their ethical theories, do not take in 
 the original state of man along with that in which he now appears, — 
 in other words, they who leave out of their estimate the discoveries- 
 of revelation, — reason, as to man, by halves ; and reason, as to God. 
 and morals, on partial and erroneous data. "We are not so mad as to- 
 "take away reason to make way for revelation;" but we must 
 regard those as far more justly chargeable with madness, who would 
 "take away revelation to make way for reason:" and this every 
 man does, who, possessing the word of God, insists on the independ- 
 ence of philosophy. Locke, as quoted by the Reviewer, from Dugald 
 Stewart, speaks truly when he says, — " He that takes away reason 
 to make way for revelation, puts out the light of both ; and does- 
 much the same, as if we would persuade a man to put out his eyes, 
 the better to receive the light of an invisible star by a telescope !" 
 But if a man wilfully shuts his eyes, we do not, on that account, find 
 fault with the telescope ; or if a man chances to have an obscuring 
 film upon his eyes, we do not on that account find fault with the 
 telescope. "We persuade the man to open his eyes ; we try to 
 remove the film. In like manner, we do not find fault with the 
 clear light of nature, or with the clearer light of revelation, on 
 account of either the one or the other being in any instance, or in 
 ten thousand instances, undiscerned ; on account of there being 
 either a wilful closing of the mental eye, or an obscuring film over it. 
 In the case before us, indeed, these two are one, — being only different 
 modes of expression — different figures — for the same thing ; the 
 wilful closing of the mental eye arising from the aversion of the 
 heart to the light of truth, and the obscuring film over it being 
 nothing else than the blinding influence of the same aversion. The 
 difference between the film in this case, and the film in the case of 
 corporeal vision, from which the figure is derived, is obvious and 
 important. In the latter, the cause of the obscurity is physical, and, 
 from its nature, unsusceptible of blameworthiness ; in the former, 
 the cause is moral, and uniformly, though it may be in various 
 degrees, involves culpability. 
 
 From the extensively influential character of the Edinburgh 
 Review, I have been induced to offer these observations, in reply to 
 the strictures in the article referred to, and in vindication of the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 291 
 
 leading principles of the " Christian Ethics." I leave them to the 
 candid judgment of the Public. 
 
 Note C. Pa^e 20. 
 
 On the tendency of Moral Philosophy ', as generally taught in oxer schools 
 of learning. — Dr. Chalmers* Bridgeicatcr Treatise. 
 
 On the subject of these strictures, I have much pleasure in intro- 
 ducing the following sentiments of Dr. Chalmers, from a work 
 published after the composition and delivery of this Lecture — The 
 Bridgewater Treatise ; — " The great error of our academic theism, 
 as commonly treated, is, that it expresses no want ; that it reposes 
 on its own fancied sufficiency ; and that all its landing-places are 
 within itself, and along the uttermost limits of its own territory. It 
 is no reproach against our philosophical moralists, that they have 
 not stepped beyond the threshold of that peculium, which is strictly 
 and appropriately theirs ; or not made incursion into another depart- 
 ment than their own. The legitimate complaint is, that, on taking 
 leave of then- disciples, they warn them not of their being only yet in 
 the outset or in the prosecution of a journey, instead of having reached 
 the termination of it. They, in fact, take leave of them in the middle 
 of an unprotected highway, when they should have raised a finger- 
 post of direction to the places that lie beyond. The paragraph which 
 we have now extracted* was just such a finger-post, though taken 
 down, we deeply regret to say, by the very hand that had erected it. 
 Our veneration for his name must not restrain the observation, that 
 by this he undid the very best service which a professor of moral sci- 
 ence can render to humanity. Along the confines of its domain, 
 there should be raised, in every quarter, the floating signals of distress, 
 that its scholars, instead of being lulled into the imagination that now 
 they may repose as in so many secure and splendid dwelling-places, 
 should be taught to regard them only as towers of observation, whence 
 
 * The reference is to a paragraph Avhich appeared in the first edition of Smith's 
 Theory of Moral Sentiments, but in subsequent editions was omitted, on the subject 
 of conscious guilt, and the natural suggestions of the human mind and corresponding, 
 discoveries of revelation, as to atonement. The paragraph is one of deep interest^ 
 though, as might have been expected, defective in its theology. It is given also by 
 the late Archbishop Magee, in his Discourses and Dissertations on Atonement anct 
 Sacrifice. Vol. I. pp. 209—211. 
 
292 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 they have to look for their ulterior guidance and their ulterior 
 supplies, to the region of a conterminous theology." 
 
 After presenting in another paragraph, briefly but beautifully, the 
 simple philosophy of the atonement, as exhibited in the New Testa- 
 ment, and as meeting one of the chief difficulties in " the theism of 
 nature/' the Doctor thus proceeds : — " This specimen will best illus- 
 trate of moral philosophy, even in its most finished state, that it is not 
 •vhat may be called a terminating science. It is at best but a science 
 in transitu; and its lessons are those of a preparatory school. It con- 
 tains but the rudiments of a nobler acquirement ; and he discharges 
 Dest the functions of a teacher, not who satiates but who excites the 
 appetite, and then leaves it wholly unappeased. This arises from the 
 real state and bearing of the science, as being a science, not so much 
 of doctrines as of desiderata. At most it leaves its scholars in a sort 
 of twilight obscurity ; and if a just account is rendered of the subject, 
 there will unavoidably be the feeling, that, instead of having reached 
 a secure landing-place, we have broken off as in the middle of an un- 
 finished demonstration."— Vol. II. pp. 298—301. 
 
 Many of the views in the chapter from which these extracts are 
 made, " On the Defects and Uses of Natural Theology," are exceed- 
 ingly important. It were well if the lessons of moral philosophy were 
 taught in the'manner thus described and recommended, — not as final, 
 but only as introductory and preparatory. Still, however, it ought 
 to be recollected, that there is a large proportion of students who at- 
 tend the Moral Philosophy class, who do not subsequently pass into the 
 province of a " conterminous theology ;" so that, even were the subjects 
 so treated, there would necessarily, to such youths, be a very grievous 
 defect ; adefect which, by leaving their minds under the influence of 
 partial impressions of truth, might be attended with not a few of the 
 consequences of error. The manner in which the subjects usually are 
 treated in the " prelections of academic theism" is, by strong implica- 
 tion, admitted to be injurious in its tendency even to those who do 
 take the further step of advancement — from the theism of the Ethical 
 Class-room to the Christianity of the Divinity-hall ; and instances in 
 verification of this are not wanting, to the lamentable paganizing of 
 pulpit instruction, by denuding Christianity of the uncompromising 
 peculiarity of its most essential articles, or by the accommodation of 
 them to cold philosophic theories. I confess myself strongly inclined 
 to the opinion, that if morals are not taken up distinctly and decidedly 
 Upon the principles of revelation, they had better, as subjects of pre- 
 lection to the young, be let alone altogether. Both natural religion 
 and morality belong properly to the province of theology. And not. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 293 
 
 only (as in a subsequent part of this series of Lectures I have endea- 
 voured to show) can there be no true morality without religion ; but 
 the teaching of moral virtues to sinful creatures, on grounds inde- 
 pendent of the mercy revealed by the gospel, is an inlet to the most 
 anti- scriptural and soul-ruining delusions. I cannot take lower 
 ground than this, without renouncing my Bible ; whose decisions, 
 with regard to the means of acceptance with God, I must regard as, 
 on that subject, the only philosophy, because the only truth. 
 
 Note D. Page 22. 
 
 On the early influence of Philosophy in corrupting Christianity ; — and on 
 the character and doctrines of the Schoolmen. — Mr. Douglas, Lord 
 Bacon, Archbishop Whately, Sir James Mackintosh. 
 
 Mr. Douglas, of Cavers, in his volume entitled "Errors in 
 Religion," has the following spirited remarks on the early influence 
 of philosophy, in adulterating the purity and obnubilating the sim- 
 plicity of the Christian doctrine: — "Independent of any direct 
 heresies, erroneous methods of considering Christianity became pre- 
 valent, from the indiscriminate study and admiration of Gentile 
 philosophy. Each of the. Christian Fathers, who affected a reputa- 
 tion for literature, naturally adopted the favourite opinions of some 
 philosophic school ; and thus every speculative sect came to mingle 
 theh own peculiar errors hi that incoherent and discordant mass of 
 opinions which formed the Christian literature of antiquity. Few 
 attempts have had less foundation to proceed upon than the endea- 
 vour to make the Christian Fathers pass for the supreme judges of 
 controversy and the oracles of religion. Nothing can be more vague 
 than theh conclusions, nor more weak than theh arguments, nor 
 more variable than the tendency of their writings. They might, 
 notwithstanding the weakness of their judgment, have been valuable, 
 as furnishing facts ; but in these they are lamentably deficient, and 
 hence the meagreness of church history. When appealed to as 
 authorities, they lend themselves by turns to every side ; when 
 resorted to for information, they furnish little but conjectures. It is 
 well, however, that Christianity should have small obligation to its 
 early advocates, and that religion should rest upon the power of 
 God, and not upon the authority of men. It is well also, that a 
 
294 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 great gulph should be placed between the inspired and the unin- 
 spired Christian writers. 
 
 " Many of the Fathers, as they are called, were but recent converts 
 from Paganism, who were better acquainted with the superstition 
 they had left than with the revelation they had embraced. Many 
 were more attentive to the study of philosophy than to the search of 
 scriptural truth. The caution of St. Paul was lost upon them, to 
 beware of ' science, falsely so called.' The emanative system, with 
 all its errors, spread far and wide, under the authority of Origen, 
 and with the aid of his allegorical interpretations. In the hands of 
 the master of Origen, Ammonius, and his fellow-disciple Plotinus, 
 the absurdities of Paganism, by the supposition of an inner sense 
 contained in them, had been made to coincide with the dreams of 
 philosophy. The truths of Christianity were now to be explained 
 away by the same subtle process." And, after a rapid enumera- 
 tion of some of the results of this and various other sources of 
 corruption, he adds : — " To sum up all, Aristotle, after stoutly de- 
 fending Paganism, at last lent the Christians his vexatious logic, to 
 exasperate the multitude of their disputes, and to split and subdivide 
 every error to infinity." — Pp. 55 — 57. 
 
 This leads us at once to the schoolmen, of whom, and of whose 
 labours the reader may take the following brief but forcible sketch 
 from the hand of an acknowledged master : — " Surely, like as many 
 substances in nature, which are solid, do putrefy and corrupt into 
 worms, so is it the property of good and sound knowledge to putrefy 
 and dissolve into a number of subtle, idle, unwholesome, and, as I 
 may term them, vermiculate questions, which have indeed a kind of 
 quickness, and life of spirit, biit no soundness of matter, or goodness 
 of quality ! This kind of degenerate learning did chiefly reign 
 amongst the schoolmen, who, having sharp and strong wits, and 
 abundance of leisure, and small variety of reading ; but their wits 
 being shut up in the cells of a few authors, chiefly Aristotle, their 
 dictator, as their persons were shut up in the cells of monasteries 
 and colleges ; and knowing little history, either of nature or of time, 
 did, out of no great quantity of matter, and infinite agitation of wit, 
 spin out unto us those laborious webs of learning, which are extant 
 in their books. For the wit and mind of man, if it work iipon 
 matter, which is the contemplation of the creatures of God, worketh 
 according to the stuff, and is limited thereby ; but if it work upon 
 itself, as the spider worketh his web, then it is endless, and brings 
 forth indeed cobwebs of learning, admirable for the fineness of thread 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. #95 
 
 and work, but of no substance or profit." — Lord Bacon — Proficiency 
 ■and Advancement of Learning. 
 
 "The schoolmen's waste of ingenuity and frivolous subtlety of 
 disputation," says Archbishop "Whately, "need not be enlarged 
 upon. It may be sufficient to observe, that their fault did not lie in 
 their diligent study of logic, and the high value they set upon it, but 
 ■on their utterly mistaking the true nature and object of the science : 
 and by the attempt to employ it for purposes of physical investiga- 
 tion, involving everything in a mist of words, to the exclusion of 
 sound philosophical investigation. Their errors may serve to account 
 for the strong terms in which Bacon sometimes appears to censure 
 logical pursuits ; but that this censure was intended to bear against 
 the extravagant perversions, not the legitimate cultivation of the 
 science, may be proved from his own observation on the subject, in. 
 his Advancement of Learning." — Elements of Logic, Intro d. pp. 8, 9. 
 
 "The schoolmen," says Sir James Mackintosh, " were prop erly 
 theologians, who employed philosophy only to define and support 
 that system of Christian belief which they and their contemporaries 
 had embraced. The scholastic system was a collection of dialectical 
 subtleties, contrived for the support of the corrupted Christianity of 
 that age, by a succession of divines, whose extraordinary powers of 
 distinction and reasoning were morbidly enlarged in the long medita- 
 tion of the cloister, by the exclusion of every other pursuit, and the 
 consequent palsy of every other faculty ; who were cut off from all 
 the materials on which the mind can operate, and doomed for ever 
 to toil in defence of what they must never examine ; to whom their 
 age and their condition denied the means of acquiring literature, of 
 observing nature, or of studying mankind." Of the middle age, 
 however, of which, as the age of darkness, we are wont to speak 
 with a mixed emotion of wonder, and scorn, and pity, he says, " It 
 is not unworthy of notice, on account of the subterranean current 
 which flows through it, from the speculations of ancient to those of 
 modern times. That dark stream must be uncovered before the 
 history of the European understanding can be thoroughly compre- 
 hended. It was lawful for the emancipators of reason, in their firs 
 struggles, to carry on deadly war against the schoolmen. The 
 necessity has long ceased, they are no longer dangerous ; and it is 
 now felt by philosophers, that it is time to explore and estimate that 
 vast portion of the history of philosophy, from which we have seorn- 
 fully turned our eyes." — Prelim. Dissert, sect. 3. 
 
296 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NoteE. Page 51. 
 
 On alleged Differences between the Theory of Cud worth and that of Clarke. 
 — Strictures on Sir James Mackintosh. 
 
 I have classed these three eminent -writers together, and have 
 given a very succinct statement of the general principles of their 
 system. — In terms of singular modesty, such as may -well make the 
 present writer fearful of the charge of presumption, Sir James 
 Mackintosh thus states -what appeared to him a difference of consi- 
 derable magnitude between the system of Cudworth and that of 
 Clarke : — " As far as it is not presumptuous to attempt a distinction 
 between modes of thinking foreign to the mind which makes the 
 attempt, and modes of expression scarcely translatable into the only 
 technical language in which that mind is wont to think, it seems 
 that the systems of Cudworth and Clarke, though they appear very 
 similar, are in reality different in some important points of view. 
 The former, a Platonist, sets out from those ideas, (a word, in this 
 acceptation of it, which has no corresponding term in English,) the 
 eternal models of created things which, as the Athenian master 
 taught, pre-existed in the everlasting intellect, and, of right, rule 
 the will of every inferior mind. The illustrious scholar of Newton, 
 with a manner of thinking more natural to his age and school, con- 
 sidered primarily the very relations of things themselves ; conceived, 
 indeed, by the Eternal Mind, but which, if such inadequate language 
 may be pardoned, are the lav/ of its will, as well as the model of its 
 works." — Prelim. Diss. p. 332. 
 
 The distinction thus expressed is one, it will readily be admitted, 
 rather too abstruse to be very readily, or very clearly apprehended ; 
 nor is it easy to think about it without the mind getting beAvildered, 
 or consequently to write about it in terms that shall convey concep- 
 tions sufficiently distinct. I would ask, however, with all diffidence 
 — If these "ideas," as the "eternal models of created things, 
 pre-existed in the Everlasting Intellect," must they not have been 
 the rules of the Divine will, when that will afterwards gave actual 
 being to those things of which they were the archetypal models ? A 
 model is a pattern or rule of procedure. If, in maldng the distinc- 
 tion, a "law of the Divine will" is intended to mean something 
 authoritative, by which the Divine will was obliged, or bound, — it is 
 evident, that there could be no authority extraneous to Deity, — and 
 no principles of rectitude but such as had their subsistence in the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 397 
 
 Divine Mind; so that a "law of the Divine will" could not, by- 
 possibility, have any other meaning than the necessity of a conformity 
 between these principles and every Divine volition. But whether we 
 speak of ideal models or of laics of the Divine will, this necessity is 
 obviously the same ; — there is the same necessary conformity between 
 the one or the other and those efficient volitions of Deity by which 
 actual existence is imparted. I cannot help thinking, indeed, that 
 there is in all this a confounding of things that differ. According to 
 Sir James, Clarke begins with, or primarily considers, the relations of 
 things themselves, while Cudworth sets out from the pre- exist ent models 
 of created things. Now I can understand the antithesis between the 
 model of a created thing and the created thing itself, — or (if the 
 language were admissible) between the model of a relation and the 
 relation itself; but the antithesis between the "models of created 
 things " and the "relations of things themselves," I am at a loss to 
 comprehend. It is not in existences, but in the relations subsisting 
 between them, that those fitnesses have place, or can possibly have 
 place, in conformity to which the theory of both Cudworth and 
 Clarke pronounces virtue to consist. If, on the one hand, the 
 models of created things are to be understood of the models of exist- 
 ences merely, apart from their relations, we can find no place there 
 for the principles of " eternal and immutable morality ; " — and if, 
 on the other, they are to be understood as comprehending relations, 
 then am I quite at a loss to conceive the difference, in regard to the 
 conclusions to which we must come, whether these relations be con- 
 sidered in themselves, or as pre-existing models in the Divine Mind. 
 "Where but in the Divine Mind could the relations of created things 
 subsist, before creation began? And whether viewed as ideally 
 subsisting there, or as actually arising out of creation, they are the 
 same relations, and every principle of reasoning about them must be 
 the same. — It is in an ethical point of view that Sir James Mackintosh, 
 from the very title of his dissertation, is considering the theories of 
 the two eminent men in question : — but, when he speaks of " the 
 very relations of Ihmgs themselves, as conceived in the Eternal 
 Mind, being the law of its will, as well as the model of its works," 
 we are tempted to remark, that in the " model of its works," when 
 thus set in contradistinction to the "law of its will," there is nothing 
 that belongs to the department of Ethics ; so that in fact, he states 
 the system of Clarke morally, and that of Cudworth only intellectually 
 and physically. I have spoken, indeed, of the "ideas or models of 
 created things being the rule of the Divine will hi the creation of 
 those things." By this, however, nothing more is meant, than that, 
 
298 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 in every act of creative will, there is a necessary conformity between 
 that which is brought into being and the ideal archetype of it pre- 
 viously in the Divine Mind. But in this there is nothing moral. 
 The necessity is only that which arises from the perfection of intelli- 
 gence and skill in the designing mind. That perfection cannot but do 
 what is intellectually and physically best. But in the other case, 
 the necessity is moral. The " eternal fitnesses " which, according to 
 the system of Clarke, correspond to the " relations of things " as 
 eternally present to the Divine Mind, are moral fitnesses ; and the 
 necessity of this correspondence is a moral necessity, arising from 
 the absolute perfection, in the mind where the relations and the 
 fitnesses are conceived, of moral rectitude ; — that rectitude being 
 nothing different from the necessary attributes of the necessarily 
 existent Being, which, as we may afterwards see, are themselves the 
 standard of moral principles to the universe. — These moral fitnesses 
 belong to Cudworth's system equally with Clarke's ; else it would 
 have nothing properly moral in it, but would be, in a sense widely 
 different from that in which he himself meant the designation, an 
 " intellectual system." 
 
 Sir James Mackintosh states the object and the reasoning of Cud- 
 worth, and comments upon them, thus : (The importance of the 
 citation must be my apology for the length of it : to abridge it would 
 neither be justice to the author nor to the scholiast) — "Protagoras 
 of old, and Hobbes, then alive, having concluded that right and 
 wrong were unreal, because they were not perceived by the senses, 
 and because all human knowledge consists in such perception, Cud- 
 worth attempts to confute them, by disproving that part of their 
 premises which forms the last stated proposition. The mind has 
 many conceptions (vo-oixara) which are not cognizable by the senses ; 
 and though they are occasioned by sensible objects, yet could not be 
 formed but by a faculty superior to sense. The conceptions of justice 
 and duty he places amongst them. The distinction of right from 
 wrong is discerned by reason ; and as soon as these words are de- 
 fined, it becomes evident that it would be a contradiction in terms to 
 affirm that any power, human or divine, could change their nature ; 
 or, in other words, make the same act to be just and unjust at the 
 same time. They had existed externally in the only mode in which 
 truth can be said to be eternal, in the Eternal Mind ; and they 
 were indestructible and unchangeable like that Supreme Intelligence. 
 
 " Whatever judgment may be formed of this reasoning, it is mani- 
 fest that it relates merely to the philosophy of the understanding, and 
 does not attempt any explanation of what constitutes the very essence 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 299 
 
 of morality, its relation to the will. That we perceive a distinction 
 between right and wrong, as much as between a triangle and a 
 square, is indeed true ; and may possibly lead to an explanation 
 of the reason why men should adhere to the one and avoid the other. 
 But it is not that reason. A command or a precept is not a propo- 
 sition. It cannot be said that either is true or false. Cudworth, as 
 well as many who succeeded him, confounded the mere apprehension 
 by the understanding that right is different from wrong, with the 
 practical authority of these important conceptions, exercised over 
 voluntary actions, in a totally distinct province of the soul." — Prelim. 
 Diss. p. 326. 
 
 I must confess myself at a loss to understand the force of this 
 objection. It seems plausible ; but I am mistaken if its plausibility 
 arises from any thing else than the form of its verbal statement. 
 Though Cudworth conceived right and wrong to be intellectually 
 discerned — "discerned by reason," — he certainly did not consider 
 that discernment as including in it no more than is contained in the 
 discernment of truth or falsehood in propositions. It should be 
 recollected that the subject is moral distinctions. That which is true 
 may be said to be right ; but right in this case means no more than 
 its being according to fact : — and that which is false may be said to 
 be wrong ; but in this case also, wrong means no more than its not 
 being according to fact. True and false propositions with regard to 
 mind may also be said, intellectually, to be right or wrong. But 
 when the terms right and wrong are used in application to morals, it 
 is impossible so to use them, without having in our minds, in con- 
 nexion with right, the idea of something we are under obligation to do, 
 or at least under no obligation not to do, — and with ivrong, of some- 
 thing Avhich we are under obligation not to do, or which we cannot 
 do without violating an obligation. "What difference is there, when 
 we are speaking of moral distinctions, between affirming a thing to 
 be right and affirming it to be a thing which we may or ought to do ; 
 or between affirming a thing to be wrong and affirming it to be a 
 thing which we ought not to do ? — Amongst conceptions that are 
 " not cognizable by the senses," but must be formed " by a faculty 
 superior to sense," Sir J. M. justly represents Cudworth as placing 
 "the conceptions of justice and duty." Ought he not to have per- 
 ceived that the very term duty is one that involves obligation ? The 
 conception of duty is the conception of what we are under obligation 
 to do. Does not what Sir James calls "the apprehension by the 
 understanding that right is different from wrong" mean identically 
 the same thing with the apprehension by the understanding that 
 
oOO NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 right is what ought to be done, and wrong what ought not to be 
 done? And have not the "important conceptions" of right and 
 wrong invariably involved in them the conception of " practical 
 authority r" If it be alleged, that discerning a tiling to be right is 
 merely discerning it to be in harmony with the eternal fitnesses of 
 things ; I contend that this very conformity includes the idea of 
 obligation. All morality has reference to -will. But, since the eternal 
 fitnesses of things arise from the unchangeable principles of moral 
 rectitude in Deity, to discern any thing to be according to these 
 fitnesses, is to discern it to be something with which the will of every 
 created intelligence ought to be in harmony. 
 
 There is a good deal, at the same time, in the general strain of 
 Cud worth's reasoning, that is apt to identify, in the reader's mind, 
 the impressions of truth and falsehood with those of moral right 
 and wrong. The cause of this, however, is obvious. It arises from 
 its being his main object to demonstrate, that moral distinctions are 
 perceived by the mind with the same intuition and the same cer- 
 tainty as first or necessary truths. His whole system rests on the 
 distinction, which he illustrates with an almost tiresome prolixity, 
 between sense and intellection. In the impressions it receives from 
 sense, the mind is passive ; and from this source there can be de- 
 rived only conceptions of individual things, existing extraneously to 
 the mind. He allows not to these conceptions, when they go no 
 further, the name of knowledge. What he regards as proper know- 
 ledge is composed of those general and universal truths which consist 
 in the clear conceptions of the mind acting within itself. Every thing, 
 according to him, is true, — certainly and necessarily true, — which is 
 clearly intelligible ; and clear intelligibility is the sole test and criterion 
 of truth. He repeats this frequently. In replying to the natural 
 question, " How a man shall know when his conceptions are con- 
 formed to the absolute and immutable natures or essences of tilings, 
 and their unchangeable relations to one another," — he says, "we 
 must not go about to look for the criterion of truth without our- 
 selves ;" and then, in further explanation, adds : — " The criterion of 
 true knowledge is not to be looked for any where abroad, without 
 our own minds, neither in the height above nor in the depth be- 
 neath, but only in our knowledge and conceptions themselves. For 
 the entity of all theoretical truth is nothing else but clear intelligi- 
 bility, and whatever is clearly conceived is an entity and a truth ; but 
 that which is false, Divine power itself cannot make it to be clearly 
 and distinctly understood, because falsehood is a nonentity, and a 
 clear conception is an entity ; and Omnipotence itself cannot make a 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. oOl 
 
 nonentity to be an entity." — Etern. and Immnt. Moral, pp. 271, 272. 
 " The true knowledge or science, which exists nowhere but in the 
 mind itself, has no other entity at all besides intelligibility ; and 
 therefore, whatsoever is clearly intelligible is absolutely true : — the 
 essence of falsehood consists in nothing else but non-intelligibility." 
 —Pp. 275, 276. 
 
 It is deserving of notice, that all the illustrations which he pro- 
 duces of these singular positions, are taken from those self-evident 
 propositions, the apposites of which involve a contradiction : — Quod 
 cogitat, est : — tequalia addita sequalibus efficiunt cequalia : — omnis 
 numerus est vel par vel impar : — nihili nulla est affectio, &c. — Pages 
 274, 281, &e. Whence we are led to conclude that the system 
 regards the mind's conceptions of essential moral truths as of the 
 tame clear and indubitable nature with these ; — the perceptions of 
 right and wrong as unavoidable as the perception of the truth of 
 self-evident propositions. Truth, according to Cudworth, does not 
 depend on the nature or make of the faculties ; but " be these facul- 
 ties what they will, clear, intellectual conceptions must of necessity 
 be truths, because they are real entities;" — and "whenever any 
 proposition is rightly understood by any one particular mind, what- 
 soever and wheresoever it be, the truth of it is no private tiling, nor 
 relative to that particular mind only, but it is a catholic and universal 
 truth, as the Stoics speak, throughout the whole world ; nay, it could 
 not fail to be a truth throughout infinite worlds, if there were so 
 many, to all such minds as should rightly understand it." — Pages 
 279, and 270, 271. But be the case what it may with regard to those 
 axiomatic truths, the supposition of wh^se opposites involves con- 
 tradiction, and which cannot but appear in the same light to every 
 mind that understands the terms ; it may still be a matter of question, 
 whether the same thing holds with regard to the great articles of 
 moral science, Cudworth himself, even after having affirmed that, be 
 our faculties what they " will, and let them be supposed to be made 
 how you will, yet, notwithstanding, whatsoever is clearly understood 
 and conceived has an objective entity in it, and must of necessity be 
 true ; for a clear conception cannot be nothing" (p. 277), makes the 
 following admission : — " It cannot be denied but that men are often- 
 times deceived, and think they clearly comprehend what they do 
 not." — P. 282. Now this simple admission appears tome to go near 
 to overturn, if it does not absolutely and entirely overturn, the whole 
 of this part of his theory. He adds, it is true, to the preceding admis- 
 sion the saving clause " — But it does not follow from hence, because 
 men sometimes think that they clearly comprehend what they do not, 
 
302 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 that therefore they can never be certain that they do clearly com- 
 prehend any thing." But this will not do : it will not keep the 
 theory afloat. For nothing can be more manifest, than that, if" men 
 are oftentimes deceived, and think they clearly comprehend what they 
 do not," distinct comprehension, or " clear intelligibility," cannot be 
 an infallible criterion of truth. Indeed, one cannot but be both 
 surprised and amused, after having had the position reiterated to 
 satiety, and with a confidence that seems to defy the possibility of 
 objection, that " clear intellectual conceptions," be the faculties of 
 the mind in which they exist what they may, " must of necessity be 
 truths," — to find the whole discussion closed with the admission, 
 that "men are oftentimes deceived, and think they clearly compre- 
 hend what they do not !" — for how, in such cases, is it to be deter- 
 mined whether then* comprehensions are, or are not, clear ? Is it by 
 some other mind ? May not that mind also be deceived ? 
 
 This theory, of clear intelligibility being the sure criterion of truth, 
 stands exposed moreover to the objection urged in the text against 
 the various systems of morals commented upon, that the understand- 
 ings whose clear comprehension is thus erected into an infallible 
 criterion of truth or falsehood arc understandings under the ob- 
 scuring and biassing influence of a depraved disposition ; the under- 
 standings not only of finite but of fallen creatures. How can it ever 
 be, that " clear intelligibility," ha such minds, should be the unerring 
 test of the true and the false, especially in regard to subjects on 
 which/of all others, the disposition operates with the largest measure 
 of perverting power ? 
 
 I would only further observe as to the general theory of Cudworth, 
 that it differs from that of Brown, in that the one founds virtue in 
 original conceptions, the other in original emotions. 
 
 Note F. Page 51. 
 
 On Dr. Clarke's comparison of Moral Truth a?id Mathematical 
 Certainty. — Objection of Sir James Mackintosh. 
 
 Having read the Dissertation of Sir James Mackintosh, subse- 
 quently to the time when this was written and delivered, I was- 
 startled by an objection which he urges against Clarke, for thus- 
 comparing moral truth with mathematical certainties : — " The adop- 
 tion," he says, " of mathematical forms and terms was, in England, 
 
fcOTES AND ILLUSTEATIOSS. 303 
 
 a prevalent fashion amongst writers on moral subjects, during a 
 large part of the eighteenth century. The ambition of mathematical 
 certainty on matters concerning which it is not given to man to 
 reach it, is a frailty from which the disciple of Newton ought in 
 reason to have been withheld, but to which he was naturally tempted 
 by the example of his master. Nothing but the extreme difficulty of 
 detaching assent from forms of expressions to which it has long been 
 wedded, can explain the fact, that the incautious expressions above 
 cited, into which Clarke was hurried by his moral sensibility, did 
 not awaken him to a sense of the error into which he had fallen. As 
 soon as he had said, that ' a wicked act was as absurd as an attempt 
 to take away the properties of a figure,' he ought to have seen, that 
 principles which led logically to such a conclusion were untrue. As 
 it is an impossibility to make three and three cease to be six, it 
 ought, on his principles, to be impossible to do a wicked act." — 
 Prelim. Dissert, p. 328. On the same principle, the comparison 
 which I have here used ought to be objectionable, as implying the 
 impossibility of the supposed irreverence of Deity. But this appears 
 to me to be a hypercritical refinement. There maybe an impropriety 
 and risk of error, in comparisons drawn from one science to another, 
 when the two are so widely dissimilar as geometry and morals : but 
 in the present instance, the meaning seems abundantly clear. The 
 impossibility expressed is not the impossibility of indulging a 
 Wicked disposition, or of doing a wicked act, — it is the impossibility 
 of harmonizing such a disposition, or such an act, with the assumed 
 eternal principles of morals, — these principles consisting in eternal 
 fitnesses to the relations of things as eternally subsisting in the 
 Divine mind. This is the impossibility which the comparison pro- 
 nounces to be as great as that of "taking away the properties of a 
 figure," or of filling a sphere with a cube. The inconsistency of the one 
 with those principles of morals that are founded in the eternal fit- 
 nesses of things, is as complete as is the inconsistency of the other 
 with the axiomatic and immutable principles of geometrical science. 
 
 " To act without regard to the relations of things," adds Sir James, 
 " as if a man were to choose fire for cooling, or ice for heating, would 
 be the part either of a lunatic or an idiot. The murderer who poisons 
 by arsenic acts agreeably to his knoAvledge of the power of that 
 substance to kill, which is a relation between two things ; as much 
 as the physician who employs an emetic after the poison, acts upon 
 the belief of the tendency of that remedy to preserve life, which is 
 another relation between two things. All men who seek a good or 
 bad end by good or bad means, must alike conform their conduct to 
 
301 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 some relation between their actions as means, and their object as an 
 end. All the relations of inanimate things to each other are un- 
 doubtedly observed as much by the criminal as by the man of 
 virtue." — Ibid. 
 
 When Dr. Clarke says that "a wicked act is as absurd as the 
 attempt to take away the properties of a figure," does he not mean 
 that the two are equally absurd in their respective departments? — that 
 the one is as preposterously contrary to those eternal fitnesses which 
 constitute the principles of morals, as the other is to those mathe- 
 matical relations which constitute the principles of geometry ? — does 
 not the very fact of his drawing a comparison, or borrowing an 
 analogy, from the one to the other, show, that he considered the two 
 descriptions of relations as essentially different, and moral relations, 
 though capable of such analogical illustration from geometrical, as 
 quite distinct from, and not in any way affected by them ? The 
 same is the case with regard to such physical relations as those to 
 which Sir James here refers. The fact that the murderer and the 
 physician act alike in conformity to such relations for their respective 
 ends, is so far from bringing their respective actions into identity, 
 or even alliance with each other, that I presume Dr. Clarke would 
 have taken an illustration of his position with the same readiness 
 from physical as from geometrical relations, and have pronounced the 
 act of murder as absurd a tiling in the department of morals, as, in 
 the department of physics, would be that of " choosing fire for 
 cooling, or ice for heating." But the very use of such a comparison 
 would have shown, in this case as in the other, that it is not on rela- 
 tions universally, and of whatever kind, that he founds the principles 
 of morals, but only on those descriptions of relations, in which the 
 idea of moral fitnesses is susceptible of application ; which in no 
 mind can ever be imagined the case, either with the relations of 
 abstract mathematics, or with those of the physical world. Dr. 
 Clarke may not have been sufficiently guarded in some of his modes 
 of expression and illustration — but possibly this might arise from his 
 not supposing that these different kinds of relations and fitnesses 
 could ever be confoimded. 
 
 "It is therefore singular," says Sir James, further, "that Dr. 
 Clarke suffered himself to be misled into the representation, that 
 virtue is a conformity to the relations of things universally, vice a 
 universal disregard of them, by the certain, but here insufficient 
 truth, that the former necessarily implied a regard to certain particular 
 relations, which were always disregarded by those who chose the 
 latter. The distinction between right and wrong can, therefore, no 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 305 
 
 longer depend on relations as such, but on a particular class of 
 relations. And it seems evident, that no relations are to be con- 
 sidered, except those in which a living, intelligent, and voluntary- 
 agent is one of the beings related." — Ibid. If Dr. Clarke would have 
 refused this, I have done with him. But I cannot imagine it. To 
 say that the relations on which virtue depends must be relations in 
 which "living, intelligent, and voluntary agents" have part, is no 
 more than to say that it is only such agents that are the subjects of 
 moral principle and moral responsibility. It never entered my mind 
 to imagine, that the relations and fitnesses in which the theory of 
 Clarke finds the principles of morals, were at all the relations between 
 the abstractions of geometry, or the lines and angles of practical 
 mathematics, or the fitnesses of fire to warm and of ice to cool, of 
 arsenic to kill, and of an emetic to cure : — and I have already said, 
 that the very way in which Clarke borrows from other departments 
 illustrations for his own, shows the contrary. The general system of 
 morals consists in conformity to eternal fitnesses, — fitnesses, that is, 
 of certain modes of sentiment and feeling, and certain actions and 
 courses of conduct, to certain relations ; not, surely, relations which 
 are entirely extraneous to the department of moral agency, but all the 
 relations in which such agency is possible, or by which it is in any- 
 way affected. On these universally the general system of morals 
 rests ; and in conformity to these universally virtue, considered 
 generally, consists ; while particular virtues consist more especially 
 in conformity to particular relations : — just as, in geometry, the 
 science itself rests on a variety of axioms, or first principles ; whilst 
 the truth or falsehood of certain problems is demonstrated by, and 
 turns upon, their agreement or disagreement with one or more of 
 these. 
 
 When Sir James adds—" The term relation itself, on which Dr. 
 Clarke's system rests, being common to right and wrong, must be 
 struck cut of the reasoning," — I would simply ask, in what sense it 
 is that the term is "common to right and wrong," when virtue is 
 defined to consist in conformity, and vice in disconformity to these 
 relations ? It seems to be little better than trifling to say, that vice 
 consists in conformity to relations as well as virtue, because the 
 murderer proceeds upon the relation between arsenic and the consti- 
 tution of the human body. To me, indeed, it appears that some con- 
 fusion of ideas, and some injustice to the theory, have arisen from the 
 different meanings of the term fitness. By the writer of the article 
 " Moral Philosophy," in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, it is stated as 
 an objection, that fit must of course mean fit for some end; fitness 
 I- X 
 
806 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 ■which respects no end being inconceivable. Encyel. Brit. Vol. XIV. 
 p. 361. But is not this, on such a subject, a somewhat unfair appli- 
 cation of the terra fitness t It is understood as signifying adaptation to 
 an end: — but in the theory of Clarke, its true meaning is congruity 
 with existing relations. This is a sense of the word equally legitimate 
 -with the other. Yet it has been said, by the writer referred to, that 
 " to allege of any action that it is^, and yet not fit for any particular 
 purpose, is as absurd as to say that the angles at the base of an 
 isosceles triangle arc equal, but "neither to each other nor to any other 
 angles." But this proceeds quite on a misunderstanding of the 
 proper meaning of fitness, as the term is used in the theory : — for an 
 action may he fit, as being in congruity with a paHicidar relation, and 
 may be so contemplated by the theorist, without his haying in his 
 mind at all its adaptation for any particular purpose. — " If it be 
 said," observes this writer, "that such actions are fit and right, 
 because they tend to promote the harmony of the world and the 
 welfare of mankind, this may be granted ; but it overturns the 
 intellectual theory from the foundations ; actions which are fit and 
 right only for their consequences, are approved and liked for the sake 
 of their consequences," &c. — All true. But does not this representa- 
 tion discover a misapprehension of the true principle of the system ; 
 and this misapprehension arising from a very unaccountable inad- 
 vertency as to the meaning of the terms fit and fitness ? And yet, 
 unaccountable as this inadvertency is, Dr. Brown himself, in his 
 strictures on the theory of Clarke, appears to be, very inexcusably, 
 chargeable with it. Having represented this theory as " supposing 
 virtue to consist in the regulation of our conduct according to certain 
 fitnesses which we perceive in things, or a peculiar congruity of 
 certain relations to each other," — (a representation in which he 
 seems to take the term fitness in the sense in which the theorist 
 evidently intended it to be understood,) — he afterwards shifts to the 
 other meaning of it, and speaks of fitness as if it meant adaptation to 
 an end ; observing that " it is to the good or evil of the end that we 
 look, and that we must always look, in estimating the good or evil 
 of the fitness itself;" and that " if it be the nature of the end which 
 gives value to the fitness, it is not the fitness, but the end to which 
 the fitness is subservient, that must be the true object of moral 
 regard." It was certainly paying no compliment to the sagacity of 
 Dr. Clarke, to imagine that he coidd have founded virtue in fitnesses, 
 understanding the term of adaptation to ends, without perceiving that 
 in that case the excellence of virtue depended upon the end, and 
 that his theory resolved itself into that of utility. And yet, on the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 307 
 
 credit of this being the sense in which the word fitness is to be un- 
 derstood, does Dr. Brown sum up his strictures on Clarke's system, 
 in the following (as they appear to me on the ground just mentioned) 
 unwarrantably disrespectful terms : — " Since every human action, in 
 producing any effect whatever, must be hi conformity with the 
 fitnesses of things, the limitation of virtue to actions which are in 
 conformity with these fitnesses, has no meaning, unless we have 
 previously distinguished the ends which are morally good from the 
 ends which are morally evil, and limited the conformity of which we 
 speak to the one of these classes. In this case, however, the theory 
 of fitnesses, it is evident, far from accounting for the origin of moral 
 distinctions, proceeds on the admission of them : it pre-supposes a 
 distinctive love of certain virtuous ends, by their relations to which 
 all the fitnesses of actions are to be measured ; and the system of 
 Dr. Clarke, therefore, if stripped of its pompous phraseology, and 
 translated into common language, is nothing more than the very 
 simple truism, or tautology, that to act virtuously is to act in con- 
 formity to virtue." — Brown's Lectures, Lect. 76. I appeal to the 
 reader, whether this reduction of the theory of Clarke to a worthless 
 truism, be not founded rather in the misrepresentation, on the part 
 of the commentator, of the chief term he has employed in propound- 
 ing it, than in the faultiness of the theory itself. My object is not to 
 uphold it ; but to do justice to its acute and able author. Let the 
 term fitness be understood as meaning congruity with relations, rather 
 than adaptation to ends, — and the contemptuous estimate of the 
 theory, which has just been quoted, loses its basis. 
 
 Note G. Page 66. [Second Edition.] 
 
 On Dr. Brown's illustrations of his Theory of Virtue as a mere 
 Relation. 
 
 There were here introduced, in the first edition, the following 
 sentences: — "He adds, 'Though the three sides of a right-angled 
 triangle exist hi a triangle itself, and constitute it what it is, what 
 we term the properties of such a triangle do not exist hi it, but are 
 results of a peculiar capacity of the comparing mind.' I confess 
 myself not metaphysician enough to comprehend how ' the com- 
 paring mind' should discover the properties of a right-angled triangle, 
 
308 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 unless they ' existed in it ; ' — and it appears to me, moreover, ex- 
 ceedingly incorrect to say, that the three sides of the triangle, which 
 are admitted in it, ' constitute it what it is,' seeing the property of 
 having three sides is common to all triangles, and not peculiar to the 
 rectangular, — and that the rectangular triangle • is constituted what 
 it is,' not by this common property, but by those very peculiar 
 properties which are alleged not to exist in it, but to be merely 
 relative to a certain capacity of our minds. "Were this not the case, 
 then there might exist, or be imagined, a right-angled triangle 
 without those properties : that is, but for the ' peculiar capacity of 
 the comparing mind,' there might be a right-angled triangle, of 
 which the three angles were not equal to two right angles. To my 
 mind it appears, that the comparison is all against the theory ; and 
 that, as this distinguishing property is essential to the very nature 
 of a right-angled triangle, so is there something essential in the 
 nature of moral rectitude, in the distinctions of right and wrong. 
 Nor am I able to conceive what it is for an agent to be virtuous or 
 vicious, if there be no abstract principles of virtue and vice, in con- 
 formity to which the character or the agent consists." 
 
 I might have satisfied myself with simply leaving out this passage, 
 so that no reader of the second edition might have known of its 
 existence. I reckon it, however, the duty of an author, when he 
 discovers that, in censuring the statements of another, his own are 
 in fault, ingenuously to acknowledge it. Now, not only have I 
 fallen into the unaccountable inadvertency of writing, instead of 
 the property of the square of the hypothenuse being equal to the 
 squares of the other two sides, Which is truly distinctive of the rect- 
 angular triangle, the property of the equality of the three angles to 
 two right angles, which is not distinctive of any one triangle, but 
 common to all ; — this might easily have been rectified : but there is 
 a fallacy in the objection to Dr. Brown's statement, of which, on 
 reconsideration, I am sensible. The Doctor, it is true, has himself 
 in part led me into it, by speaking of the three sides of the rectangular 
 triangle as " constituting it what it is ;" inasmuch as it is not by the 
 three sides, which all triangles have, but by the relative position of 
 the sides to one another, or by the one circumstance (from which it 
 has its name) of its having in it a right angle, that it is distinguished 
 from other triangles, and so constituted what it is. — But in saying 
 this, I have stated my own error as well as his. The property, that 
 the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other 
 two sides, is not the property which constitutes the rectangular 
 triangle what it is. Such a triangle is constituted what it is, by the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 309 
 
 simple fact of two of its three sides being at right angles to each 
 other, and would have continued what it is for ever, by this relative 
 position of its sides, although the property of the equality of the one 
 square and the two squares had never been discovered ; — although 
 the " comparing mind" had never thought of or demonstrated such 
 a problem. 
 
 While I acknowledge this inadvertency, and, on account of it, 
 have expunged the passage, the admission, let it be understood, is 
 not one which at all affects the conclusiveness of my reasoning. To 
 say, as Dr. Brown does, that the property in question is "the result 
 of a peculiar capacity of the comparing mind," is to say that the 
 property had no existence previously to its discovery by the com- 
 paring mind. But if this were true, it is not easy to imagine how 
 it could ever have been discovered. It was, most assuredly, a truth 
 antecedently to the discovery of it — (may we not even say, on ab- 
 stract principles, an eternal truth?) — that in a right-angled triangle, 
 the square of the one side was equal to the squares of the other two. 
 Had it not been previously true, no comparing mind ever could 
 have found it out ; and though no comparing mind had ever found 
 it out, it would not on that account have been the less true. I 
 speak with diffidence ; but I cannot but consider Dr. Brown, acute 
 metaphysician as he was, as most strangely misled, in the whole 
 passage where this comparison occurs, by the influence of predilec- 
 tion for a theory. " It is man," he says, " or some thinking being 
 like man, whose comparison gives birth to the feeling that is termed 
 by us a discovery of the equality of the square of one of the sides to 
 the squares of the other two !" A feeling is to be understood as 
 synonymous with a notion ; for he afterwards speaks of the "feelings 
 excited in the contemplating mind," as being " notions of equality 
 and proportion." Now it seems reasonable to think, that the thing 
 of which the contemplating mind obtains the notion, must have had 
 existence before the notion of it was obtained ; else the notion must 
 have had a notion of nothing. That which is discovered, and the 
 discovery of it, are surely not the same thing. We call the thing 
 discovered a discovery ; but we do not mean by this that it is a mere 
 feeling or notion in the mind, and has no truth and no existence out of 
 the mind and independently of it. The discovery, in the present case, 
 is to be found in the demonstrated problem ; and, on the assumption 
 of the correctness of the demonstration, it stands a truth, independ- 
 ently of the feelings of any particular mind, or of all minds. " If 
 the feeling of the relation never had arisen, and never were to arise, 
 in any mind, though the squares themselves might still exist as sepa- 
 
310 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 rate figures, their equality would be nothing." Nothing! Would it 
 not be " their equality?" and what else is there in question ? Would 
 it not have been true, that the one square was equal to the other two 
 squares, if no mind had ever perceived the equality ? Is not the 
 affirmation that unless the relation had been perceived by some 
 " comparing mind," the " equality would have been nothing," equi- 
 valent to the affirmation that there really was nothing for the com- 
 paring mind to perceive ? The proposition, that the square of the 
 hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other two sides, is a pro- 
 position which does not surely express a relation between the figure 
 of a right-angled triangle and the comparing mind, but a relation 
 between the component sides of such a triangle to each other : — and 
 if this relation did not subsist previously to the comparing mind's 
 discovering it, I am at a loss to know what there was for the com- 
 paring mind to discover ; how, consequently, the discovery could 
 have been made ; or (which, according to Dr. Brown, is the same 
 thing), how the feeling of the relation could ever, in any mind, have 
 arisen. " Certain geometrical figures cannot be contemplated by us, 
 without exciting certain feelings of the contemplating mind, — which 
 are notions of equality or proportion. Is it necessary that the 
 equality should be itself something existing in the separate figures 
 themselves, without reference to any mind that contemplates them, 
 before we put any confidence in geometry? Or is it not enough, 
 that every mind which does contemplate them together is impressed 
 with that particular feeling, in consequence of which they are ranked 
 as equal?" But these, I would say, with all due deference, are not 
 questions in point. The proper question is, IIoio comes it, that certain 
 geometrical figures cannot be contemplated by us without exciting 
 notions of equality and proportion ? Can this arise from any other 
 cause than that the equality and proportion do actually belong, as 
 properties, to the figures themselves ? Suppose it were granted that 
 it is not necessary to our "putting confidence in geometry," that 
 *' the equality should be itself something existing in the separate 
 figures themselves;" still we must affirm, this existence of the 
 equality in the figures themselves is necessary to account for the 
 fact, that " every mind that does contemplate them together is im- 
 pressed with that particular feeling, in consequence of which they 
 are ranked as equal" — that is, is impressed with the notion of their 
 equality. — But is it a fact that every contemplating mind is so im- 
 pressed ? The proposition, that " in every right-angled triangle the 
 square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other sides," 
 is certainly not a proposition whose truth is self-evident. And if the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 311 
 
 relation which it expresses be not a relation existing in the figure 
 itself, but a relation only between the figure and the perceiving mind, 
 and which has no subsistence except as so perceived, then how is the 
 truth of the demonstration in the 37th Proposition of the first Book 
 of Euclid to be ascertained ? Is it by the numerical proportion of 
 minds in which the "feeling is excited," or the notion produced, of 
 equality? If the "equality be nothing" except as perceived, and 
 the relation be one that is only in the mind, — then in regard to every 
 mind that cannot follow the geometrical demonstration, and perceive 
 the quod erect demonstrandum, the relation expressed in the proposition 
 is not merely an existing relation not perceived, but it is a relation 
 which has no existence. And, although the non-existence of it in one 
 mind cannot disprove the existence of it in another, yet the mind in 
 which the notion of the relation does not arise, or the feeling of it is 
 not excited, has the very same evidence of its non-existence, as the 
 mind in which the notion does arise has of its existence. The bear- 
 ing of this discussion on the important subject of morals, I must 
 leave the reader to gather from the argument in the text with which 
 it stands connected. Dr. Brown's object is to show that, as equality 
 and proportion are not relations subsisting in geometrical figures 
 themselves, but are mere relations between the figures and certain 
 feelings or notions of the comparing mind ; so right and wrong are 
 nothing hi themselves, or " existing in individual agents," but merely 
 relations between certain actions and courses of action, and certain 
 mental emotions. If he fails in establishing the one, he equally fails 
 in establishing the other. I still think, that the illustrative com- 
 parison is a very unfortunate one, and " all against the theory." 
 
 Note II. Page 76. [Second Edition.] , 
 
 On Mr. Ilimie's Theory of Utility ; — Reply to Strictures of Christian 
 Journal. 
 
 Ik the observations here made in justice to Mr. Hume's theory, I 
 have proceeded on the assumption (page 73), that "hi the whole dis- 
 cussion it ought to be previously understood, that, when we treat of 
 virtue, we treat of what relates to the feelings and actions of living, 
 conscious, voluntary agents.'" On this it has been said : — It is obvious 
 
812 KOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 to ask in reply, Why ought it to be understood and assumed, that 
 virtue relates exclusively to the actions of voluntary agents ? Why 
 ought it to be understood, that our ideas of virtue are restricted to 
 one department of nature ? No reason can be assigned on the theory 
 of utility. On that theory, the assumption is arbitrary ; for, if utility 
 is of the essence of virtue, — if usefulness is that which constitutes 
 virtue, then there is no reason why virtue should be limited to one 
 department of nature, any more than usefulness which constitutes it 
 what it is. The absence of voluntary choice might deprive us of a 
 virtuous agent, but not of a virtuous effect. In short, on the theory 
 of utility, virtue ought to inhere in an effect, irrespective of moral 
 agency or voluntary choice. * * * The great objection to the theory 
 of utility is, that it makes virtue nothing irrespective of its effects ; 
 that it makes its nature, its essence, and its excellence, dependent on 
 its effects, instead of making its tendencies and effects result from its 
 nature." — Christian Journal for February, 1834, Rev. of Christian 
 Ethics. 
 
 This is ingenious and plausible ; but I still think fallacious. In 
 answer to the questions, " Why ought it to be understood and 
 assumed, that virtue relates exclusively to the actions of voluntary 
 agents ? Why ought it to be understood that our ideas of virtue are 
 restricted to one department of nature ? " I would answer — for the 
 very same reason for which we distinguish, and treat distinctly, the 
 various departments or kingdoms of the physical creation. We con- 
 sider virtue as belonging to the intelligent and rational creation, or in 
 one word, to mind, as naturally and confidently as we consider exten- 
 sion, figure, impenetrability, to belong to the physical and material 
 creation, or in one word, to matter. Virtue, it appears to me, pertains 
 as exclusively to the mental department, as the qualities enumerated 
 pertain to the material. If, because virtue consists in utility, it fol- 
 lowed that whatever is useful has in it the essence of virtue, — the 
 sequence would appear to me the same as this other sequence, that 
 whatever is useful in the department of matter must have in it what 
 belongs exclusively to the department of mind, — nay, must even be 
 that which can have no existence except in mind. Now, would not 
 this be about as reasonable as to say, that whatever is useful in any 
 one of the subdivisions of physical nature may be fairly predicted to 
 be whatever you will that has the attribute of usefulness in another ? 
 
 It may perhaps be answered, that there is a difference between a 
 thing's being useful and its virtue consisting essentially in its usefulness. 
 The latter being the position, does it not, it may be said, clearly 
 follow, that whatever is useful possesses that in which virtue essen- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 3J3 
 
 tlalhj consists ? which amounts to the same thing as its having in it 
 the essence of virtue ? The whole of this, however, seems to me to 
 turn upon the inadvertency of speaking of a virtuous action, as if such 
 an action could subsist independently of a virtuous agent. But there 
 can be no such thing. (See Christian Ethics, Introd. to Lecture II.) 
 Even upon the system of utility, an action, I apprehend, may be a 
 useful action without being a virtuous action. Every action must be 
 the action of an agent. There can be no virtue in an action, except 
 as the action of an agent. If, therefore, there can be no virtue in an 
 action but as the action of an agent, must not the virtue of the action, 
 so considered, properly consist, not in the actual utility or beneficial 
 effect, but in the agent's regard to that utility ? in the action's being 
 done with a view to that beneficial effect ? The quality of virtue lies 
 not properly in the action but in the agent ; and when we speak of a 
 virtuous action, we invariably have respect to the state of the agent's 
 mind in the doing of it. So that the utility, on account of which 
 (according to this theory) we approve an action as virtuous, must be 
 the utility in the intention of the agent. When evil results from an 
 action, we do not on that account pronounce it vicious, if we are 
 assured that so far from the evil having been contemplated by the 
 agent, he intended the very opposite good; and when good is the 
 result of an action, neither do we on that account pronounce it vir- 
 tuous, if we know that the agent meant it for evil. — These statements 
 seem to me in harmony with every fair and candid view of the utili- 
 tarian theory. And if so, they sufficiently show that virtue, in its 
 own proper department, might consist in utility, without the sequence 
 following, that utility in every other department must constitute 
 virtue. "The absence of voluntary choice," says the Reviewer, 
 "might deprive us of a virtuous agent, but not of a virtuous effect." 
 On the principles laid down, there can be no such thing as a " vir- 
 tuous effect." Nay, the effect may even be that which constitutes 
 the action virtuous, and yet have no virtue in itself; nor does the 
 virtue even of the action lie simply in its producing the effect ; but, 
 considered as the action of a virtuous agent (the only rational sense 
 in which it can be called a virtuous action) its virtue lies, as has 
 been said, in the effect as contemplated and intended by the agent. 
 I do not at present see it to be at all a fair conclusion against the 
 utilitarian system (though I reject it on other grounds), that it makes 
 virtue "inhere in its effects." The virtue must besought in the 
 agent who does the action ; and it is the virtue in the agent that 
 imparts virtue to his action ; the action cannot be taken apart from 
 the agent, and possess virtue in itself ; still less can there be virtue 
 
314 NOTES AND ILLUSTBATIONS. 
 
 in the effect resulting from the action, considered in itself, — that is, 
 abstractedly from the intention of the agent. The fundamental prin- 
 ciple of the utilitarian theory, as stated (page 76), seems to me to be, 
 " that in the actions of voluntary agents (in which alone, any moral 
 principle, whether good or evil, is to be sought, the virtue consists in 
 the good or benefit to which, in the purpose of the agent, they tend." 
 While I cannot, on the grounds stated in the Lectures, approve of 
 the system, I would not do it injustice, by imputing to it consequences 
 which are not legitimate. 
 
 Note I. Paso 9-i. 
 
 On Bishop Butler s comparison of the Mental Constitution to a Watch, 
 and of Conscience to its ruling power. — Dr. Chalmers. 
 
 The defect in Butler here complained of is in part supplied by the 
 following amplification of the illustrative case selected by the Bishop. 
 The citation is from Dr. Chalmers's Bridgewater Treatise, Part I. 
 chap. i. pp. 64 — 67. " Here it is of capital importance to distinguish 
 between an original and proper tendency, and a subsequent aberra- 
 tion. This has been well illustrated by the regulator of a watch, 
 whose office and primary design, and that obviously announced by 
 the relation in which it stands to the other parts of the machinery, is 
 to control the velocity of its movements. And we should still per- 
 ceive this to have been its destination, even though, by accident or 
 decay, it had lost the power of command which at the first belonged 
 to it. We should not misunderstand the purpose of its maker, 
 although, in virtue of some deterioration or derangement which the 
 machinery had undergone, that purpose were now frustrated. And 
 we could discern the purpose in the very make and constitution of 
 the mechanism. We might even see it to be an irregular watch ; 
 and yet this needs not prevent us from seeing, that, at its original 
 fabrication, it was made for the purpose of moving regularly. The 
 mere existence and position of the regulator might suffice to indicate 
 this ; although it had become powerless, either from the wearing of 
 the parts, or from some extrinsic disturbance to which the instru- 
 ment had been exposed. The regulator, in this instance, may be 
 said to have the right, though not the power of command over the 
 movements of the time-piece ; yet the loss of the power lias not 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 315 
 
 obliterated the vestiges of the right ; so that, by the inspection of 
 the machinery alone, we both learn the injury that has been done to 
 it, and the condition in which it originally came from the hand of 
 its maker — a condition of actual as well as rightful supremacy, on 
 the part of the regulator, oyer all its movements. And a similar 
 discovery may be made, by examination of the various parts and 
 principles which make up the moral system of man ; for we see 
 various parts and principles there. We see ambition, having power 
 for its object, and without the attainment of which it is not satisfied; 
 and avarice, having wealth for its object, without the attainment of 
 which it is not satisfied ; and benevolence, having for its object the 
 good of others, without the attainment of which it is not satisfied ; 
 and the love of reputation, having for its object their apjfiause, 
 without which it is not satisfied ; and lastly, to proceed no farther in 
 the enumeration, conscience, which surveys and superintends the 
 whole man, and whose distinct and appropriate object is to have the 
 entire control both of its inward desires and of its outward doings ; 
 and without the attainment of this it is thwarted from its proper aim, 
 and remains unsatisfied. Each appetite or affection of our nature 
 hath its own distinct object ; but this last is the object of conscience, 
 which may be termed the moral affection. The place which it occu- 
 pies, or rather which it is felt that it should occupy, and which 
 naturally belongs to it, is that of a governor, claiming the superiority, 
 and taking to itself the direction over all the other powers and pas- 
 sions of humanity. If this superiority be denied to it, there is a felt 
 violence done to the whole economy of man. The sentiment is, that 
 the spring is not as it should be ; and even after conscience is forced, 
 in virtue of some subsequent derangement, from this station of right- 
 ful ascendancy, we can still distinguish between what is the primitive 
 design or tendency, and what is the posterior aberration. "We can 
 perceive in the case of a deranged or distempered watch, that the 
 mechanism is out of order ; but even then, on the bare examination 
 of its workmanship, and more especially from the place and bearing 
 of its regulator, we can pronounce that it was made for moving 
 regularly. And in like manner, on the bare inspection of our mental 
 economy alone, and more particularly from the place which con- 
 science has there, can we, even in the case of the man who refuses 
 to obey its dictates, affirm that he was made for walking conscien- 
 tiously." 
 
 The general truth of this representation, I am far from being 
 disposed to question ; nor is it at all inconsistent with any of my 
 statements. My object is to show, that conscience is not to be 
 
316 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 depended upon as an infallible standard of right and wrong. Dr. 
 Chalmers says, (page 91,) "In every case, where the moral sense is 
 unfettered by these associations," (various perverting influences 
 which he had enumerated,) " and the judgment is uncramped, either 
 by partialities or interest, or by the inveteracy of national customs 
 which habit and antiquity have rendered sacred, conscience is found 
 to speak the same language, nor, to the remotest ends of the world, 
 is there a country or an island where the same uniform and con- 
 sistent voice is not heard from her. Let the mists of ignorance and 
 passion, and artificial education, be only cleared away ; and the 
 moral attributes of goodness and righteousness and truth be seen 
 undistorted and in their own proper guise ; and there is not a heart 
 or a conscience throughout earth's teeming population, which would 
 refuse to do them homage. And it is precisely because the Father of 
 the human family has given such hearts and conscience to all his 
 children, that we infer these to be the very sanctities of the Godhead, 
 the very attributes of his own primeval nature." — But to what more 
 does this amount, than that, if all biassing and perverting influences 
 were withdrawn, and men were fully and universally under the 
 dominance of knowledge and right affections, conscience would 
 operate rightly and uniformly? This is confirmatory of my posi- 
 tions, not against them. 
 
 Note K. Page 134. 
 On Sir James Mackintosh' s Theory of Conscience. 
 
 " Sir James Mackintosh," says Dr. Chalmers, " tells vis of the 
 generation of human conscience ; and not merely states, but endea- 
 vours to explain, the phenomenon of its felt supremacy within us." — 
 Bridgio. Treat, p. 60. Conscience is not regarded by Sir James as 
 either origincd or wicompounded. — He speaks of it as " the acquired, 
 perhaps, but tmiversalhj and necessarily acquired, faculty of con- 
 science." — Prelim. Diss. p. 3G8. And although in this sentence he 
 seems to speak hesitatingly, the "perhaps'* only expresses the 
 modesty of the philosopher in differing from others, not a feeling of 
 scepticism as to the validity of his own theory ; for, in introducing 
 his remarks on the composition or generation of conscience, he speaks 
 of the principle of it as " a most important consideration, which had 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 817 
 
 escaped Hartley, as well as every other philosopher. " — In explaining 
 how conscience is acquired, he shows at the same time that he con- 
 sidered it not as simple but compounded. "The language of all 
 mankind," says he, "implies that the moral faculty, whatever it 
 may be, and from what origin soever it may spring, is intelligibly and 
 properly spoken of as one." — But though thus properly spoken of as 
 one, it is not, according to him, because it is originally one. " It is 
 as common," he adds, " in mind as in matter for a compound to have 
 properties not to be found in any of its constituent parts : " — " origi- 
 nally separate feelings may be so perfectly blended by a process 
 performed in every mind, that they can no longer be disjoined from 
 each other, but must always co-operate, and thus reach the only 
 union which we can conceive." — P. 368. The next question, there- 
 fore, is, what is the composition of this moral faculty ? what are its 
 constituent elementary principles? — "The truth seems to be, that 
 the moral sentiments, in their mature state, are a class of feelings 
 which have no other object but the mental dispositions leading to voluntary 
 action, and the voluntary actions which flow from these dispositions. We 
 are pleased with some dispositions and actions, and displeased with 
 others, in ourselves and our fellows. We desire to cultivate the 
 dispositions, and to perform the actions, which we contemplate with 
 satisfaction. These objects, like all those of human appetite or 
 desire, are sought for their own sakes." — P. 346. " The sentiment 
 of moral approbation, formed by association out of antecedent affec- 
 tions, may become so perfectly independent of them, that we are no 
 longer conscious of the means by which it was formed, and never 
 can in practice repeat, though we may in theory perceive, the process 
 by which it was generated. It is in that mature and sound state of 
 our nature, that our emotions at the "view of right and wrong are 
 ascribed to conscience.'" — P. 368. 
 
 In one view of it, this theory seems to bear a pretty close affinity 
 to that of Dr. Brown, — namely, in that it finds the origin of our 
 moral judgments in certain feelings or emotions. "We are pleased 
 with some dispositions and actions, and displeased with others, in 
 ourselves and our fellows." This pleasure and displeasure are thus 
 imputed to certain primary principles of our constitution, even the 
 elementary feelings which are conceived to enter into the ultimate 
 composition of conscience. Why we are thus pleased or displeased, 
 it does not, so far as I observe, form any part of the theory to 
 explain. We are so constituted. This class of feelings have their 
 appropriate objects and sources of gratification, like all the other 
 natural appetites and desires. Their distinguishing peculiarity is, 
 
318 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 that "their gratification requires the use of no means." " Nothing 
 stands between the moral sentiments and their object. They are, as 
 it were, in contact with the will." They are the only description of 
 desires and aversions of which "volitions and actions are themselves 
 the end, or last object in view." Still they are primary feelings, 
 seated hi our constitution, and by the laws of that constitution asso- 
 ciated with certain emotions, according as the objects with which 
 they come into contact are agreeable or disagreeable, in harmony or 
 in dissonance with them. — This bears a close analogy to Dr. Brown's 
 theory of primary and constitutional emotions of approbation and 
 disapprobation, which are with him the grounds of our moral 
 judgments. — Sir James speaks of conscience, accordingly, as being 
 " made up of emotions," — and of a " fitness to excite approbation as 
 a relation of objects to our susceptibility." — P. 393. I would speak 
 with diffidence ; but there does appear to me some confusion of 
 ideas in the representation given of conscience in the passage where 
 this phraseology occurs : "That the main, if not sole, object of 
 conscience is to govern our voluntary exertions, is manifest. But 
 how could it perform this great function, if it did not impel the will? 
 and how could it have the latter effect as a mere act of reason, or 
 indeed in any respect otherwise than as it is made up of emotions, 
 by which alone its grand aim could in any degree be attained?" — 
 P. 193. Is there no difference, then, between governing and im- 
 2)elling? or is it necessary that the impelling and the governing 
 power be the same? Are the regulator and the main- spring in a 
 watch the same ? The latter impels, the former governs. That a 
 power should impel which is "made up of emotions," is certainly 
 very conceivable ; but I can hardly imagine anything more unfit for 
 governing. The emotions of which the power is supposed to be 
 made up come more appropriately, I should think, among the things 
 to be controlled and governed. And surely a principle into which 
 judgment and reason enter is much better adapted for the exercise of 
 rule and government, than one that is " made up of emotions." Tho 
 affections and dispositions are the immediate impulses to volition 
 and action. It is the province, or part of the province, of conscience 
 to control and regulate these very impulses ; — and instead of speaking 
 of it as made up of emotions, were I to represent it as made up of 
 anything, it would be rather of convictions, or decisions of the judg- 
 ment with regard to right and wrong. Not that I would exclude 
 from the import of the term the emotions, of pleasure on the one 
 hand, and pain on the other, produced by the testimony of conscience 
 that we have done right, or that we have done wrong. But these 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 319 
 
 are emotions of quite a different nature from those of which Sir 
 James insists that conscience must be made up, in order to lit it for 
 "governing our actions" by "impelling our will." They are 
 emotions stcbseouent to both the volition and the action. 
 
 Note L. Page 143. 
 
 On the Apostle Paul's estimate of Ms own character as a Persecutor. 
 
 In the text I have presented Paul as being far from pleading con- 
 scientiousness as a palliation of his guilt in persecuting the church 
 and cause of Jesus of Nazareth. To this statement his own Avords 
 in 1 Tim. i. 12, 13, may perhaps be considered as opposed: — "And 
 I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that he 
 counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry ; who was before 
 a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious : but I obtained 
 mercy, because I did it ignorantly in unbelief." But as the object 
 of the apostle in the whole passage is to magnify his own sinfulness, 
 and the consequently abundant grace of Christ manifested in his 
 salvation and apostleship, it does not, a priori, seem likely that he 
 would introduce considerations palliative of the former, and, by 
 necessary consequence, calculated to reduce, rather than to enhance, 
 the estimate of the latter. On this account, as well as on other 
 grounds, I am inclined to agree with those who would throw the 
 words — " but I obtained mercy," — into a parenthesis ; and then the 
 clause which folio ws — "for I acted ignorantly in unbelief" — will 
 not, as at present, express the reason why mercy was obtained by 
 him, or rather was not withheld from him, but will only account for 
 his conduct as a blasphemer, a persecutor, and injurious. The verse 
 will stand thus : — Hov irporepou ovra fi\d(T(p7]jxoj/, nal didifcrriv, teal 
 vf$pKrTT)v, (aAA' T)\ei]Qriv) on ayvowu iirotrjcra, iu aTriffria. — " AVho was 
 before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious, (but I obtained 
 mercy,) for I acted ignorantly in unbelief: and the grace of our 
 Lord was exceeding abundant," &c. — Such a construction of the 
 words is very consistent both with the writer's spirit and style. But 
 for a full and lucid statement of the grounds on which this reading 
 is to be preferred, I would refer my readers to an excellent little 
 Tract on Assurance and Pardon, by the Rev. David Bussell, of 
 Dundee. 
 
320 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Note M. Page 14-1. [Second Edition.] 
 
 On Conscience. — Dr. Abercrombie, — Eclectic Iievieiv. — British Critic. — 
 On the influence of Depravity on Moral Judgments : — and on the 
 proper objects of Moral Philosophy. — British Critic. — Further reply 
 to Dr. Payne, on Conscience, §c. — Professor Wayland. 
 
 I hate as yet met with nothing that has'tended to alter, or mate- 
 rially to modify, the views I have here and elsewhere given of the 
 nature of conscience, as consisting in the exercise of the judgment in 
 regard to human conduct and its principles, combined with the 
 susceptibility of certain emotions ; the emotions not determining the 
 judgment, but arising from its decisions.* 
 
 The work of Dr. Abercrombie on " The Philosophy of the Moral 
 Feelings," I read when these Lectures were nearly finished at press; 
 not, therefore, in time to admit of my making reference to it. The 
 two volumes of that highly esteemed friend, on the philosophy of 
 the intellectual powers and the moral feelings, I regard as exceedingly 
 valuable, being the production of a man equally distinguished for 
 professional eminence and Christian excellence, replete with interest- 
 ing facts, as well as enlightened disquisition, and admirably adapted 
 for counteracting the prevailing tendencies in the minds of youthful 
 physiologists to materialism and infidelity, and for recommending to 
 consideration and acceptance those peculiar discoveries of revelation, 
 the profession of which he, at the same time, adorns by his consis- 
 tent example. With a great deal of what he says on the subject of 
 conscience, I perfectly concur. I cannot but think, however, that 
 on the one point of its identity with judgment in the actual process 
 of the mind, an analysis of his own expressions may go far to satisfy 
 him that there is no ground for the distinction between them. " We 
 appeal," he says, "to the consciousness of every man, that he per- 
 ceives a power which, in particular cases, warns him of the conduct 
 which he ought to pursue, and administers a solemn admonition 
 when he has departed from it. For, while his judgment conveys to 
 him a certain impression both of the qualities and the tendencies of 
 actions, he has, besides this, a feeling by which he views the actions 
 with approbation or disapprobation, in reference purely to their 
 moral aspect, and without any regard to their consequences." — 
 Phil, of the Moral Feelings, p. 142. Now, what is it that is here 
 
 • See the addition to this Note. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. o ; 2 I 
 
 assigned to Judgment? " It conveys to him a certain impression both 
 of the qualities and tendencies of actions." I wish to know what is 
 precisely meant by the qualities of actions, as thus distinguished from 
 their tendencies. Am I to understand by the term, then- moral quali- 
 ties, their distinctive characters as right or wrong ? If so, then the 
 judgment is represented as conveying an impression of these qualities 
 distinctly from, and independently of, their tendencies. When to 
 this it is subjoined, — "he has, besides this, a feeling by which he 
 views the actions with approbation or disapprobation, in reference 
 purely to their moral aspect, and without regard to consequences," — 
 what is the precise amount of addition to the previous statement ? 
 In the latter part of the sentence, do not the terms " moral aspect" 
 and " consequences" correspond to what, in the former part of it, are 
 expressed by "qualities" and "tendencies"? If so, — then, if an 
 impression of the qualities of an action is conveyed by the judgment, 
 is not an impression of its moral aspect conveyed by the judgment : 
 And does not this amount to the same tiling, with an impression of 
 it as right or wrong being conveyed by the judgment ? — Is there, 
 then, any material difference between the impression of an action as 
 right, and the sentiment of approbation, or between the imjwession of 
 an action as wrong, and the sentiment of disapprobation ? If there be, 
 I cannot discern it. The sentiment of approbation, be it remembered, 
 is something very distinct from the consent of the heart and will. 
 Conscience may approve, while the affections and desires rebel. 
 "Were it otherwise, there could never be a dictate of conscience with- 
 out the concurrence of the heart, and the consequent correspondence 
 of the volition and the action ; which would be the same thing as to 
 say there could be no such thing as the pain of guilt, cr, indeed, as 
 guilt itself. It appears to me that the impression of an action as 
 right — morally right, is approbation ; not merely that it gives rise to 
 approbation, but that it is approbation. Dr. A. afterwards acids 
 (page 143), "The province of conscience, then, appears to be, to 
 convey to man a certain conviction of what is morally right and 
 wrong, in regard to conduct in individual cases, and the general 
 exercise of the desires and affections." But is there any essential 
 difference between the province of conscience, as thus defined, and 
 the province ox judgment, as defined in the terms already cited ? — any 
 essential difference between conveying to man a certain conviction of 
 what is morally right and wrong in conduct," and "conveying to 
 him a certain impression of the qualities of actions?" All this, 
 however, depends, I am aware, on what the Doctor means by " the 
 qualities of actions." I have been assuming him to mean their moral 
 I. Y 
 
o-i* NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 qualities, because it is about these alone that there is any argument ,' 
 and indeed, when human actions are the subject, what qualities are 
 there besides their moral qualities that are deserving of controversy ? 
 If, however, Dr. A. refers, when he speaks of judgment, to the 
 physical qualities of actions, my reasoning, I readily acknowledge, 
 is baseless. But then I should at once deny the correctness of 
 confining the exercise of judgment respecting actions, exclusively 
 to physical properties : and in this, I think, I should carry the 
 majority of judgments along with me. Yet that physical qualities- 
 are intended, I have been led to suspect by the terms of a subsequent 
 statement. In speaking (page 147) of a particular disordered state 
 of the affections and moral principles, " while there is no derange- 
 ment in the ordinary exercise of judgment," he says, — "There is no 
 diminution of his sound estimate of physical relations, — for this is 
 the province of reason. But there is a total derangement of his 
 sense and approbation of moral relations, — for this is conscience." 
 Are the " moral relations," then, to be excluded from the proper 
 province of reason ? and is that province to be confined to "physical 
 relatio?is" only? I confess myself, indeed, at a loss for a definite 
 idea of the application of reason to the physical relations of actions. 
 What are those physical relations ? and what is there in them about 
 which to reason ? The Apostle Paul, (to whose statements Dr. A. 
 refers), speaks of men's " consciences bearing witness," and of their 
 " reasoimigs between one another (/xeTa^b a\\-h\av ru>u Xoyifffiwv) ac- 
 cusing or vindicating ;" but, when he so speaks, both the testimony 
 and the reasonings relate to the moral qualities of actions. — I submit 
 these few observations, with all diffidence, to the consideration of 
 Dr. Abercrombie's own mind. 
 
 There is another point, and one of still greater importance, on 
 which I am reluctantly constrained to differ from him. In the 
 account which he gives of conscience, as the presiding and regulating 
 power in the moral constitution of man, it does not appear to me that 
 there is a correct impression of the degree in which that faculty (call 
 it what you will) has been affected by the entrance of sin. One 
 would be tempted to think that it is regarded as having escaped the 
 general depravation, and as still sitting the uncorrupted censor of all 
 the other powers and passions of the soul. But this, surely, is a 
 great mistake. In evidence of this, I make my appeal, at once and 
 without reserve, to the first and highest of all principles. Believing, 
 as I do, the love of God to be the fundamental principle of all morals, 
 I have simply to ask Dr. A. how conscience stands affected in rela- 
 tion to it ? Is there amongst mankind any thing at all approaching 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 323 
 
 to a due sensibility of the evil involved in the absence or the defi- 
 ciency of this principle ? How is the fact abroad ? how is it at 
 home ? — Without adverting to the fearful aberrations from all right 
 conceptions of the true God among the heathen, and the moral origin 
 of such aberrations, — I now ask how the fact is, when the character 
 and claims of this true God are brought before them ? Is it easy to 
 procure a concession of the claims, or to produce a penitential sense 
 of the evil of having violated them, and an adequate impression of 
 their paramount imperativeness ? — And at home, — where lies the 
 grand difficulty with the teachers of Christianity, — with the indi- 
 cators of the high and authoritative morality of the word of God ? 
 "Where, but in the sluggish inertness, the callous unimpressibleness, 
 of the conscience, in regard to this first principle of moral obligation? 
 How little is it at all thought of in the estimate of character ! how 
 superlatively difficult to procure for it its proper place, — to prevail 
 with men to admit, I say not its absolute supremacy, but even its 
 indispensable necessity ! How comes it, that conscience has not, all 
 along and everywhere, with authoritative and effective voice, said to 
 men, — " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and 
 with all thy soul ! " How comes it, that it has not, all along and 
 everywhere, condemned the absence of this love as the most flagrant 
 and deeply criminal of all the breaches of moral obligation? Has 
 this been like the operation of an unfalien principle ? It is here, on 
 the contrary, that its grand failure lies, — in the very department 
 where lies the essence of human corruption. There are passages in 
 Dr. Abercrombie's work, which contain most correct and scriptural 
 statements of the tendencies to evil in human nature. My only 
 wonder is, that, with the views which these passages unfold, he 
 should hold conscience, in fallen man, quite so high as he does, as 
 an authoritative standard of moral rectitude. "When treating, and 
 treating admirably well, of the moral influence of the great truths 
 relative to the perfections of Deity, and of the incumbent duty of a 
 " careful direction of the mind to such truths, so as to enable them to 
 act as moral causes in the mental economy ; " causes, " from which," 
 he shows, "by the established order of moral sequences, the emotions 
 naturally follow ; " and from the emotions, " cherished with satisfac- 
 tion and reverence, a corresponding influence upon the heart and cha- 
 racter," the excellent author writes as follows: — "But the first step 
 in this important process may be neglected ; the mind may not be di- 
 rected with due care to the truths which thus claim its highest regard, 
 — and the natural result is a corresponding deficiency in the emotions 
 and conduct which ought to flow from them. This will be the case in 
 
o24 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 a still higher degree, if there has been formed any actual derangement 
 of the moral condition ; if deeds have been committed, or even 
 desires cherished, by which the indications of conscience have been 
 violated. The moral harmony of the mind is then lost ; and how- 
 ever slight may be the first impression, a morbid influence has begun 
 to operate in the mental economy, which tends gradually to gain 
 strength, until it becomes a ruling principle in the whole character. 
 The truths connected with the divine perfections are now neither 
 invited nor cherished, but are felt to be intruders which disturb the 
 mental tranquillity. The attention ceases to be directed to them, 
 and the corresponding emotions vanish from the mind. Such 
 appears to be the moral history of those who, in the striking lan- 
 guage of the sacred writings, ' do not like to retain God in there 
 knowledge.' 
 
 " When the moral harmony of the mind has been impaired to this 
 extent, another mental condition arises, according to the wondrous 
 system of moral sequences. This consists in a distortion of the 
 understanding itself, regarding the first great principles of moral 
 truth. For, a fearless contemplation of the truth, respecting the 
 divine perfections, having become inconsistent with the moral condi- 
 tion of the mind, there next arises a desire to discover a view of them 
 more in accordance with its own feelings. This is followed, in due- 
 course, by a corresponding train of its own speculations ; and these, 
 by a mind so prepared, are received as truth. The inventions of the 
 mind itself thus become the regulating principles of its emotions ; 
 and this mental process, advancing from step to step, terminates in 
 moral degradation and anarchy." — Pp. 159, 160. 
 
 I have here only to ask two simple questions. In the first place, 
 When the Apostle, in the words quoted, says, " They did not like to 
 retain God in their knowledge," does he not describe the generic 
 character of mankind ? and in the mental process of degeneracy 
 which the above paragraphs so well delineate, is there not contained 
 the "moral history," not merely of individuals here and there, rare 
 and extraordinary exceptions, but of the species, of the entire race ; 
 although, doubtless, in a country where revelation is enjoyed, and 
 where by many minds the knowledge which it communicates is 
 possessed, while the heart remains estranged from its moral influ- 
 ence, and may even for a time appear to exert a salutary restraining 
 energy, such as temptation may gradually weaken and destroy, — 
 exemplifications of the melancholy tendency downward may be 
 expected of a peculiarly striking character ? And, secondly, If there 
 are in human nature such tendencies, — tendencies to such disregard 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 325 
 
 and forgetfulness of the great truths of God, as to banish from the 
 mind the emotions they are fitted to engender, and even to produce 
 a distortion of the understanding itself respecting these great truths, 
 and a desire after views of them in accordance with the heart's own 
 perverted feelings ; — if, I say, these things be indeed so, — how can 
 we place any thing like implicit reliance on conscience, as an infal- 
 lible standard of right and wrong ? 
 
 In the Eclectic Revieio for January 1834, there is an article on the 
 " Christian Ethics," with the general strain of which I have every 
 reason to be more than satisfied. I forbear of course all laudatory 
 epithets, lest I should expose myself to the sarcastic application of 
 the poet's lines — 
 
 " For 'tis a rule that ever will hold true, 
 Grant me discernment, and I grant it you.*' 
 
 On this subject of conscience, the reviewer, who dissents from my 
 opinion, thus expresses himself: — "Nor can we approve of his 
 definition of conscience, as the mere ' exercise of the judgment in 
 the department of morals.' The objection urged by Dr. Payne 
 against this definition is, we must think, unanswerable : — ' My 
 judgment pronounces the conduct of a friend to be wrong ; but it 
 cannot be said that my conscience condemns him.' " I should have 
 been glad, had the respected critic pointed out to me the fallacy of 
 the answer which I have attempted to give to this objection. He 
 has not done this ; and as I am not myself sensible of any fallacy, 
 the objection, "I must think," is not unanswerable. When Dr. 
 Payne says, "My judgment pronounces the conduct of a friend to 
 be wrong," he seems to me to concede the general point, that the 
 discernment between the right and wTong of actions pertains to the 
 judgment; and if it pertains to the judgment in regard to the actions 
 of others, why should there be required another faculty for such 
 discernment in regard to our own ? I am unable to perceive any 
 flaw in the conclusion I have drawn from this admission : — " If 
 conscience, indeed, is at all to be considered as including in its 
 appropriate function the determination of right and wrong, — then it 
 seems to me to be a self-evident truth, that the same faculty of mind 
 which pronounces the sentence of right or wrong on the actions of 
 others, must necessarily be that which pronounces similar sentence 
 upon our own. If it be judgment in the one case, it must be judg- 
 ment in the other ; the sentence not depending on the person by 
 whom the action is done, but on the nature of the action itself." 
 
32 G NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 According to the reviewer, conscience, whether in unfallcn or 
 fallen creatures, is simply the " consciousness of moral accountable- 
 ?iess." "Remorse," says he, "differs from conscience, in being a 
 consciousness not merely of responsibility, but of guilt. A tender 
 conscience, that is, a deep and vivid sense of accountableness to God, 
 may consist with a very erroneous because ill-informed judgment as 
 to right and wrong. Surely, then, conscience cannot be identical 
 with judgment ; cannot consist in it. In other words, conscience is 
 not the mind judging of the right or wrong of our awn actions, but 
 is the mind knowing and considering, that, for choosing and doing 
 the right or the wrong, we are accountable to the Author of our 
 being. In a holy being, this sense of accountableness, connected 
 with conscious rectitude, and the enjoyment of the divine favour, 
 must be an element of perfect happiness. In a sinful being, it is 
 that which makes conscious guilt a source of torment." On this 
 statement, I beg leave, with due submission, to offer the following 
 suggestions. First, It contains a distinct admission that the discri- 
 mination of the right and the wrong in human actions belongs to 
 the province of judgment. If, therefore, I am in error, my error 
 regards not the actual mental process, but the mere question of 
 nomenclature, whether such discrimination should or should not be 
 included among the functions expressed by the term conscience. 
 Secondly, Neither, according to this definition, does conscience 
 include at all the sensibility to emotions, pleasurable or painful, 
 when good or evil has been done ; for " remorse differs from con- 
 science, in being a consciousness not merely of responsibility, but of 
 guilt." This (to apply the critic's own terms in regard to my inci- 
 dental and I think justifiable use of a particular term) — this is " a 
 very unusual, and (we submit) inaccurate use of the word." Re- 
 morse, assuredly, is not the mere "consciousness of guilt." It is, as 
 Dr. Payne expresses it, " the dreadful feeling of regret and self- 
 condemnation, which arises upon the retrospect of our guilt ; " or, 
 as Dr. Johnson has it in the shortest possible form, "pain of guilt." 
 According to the critic's definition, then, conscience neither includes 
 the judicial decision on the right and wrong of actions, nor the sus- 
 ceptibility of consequent emotions ; the one, or the other, or both of 
 which have generally (as far as I am aware universally) been consi- 
 dered as belonging to its proper province. Thirdly, If conscience be 
 simply the " consciousness of accountableness," it is indeed perfectly 
 true that " a tender conscience, that is, a deep and vivid sense of 
 accountableness to God, may consist with a very erroneous because 
 ill-informed judgment as to right and -wrong;" but then, this is 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 327 
 
 giving up conscience altogether as a standard or criterion of right 
 and wrong. It is no longer a law, nor a regulator, nor an inward 
 monitor. If it "bears witness," as Paul affirms it does, it is only to 
 man's responsibility, not at all to the moral qualities of the actions 
 for which he is responsible. On these it is the judgment that 
 decides ; and the office of conscience is only to make the agent 
 sensible of accountableness for what that faculty pronounces right 
 or wrong. In as far, then, as conscience is concerned, what becomes 
 of man's being " a law unto himself" ? It is judgment alone that 
 makes him so ; inasmuch as conscience, even in its " best estate," — 
 a " tender conscience," — a " deep and vivid sense of accountableness 
 to God," may subsist and be in exercise, and yet leave the subject of 
 it " very ill-informed as to the law of right and wrong." Fourthly, 
 To me, I confess, it appears, that even that wdiich by the critic is 
 assigned to conscience, as its peculiar and distinctive function, must 
 be regarded as an intellectual operation of the mind, or an exercise 
 of the judgment. " Conscience," says he, " is not the mind judging 
 of the right or wrong of our own actions, but is the mind knowing 
 and considering that, for choosing or doing the right or the wrong, 
 w r e are accountable to the Author of our being." — "Knoioing" is a 
 mental exercise, or state purely intellectual. " Considering" is an 
 operation of the judging faculty ; for, although it may sometimes 
 express simple attention, yet in the connexion in which it here stands, 
 it clearly involves our applying the idea of accountableness to our 
 conduct, and forming a judgment of the influence which it ought to 
 have upon it, and of the consequences resulting from our acting in 
 conformity with that influence, or in opposition to it. Were the 
 accountableness which, in the discharge of the proper functions of 
 conscience, the mind is represented as " knowing and considering," 
 made the subject of question, to what faculty but to the judgment 
 should we make our appeal, in order to produce, to restore, or to 
 impress the conviction of it ? I must still, then, consider conscience 
 as the judgment of right and wrong, associated with the susceptibility of 
 corresponding emotions of pleasure or pain when right or wrong is 
 done by us, — emotions which, I readily admit, arise chiefly from a 
 sense of accountableness. 
 
 It gave me pleasure to find one reviewer at least concurring with 
 me in identifying conscience with judgment. I refer to the British 
 Critic: — " AVe have much satisfaction," says the reviewer in that 
 periodical, "in expressing our concurrence in Dr. AVardlaw's 
 notions in regard to conscience, as an exercise of the judgment on 
 our own actions, and as thereby differing from the moral sense of 
 
828 KOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 Hutcheson and the original emotions of Dr. Brown." The reviewer 
 objects to even the inclusion of the susceptibility of emotion in our 
 idea of conscience : " Some writers, indeed, have attempted to 
 separate in conscience the power that determines from the power 
 which feefo; ascribing the former to the judgment, and the latter to 
 a special susceptibility connected with our moral discernment. But 
 we should object to this multiplication of original faculties ; for, as 
 most of our intellectual operations are accompanied with feelings of 
 pleasure or pain, admiration or disgust, approbation or dislike, we 
 should soon find ourselves reduced to the necessity of creating as 
 many distinct sources of emotion as there are distinguishable acts of 
 the rational energies." — No. XXX. p. 333. But it is not here 
 denied that the susceptibility exists, and actually belongs to the 
 mental process ; and if it exists, and is quite of a special nature, the 
 emotion arising from conscious right or wrong being one which is 
 decidedly unique in its character, so that there is no danger of con- 
 founding it with any other, — then, whether we call it a separate 
 power, — a distinct original faculty, or not, there does not seem to be 
 any sufficiently valid objection to its being included in the function 
 of conscience. 
 
 There are two points, on which, though they have no immediate 
 relation to the subject of conscience, I may embrace the present 
 opportunity of offering a few observations, in reply to the censorial 
 strictures of this critic. The first relates to the influence of the 
 depravity of human nature in biassing and perverting the judgment 
 on moral subjects. I am not about to enter into any laboured 
 defence of my statements on this point, which stand in my mind 
 altogether unshaken by any of the reviewer's objections. lie admits 
 indeed the principle in specific cases, while he appears to question 
 and gainsay its more general application ; which I cannot but think 
 rather strange in one who considers conscience as the same with 
 judgment, and who does not controvert my views of human de- 
 pravity ; seeing all depravity of disposition must unavoidably tend 
 to the perversion of the judgment on subjects in which that depravity 
 is concerned. To admit the operation of this principle in specific 
 cases, and at the same time question it in its general application, 
 does not seem very consistent ; the specific cases being in fact no 
 more than exemplifications of a tendency that must be as universal as 
 the depravity. In allusion to a comparison which I had used, the 
 reviewer says — "It is true that the jaundiced eye could not judge 
 well of colours in any particular case, no more than the opinion of a 
 very bad man could be relied on in any special occurrence where his 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 329 
 
 own passions were concerned." And again, "As to the judgment 
 which a man pronounces upon his own conduct, where there is any 
 ground for doubt, it must be at once acknowledged that no decision 
 could be more fallacious. The judge is prepossessed, and his opinion 
 must go for nothing. In this case the depravity and imperfection 
 which adhere to our nature preclude the possibility of deriving from 
 it a standard of moral rectitude as applicable to practice." — Pp. 326, 
 327, 319. In these sentences the principle for which I contend is 
 clearly and pointedly admitted in regard to the exercise of the 
 judgment in its decisions on particular cases. Now, all that I 
 contend for is its generalization. My position is, that there is the 
 same kind of tendency in the general principles of depravity to exert 
 an undue influence upon the mind in regard to the general prin- 
 ciples, obligations, and laws of rectitude, as there is in any par- 
 ticular passion, or any particular feeling of self-interest, to exert 
 such an influence in regard to any particular action or course of 
 conduct. The only question seems to be, whether human nature be 
 depraved ; whether all mankind, as partakers of that nature, are 
 really the subjects of alienation from God, and of tendencies to evil. 
 If they are, — then surely, so far as it is so, their opinions and 
 decisions are not to be implicitly trusted to on subjects that interfere 
 with those tendencies. 
 
 But the critic argues thus : — " As a man who has never enjoyed 
 the blessing of sight may discuss in a satisfactory manner the origin 
 and relations of colours ; and as an individual, whose sensibility to 
 flavour has become dead or depraved, may nevertheless be a master 
 in the doctrine of relishes ; so, many an author produces a good 
 work on the philosophy of ethics, though his conduct and affections 
 be most alien to virtue. In none of these cases is a standard to be 
 taken from what the persons in question do or feel, but from the 
 conclusions to which they are carried by logical reasoning and 
 legitimate inference." — Page 327. Now, of the statement contained 
 in the last short sentence I most readily admit the truth. I have no 
 where said, that "a standard is to be taken from what such men, 
 or any men, do or feel ;" my sole question has been, how far " the 
 conclusions to which they are carried" are not liable to be affected 
 by the general principles and tendencies of a vitiated nature ; just as, 
 it is admitted, "the opinions of a bad man" may be affected, "in 
 any special occurrence," by the particular passions which such 
 occurrence brings into play. I am very well aware of the frequent 
 difference between a man's life and his writings ; how frequently the 
 latter may be theoretically right, while the former is practically 
 
330 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 •wrong. I am aware that a man addicted to swearing may indite a 
 good treatise against profaneness ; that an intemperate man may- 
 write powerfully in favour of sobriety ; and that a man of vicious 
 character may be found to reason well on the general principles of 
 morals. But such instances never shake the ascertained principle, 
 that a liking to a particular evil is apt to affect the judgment re- 
 garding it, and to plead in mitigation of the sentence against it — 
 and that general profligacy has the same tendency in regard to 
 general evil. To bring the question to a point. The Apostle Paul 
 says, "The carnal mind is enmity against God." If, in saying so, 
 he gives the character of human nature, is there no tendency in this 
 enmity to influence the decision of the judgment respecting the 
 affections and the conduct due to God ? Is not the first thing done 
 with every witness that comes into the witness-box in trials before a 
 human tribunal, to ascertain that he is under the influence of no 
 "malice or ill-will" against the prisoner at the bar? Such malice 
 would vitiate his testimony. It is on the same principle, that 
 "enmity in the heart against God" must be regarded as subverting 
 confidence in the judgment of mankind on the fundamental prin- 
 ciples of morals. — "In reviewing the systems of Zeno, Hobbes, 
 Hume, Hazlitt, or Bentham, we give ourselves no trouble to inquire 
 whether the lives of these writers were in all respects conformable to 
 just rules ; retaining in mind the obvious distinction between a 
 theory of morals proposed to the consideration of the schools, and a 
 set of precepts meant for regulating the discharge of the duties of 
 life." — Page 327. And yet it might not be an inappropriate and 
 unprofitable inquiry, how far the systems of such philosophers were 
 affected by that principle of evil of which we have just spoken, and 
 which constitutes the sad characteristic of man's fallen nature. Is 
 it usual for men of infidel principles, or of philosophic impiety, to 
 lay the foundation of their moral systems, for example, in supreme 
 love to God? Will the reviewer venture to say, that their specula- 
 tions, in this and other respects, are not at all affected by their state 
 of heart and their character ? If he does, I must be allowed to refer 
 him to his Bible for a better knowledge of human nature. After 
 expressing his agreement with me as to the nature of conscience, he 
 quotes a passage of some length, and then subjoins — "Here Dr. "VV. 
 deserves praise for being right, but not for being strictly consistent. 
 He gives conscience a higher office and authority than can properly 
 belong to the mental constitution of a creature so radically depraved 
 as he usually represents man to be. But he indirectly acknowledges 
 that, though the disposition may be corrupt, the judgment may be 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTKATIONS. 331 
 
 pure and accurate ; and that it is perfectly possible to distinguisli 
 between them. A bad man may therefore theorize on moral science 
 as wisely and conclusively as the most pious of philosophers. The 
 only difference is, that the emotions in the breast of the one will 
 have little resemblance to those excited in the other." — Pp. 332, 
 333. I have read the passage quoted, and can find in it no such 
 acknowledgment, direct or indirect, as is imputed to me. I can 
 never admit that a "corrupt disposition" can subsist without exert- 
 ing any influence upon the purity and accuracy of the judgment on 
 subjects to which the disposition relates ; and I may safely challenge 
 the reviewer to point out any passage where such admission is con- 
 tained. I have not, however, entered into any discussion of the 
 direct influence of the fall on man's intellectual powers. The only 
 influence of which I have treated, is the influence of perverted moral 
 dispositions upon their exercise and their decisions on moral sub- 
 jects. — If indeed I have " confounded those views of morality which 
 respect the practical conduct of life, with the more recondite dis- 
 quisitions on ethics regarded as a science, of which the object is to 
 determine the abstract qualities, so to speak, of good and evil, in 
 connexion with certain feelings and judgments of the human mind," 
 and by so doing have " led myself and my readers into much un- 
 necessary perplexity ;" — then have I egregiously failed in one of my 
 leading and contemplated objects. To myself it appears, that the 
 very quotations made by the reviewer might be adduced as proofs of 
 the contrary. But the decision rests not of course with me. 
 
 This leads me to notice a second general and pervading allegation 
 in the critique : it is expressed thus — " That Dr. W. holds a place 
 among those who have not formed a correct notion of the objects 
 contemplated by the moral philosopher, will appear manifest to 
 every one who reads his book with attention." — Page 323. How 
 far this imputation does not fall with more justice upon the 
 critic himself, a few observations may suffice to show. The critic 
 concurs in sentiment with the anonymous writer of the article Moral 
 Philosophy in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, when that writer says — 
 " Moral philosophy inquires, not how man might have been, but 
 how he is, constituted ; not into what principles his actions may be 
 artfully resolved, but from what principles and dispositions they 
 actually flow." He expresses his concurrence in these terms — "Our 
 business, in the several fields of geology, of animal nature, and of 
 moral science, is to mark the properties of things as they actually 
 present themselves, without presuming to decide whether they are 
 what God meant them to be or not." — Page 324. Now, whatever 
 
332 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 may be the case in regard to geology and animal nature, it docs 
 appear to me, in regard to "moral science," that if we have not in 
 view, in the investigation of " things as they actually present them- 
 selves," to ascertain "whether they are tohat God meant them to be, or 
 otherwise," the only object in such science that is at all worthy of 
 pursuit, or entitles it to the designation, is entirely left out of sight. The 
 ultimate object of all our inquiries on such subjects should surely be, 
 not to determine Avhat is, but what ought to be. This I conceive to 
 be the appropriate aim of all moral science ; to ascertain the original 
 grounds of moral obligation, as well as the law of the creature's 
 duty. The question, therefore, is, whether, from the investigation 
 of what is, in human nature "as it now actually presents itself," 
 there are correct and sufficient data for determining what ought to be. 
 If not, our investigation conducts us to no conclusion that is worth 
 the finding, — at any rate, not to the conclusion at which moral 
 science ought to aim. "We settle certain facts, but we determine no 
 general principles. " It will be admitted, too, we are persuaded," says 
 the reviewer, " upon suitable reflection, that human nature in its 
 present state is the proper subject of ethical investigation ; because 
 it is only as connected with its actual feelings, propensities, and 
 wants, that it can be viewed as the basis of a consistent theory of 
 morals :" — and again, "there is no other basis on which the ethical 
 philosopher can rear a scientific structure. If ' man be the proper 
 study of man,' it must be man as he really exists ; displaying his 
 powers, passions, and propensities, in connexion with the various 
 demands of society, and even with the qualities of the material 
 world which influence so deeply his character and his destination." 
 — Pp. 320, 331. Be it so, that the study of man must be the study 
 of man as he is — (for to us what else can it be r) — still the question 
 recurs, whether from this study of man as he is, the philosopher can 
 arrive at the correct and certain knowledge of what he ought to be. It 
 is the very design of the earlier Lectures in the Christian Ethics, to show 
 how inadequate and insecure, as a basis of moral theorizing, human 
 nature in its present condition actually is ; to evince that it has been, 
 in part at least, from this very cause, — from their seeking in it the 
 principles of their moral theories, — that philosophers have so egre- 
 giously failed and erred ; and hence to manifest the impropriety of 
 separating ethical science from theology, and framing theories on 
 principles excogitated by philosophy independently of the dictates of 
 revelation. And between the law of duty and the theoretical prin- 
 ciples of moral obligation, I have endeavoured carefully to discrimi- 
 nate : — with what success, it is not mine to determine. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 333 
 
 In a favourite analogy of the reviewer, to which he more than 
 once recurs, there appears to me to lurk a fallacy. " The studies," 
 says he, " of the geologist, the chemist, and the botanist, might be 
 met with an objection similar to that started by Dr. W. against the 
 researches of the speculative moralist. The terraqueous globe, it 
 may be said, is no longer what it was when it proceeded from the 
 hand of the great Creator. It bears upon it the marks of a curse. 
 The surface is torn and shattered ; and the strata which compose its 
 inward parts are dislocated, bent, and in many instances removed 
 from their original position. To obtain a true theory of the earth, 
 therefore, we ought, it might be asserted, to ascend to the era of its 
 primitive order and beauty ; for at present, we contemplate only the 
 ruins of a magnificent system, from the study of which we can barely 
 conjecture what it must have been before it was subjected to that 
 violence of which it everywhere exhibits the marks." — Page 321. 
 I take the case of the geologist, to avoid prolixity, and as being 
 obviously the most appropriate. The accuracy of the analogy 
 depends, of course, entirely on the sameness or the discrepancy of 
 the objects, respectively, of the geologist and the moralist. If the 
 object of the latter be indeed no more than to ascertain, as a question 
 of fact, what human nature noio is, — not what it originally was, — 
 I have nothing to say. But if the object of the ethical philosopher 
 be, from what human nature is, to ascertain what are the great 
 general principles of moral rectitude, or, in the language of the 
 reviewer, " to discover the grounds on which the legislation of 
 virtue and vice has its original basis," then the comparison is in- 
 appropriate and fallacious. Suppose there were certain great prin- 
 ciples (if I may so express myself) of physical rectitude, — principles of 
 creation, — to be ascertained " by drilling and boring the solid earth," 
 and examining its strata, its exuviae, and all the arcana of its present 
 structure, the analogy would be sufficiently appropriate. And if it 
 be so, that " the surface is torn and shattered, and the strata which 
 compose its inward parts dislocated, bent, and in many instances 
 removed from their original position;" if it be so, that we uoav 
 " contemplate only the ruins of a magnificent system ;" then, as- 
 suredly, there are such principles of creation or of world-making — 
 such principles of physical rectitude, of which wo may form a very 
 inadequate and even erroneous conception from the mere geological 
 examination of the earth as it is. Now, whether there be any such 
 ulterior object in geology or not, as that of rising from facts to prin- 
 ciples, certainly there is in moral science. There is, I repeat, the 
 deduction from what is of what ought to be, — the deduction of the 
 
334 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 true principles of morals : — and this will be found to amount to much 
 the same thing with ascertaining the moral nature of Deity — the 
 characters of that infinite Being, who is the eternal prototype of all 
 rectitude in his creatures. The question is, ichether these things are 
 capable of being ascertained from the examination of human nature as it 
 at present appears — the examination being at the same time conducted by 
 an examinator tvJw is himself a subject of the very evil propensities by 
 which the nature is characterized. " I trow not." 
 
 The reviewer speaks of my mind being " cramped by my narrow 
 views." I can only say, that my sincere wish and prayer are, to 
 have views neither wider nor narrower, on all such subjects, than 
 the Christian standard of truth warrants. I have already thanked 
 him for correcting a mistake into which I had inadvertently fallen, 
 with regard to the phraseology of Dr. Brown ; and I desire to be 
 kept open to conviction on more important points, and to reckon 
 every man my friend who displaces error from my mind, and sub- 
 stitutes truth. As to "flippancy" (Rev. p. 330), I freely confess 
 I was not prepared for any charge of that kind. I have studied my 
 own character very unsuccessfully, if it belongs to me ; and I blushed 
 to see it associated with my name. I can assure the reviewer, there 
 never were strictures written with more self- diffidence than those on 
 Butler ; and I have the comfort of believing that the reviewer stands 
 alone in the imputation. 
 
 Addition to the preceding Note : — Fourth Edition. 
 
 In the second edition of this valuable work, entitled "Elements 
 of Mental and Moral Science" — Note, p. 277 — my friend, Dr. Payne, 
 (not, I confess, without some little reason), expresses his surprise at 
 the statement in the beginning of the preceding note ; alleging that 
 the representation of conscience, as consisting in "the exercise of the 
 judgment in regard to human conduct, combined with the stisceptibility 
 of certain emotions" is not the representation given by me originally ; 
 that I then represented conscience as consisting in the exercise of 
 the judgment, and of the judgment alone.— I grant the equivocal 
 nature of the language ; of which, however, the use was a mere 
 inadvertency. And the inadvertency is readily accounted for. I 
 never denied the susceptibility of the emotions referred to. The 
 only question was, whether the term conscience ought to be used as 
 inclusive of them ? I contended, and still contend, that the differ- 
 ence between us respected not so much, if at all, the actual operations 
 of the mind, but only the precise part of those operations which 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 335 
 
 should be considered as the appropriate import of a particular term. 
 I did regard conscience as the judging or determining faculty. Dr. 
 Payne considered conscience as consisting in the susceptibility of the 
 emotions of self-complacency and remorse, consequent on the act of the 
 judgment. Of course, he thought me wrong in excluding the latter ; 
 and I thought him wrong in excluding the former. I came so far to a 
 compromise as to admit (though somewhat hesitatingly and dubiously) 
 that the correcter view than either might be the inclusion of both the 
 act of judgment and the consequent emotion. — I have thus granted 
 that the expression "combined with the susceptibility of certain emo- 
 tions" is hardly a correct representation of my original view ; being, 
 at all events, liable to mistake. Yet, as I never questioned the ex- 
 istence of the emotions consequent upon the act of judgment, the 
 terms are not altogether indefensible. Dr. Payne says, "Remorse 
 is that dreadful feeling of self- accusation, or condemnation, which 
 arises on the retrospect of our guilt. It is combined with, or presup- 
 poses, a perception of criminality." Now if, with him, the phrase 
 "combined with" may be used as equivalent to "presupposes" (for 
 assuredly the "perception of criminality" is not, in any strict or 
 proper sense, an ingredient in the remorse), — why may not the same 
 phrase — "combined with" — be used by me as an equivalent for 
 followed by?" If he says "is combined with, or presupposes," why 
 should not I say — " is combined with, or folloived by" ? This would 
 be in perfect agreement with my original representation ; inasmuch 
 as, while regarding conscience as simply the judging faculty applied 
 to the right and wrong of our own conduct, I ever considered the 
 decisions of that faculty as attended or followed by the emotions, 
 painful or pleasurable, referred to. 
 
 I still am unconvinced of any difference between the faculty by 
 which we judge of the conduct of others, and that by which we judge 
 of our own. It still appears to me quite clear, that the exercise of 
 judgment by which we decide on the right or wrong of an action is, 
 and must necessarily be, the very same, whether that action be the 
 doing of another, or be done by ourselves. The emotions resulting 
 in the one case and in the other are different ; but the act of judg- 
 ment which decides on the moral qualities of the action is the same. 
 " The operations of conscience," Dr. Payne says, " reach not beyond 
 ourselves ; the decisions of the judgment extend to others. My 
 judgment pronounces the conduct of a friend (as well as my own) to 
 be wrong ; but conscience condemns myself only. The operation of 
 conscience does not, then, consist in the act of judgment, or it would 
 not be confined to myself. That operation is subsequent to the 
 
336 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 moral judgment, and is the condemning emotion, indicating the 
 existence of a faculty totally distinct from judgment ; for judgment, 
 existing or acting alone, could not originate emotions," &c. 
 
 Now, first of all, I query the correctness of the phrase a " condemning 
 emotion." If it means the emotion consequent upon the sentence of 
 condemnation, I can understand it. liutthe emotion does not condemn. 
 Condemnation itself is an act of judgment. It gives rise to the emo- 
 tion.— Further, I cannot but think that Dr. Payne's argument against 
 regarding conscience as identical with judgment, drawn from its 
 being confined to ourselves, while judgment extends to others, 
 might, in the principle of it, be inverted. He admits that there is an 
 act of judgment which determines, in our own case, the right or 
 wrong of our actions. Whether this judgment be conscience, or be 
 included in conscience, or not, — such judgment there is. 1 ask, then, 
 whether, in the judgment passed upon our own conduct, there is 
 any thing else on which the mind proceeds in forming it, than that on 
 which it decides on the conduct of others ; any principle different 
 from that on which its sentences on the deeds of others arc passed ? 
 — or whether the judging faculty exercises itself in any other way in the 
 one case than in the other ? Dr. Payne argues well against Dr. 
 Brown's theory of moral emotions, when he contends for these 
 emotions being preceded by acts of the judgment. Now, if the act 
 of judgment be previous, and the emotion consequent, then the 
 former is independent of the latter, — the judgment, of the emotion. 
 I see not, hi that case, if the judgment is independent of the emotion, 
 what ground there can be for Dr. Payne's argument, — namely, that 
 conscience cannot be judgment alone, because, if it were, it would 
 extend to others as well as to ourselves. — Our judgments pronounce 
 upon the conduct of others. There are emotions consequent upon its 
 decisions in regard to them, as well as in regard to ourselves, — 
 emotions of complacency or of indignation. Might it not, then, 
 with equal conclusiveness, be reasoned, that the faculty which pro- 
 nounces upon the conduct of others cannot be judgment alone, 
 because, if it were, it would extend to ourselves as well as to them •• 
 Dr. Payne says — " In the complex state of mind which, arises on the 
 retrospect of our own misconduct, there is an element which does 
 not exist on the retrospect of that of another. This element, viz. the 
 feeling of remorse, is not, then, the result of judgment, it could not 
 have existed if we had had only judgment. It owes its existence to 
 a distinct susceptibility of the mind." (Page 278, Note.) But who 
 ever dreamed of questioning this ? It is only saying that simple judg- 
 ment is distinct from susceptibility of emotion ; and that if we had 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 337 
 
 had only judgment, we should not have had emotion. Granted, 
 that the judgment is not the emotion, nor the emotion the judgment ; 
 that they are distinct ; and that the one is antecedent, and the 
 other consequent. Is it not so in regard to judgment and emotion, 
 when they relate to the conduct of others, as well as when they relate 
 to our own ? And would not the following argument be much the 
 same with the one just quoted? — "In the complex state of mind 
 which arises on the retrospect of the misconduct of others, there is an 
 element which does not exist on the retrospect of our own. This 
 element, viz. the feeling of indignation, resentment, compassion (or 
 whatever else it may be), is not, then, the result of judgment ; it 
 could not have existed if we had had only judgment ; it owes its 
 existence to a distinct susceptibility of the mind." In either case, — 
 the case of ourselves and the case of others, — there is judgment ; — 
 whether you admit the propriety of calling it conscience in the former 
 ease, or not. In either case, this judgment proceeds on the same 
 principles in deciding on the right or wrong of the action. In either 
 case, there are, arising out of the decisions of the judgment, distinct 
 sets of emotions. In either case, these emotions are appropriate to 
 the parties, respectively, whose actions are the subjects of the de- 
 cision. In either case, the judicial decision on the action, and the 
 moral disapprobation of it, are the same ; but the consequent emo- 
 tions differ, according as the actions are our own or those of others. 
 — This appears to me to be all sufficiently plain . If it is not so to 
 others, more words would not make it so. 
 
 There is another objection made by my friend to my first state- 
 ment about conscience, on which I wish to offer a few remarks. — 
 "Besides," says he, "the opinion originally avowed by Dr. Wardlaw 
 mistakes, as I cannot but think, the final end of conscience ; that is, 
 the object intended to be secured by its implantation in the mind. 
 It was designed, I apprehend, not to be a moral guide, but a moral 
 spring ; not to teach us what is right, but to impel us to do it. We 
 have the moral guide in the faculty of judgment ; and as an element 
 of the mental constitution, Ave need no other. But we require an 
 impulsive principle, — something to secure the doing of that which 
 judgment tells us we ought to do. This principle is supplied by 
 conscience." — Page 279. 
 
 In regarding conscience as "not designed to be a moral guide, but a 
 moral spring," Dr. Payne is quite consistent with himself. He 
 excludes the judging faculty from the proper province of conscience 
 altogether. Now, that could not be a guide, in which there was no 
 discerning or discriminating power. But observe : — 
 
 I. z 
 
838 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 1. It is at variance with all the prevailing conceptions, and corre- 
 sponding modes of speech, respecting conscience, which, while it is 
 associated with ideas of self-complacency and remorse, is almost 
 universally understood to be, in one way or another, the faculty by 
 which we distinguish, in our own conduct, right from wrong. It is 
 defined by Dr. Johnson — " The faculty by which we judge of the 
 goodness or wickedness of ourselves." — Professor Wayland, while 
 he holds the " impulsive power " of conscience, associates it with its 
 discriminative power: — "If we reflect," says he, "upon the monition 
 of conscience, we shall find that its office is of a threefold character : 
 — 1. It enables us to discover the moral qualities of actions. 2. It 
 impels us to do right, and to avoid wrong. 3. It is a source of 
 pleasure when we have done right, and of pain when we have done 
 wrong." — Elem. of Moral Science, 3rd Ed. p. 69. — In divesting con- 
 science, then, of its province of judgment or discrimination, and 
 denying it to have been designed as a "moral guide," Dr. Payne is 
 at variance with the prevailing sentiments of writers on morals, 
 (from whom authorities might be multiplied,) and with the general 
 voice of mankind. But this would not prove him wrong. — Observe, 
 then,— 
 
 2. This view of his seems to me inconsistent with the representa- 
 tions of Scripture. I take one passage. It is Rom. ii. 14, 15. In this 
 passage, the Apostle represents the Gentiles, who have not the written 
 law, as " a laio unto themselves," — and their " conscience as bearing wit- 
 ness," in regard to the right or wrong of their conduct. — Now, how 
 could they be " a law unto themselves,'" — and how could conscience 
 by its dictates " bear witness " to the conformity or disconformity of 
 their actions to that law, — if there were nothing in it of the nature 
 of judgment, — nothing discriminative of the moral qualities of those 
 actions ? "Will it be said, that the " susceptibility of emotion " is 
 the law ? No, surely. The law must convict, and a decision be 
 come to, and a sentence passed, according with its dictates, before 
 the " susceptibility of emotion" can be brought into operation. — In 
 the passage, the law of conscience, or the law in the heart, stands in 
 comparison with the written law, or the law in the book. Now, 
 with regard to the latter, we make our appeal to it for a decision as 
 to the rectitude or the sinfulness of any action. There can be no 
 question that the law in the book is a " moral guide." There is not 
 in it any " susceptibility of emotion." But the comparison between 
 the law in the book, and conscience, or the law in the heart, clearly 
 implies, that to the latter also a similar appeal may legitimately be 
 made, for determining what is right and what is wrong ; and that it, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 339 
 
 therefore, must be a "moral guide " as well as the other. It must, 
 indeed, be of the nature of a "moral guide," if it is of the nature of a 
 law. — In both cases, the emotion follows the conviction. If the sus- 
 ceptibility of the emotion alone is to be considered as constituting 
 conscience, I am at a loss to see the correctness of the comparison, or 
 analogy, in the passage. Conscience, hi that case, ceases to be the 
 law, the witness, or the judge ; it becomes the executioner of the 
 sentence : — and how the possession of a faculty that does not point 
 out right and distinguish it from wrong, — that does not show the 
 difference between duty and sin, but simply rewards the perform- 
 ance of the one, and punishes the perpetration of the other, — can 
 render those who are " without law " a " law unto themselves," it 
 will be no easy matter, I think, to show. " By the law is the know- 
 ledge of sin ; " and surely the sin must be known by something 
 anterior to the punishment of it. Men are not to find out the law hi 
 the execution of its penalty. 
 
 3. I do not perceive on what principle the idea of conscience 
 judging and determining is at all inconsistent with that of its being, 
 at the same time, a " moral spring." What hinders its being both, 
 — both arbiter and impulse ? Is there any thing that can more deci- 
 dedly possess the character of a moral spring, or impulse to what is 
 right, than the clear discernment and conviction of its rectitude ? — or is 
 there any thing that can operate more effectually with the force of a 
 moral restraint, than such discernment and conviction of its turpitude? 
 That in vast multitudes of instances the restraint fails, is no proof of 
 its not being real, — nay, is no proof even of its not being strong ; it 
 is a proof only of the superior strength of the principle of corruption, 
 the propensity to evil, in overcoming it : — " Who, knowing the 
 judgment of God, that they who commit such things are worthy of 
 death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do 
 them." — I may illustrate my position by analogy. In the case of a 
 person's hitting upon the application of some principle of science or 
 art to an invention for a particular purpose, — what is the strongest 
 incentive he can have to execute that which he has conceived r Is 
 it not a clear discernment of his principle, — of its suitableness to his 
 invention, — and of the adaptation of his invention to the object to be 
 effected by it, — to the working out of the result? — The judgment 
 thus tells, and is designed to tell, upon the affections and desires, — 
 and the affections and desires upon the volitions, — the determina- 
 tions of the will. The affections are the immediate " moral springs," 
 or incentives to moral action. Hence "love" is said to be "the 
 fulfilling of the law," as being the principle of obedience to ail its 
 
340 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 requirements. Now a clear conviction of rectitude operates upon 
 love, giving it animation and energy in the execution of the duty. I 
 am far from denying that the consequent emotions become also incen- 
 tives or " moral springs." But these emotions themselves are inva- 
 riably proportionate to the clearness of the conviction of the right or 
 the wrong. Exactly according as on this point there is doubt, will 
 the liveliness of either the satisfaction or the remorse be reduced, 
 and the impelling or restraining force be abated ? 
 
 4. When Dr. Payne says — "We have the moral guide in the 
 faculty of judgment ; and, as an element of the mental constitution, 
 we need no other : — but we require an impulsive principle, — some- 
 thing to secure the doing of that which judgment tells us we ought 
 to do : — this principle is supplied by conscience : " — I am tempted 
 to ask, what was man's "impulsive principle " originally? Is there 
 need for more than "judgment telling us what we ought to do," 
 connected with a right state of the affections, the dispositions, the will? 
 If there is clear discernment of what is right, along with a love of 
 rectitude and of the Being whose moral nature is the origin of all 
 rectitude, and whose will, embodying that rectitude in precept, is the 
 law of the intelligent universe, — is there not enough ? Will not this 
 clearness of discernment, and this right state of the affections and 
 the will, suffice to " secure the doing of what the judgment tells us 
 we ought to do " ? Did it not at first ? and, in proportion as, by the 
 grace of God, it has place in the minds and hearts of the renewed, 
 does it not still ? I should apprehend it is by this that the required 
 " something to secure the doing of what the judgment tells us ought 
 to be done " is really " supplied." It is the change of enmity into 
 love that now secures it, as originally-implanted love secured it at 
 first. I do not, by any means, deny that the satisfaction arising 
 from consciousness of right, and the pain of remorse from having 
 done wrong, form an additional element in the power of the im- 
 pulse. 
 
 Notwithstanding Dr. Payne's disclaimer, I am still of opinion 
 that the difference between us is not one which regards the constitu- 
 tion and workings of the mind, — but simply the proprieties of 
 nomenclature. So far as I can see, the real operations of the "inner 
 man" are, on both sides, the very same; the question of difference 
 being merely, to which of these operations the term conscience ought 
 to be applied, — whether to judgment, to susceptibility of j>leasurable 
 and painful emotions, or to both? And I have only to repeat, that 
 perhaps the last of the three is the use of the term most in accord- 
 ance with all the ordinary phraseology respecting it. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 341 
 
 There is another topic in Dr. Payne's occasional strictures (always 
 kind and friendly, though free as truth requires them to be) on the 
 " Christian Ethics," — to which, ere I close this note, I must devote 
 a few sentences. 
 
 It is one of the fundamental principles of this volume, — that man 
 is not now what he teas at his creation, and while he retained his 
 innocence ; and that a large proportion of to hat I take to be the fallacious 
 reasonings and unfounded theories of philosophers on the subject of 
 morals has arisen from their overlooking, or their not admitting, this 
 difference, but drawing their conclusions from what man is, as they 
 now find him, to what he ought to be, — or, as Dr. Payne expresses it, 
 from the " quid est" to the "quid qportet." It was impossible for 
 me to enter into the discussion of the great question of human 
 degeneracy ; — and I was constrained to rest my reasonings upon the 
 assumption of it, — considering myself as arguing with those who, on 
 this and other important correlate points, admitted the authority of 
 the Scriptures. — It is questioned whether, in my manner of treating 
 this subject, I have "given sufficient prominence to the distinction 
 between the powers and the phenomena of mind." "Certain state- 
 ments in that valuable work," says Dr. Payne, " have been con- 
 ceived to imply — no doubt incorrectly — that all is wrong in the 
 mind of man, and morally wrong, before his conversion to God. 
 Now, this is indeed the case with the phenomena, but not with the 
 capacities of the mind. They are all of divine origin, and must 
 accordingly be right. They were implanted by God in the mind of 
 the father of the race, — were transmitted to his descendants, — and, 
 being unchanged by the fall, are now in themselves, though not in 
 their exercise, what they always were, and always ought to be. 
 Adam had understanding and conscience, — the power of distinguish- 
 ing between right and wrong, — of disapproving the one and of 
 approving the other ; — the capacities of hoping, fearing, loving, 
 hating, determining, &c. These faculties constituted, in a very 
 important sense, — it is not necessary to say the only sense, — his 
 intellectual and moral nature," &c. &c. 
 
 I am perfectly at one with Dr. Payne in regarding the capacities, 
 powers, faculties — or whatever else they may be called — of the 
 human mind, as remaining physically or intellectually the same in 
 man in his fallen as they were in his unfallen state (without con- 
 tending about degree), and as being necessary to man's retaining his 
 responsibility as a moral agent. If ever I have said anything in- 
 consistent with this, (of which I am not sensible,) it must have been 
 by an inadvertent incorrectness in expressing my ideas ; which I 
 
342 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 shall be glad to have pointed out to me, that I may shun it in 
 future. — When Dr. Payne says — "These faculties constitute, in a 
 very important sense, his intellectual and moral nature," — he inter- 
 jects the saving clause — "it is not necessary to say in the only 
 sense." It was certainly needful to interject this. I can conceive 
 of no sense in which these faculties can constitute man's moral 
 nature, further than as they are necessary to his being a moral and 
 responsible agent. For surely that could not " constitute his moral 
 nature," strictly and properly so called, in which, it is admitted, 
 there is nothing moral. " It must not, however, be overlooked, that 
 the rectitude thus ascribed to the mental powers, in contradistinction 
 from the mental phenomena, is not of a moral character. It is not 
 the kind of rectitude we ascribe to a thought, or feeling, &c. The 
 rectitude of mental powers is rather physical than moral." I should 
 conceive, then, that the moral nature of man lay properly, not in 
 the mere possession of such faculties as were necessary to moral 
 agency, whether right or wrong, and to moral accountableness, — 
 but in the disposition by which those faculties were inclined and 
 regulated in their exercise : — and that the rectitude of his moral 
 nature consisted in the rectitude of that disposition, — consisted, in a 
 word, essentially in love to God, — or, which is the same thing, in 
 love to that moral excellence, that "beauty of holiness," in which 
 lies the amiableness of the divine character. The tendency of man's 
 moral nature then was all to God and to goodness. The question is 
 — Is it so now ? — all in man remaining unchanged that is necessary 
 to his himself remaining a moral and responsible agent. — No one 
 can be a believer of the testimony of the Bible, nor a truly philoso- 
 phical observer of facts, who can answer this question in the 
 affirmative. There has been a change — a melancholy change — in 
 man's moral dispositions. His moral nature now, viewed as lying 
 thus in the disposition, is not love to God, but " enmity against him" 
 If to the moral state of fallen man I have at any time applied the 
 term "constitution" in a way that is objectionable, as being liable to 
 misapprehension, why " make a man an offender for a word," if his 
 meaning is otherwise sufficiently plain ? 
 
 The rectitude of the faculties themselves being " physical rather 
 than moral," — the morality must he in the rectitude of their exercise. 
 Love to God and to goodness is the right exercise of the capacity of 
 loving. And yet, I confess, it does appear to me to be rather an 
 overstretching of the use of the word phenomena, when it is applied 
 in such a way as to include under it all that can be called moral 
 principle in man. There is nothing moral in the capacity of loving. 
 
t NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 343 
 
 The morality lies in the direction of the love. But the direction of 
 the love — the fixing of it upon right or -wrong objects — is only, it 
 seems, one of the phcnome?ia of mind ! If so, the question obviously 
 recurs — whence the right direction of the capacity of loving ? What 
 is it that fixes the love upon right objects ? It is the moral disposi- 
 tion. Is the disposition, then, to be ranked also with the mere 
 p>henomcna of mind ? Phenomena are appearances, — or facts which 
 present themselves to the observer, whether of external nature or of 
 mind, — and from which, as indications, principles or laics are ascer- 
 tained. The phenomena of light are the facts respecting it, — the 
 appearances which, in different circumstances, it exhibits, by the 
 observation and comparison of which the principles or laws of optics 
 are deduced and settled. And so, of course, with regard to the 
 phenomena of mind. When God made man " in his own image, 
 after his likeness," this surely does not mean merely, nor chiefly, an 
 intellectual resemblance, — a resemblance in the possession of powers 
 that were mental only, and of which "the rectitude was physical 
 rather than moral." Holy rectitude of moral principle or disposition, 
 giving right direction to all that was intellectual and physical, was 
 one of its most essential elements. And surely this holy rectitude 
 of moral disposition is placed too low, when it is ranked among the 
 mere "phenomena of mind." It was itself a principle ; a principle 
 which had its own phenomena, — its own appropriate indicative facts 
 or appearances. And certainly it may be reckoned as having 
 entered into the original constitution of the human mind, — although 
 not in such a sense as to render its continuance necessary to the 
 continuance of man's responsibility. When, sin entered, there was a 
 change. Man now, as he is born into the world, while possessing all 
 the corporeal and mental powers of his original nature, and, in the 
 possession of these, responsible for the use of them, is destitute of 
 the rectitude of disposition which originally imparted to them all 
 their right direction. " Dr. Wardlaw," says Dr. Payne, " in 
 opposing Dr. Brown, and saying, by implication, that our moral 
 constitution, as it now appears, was not formed by God ; must have 
 understood the term constitution, or nature, in another sense," 
 (than the sense in which Dr. Payne conceives it to have been used 
 by Dr. Brown) — "in what may, perhaps, be called its theological 
 sense, or as denoting that lamentable tendency which, beyond all doubt, 
 exists in the mind of man, as a fallen being, to employ all its faculties — 
 its moral nature in the philosophical sense of the term — in rebellion 
 against God." Undoubtedly it was hi this, its theological sense, that 
 I used the term nature, when I spoke of the nature belonging to man 
 
344 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 as a fallen being. Dr. Payne has expressed it again, in different 
 terms, elsewhere : — " But man has not retained his Maker's image. 
 He is a fallen, degenerate being. He calls good evil, and evil good. 
 He puts darkness for light, and light for darkness." (Page 362.) 
 Such is the moral nature that belongs to man noiv. I would suggest 
 to my much-esteemed friend a query, as to the propriety of putting 
 any such gentle and equivocal constructions upon the language of 
 those philosophers, who, beyond a doubt, did not hold the Bible 
 view of our fallen nature. My most settled conviction is, that had 
 Dr. Brown held that view, — had he entertained any belief corre- 
 sponding to the Scripture testimony as to man's apostate and sinful 
 condition, he could not by possibility have reasoned on morals as he 
 has done. And on this account, I must still consider his system as 
 coming under the general sentence of condemnation passed upon it 
 and others in the text. 
 
 The strictures of the American Reviewer, to whom Dr. Payne 
 refers, I have not seen, nor deemed it necessary for me to procure, 
 being persuaded, from the single sentence which my friend quotes 
 from the review, that the observations now made may suffice to meet 
 the general spirit of his objection as indicated in that sentence. 
 
 Note N. Page 149. 
 
 On the absurdities which have been asserted respecting the Divine power 
 and the Divine will. 
 
 It is impossible to imagine any thing more pregnant, not with 
 absurdity only, but with profanity, than some of the assertions 
 which have been made, both with regard to the Divine power in the 
 natural Avorld, and to the Divine will in the moral world, by mystics 
 who have thought that they were giving God glory. When, for 
 example, it has been conceived necessary to Omnipotence, that it 
 should be able to effect contradictions, — such as making a thing to be 
 and not to be at the same time, — or to be in two places at once, — or 
 not to be where it is, — or to be greater or less than itself, — or two 
 and two to be more or fewer than four, &c. — To assert the ability 
 of the Divine power to effect such things, is mere burlesque. The 
 omnipotence of God is his ability to do whatever can be conceived of 
 by the most perfect mind. But contradictions, from their very 
 nature, never can be so conceived of. The truth is, such contradic- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 345 
 
 tions are absolutely nothing: — being contrary to the immutable 
 nature of things, they are destructive of themselves ; so that a power 
 to do them is a power to do — nothing. And the same thing is true 
 of suppositions made respecting the absolute supremacy of the 
 Divine will over good and evil, right atid icrong in the moral world. 
 "When the lengths to which these suppositions have gone is consi- 
 dered, it is not without reason that Sir James Mackintosh speaks of 
 the doctrine which "represents morality to be founded in will " as 
 "the most pernicious of moral heresies." We cannot have a better 
 illustration of the grossness of its folly, or the undesigned though 
 real profanity of its tendencies, than the sentiment which he quotes 
 from "William of Ockham, the most justly celebrated of English 
 schoolmen," — that, "if God had commanded his creatures to hate 
 Himself, the hatred of God would ever be the duty of man." Having 
 cited this sentiment, Sir James adds — "A monstrous hyperbole, 
 into which he was perhaps betrayed by his denial of the doctrine of 
 general ideas, the pre-existence of which in the Eternal Intellect was 
 commonly regarded as the foundation of the immutable nature of 
 morality. The doctrine of Ockham, which, by necessary implication, 
 refuses moral attributes to the Deity, and contradicts the existence 
 of a moral government, is practically equivalent to atheism. As all 
 devotional feelings have moral qualities for their sole objects ; as no 
 being can inspire love or reverence otherwise than by those qualities 
 which are naturally amiable or venerable, this doctrine would, if 
 men were consistent, extinguish piety, or in other words, annihilate 
 religion. Yet, so astonishing are the contradictions of human nature, 
 that this most impious of all opinions probably originated in a pious 
 solicitude to magnify the sovereignty of God, and to exalt his 
 authority even above his own goodness." — Prelim. Diss. p. 310. 
 
 The sentiment, that virtue is founded in the Divine will, is ably 
 combated by Dr. D wight, in the ninety-ninth sermon of his Theo- 
 logy. The consequences arising from it are vividly traced ; while 
 the distinction between virtue being founded in the will of God in 
 regard to its essential principles, and the will of God being the rule 
 or law of duty to his creatures, is kept clearly in view. It should 
 be regarded by us as being quite as great a contradiction in the 
 department of morals, to speak of God's changing, by arbitrary will, 
 the nature of moral rectitude, as in the department of geometry it 
 would be a contradiction to speak of the possible converse of any 
 of its axiomatic principles. It would be to suppose Deity, indeed, 
 to change, by a volition, his own essential and necessary moral 
 nature. 
 
3-16 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NOTE O. Tage 1-33. 
 
 On the a priori (?) argument for the existence and perfections of Deity. — 
 Clarke. — Lowman. 
 
 There certainly is no subject on which it is easier for us to get 
 beyond our depth, than this, of the necessity of the Divine existence 
 and attributes. In illustration of the remark, may, perhaps, be 
 appropriately noticed the statement of Dr. Clarke, as to necessity 
 of existence — that it is not a property consequent upon the supposi- 
 tion of the thing existing, but antecedently (not indeed in time, for 
 nothing can precede eternity, but in the order of nature), antece- 
 dently the cause or ground of that existence. This is exceeding 
 subtile. I confess myself quite at a loss for a clear apprehension of 
 his meaning ; or rather, I should perhaps say, of the possibility of 
 what he means : — of an abstract necessity, possessing an antecedent 
 existence, as the ground or cause of the very existence to which, at 
 the same time, as a property, it pertains I — But, while I cannot compre- 
 hend this, I shall not attempt to make the matter plainer ; for I 
 cannot think a thought about it without losing myself ; and to roam 
 through "wandering mazes," where we can "find no end," but 
 must only have the trouble of groping our way back again, is, to say 
 the least, an unprofitable employment. 
 
 If ever there Avas a mind capable of constructing a clear demon- 
 stration a priori of the being and attributes of God, it was, perhaps, 
 the mind of this most acute philosophical divine. I confess, myself, 
 however, to be more than sceptical as to the possibility of construct- 
 ing such an argument, — one that is, in all respects, entitled to the 
 designation. If I have any right conception at all of an argument 
 a priori, it is an argument hi which, from certain principles or pre- 
 mises, we draw a conclusion as to something that must be, inde- 
 pendently of all opportunity of observing or ascertaining what 
 actually is. For example : — Assuming the existence of an intelligent 
 Being, possessed of perfect wisdom, we conclude that, in the works 
 of such an intelligence, there must, in every instance, be found the 
 perfection of skill. We conclude this a priori; that is, previously to 
 our at all examining, or having any opportunity to examine, the 
 works themselves. The difference between this and the argument 
 a posteriori, is manifest from their very designations. In the latter 
 we are supposed to know the works, and to infer, from the existing 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 347 
 
 marks of skill, the previous existence and operation of a wise intelli- 
 gence. In the former, we reason forward; in the latter, backward: in 
 the former, from what is to what must be; in the latter, from what is 
 to what must have been. Now, in these circumstances, — supposing 
 this idea of an a priori argument to be a correct one, — I am unable 
 to form the most remote conception of such an argument for the 
 Divine existence. The reason is, that there is no principle whatever 
 which can be imagined previous to it, from which the conclusion 
 might be drawn ; a previous necessity being an abstraction of which 
 no conception can be formed by any mind. — Assuming the existence 
 of such a Being, I can form to myself the conception of certain 
 a priori inferences respecting the qualities which must belong to his 
 nature : — but previously to, and independently of, that existence, I 
 cannot conceive of any thing from which it could possibly be in- 
 ferred. The postulate, that something noxo is, is, I grant, a postulate 
 which no man can refuse whose intellect is sound. But still, it is 
 a postulate. It is the assumption of something present, from which 
 we proceed to reason to something past. The argument goes back- 
 ward, — from what now is to what has been. The argument for the 
 existence of Deity drawn from the postulate that something now is, is 
 precisely the same in kind with the argument for the intelligence of 
 Deity drawn from the postulate that something indicative of design 
 now is. When it is said, Something now is, therefore something must 
 always have been, — it is as really an argument a posteriori, as when 
 we say, Here are marks of design, therefore there must have been a 
 designer. The only difference is, that the one relates to simple being, 
 the other to character. They both alike go backward from the present 
 to the past , from what is to what mxist have been. 
 
 Space, and duration, or time, however apparently simple in their 
 nature, are in reality very abstruse. Although they are necessary to 
 all our conceptions of existence, they cannot (as far as I can see) be 
 grounds on Avhich the necessity of existence can legitimately be 
 deduced. To speak of them as qualities, and infer the existence of 
 beings to which, as qualities, they must belong, involves an assump- 
 tion which cannot be granted. Space is that in which all being must 
 exist : duration, or time, is that during which all being must exist. 
 We can form no other conceptions of them. Qualities, in the proper 
 sense of the term, they manifestly are not. To be a pre-requisite to 
 our idea of existence, and to be itself a property of existing beings, 
 are not the same thing : and to conclude that, because space and 
 time are infinite as well as necessary, there must exist, and must 
 always have existed, an infinite Being, to which, as infinite proper- 
 
348 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 ties, they pertain, may sound plausibly, but can have no conclusive- 
 ness, till it has been proved, — which it has not been even by Dr. 
 Clarke's ingenuity, and never can be, — that space and time can have 
 no existence except as properties of being. It is not easy to use consistent 
 terms on matters so abstruse. I -was about to say — except as pro- 
 perties of other beings : but space and time are not themselves sub- 
 stances or beings; — they are abstractions, necessary indeed to our 
 conceptions of all beings ; because, in every attempt to form a 
 conception of any thing existing otherwise than in space and in time, 
 we feel ourselves involved in contradiction ; but not necessarily 
 implying, in the conception of themselves, the conception of any 
 thing else, — inasmuch as, however difficult we may find it to form a 
 notion of space and time as pure abstractions, we are not sensible of 
 contradiction in such a notion. I do not say that we can form any 
 thing like a distinct notion of abstract space and abstract time; but I 
 am greatly mistaken if, in any mind, the notion of space unoccupied 
 by substance, whether material or immaterial, or the notion of time 
 unoccupied and undivided by successive events, is precluded by any 
 sense of contradiction. 
 
 Sir James Mackintosh expresses the same opinion respecting this 
 celebrated argument, entertained by Reid, and Stewart, and others 
 before him : — ' ' Roused by the prevalence of the doctrine of Spinoza 
 and Hobbes, he (Clarke) endeavoured to demonstrate the being and 
 attributes of God, from a few axioms and definitions, after the 
 manner of geometry ; an attempt in which, with all his powers of 
 argument, it must be owned that he is compelled sometimes tacitly 
 to assume what the laws of reasoning required him to prove ; and 
 that, on the whole, his failure may be regarded as a proof that such 
 a mode of argument is beyond the faculties of man." — Prelim. Diss. 
 p. 327. 
 
 Addition to the preceding Note. — Third Edition. 
 
 While preparing the third edition of these Lectures for the press, 
 there happened to come in my way " Lowman's Argument to prove 
 the Unity and Perfections of God a priori," as republished in " the 
 Cabinet Library of scarce and celebrated Tracts." To this edition of 
 the Argument, a preface is prefixed by the Rev. Dr. John Pye Smith, 
 a man whose judgment, when I chance to differ from him, makes 
 me always suspicious of my own. After referring to the valuable, 
 though far from unobjectionable, " Discourse of Natural Theology" 
 by Lord Brougham, and expressing his conviction that his lordship 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 349 
 
 " appears less favourable to this argument" (the argument a 2>riori in 
 general) " than he is, or intended to represent himself," — and citing 
 a part of the eminent author's words in support of this conviction, — 
 the Doctor adds : — "I venture to think, that, if Lord Brougham had 
 turned from the somewhat disadvantageous form in which the argu- 
 ment was presented by Dr. Samuel Clarke, to the pure and simple 
 enunciation of Lowman, he would have raised higher his valuation 
 of it." 
 
 I must venture to dissent from this opinion ; and, without at all 
 adverting to the views of the argument given by Lord Brougham, — 
 which would require more both of space and time than I can at pre- 
 sent spare, — I beg leave to submit a remark or two on the " pure 
 and simple enunciation of Lowman." 
 
 I have an objection, in limine, to the definition given of an argu- 
 ment, -a priori^ — that is, in as far as it refers to the Divine existence, 
 which is really the point that involves the principal difficulty. The 
 definitions of the argument a j^'iori and the argument a posteriori, 
 stand thus : — " An argument a, priori is what proves the attributes, 
 the secondary qualities, or effects of beings, from their natures, pri- 
 mary qualities, or definitions :" — "An argument a posteriori is what 
 proves the primary qualities, or natures of things, from their effects, 
 or secondary qualities." Now, in both these definitions, as it appears 
 to me, being, or existence, is presupposed. In proving "the attri- 
 butes, the secondary qualities, or effects of beings, from their natures, 
 primary qualities, or definitions," the existence is assumed or sup- 
 posed of the beings to which the "natures" or the "primary qua- 
 lities" belong, or which the "definitions" characterize. The very 
 terms of the definition, therefore, tend to confirm me in the convic- 
 tion I have expressed above, of the impossibility of framing any argu- 
 ment that is strictly and properly a priori in proof of the Divine 
 existence; inasmuch as we have here only another exemplification of 
 the impracticability of so much as defining such an argument, — of so 
 much as putting it into words, — without involving the previous as- 
 sumption of the existence to be proved. The definition thus given 
 is not the definition of an argument by which existence is proved, but 
 of an argument by which, existence being presupposed, one descrip- 
 tion of the qualities of that existence is proved from another descrip- 
 tion of its qualities: — "natures, primary qualities, definitions," from 
 which the proof is extracted, as really implying the existence of 
 "beings" to which they pertain, as " attributes, secondary qualities, 
 or effects," to which the proof is directed : — nay, the assumption 
 being manifestly contained in the very use of the word " beings" itself. 
 
350 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 But, passing these and the other definitions, and passing also the 
 axioms, which no one -will dispute, let us go to the demonstration. — 
 I confine myself at present entirely to the first point, that, namely, of 
 necessary existence; this being, as I have said, the point where the 
 difficulty principally lies. The three propositions which immediately 
 relate to this point are the three which lie first in order. They are 
 these : — " I. Existence is possible. II. All possible existence is 
 
 EITHER NECESSARY OR CONTINGENT. III. SOME EXISTENCE IS NECES- 
 SARY, IF ANY EXISTENCE IS POSSIBLE." 
 
 Of the first and second of these propositions, I shall at once admit 
 the truth. — I grant that everything is possible which does not involve 
 a contradiction ; and that, since existence involves no contradiction, 
 existence is possible. It might, however, I think, be fairly con- 
 tended, that even in the very proposition, " existence is possible," per- 
 fectly abstract as it seems, existence is presupposed. Descartes pro- 
 posed, as a proof of his own existence, his conscious thought : " Cogito 
 — ergo sum." But to this it was justly objected, that the very verb 
 cogito itself involved the personal existence to be proved ; that the " / 
 think" necessarily presupposed the " / am ;" the existence which is 
 inferred from the thought, being itself, of necessity, previous to the 
 thought. Now, to me it appears, that the proposition before us, 
 though more abstract in its form, as being divested of everything 
 personal, is liable — and that every proposition that can be framed on 
 the subject is liable — to the same objection. It will not be ques- 
 tioned, that in the simple proposition, " existence is possible," there 
 is implied a conception of existence. But where is this conception ? 
 Can a conception exist anywhere else than in a conceiving mind ? 
 And does not the existence of the conception of existence thus neces- 
 sarily presuppose existence itself? Here is just the "cogito" of 
 Descartes. The mind that frames the proposition is necessary to the 
 very conception of the existence that is the subject of the proposition, 
 — and is itself conscious of the certainty of existence, at the very 
 moment when it only predicates its possibility. Thus the postulate, 
 that, "something may be," unavoidably involves the postulate, that 
 " something is," — the mind, namely, by which the former postulate 
 is conceived and expressed. 
 
 But, passing from this, and taking the proposition " existence is 
 possible" — in all it& pure abstraction, I profess myself incapable of 
 conceiving how reality can ever be demonstrated from possibility. If 
 possibility be all that is in the premises, can there, on any principle of 
 legitimate reasoning, be reality in the conclusion ? — This question pre- 
 sented itself to my mind, on the instant of reading the primary propo- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 351 
 
 sition, on which the entire demonstration is of course to be considered 
 as based. My first impression in answer to it was, — No : and this 
 impression was only strengthened into conviction, as I proceeded with 
 the successive steps of the demonstration. 
 
 I have admitted the truth of the first and second propositions, — 
 that " existence is possible," and that " all possible existence is either 
 necessary or contingent ," — i. e. either what must be or what may or may 
 not be. But I cannot so readily concede the third — " Some existence is 
 necessary, if any existence is possible." From the proposition, or pos- 
 tulate, that " Something is" it is not difficult to see how we can 
 arrive by a chain of demonstration, of which the links are indisso- 
 luble, at the incontrovertible conclusion, that* something must always 
 have been. From the assumption of actual existence we can, most 
 legitimately, and most irrefragably, reach to necessary existence. But 
 how necessity can be deduced from mere possibility, I am utterly at a 
 loss to understand : how from what merely may be, we can ever 
 establish what must be. The conclusion surely can never have more 
 of certainty in it than the basis on which it rests ; so that from the 
 possibility of existence I am unable to understand how we can ever get 
 higher than the possibility of necessary existence. But let us test the 
 proof of this third proposition. Its steps are as follow : — 
 
 "All possible existence is either contingent or necessary, by 
 Proposition Second." — Granted. 
 
 " If all existence is contingent, and none necessary, then all ex- 
 istence may not be, as well as it may be, by Definition Fifth:" — 
 (" Contingent existence is such as may be or may not be.") — 
 Granted. 
 
 " What may not be, cannot be, without a prior cause of existence, 
 by Axiom Fust :" — (" All effects must have some cause.") 
 
 Here I halt. The axiom, be it remembered — that " all effects 
 must have some cause" — is the very principle of the a posteriori 
 argument. Now, in regard to the principle of reasoning, it makes no 
 difference whether the subject be actual or hypothetical existence ; 
 excepting that in the one case" we are conducted to an actual, and in 
 the other, to only a hypothetical conclusion. The specific character 
 of the argument is the same, when we reason on a supposed, as when 
 we reason on an actual fact. Mark, then, the next step in the series 
 of proof : — 
 
 " If then all possible existence were only contingent, all existence 
 would be impossible, as an effect without a cause." 
 
 Now, observe what we have got here. The argument is hypo- 
 thetical. " Possible existence" is that which is assumed ; — and, from 
 
352 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 the axiomatic necessity of every effect having a cause, it is inferred 
 that the possible existence cannot be all contingent ; — that is, that, 
 in the hypothetical form of the argument, some existence must be 
 necessanj. Why, what is this, after all, but the good old a posteriori 
 argument, — only with the disadvantage of being merely hypothetical, 
 — of beginning and ending in the possible, and not in the actual or 
 real! Suppose we were to divest the statement of its hypothetical 
 form, — suppose we were to bring it out of the region of possibility 
 into that of assumed reality, — how would it stand ? Its hypothetical 
 form is — " If all possible existence were only contingent, all existence 
 would be impossible, as an effect without a cause :" — its actual form 
 would be — " If all existence were only contingent, then all existence 
 would be non-existence, as an effect without a cause." In the one 
 case, possible existence is assumed, and then, on a certain supposition, 
 proved impossible; in the other, existence is assumed, and, on the 
 same supposition, proved non-existence, — that is, the supposition, in 
 either case, is shown to lead to a contradiction ; and the principle of 
 the proof is the a posteriori axiom, that " every effect must have a 
 cause." 
 
 If it shall be said, in reply to this, that 2)ossible existence is not 
 assumed, but has been proved — "proved from its very nature as not 
 impossible, — i. e. as not including a contradiction:" — I answer, 
 neither, on the same principle, is existence assumed, but has been 
 proved from the very existence of the conception of existence, which 
 necessarily presupposes the existence of a conceiving mind. 
 
 It does appear to me, indeed, that in the very announcement of 
 the proposition — " Some existence is necessary if any existence is 
 possible" — there is a self-evident fallacy : — inasmuch as it does not 
 follow from the possibility of existence that there must be existence 
 at all : — actual existence can never be proved from possible existence ; 
 and, unless actual existence be either proved or assumed, I confess 
 myself unable to imagine any ground on which a proof of necessary 
 existence can rest. I have tried to discern a difference in principle 
 between the proposition, " Some existence is necessary, if any existence 
 is possible,'" and the proposition, " Existence is necessary if existence 
 is possible," but I have not been able to make it out. Both appear 
 to me alike to involve the absurdity of directly inferring cer- 
 tainty from possibility, and concluding that because a thing may be 
 it must be. 
 
 It follows, accordingly, in the demonstration of the Proposition : — 
 
 "To suppose all existence i?npossible, is contrary to Proposition 
 First : — (Existence is possible.) 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 353 
 
 " There must, therefore, be some other existence besides con- 
 tingent ; that is, there must be some necessary existence, as all 
 possible existence is contingent or necessary, by Proposition Second : 
 — (All possible existence is either necessary or contingent.") 
 
 I have the same objection here. The conclusion is beyond the 
 premises. The premises affirmed only possible existence. The con- 
 clusion, therefore, ought to be — not, " There must be some other 
 existence besides contingent" — but, " There must be some other 
 possible existence besides contingent." The first proposition being 
 only "Existence is possible;" unless it could be deduced from this 
 that existence must be, how can it ever be deduced from it that neces- 
 sary existence must bet The conclusion appears to be reached by 
 jumping over an intermediate step, which is essential to its legi- 
 timacy. To arrive at the necessity of necessary existence, without 
 having proved the necessity, or the certainty, of existence at all, is 
 inadmissible. I must have proof of existence, before I can have proof 
 of necessary existence. But how, I repeat, actual existence can ever 
 be proved from p>ossible existence, I am at a loss to conceive. 
 
 This, in a word, appears to be the pervading fallacy of the entire 
 demonstration. — Thus : — " The proof for the possibility of existence 
 will remain good, unless the impossibility of existence could be shown; 
 for that will remain possible, which is not impossible ; or, what is 
 the same in argument, which does not appear impossible. 
 
 " Now iheiiossibility of contingent existence evidently supposes some 
 necessary existence ; without which all existence would be impossible. 
 This clearly shows some existence is necessary, or all existence is 
 impossible." 
 
 I would speak with diffidence ; but there does appear to me, in such 
 reasoning, a singular confusion. — The first position in the demonstra- 
 tion is — "Existence is possible." This position is proved by the 
 simple consideration of its being not impossible, — which, though it has 
 at first the appearance of proving idem per idem, may be allowed con- 
 clusive, when not impossible is explained as meaning — not including a 
 contradiction. But the confusion lies here. The first position being 
 granted, that " existence is possible,"— there afterwards comes out 
 the further position, that " without necessary existence all existence is 
 impossible." Strange ! From the assumed or proved position that 
 " existence is possible," we are in full expectation of rising, by some 
 regular steps, to the proof of necessary existence. But what do we 
 actually arrive at ? Why, at the necessity of necessary existence to the 
 possibility of any existence ! Existence is possible : — but without 
 necessary existence all existence is possible :— that is (is it not ?) the 
 I. A A 
 
354 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 very thing to be proved is necessary to the establishment of the posi- 
 tion from which the proof of it was to be derived. That " existence 
 is possible," is the source of the inference, that "some existence is 
 necessary :" — but the inference that " some existence is necessary " 
 is, reciprocally, the basis of the position that " existence is possible ;" 
 inasmuch as " without some necessary existence, all existence would 
 be impossible." "What is this but to say, that some existence is neces- 
 sary in order to any existence being possible? — that existence is 
 necessary, to account for existence, — to account for itself? The 
 error appears to lie in arguing about contingent existence and necessary 
 existence as if they were two distinct things : — whereas they are no more 
 than different modes of the same thing ; and, unless the thing itself — 
 existence namely — of which they are the modes, be either proved or 
 assumed, we may argue for ever about modes, and never arrive at any 
 thing real. Even, however, in the argument about the modes, there 
 is, I think, the palpable fallacy which has just been pointed out ; a 
 fallacy which may be stated even more strongly thus : — ■" Without 
 some necessary existence, all existence would be impossible:" but 
 "necessary existence is actual existence, actual existence being in- 
 cluded in the very nature of it," "all existence being the existence 
 of something, or real existence :" — from which it follows, that exist- 
 ence is necessary, in order to existence being possible ; — that the exist- 
 ence of something is necessary to the existence of any thing I 
 
 It appears to me indispensable, in order to the framing of any con- 
 sistent argument upon the subject, that we assume existence — actual 
 existence — the postulate that something is. From the demonstration 
 before us, it appears, that even the possibility of existence does not 
 admit of a self-consistent proof. Both its possibility and its reality 
 must be assumed as amongst first truths. But the moment we do as- 
 sume existence, we leave the department of a, priori argumentation, — 
 and get immediately into the proof a posteriori, ascending from the 
 postulate that something is to the conclusion that something must alivays 
 have been, — from actual to necessary existence. 
 
 After what has been said, I should be guilty of tiresome repetition 
 (as I fear I may to some appear to have been already) were I to com- 
 ment at any length on what might be considered as the summing up, 
 or concentration of the argument on this head. I refer to the follow- 
 ing paragraph, in page 15 : — " To oppose the proof in the foregoing 
 propositions, it should be shown, either that all existence is in its 
 own nature impossible, or that there is something in the nature of 
 necessary existence to make necessary existence impossible ; upon 
 which the impossibility of all existence would follow : otherwise it 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 355 
 
 will remain according to the rules of right reasoning, not impossible ; 
 that is, it will remain possible ; and if possible, then necessary ; else 
 it would be possible and impossible at the same time, which is a 
 manifest contradiction." Here is the same fallacy. Suppose it 
 admitted, that, unless all existence were, directly or indirectly, — 
 in its own nature, or through the medium of the impossibility of 
 necessary existence, — proved to be impossible, — it would remain not 
 impossible, — and that this amounts to the same thing as its remain- 
 ing possible; — the fallacy lurks in the subsequent step — "and if 
 possible, then necessary :" — for here it seems to be forgotten, that 
 when the necessity is deduced from the possibility, it is deduced 
 from that which cannot be, without the previous necessity, — inasmuch 
 as "without some necessary existence all existence would be im- 
 possible." There is no ground on which the conclusion — "if pos- 
 sible, then necessary" — can rest, except the ground, that unless 
 necessary it would not be possible. The reductio ad absurdum, there- 
 fore, goes for nothing, and rather lies with the demonstration itself, 
 in which the necessity is as necessary to the possibility, as the pos- 
 sibility is to the necessity, in which the truth of the conclusion is as 
 necessary to the truth of the premises from which it is drawn, as the 
 truth of the premises is to that of the conclusion ; the premises rest- 
 ing on the conclusion as much as the conclusion upon the premises. 
 Existence must be possible, in order to its being necessary ; and it 
 must be necessary, in order to its being possible. The possibility 
 and the necessity being thus, reciprocally, necessary to each other, 
 the preceding state of the argument might be inverted, and the pos- 
 sibility proved from the necessity, by the same species of reductio ad 
 absurdum as that by which the necessity is proved from the possi- 
 bility, thus : — All existence must be either necessary or not neces- 
 sary ; — if all existence be not necessary, then no existence is possible, 
 on the principle that " some existence is necessary, or all existence 
 is impossible ; " — unless it be shown to be not necessary, it will remain, 
 according to the rules of right reasoning, not not-necessary ; i. e., it 
 will remain necessary, and if necessary, then possible, else it would be 
 necessary and not necessary at the same time, which is a manifest 
 contradiction. ^ 
 
 I grant, that proving 2 3 °ssibility from necessity has the reality as 
 well as the appearance of being exceedingly absurd : — but the ab- 
 surdity is not mine ; it belongs to the principles of this demon- 
 stration, in at once assuming the possibility of existence as its primary 
 basis, — the basis of the proof of necessity, — and yet maintaining that 
 all existence is impossible, unless some existence be necessary. 
 
356 NOTES AND ILLUSTBATIONS. 
 
 I mean not to press the examination of this professedly a priori 
 argument further. The examination of it thus far, — that is, on the 
 principal point of difficulty, necessary existence, — has only served to 
 settle me in the conviction already expressed, that a strictly a, priori 
 argument in support of it cannot be framed ; — an argument that does 
 not, in some form or other, assume existence, and so resolve itself, in 
 its very principle, into an argument a posteriori. 
 
 Note P. Page 186. 
 
 On Hartley s Laxo of Association, as applied to the order and develop- 
 ment of the Virtues, and especially of Theopathy . 
 
 I hate represented the religious principle, the love of God, as the 
 first principle of morals, and indispensable as the motive in all that 
 bears the name of virtue. Amongst the ingenious speculations of 
 Hartley, in which he endeavours to discover the origination, and 
 trace the progressive development, of the various passions, desires, 
 and affections of the human mind, by the laxo of association, we find 
 him representing piety, or, as he terms it, theopathy, as the last in 
 order of the virtues thus generated. In the manner in which he 
 accounts, by a process equally natural according to his fundamental 
 law, for the origination both of the virtuous and vicious affections, 
 there is no recognition of the scripture doctrine of human depravity. 
 The religious affections, the love and the fear of God, are the product 
 of the same natural law of association by which all the rest are 
 explained. He admits, indeed, that "piety in general, and amongst 
 the bulk of mankind, is not had in great honour."* — But how does 
 he account for this ? Not from the depraved tendencies of human 
 nature, — not from the " enmity against God," which is predicated of 
 it in the Scriptures, and which it requires divine influence to coun- 
 teract and cure ; but, amongst other causes of a similar complexion, 
 from its being " in the order of our progress the last of the virtues, 
 so that, having few votaries, it must have few advocates. "f The 
 other causes enumerated by him are such as imply no dislike of true 
 piety, but only of superstition, enthusiasm, and hypocrisy. In 
 making religion, by a process which begins with self, and rises 
 through the various gradations of the social affections, the last of the 
 
 * Priestley's Hartley, p. 2S6. t Ibid. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 357 
 
 virtues, which may ultimately swallow up all the others, — it is 
 assumed that the previous desires and passions and affections, com- 
 monly reckoned among the virtues, are virtuous independently of the 
 religious principle, — and that the " theopathetic affection " is only an 
 additional one, of a higher order, and naturally generated out of the 
 rest. We are more than jealous of such a representation ; as if 
 piety were only the last and loftiest height, to which we are to 
 mount through all the inferior grades of virtue. We must contend, 
 that in all these inferior virtues piety must be their spirit and prin- 
 ciple to entitle them to the designation ; — that, while there is in the 
 fallen nature of man, a melancholy aversion to God and godliness, 
 yet, by his blessing on parental tuition, the simple principles of piety 
 may be introduced to influential operation at a very early stage, and 
 that God may thus "perfect praise out of the mouths of babes and 
 sucklings." — At all events, the whole system is out of order, when 
 piety, instead of being introduced at the root, to pervade, with its 
 vivifying and fructifying influence, the whole tree, in its great 
 branches and remotest twigs, is to be looked for at the top, after the 
 consummation of its growth, — as the crowning fruit, rather than 
 as the productive germ, — as the completion of human excellence 
 and human happiness, rather than as the first principle of human 
 duty. 
 
 A similar objection may be considered as lying against the state- 
 ment contained in the closing sentence of Sir James Mackintosh's 
 summary of the moral theory of Butler, in the sentiment of which, 
 from subsequent expressions of his own, the commentator appears to 
 acquiesce: " Moral distinctions are thus presupposed, before a step 
 can be made towards religion : virtue leads to piety : God is to be 
 loved, because goodness is the object of love ; and it is only after the 
 mind rises through human morality to divine perfection, that all the 
 virtues and duties are seen to hang from the throne of God." — 
 Trelbn. Dissert, p. 345. Thus we have virtue without piety ; — 
 morality independent of, and introductory to, religion ; — and love to 
 an abstract goodness as the foundation and reason of our love to God, 
 although it is in the eternal and necessary nature of God that all 
 goodness has its origin and its prototype, and although it is its con- 
 formity to this nature that constitutes goodness what it is. Were 
 not human nature hi a fallen and apostate condition, a sense of God 
 would enter the soul with the first dawn of reason, and " growing 
 with its growth, and strengthening with its strength," would be the 
 habitually controlling principle of every movement of the inner, and 
 every action of the outer man. 
 
358 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Note Q. Page 191. [Second Edition.'] 
 
 On the identity of Morality and Religion. — British Magazine. 
 
 In the sentence to which this note is affixed, the reader has a sum- 
 mary of the doctrine it is my anxious desire to establish and recom- 
 mend hi this Lecture, as well as generally throughout the volume ; — 
 "Irrcligion and moral principle cannot exist together in the same 
 bosom ; for irreligion is the rejection of that authority in which all 
 moral obligation has its origin : — and to live without God is necessarily 
 to live without virtue.'* In the British Magazine for January 1834, 
 amidst much that is favourable, for which I thank the unknown re- 
 viewer, there is one general objection insisted upon, as, to a certain 
 extent, pervading and vitiating the whole work — namely, that the 
 subject is treated too theologically, — there being "an almost exclusive 
 attention to theology, and a neglect of the science of ethics as a dis- 
 tinct science ;" — that the science of ethics "has no place" assigned it 
 " among pure and separate sciences;" — that, in a word, "the science 
 of pure ethics has been left untouched." — This theological mode of con- 
 templating and discussing the subject, it is alleged, while it "stamps 
 upon the work a high value in its most important character, and pre- 
 pares us to expect from it much Christian instruction, still renders it 
 improbable, that the science of ethics will be recognised by the author 
 distinctly and independently, or at least that in that character it will 
 receive justice at his hands." — "After disclaiming all controversy 
 with the atheist and the infidel, and supposing in limine the authen- 
 ticity and authority of the Bible to be admitted, he proceeds, in his 
 first Lecture, to lay down, the respective provinces of philosophy and 
 theology. And here we think that his remarks first exhibit that 
 almost exclusive attention to theology, and that neglect of the science 
 of ethics as a distinct science, to which we have already adverted. A 
 few passages will exhibit clearly Dr. W.'s view of the 'respective 
 provinces' of the two sciences. In our humble opinion, they go far 
 to show, that ho assig?is to one of them no province at all." — I most 
 readily grant it. It is my very object to show, that the science of 
 morals has "no province at all" independently of theology ; and that 
 it cannot be philosophically discussed except on theological principles. 
 The purport of the first Lecture is not, as the reviewer has inaccu- 
 rately expressed it, to "lay down the respective provinces of the two 
 sciences " as if I admitted their mutually independent existence, that 
 of morals as independent of theology, or that of theology as inde- 
 pendent of morals, and had hi view to define the bounding lines. No 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTEATIONS. 359 
 
 such thing. The object is to show, that there can be no such bound- 
 ing lines drawn between them ; that the separation is unreasonable and 
 mischievous ; and that that philosophy is most unphilosophical, 
 which, on such a subject, either fails to examine the claims of the 
 sacred volume, or, when its claims have been substantiated, refuses 
 to bow to its authority. The observations of the reviewer have 
 only served to impress me the more strongly with the importance 
 of maintaining the position which I have assumed. I avow, with- 
 out reserve, that I own no such science as the "distinct and in- 
 dependent" science of "pure ethics," — that is, of ethics in- 
 dependent of theology, — of morals independent of religion. I 
 consider the admission of this independent science of pure ethics as 
 one of the fundamental and pervading errors of almost all our systems 
 of moral philosophy ; and one to which even Christian writers have 
 too frequently given what I cannot but regard as an inconsiderate and 
 mischievous countenance. I am sorry that the light in which I have 
 endeavoured to set this subject, in the first and seventh Lectures, 
 should not have met the approbation of the reviewer ; for there is no 
 point on which I feel more solicitous that Christian students of the 
 science of morals should take the high ground which, it appears to 
 me, the standard to which they all appeal represents as the only 
 legitimate one. 
 
 After a citation or two from Lect. I., the reviewer says: — "These 
 preliminary statements appear to us to proceed upon the assumption, 
 which we think erroneous, that the Bible contains all the prin- 
 ciples of ethics ; in fact, that it (ethics) has no place among pure and 
 separate sciences, — that it is not to be considered as that science 
 which teaches the social duties owed by man to man, and those alone ; 
 in fact, they seem to deny that there is a set of principles on which 
 men owe duties to each other, irrespectively of their duty to the 
 Supreme Being, and whether or not they know and believe in the one 
 true God." — They not only seem to deny it ; they do deny it : — and 
 the grounds of the denial are more fully brought out, whether satis- 
 factorily or not, in the seventh Lecture, " On the Identity of Morality 
 and Religion." I avow, and reiterate the avowal, that I acknowledge 
 no "set of principles on which men owe duties to each other, irrespect- 
 ively of their duty to the Supreme Being : " — for the duties which men 
 owe to each other, and the social principles from which they must be 
 discharged, form a part of the will of that Being ; and it is as a part of 
 his will, from a due regard to his authority, that they must be done. 
 My views on this subject are summarily expressed in these sentences : 
 — "According to the Scriptures, then, there is no morality without 
 
360 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 religion ; for of the two great principles in which the law of God is 
 summed up, the first is the religious principle. And it stands first, 
 not as insulated from the other, and capable of being neglected while 
 the other is duly obeyed ; but as demanding the first attention, and 
 indispensable to that moral state of the heart, that is necessary to any 
 acceptable obedience whatever. " — Lcct. "VII. I earnestly wish this 
 position sifted to the uttermost ; being fully persuaded, that the more 
 closely it is investigated, the more strongly will it recommend itself to 
 the Christian mind, as the doctrine of the Holy Scriptures and of en- 
 lightened reason. 
 
 I speak not now of the specialities of obligation to love God, arising 
 from the peculiar discoveries of the gospel. These are discussed in 
 the conchuling Lecture. But if the law of nature, or of conscience, 
 do not teach men who are destitute of revelation, that love to God is 
 the first and highest of then obligatory principles, and the foundation 
 of all the rest, — this is only an affecting evidence of the degeneracy 
 of then* nature. It was not so originally. Love to God was the fun- 
 damental and pervading principle of the entire system of primitive 
 morality. I have, therefore, no idea of its being "more natural and 
 nearer to the truth, " as this reviewer alleges, "to assign as the funda- 
 mental principle of ethical morality, the conformity of conduct to the 
 dictates of conscience, leaving the further instructions and precepts 
 of Christianity as an independent and additional light, of which com- 
 paratively few are cognizant:" — because either conscience dictates, 
 independently of revelation, the love of God as the principle of all 
 virtue, or it does not. If it does, then it establishes my position, that 
 there is no morality without religion, by recognising the religious 
 principle as the essential element of virtue : — if it does not, arc Ave to 
 assume as the "fundamental principle of ethical morality" a facility 
 which (call it by what name you will) leaves out, in its estimate of 
 character, what, according to revelation, is the first and most essential 
 element in all moral duty ? It is the sin and guilt of man, that con- 
 science does not teach him this elementary lesson, as well as revela- 
 tion : and its failure in this is one of the principal considerations by 
 which its incompetency to be a sure and adequate criterion, or 
 standard, of moral rectitude, is evinced. I have no conception of a 
 system of "pure ethics," in which the Divine Being has no place. 
 Such pure ethics are impure, — the offspring of a nature that is 
 "enmity against God." That cannot be the " fundamental principle 
 of ethical morality " which leaves out the foundation altogether. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 361 
 
 Note It. Page 200. 
 On Dr. Chalmers' views of the law of Love to our Neighbour. 
 
 I have mentioned amongst the excellencies of this precept, its 
 simplicity. It is unembarrassed by metaphysical and abstract subtleties. 
 It is level to every capacity. Every man at once apprehends and feels 
 it. The weakest mind can understand, and the slenderest memory 
 retain it. I do not mean to say, that it is incapable of being per- 
 verted, of having any objections or difficulties started against it by a 
 crooked and ingenious casuistry. "What is there of which this can 
 be affirmed ? There are not a few precepts, which, when they are 
 applied to the conduct of others, we instantly understand and approve, 
 which we like not so well, and are consequently dexterous in con- 
 troverting, when they bear upon ourselves ; — precepts, of which we 
 like better to be the objects than the subjects. In these different circum- 
 stances, selfishness prompts to diversity of interpretation, and to con- 
 sider that as unreasonable for others to expect from us, which we 
 should deem it quite fair and moderate for us to expect from them. 
 A rule may, in itself, be admirable both for its justice and its simplicity, 
 although it is not beyond the possibility of being twisted and tortured 
 by a selfish policy. 
 
 There is a view which has been taken of the precept by an eminent 
 authority, on which I wish to offer in this note a few brief remarks. 
 It has been regarded as a precept which admits of no limitation, but 
 must be interpreted to the letter ; so that a man who, under the domi- 
 nion of selfishness, forms and cherishes unreasonable desires and 
 expectations, brings himself, ipso facto, under obligation to act, in his 
 conduct to others, according to the full extent of those desires and 
 expectations. " There is no distinction laid down," says Dr. Chalmers, 
 " between things fair and things unfair, between things reasonable 
 and things unreasonable. Both are comprehended in the 'all things 
 whatsoever.' The signification is plain and absolute, that, let the 
 thing be what it may, if you wish others to do that thing for you, it lies 
 imperatively on you to do the very same thing for them also. You may 
 wish your next-door neighbour to present you with half his fortune. 
 In this case, we know not how you are to escape from the conclusion, 
 that you are bound to present him with the half of yours. Or you 
 may wish a relation to burden himself with the expenses of all your 
 family. It is then impossible to save you from the positive obligation, 
 if you are equally able for it, of doing the same service to the family 
 of another." — "Let a man give himself up to a strict and literal 
 
362 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 observance of the precept in this verse, " (Matt. vii. 12, the text of his 
 discourse,) " and it will impress a two-fold direction upon him. It 
 will not only guide him to certain performances of good in behalf of 
 others, but it will guide him to the regulation of his own desires of 
 good from them. The more selfish and unbounded his desires are, 
 the larger are those performances with the obligation of which he is 
 burdened. The more he gives way to ungenerous and extravagant 
 wishes from those who are around him, the heavier and more in- 
 supportable is the load of duty which he brings upon himself. The 
 commandment is quite imperative, and there is no escaping from it ; 
 and if he, by the excess of his selfishness, should render it imprac- 
 ticable, then the whole pimishment due to the guilt of casting aside 
 the authority of this commandment follows in that train of punish- 
 ment which is annexed to selfishness. There is one way of being 
 relieved from such a burden. There is one way of reducing this pre- 
 cept to a moderate and practicable requirement ; and that is, just to 
 give up selfishness — just to stifle all ungenerous desires — just to 
 moderate every wish of service or liberality from others down to the 
 standard of what is right and equitable, " &c. — Discourses on the Appli- 
 cation of Christianity to the commercial and ordinary Concerns of Life. 
 Disc. V. 
 
 This view of the matter, which places the check on the indulgence 
 of our own desires, and allows of no other limit to the obligation but 
 the repression of selfish and extravagant wishes, is exceedingly in- 
 genious and simple ; it is amply and finely illustrated ; and I am not 
 disposed unqualifiedly to controvert it. It appears, however, in some 
 points, to require not a little caution in the adoption and application of 
 it. I do not at all dispute the propriety and the obligation of keeping 
 our own desires and expectations under due limitation and control. 
 But I am entitled to make the supposition of this reasonable obliga- 
 tion having been transgressed, and of some such unreasonable Mashes 
 having been formed as those which in the preceding extracts are 
 specified — the wish of half our neighbour's fortune, or of his under- 
 taking the support of all our family. It is here that the question of 
 casuistry arises. In such a case, are we under obligation, by the law 
 of God, to do to the person from whom we have looked for such 
 things, or to some other, according to the full amount of our extrava- 
 gant wishes ? Here I hesitate. The wish in itself is, on the supposi- 
 tion, unreasonable and wrong. It is improper, and inconsistent with 
 the divine law, for me to form and entertain it. Does it then, by the 
 circumstance of my having thus formed and entertained it, become 
 right, and even obligatory, to act upon it towards another? — right 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 363 
 
 and obligatory to do what it is wrong and culpable to wish ? It is 
 true, that it is the duty of all alike, of others as well as of ourselves, 
 to keep theh desires under control, and to suppress such wishes : — but 
 in such a world, this is what we have no reason to expect. The question 
 relates, not to the duty of restraining them, but to what is duty when 
 the restraint has been forgotten: — and I repeat the question, Can it 
 be right for me to do what it is wrong for me to wish ? Let me illus- 
 trate my meaning by the supposition of a case of a still clearer and 
 more decisive kind. I may desire from another that which is not 
 merely extravagant and unreasonable, but in its nature unlawful. 
 True, it is a sinful desire ; and I ought not to indulge or even to form 
 it. But that is not the point. It must be supposed, that I have 
 formed and indulged it. It is clear that my having done so can never 
 render it right for me, far less obligatory, to do to another what I 
 have wished done for myself. A man may wish, a thing, which, if 
 done for him, might benefit the interests of others, but, if done by 
 him, would be very detrimental to those interests. Can it become 
 his duty to do it because he has wished it, when it is thus to prove in- 
 jurious to others as well as to himself? A selfish man may desire to 
 have all his wishes gratified together. Does this lay him under obli- 
 gation to gratify all the wishes of others ? That would be to forget 
 that the wishes of others, and their general state of mind, may be as 
 far wrong as his own. A wrong wish hi himself can never oblige 
 him to fulfil a wrong wish in another. 
 
 True it is however, that, in proportion as a man's desires for him- 
 self are large and extravagant, he aggravates his condemnation if he 
 applies a stinted and penurious measure to his dealings with other 
 men. " With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you 
 again. " It is, without question, one of the excellencies of the rule 
 before us, that it is left open on the one side, and that there is no 
 limitation placed where Ave are sufficiently sure of placing it our- 
 selves, and where the danger is that we make it too narrow. We 
 should, on the one hand, beware of forming unreasonable desires, 
 and then condemning, as regardless of the golden rule, those who do 
 not see it their duty to gratify them : — and, on the other hand, we 
 should keep in mind on which side we are most in danger of erring, 
 — the side on which temptation lies, — the side to which selfishness 
 draws : — and since, in judging of the desires of others, our decisions 
 are apt to be greatly biassed, — so that, when we are flattering our- 
 selves that we have gone generously far, a disinterested judge might 
 think we had kept even within, and much within the limit ; we ought 
 ever to make due allowance for this. The rule limits the weights in 
 
364 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 our own scale; but imposes no restriction with, regard to the opposite 
 one ; and therefore, aware of the disposition of selfishness to scrimp 
 weights and measures to others, — if we act up to the true spirit of 
 the rule, instead of weighing our dealings towards them with the 
 minute grains and scruples of rigid right and justice, we will be 
 ready, whenever we can afford it, to throw in a pound of kindness. 
 
 Note S. Page 214. 
 On the Disinterested Affections. — Bisho]) Butler. 
 
 For the princi23le of the simple view given in the text of the question 
 relative to the existence of disinterested affections, I acknowledge 
 myself indebted to Butler. In his Sermons on the love of our neigh- 
 bour, he has placed it in a very clear and satisfactory light, — as the 
 following extracts will show : — " The principle we call self-love 
 never seeks any thing external for the sake of the thing, but only as 
 a means of happiness or good : — particular affections rest in the 
 external things themselves. One belongs to man as a reasonable 
 creature reflecting upon his own interest or happiness. The other, 
 though quite distinct from reason, are as much a part of human 
 nature. That all particular appetites and passions are towards ex- 
 ternal things themselves, distinct from the pleasure arising from 
 them, is manifest from hence ; that there could not he this pleasure, 
 were it not for that prior suitableness between the object and the passion : 
 there could be no enjoyment or delight from one thing more than 
 from another, from eating food more than from swallowing a stone, 
 if there were not an affection or appetite for one thing more than for 
 another. Every particular affection, even the love of our neighbour, 
 is as really our oxen affection as self-love; and the pleasure arising 
 from its gratification is as much my own pleasure, as the pleasure self- 
 love would have from knowing I myself should be happy some time 
 hence would be my own pleasure. And if, because every particular 
 affection is a man's own, and the pleasure arising from its gratifica- 
 tion is his own pleasure, or pleasure to himself, such particular affec- 
 tion must be called self-love ; according to this way of speaking, no 
 creature can possibly act but merely from self-love ; and every action 
 and every affection whatever is to be resolved up into this principle. 
 But then this is not the language of mankind : or, if it were, we 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 365 
 
 should want words to express the difference between the principle of 
 an action proceeding from cool consideration that it will be to my 
 own advantage, and an action, suppose of revenge or of friendship, 
 by which a man runs upon certain ruin, to do evil or to do good to 
 another. It is manifest the principles of these actions are totally 
 different, and so want different words to be distinguished by : all 
 that they agree in is, that they both proceed from, and are done to 
 gratify, an inclination in a man's self. But the principle or inclina- 
 tion in one case is self-love ; in the other, hatred or love of another. 
 There is, then, a distinction between the cool principle of self-love, 
 or general desire of our own happiness, as one principle of action, 
 and the particular affections towards particular external objects, as 
 another part of our nature, and another principle of action." — "Is 
 there any less inconsistence between the love of inanimate things, or 
 of creatures merely sensitive, and self-love ; than between self-love 
 and the love of our neighbour ? Is desire of and delight in the hap- 
 piness of another, any more a diminution of self-love, than desire of 
 and delight in the esteem of another ? They do both equally desire 
 and delight in somewhat external to themselves : — either both or 
 neither are so. The object of self-love is expressed in the term self: 
 and every appetite of sense, and every particular affection of the 
 heart, are equally interested or disinterested, because the objects of 
 them all are equally self, or somewhat else." — "The short of the 
 matter is no more than this : — Happiness consists in the gratification 
 of certain affections, appetites, passions, with objects which are by 
 nature adapted to them. Self-love may indeed set us on to gratify 
 these : but happiness or enjoyment has no immediate connexion with 
 self-love, but arises from such gratifications alone. Love of our 
 neighbour is one of these affections. This, considered as a virtuous 
 principle, is gratified by a consciousness of endeavouring to promote 
 the good of others : but, considered as a natural affection, its gratifi- 
 cation consists in the actual accomplishment of this endeavour. Now, 
 indulgence or gratification of this affection, whether in that con- 
 sciousness or in this accomplishment, has the same respect to interest 
 as the gratification of any other affection : — they equally proceed 
 from, or do not proceed from, self-love ; they equally include, or 
 equally exclude, this principle. Thus it appears, that benevolence, 
 or the pursuit of public good, hath at least as great respect to self- 
 love and the pursuit of private good, as any other particular passions 
 and their respective pursuits." — "As it is ridiculous to assert, that 
 self-love and the love of our neighbotvr are the same ; so neither is it 
 asserted, that following these different affections hath the same 
 
36G NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 tendency and respect to our own interest. The comparison is not 
 bet-ween self-love and the love of our neighbour ; between pursuit of 
 our own interest and the interest of others : but between the several 
 particular affections in human nature towards external objects, as 
 one part of the comparison, — and the one particular affection to the 
 good of our neighbour, as the other part of it : — and it has been 
 shown, that all these have the same respect to self-love and private 
 interest." 
 
 Note T. Page 246. 
 
 On Edicards's Theory of Virtue. — Eclectic Review. — Robert Hall. — Sir 
 
 James Mackintosh. — Death of the latter — -from Dr. Campbell" s Martyr 
 
 of ' Erromanga. 
 
 • 
 
 The reader will find some observations equally distinguished for 
 correct discrimination and scriptural devotion, both on the theory of 
 Edwards, and the principles of virtue in general, in the " Eclectic 
 Review" for February," 1823, Vol. XIX. p. 97, &c, Art. Joyce on 
 Love to God. — I perfectly concur with the writer of that article in 
 thinking, that "this most profound thinker and able polemic, skilled 
 as he was in the unravelling of sophistry and the demolition of error, 
 failed in the very outset of his attempt to construct a moral theory." 
 
 It would be injustice to a mind of the highest order, — whose puri- 
 fied and elevated faculties are now finding full scope for all their 
 heavenly expansion in the services of the upper sanctuary, — not to 
 refer to the sentiments of the late Rev. Robert Hall, on the princi- 
 ples of Edwards's theory. They are to be found, in a forcible and 
 condensed form, in a Note to the earliest, and perhaps the most 
 splendid and powerful of his published Sermons — his Modern Infi- 
 delity Considered.— Works, Vol. I. pp. 58, 59. 
 
 I have quoted Sir James Mackintosh on one or two points in the 
 principles and the phraseology of Edwards. I cannot think, how- 
 ever, that in all respects he has done full justice either to the theory 
 or to its illustrious author. For example, the theory is brought, in 
 the following terms, to a very summary trial : — "The justness of the 
 compound proportion on which human virtue is made to depend, is 
 capable of being tried by an easy test. If we suppose the greatest of 
 evil spirits to have a hundred times the bad passions of Marcus 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 367 
 
 Aurelius, and at the same time a hundred times his faculties, or, in 
 Edwards's language, a hundred times his quantity of being, it fol- 
 lows from this moral theory, that we ought to esteem and love the 
 devil exactly in the same degree as we esteem and love Marcus 
 Aurelius." — But in thus balancing the passions against the faculties, 
 — making the one a counterpoise to the other, — neutralizing the 
 influence of the former by the counter-influence of the latter, and 
 making the latter so to compensate for the former, as to bring our 
 moral esteem and love to an equilibrium between two such opposite 
 characters, — is there not an overlooking of one of the essential prin- 
 ciples of the theory ? According to the theory, the love of being does 
 not include complacence or esteem. That sentiment arises, not from 
 the primary, but the secondary ground of virtuous affection, namely, 
 the discernment in another of the same benevolence or love of being 
 which we ourselves are supposed to experience. To say, therefore, 
 that " according to this moral theory, we ought to esteem and love 
 the devil exactly in the same degree as we esteem and love Marcus 
 Aurelius," because, although the devil has a hundred times his bad 
 'passions, he has, at the same time, as a counterpoise to this, a hun- 
 dred times his faculties or quantity cf being, is evidently to make 
 the quantity of being the ground, not only of the affection of good- 
 will, but of the affection of moral esteem or complacency. The devil, 
 being destitute of benevolence, or love to being, is desitute of that 
 which, in the theory, is the sole ground of this latter sentiment : — 
 and, if Marcus Aurelius be supposed to have the benevolence, he has 
 that which alone can inspire the esteem, and which cannot be 
 compensated by ten thousand times the amount of being ; for if 
 infinite being could be supposed destitute of this benevolence, there 
 would, according to the theory, be infinite ground for the opposite 
 sentiment to complacence. And even as to the affection of benevo- 
 lence or good- will, the theory provides for a larger exercise of it on 
 the ground of character, or the possession of the same benevolence. 
 The measure of the good- will is to be a compound of the quantity of 
 being, and the moral character: — "When any one under the 
 influence of general benevolence, sees another being possessed of the 
 like general benevolence, this attaches his heart to him, and draws 
 forth greater love to him, than merely his having existence ; because, 
 so far as the being beloved has love to being in general, so far his 
 own being is, as it were, enlarged ; extends to, and in some sort 
 comprehends, being in general : — and therefore, he that is governed 
 by love to being in general, must of necessity have complacence in 
 him, and the greater degree of benevolence to him, as it were out of 
 
368 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 gratitude to him for his love to general existence, that his own heart 
 is extended and united to, and so looks on its interest as its own. It 
 is because his heart is thus united to being in general, that he looks 
 on a benevolent propensity to being in general, wherever he sees it, 
 as the beauty of the being in whom it is, — an excellency that renders 
 him worthy of esteem, complacence, and the greater ffood-ivill." 
 
 I cannot close this note without observing, that the decided at- 
 tachment of Edwards to the fundamental articles of the gospel, as he 
 understood them, and as they are understood by the great body of 
 evangelical professors, has exposed him to the charge of narrow- 
 mindedness from the eminent historian of Ethical Science, — which he 
 would himself have meekly borne as a part of his cross, — and which 
 all who think with him may expect, not only from the philosophers 
 of this world, but from those also who hold the profession of Chris- 
 tianity with an undefined liberalism, which hardly leaves it an article 
 of peculiarity. After quoting from Edwards the sentiment that 
 " true religion consists in a great measure in holy affections," and 
 that " a love of divine things for the beauty and sweetness of their 
 moral excellency, is the spring of all holy affections," — Sir James 
 proceeds : " Had he suffered this noble principle to take the right 
 road to all its fair consequences, he would have entirely concurred 
 with Plato, with Shaftesbury, and with Malebranche, in devotion to 
 the ' first good, first perfect, and first fair.' But he thought it 
 necessary afterwards to limit his doctrine to his own persuasion, by 
 denying that moral excellence could be discovered in divine things 
 by those Christians who did not take the same view with him of 
 their religion. All others, and some who hold his doctrines with a 
 more enlarged spirit, may adopt his principle without any limitation." 
 — Prelim. Diss. p. 340. All this amounts to no more, than that 
 Edwards had more regard to revelation than to philosophy. The 
 " height and front of his offending had this extent — no more." The 
 " holy affections " in which he placed true religion, were affections 
 which he considered as regarding God according to the view of his 
 character exhibited in " the word of the truth of the gospel." He 
 would not, to please philosophy, divest the principles of religion of 
 then- evangelical peculiarities, or extend his charity beyond the 
 limits of the Bible. To hear it lamented that the principle adopted 
 by Edwards as to the " love of divine things " should not have been 
 so general and comprehensive as to have fitted him for religious 
 association with " Plato, and Shaftesbury, and Malebranche," may 
 well provoke a smile ; and one can only regret, that the views of 
 Christianity entertained by the able and justly-bewailed philosopher 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 369 
 
 and statesman who thus laments, had not been themselves more 
 definite, and more in accordance with the illiberal sentiments which 
 he deplores. Our veneration for the dead must never tempt us to 
 such a tolerance of their published sentiments as might be injurious 
 to the living. And I hardly know any one thing more pernicious in 
 its tendency and actual operation, than that generalizing of the term 
 Christianity to a comprehensiveness which excludes almost nothing 
 that a man may take a fancy to call by the name, — associated with 
 the kindred sentiment of the harmlessness of all opinions. To this 
 latter sentiment, — a sentiment as perilous as it is palatable, and as 
 unscriptural and unphilosophical too as it is both, — we are sorry to 
 find Sir James Mackintosh distinctly and repeatedly giving his most 
 unqualified sanction. "The Scotists," says he, "steadily affirmed 
 the blamelessness of erroneous opinion ; a principle which is the only 
 effectual security for conscientious inquiry, mutual kindness, and for 
 public quiet." Now, that men have no right to interfere with each 
 other's opinions, — that every attempt to compel the adoption of them 
 by the force of persecution, is as impious and unjust as it is insane 
 and fruitless : and that all human punishment for them is a pre- 
 sumptuous usurpation of the province of Deity, I freely admit, and 
 would pertinaciously maintain. So far as the folly and the wicked- 
 ness of persecution are concerned, I subscribe, with my whole soul 
 to the following powerful statement : — " No one but the religious 
 persecutor, a mischievous and overgrown child, wreaks his vengeance 
 on involuntary, inevitable, compulsory acts or states of the under- 
 standing, which are no more affected by blame than the stone which 
 the foolish child beats for hurting him. Reasonable men apply to 
 every thing which they wish to move, the agent which is capable of 
 moving it; force to outward substances, arguments to the under- 
 standing, and blame, together with all other motives, whether moral 
 or personal, to the will alone. It is as absurd to entertain an ab- 
 horrence of intellectual inferiority or error, however extensive or 
 mischievous, as it would be to cherish a warm indignation against 
 earthquakes or hurricanes. It is singular that a philosopher who 
 needed the most liberal toleration (he is speaking of Mr. Hume) 
 " should, by representing states of the understanding as moral or 
 immoral, have offered the most philosophical apology for perse- 
 cution." — Prelim. Diss. p. 357. But, disowning as I do every 
 approach to persecution, as incapable of any apology, whether on the 
 principles of philosophy, of religion, or of common sense ; I must, at 
 the same time, hold it to be equally inconsistent with philosophy, 
 with religion, and with common sense, to deny that the disposition, 
 I B B 
 
370 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 or moral state of the heart, has an influence on the exercise of the 
 intellect, and the decisions of the judgment ; this being a matter of 
 fact which the experience of every day notoriously exemplifies : and 
 surely, in as far as this is the case, sentiments may be blameworthy, 
 and " states of the understanding moral or immoral." To entertain 
 "no abhorrence of error, however extensive or mischievous," is 
 either to proceed on the assumption that error never arises from 
 moral causes, or to be insensible to the evil of those moral causes 
 from which it does arise. Every declaration of Scripture, that " he 
 who believeth not shall be condemned," proceeds on the opposite 
 hypothesis to that of the blamelessness of error, namely, that the 
 rejection of the gospel is the result of moral causes ; that "light is 
 come into the world, and that men love darkness rather than light, 
 because their deeds are evil." 
 
 We arc prone to extremes. There is a narrow-minded imbecility, 
 which magnifies the minutest points of doctrine to undue dimensions, 
 elevates them into terms of communion, and separates itself, with a 
 self-complacent jealousy, from the contact and contamination of the 
 most circumstantial error, even notwithstanding a very complete 
 agreement in the essential articles of revealed truth : — and there is, 
 on the other hand, a liberalism in religion, which merges all the 
 peculiarities of Christian truth and Christian communion — breaking 
 down and sweeping away the sacred inclosures of Cod's vineyard, — 
 and, with a sentimental latitude of charity, which is exceedingly 
 captivating, because it passes for philosophical strength of mind and 
 largeness of heart, sets no limit to its all- comprehensive fellowship 
 but that of a universally assumed sincerity. Such is the expansive 
 liberality which, with an unsuppressed feeling of approbation and 
 delight, the censor of the narrow-mindedness of Jonathan Edwards 
 ascribes to Bishop Berkeley, when he says of him — "His mind, 
 enlarging as it rose, at length receives every theist, however imper- 
 fect his belief, to a communion in its philosophic piety." — Introd. 
 Diss. p. 351. There is assuredly a scriptural medium between these 
 two extremes : and the Christian, who knows the terms in which 
 inspiration speaks of " the wisdom of this world," while he enlarges 
 his heart to " all who love our Lord Jesus Christ hi sincerity," will, 
 at the same time, be not a little jealous of this un discriminating 
 " philosophic piety." 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 371 
 
 Addition to the preceding Note. — Fourth Edition, 
 
 I should do violence to every feeling of my heart, were I to allow 
 the present edition to go to press, without adverting to the interest- 
 ing particulars now on record respecting the closing scene of the life 
 of the eminent statesman and philosopher to whose sentiments the 
 preceding Note has more immediate reference. I give them, with a 
 small portion of the reflections connected with them, by the powerful 
 mind and pen of the Author of " The Martyr of Erromanga." — How 
 much soever we might wish for a greater degree of fulness and 
 explicitness on the part of the dying philosopher ; yet, what is 
 recorded cannot fail to afford to every Christian mind the sincerest 
 delight, — while, at the same time, it is fitted to rouse the unbeliever 
 from his speculative reveries, and to force upon him the conviction 
 of what the soul needs in that last and most solemn testing-time of 
 
 human principles. "The departure of Sir James Mackintosh," 
 
 writes Dr. Campbell, addressing himself to Lord Brougham, " was 
 attended with circumstances of the most touching character. That 
 solemn event stands by itself. Taking it in all points, there is 
 nothing in the annals of literature resembling it. Our illustrious 
 countryman was never so truly great, as during the few weeks of his 
 last illness. Such sweetness ! such humility ! such docility ! — ' He 
 would speak of God with more reverence and awe than I have 
 almost ever met with,' said his judicious and Christian daughter. 
 ' His voice fell, — his whole person seemed to bow down, as if 
 conscious of a superior presence, — while in a subdued, solemn, 
 deeply thoughtful manner, he slowly expressed himself. He al- 
 lowed me to read to him passages out of different authors, listening 
 so meekly and so attentively to what I read, as at times almost to 
 overpower me. He did not, in many things, agree with them ; and 
 he gave his reasons so calmly and so clearly, that I often could not 
 answer him, though I did not always feel convinced by, I was going 
 to say, his arguments ; but this would be too strong a term for the 
 gentle, humble, inquiring character of these conversations, in which 
 he seemed thinking aloud, and expressing the difficulties of an 
 honest and deeply-serious mind. I one day read to him the twenty- 
 ninth chapter of Job, which affected him to tears. Our Lord Jesus 
 Christ was very frequently the subject of his thoughts : he seemed 
 often perplexed, and unable to comprehend much of his history. 
 He once said to me, "It is a great mystery to me — I camiot under- 
 stand it." At another time he told me that, during the many sleep- 
 
37*2 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 less nights he passed, the contemplation of the character of Jesus 
 Christ, and thoughts concerning the gospel, with prayer to God, 
 were his chief occupation. He spoke of the delight he had in 
 dwelling upon his noble character. I have heard his voice falter as 
 he repeated, " He went about doing good ;" but he added, " There is 
 much connected with him I cannot understand." I cannot attempt 
 to give his own words ; but his difficulty lay in the account given of 
 the manner in which Jesus becomes the Saviour of men. One 
 morning he told me that he had been "praying to God to deliver 
 him from his sufferings, and to permit him to die." I spoke of the 
 solemnity of death, and the awfulness of meeting God, and that I 
 felt we ought first to seek of God to be prepared by him to meet 
 him. He was silent a little, and thoughtful, and then answered, 
 " I thought we might have such perfect confidence in God, that we 
 might even venture to make known to him all our sufferings and all 
 our wants, and that he would not be offended ; it was in this belief 
 I asked him to put an end to my sufferings ; with submission, 
 however, I desire to ask it." On another occasion I told him a friend 
 had prayed for him: he seemed pleased, and said, "The effectual, 
 fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." On Saturday 
 a great change took place ; he became very silent, and had the 
 appearance of one listening : the intelligence of his countenance did 
 not diminish, it only changed its character ; a look of peace and 
 dignity was mingled with it, such as I had never witnessed in that 
 dear face before. Whenever a word from the Scriptures was 
 repeated to him, he always manifested that he heard it ; and I 
 especially observed that, at every mention of the name of Jesus 
 Christ, if his eyes were closed, he always opened them, and looked at 
 the person who had spoken. I said to him at one time, " Jesus 
 , Christ loves you :" he answered slowly, and pausing between each 
 word, " Jesus Christ — love — the same thing." He uttered these last 
 words with a most sweet smile. After a long silence, he said, " I 
 believe — ." We said, in a voice of inquiry, "In God?" He 
 answered, "In Jesus." He spoke but once more after this. Upon 
 our inquiring how he felt, he said he was " happy.'"* 
 
 • ' Such, my Lord, is the narrative of the musings and utterances of 
 this great philosopher. You observe how entirely his philosophy 
 failed him in the hour of death, and how absolutely he depended 
 upon Jesus Christ. He just learned the first principles of true 
 religion, and, like a little child, gently died in the faith of the Son of 
 
 * Life, vol. ii. pp. 489, 490. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. ^73 
 
 God ! Here we behold a man of mighty intellect, burdened with 
 erudition of the highest order, most profoundly conversant with the 
 sciences of mind and of morals ; and yet, at the close of a long life, 
 devoted to the pursuits of knowledge, he remained wholly ignorant 
 of those things which belonged to his peace ! That was last 
 attended to which ought to have been first ! He knew every thing 
 but the one thing needful ! This eminent man, with all his 
 attainments in philology, in ethics, in metaphysics, in jurisprudence, 
 in history, and in the knowledge of mankind, understood much less 
 of that which constitutes the highest branch of knowledge, than 
 hundreds of thousands of English Sunday scholars ! 
 
 " Surely, my Lord, Sir James Mackintosh has left an example 
 from which it behoves men of letters to profit. His last solemn 
 utterance, before leaving our sphere, was a public confession 
 of faith in Jesus Christ as the Saviour of the world. Such 
 words, from such lips, in such circumstances, are not to be lightly 
 treated. The speaker, one of the greatest and purest of men, 
 was, even amid bodily decay, as far from' imbecility as he had all his 
 life been superior to hypocrisy ; and yet, in immediate prospect of 
 the judgment- seat of God, he felt the utter insufficiency of a merely 
 moral and useful life to recommend him to the Divine approbation, 
 and to satisfy the demands of the Divine law, and fled for refuge to 
 the hope set before him in the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. 
 What he spoke he felt. The declaration, too, was voluntary. It 
 was also made after preparation of ' long silence.' He made it as he 
 lay between two worlds. Time, with its vanities and visions, behind 
 him, — Eternity, with its truths and realities, before him, — the under- 
 standing exerting its powers of defence to the uttermost, and con- 
 science honestly performing its duty ; — thus situated, with one foot 
 in this world and the other in the world to come, the last words of 
 Sir James Mackintosh to the philosophers and statesmen of Europe 
 and the world were : « I BELIEVE IN JESUS !' " * 
 
 * Martyr of Erromanga, 2nd ed. pp. 20G — 209. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abercroinbie, Dr., on con- 
 science, 320 ; on the moral 
 feelings, 322, 324. 
 
 Alienation of the heart from God, 
 286, 287. 
 
 Analogy of Religion, by Bishop 
 Butler, 83 ; an admirable work, 
 179. 
 
 Apostacy, human, overcome by 
 the Divine wisdom and love, 81. 
 
 Aristotelian philosophy, 40. 
 
 Aristotle's notion of innate ideas, 
 70. 
 
 Atonement of Christ, 249. 
 
 Bacon, Lord, on the schoolmen, 
 294. 
 
 Being, the Divine, infinitely ex- 
 cellent, 236. 
 
 Benevolence, spurious, 213 ; to 
 beings, 236, 242; moral good- 
 ness in the Creator, 246. 
 
 Bible, the, its claims supreme, 
 18 ; dishonour done to it, 19, 
 20 ; its teaching in morals, 
 186. 
 
 Bossuet, Bishop, his controversy 
 with Fenelon, 214. 
 
 Bridgewater Treatise, Dr. Chal- 
 mers', 291 ; Mr. Whe well's, 
 271, 272. 
 
 British Critic, on conscience, 327, 
 330. 
 
 British Magazine, on the identity 
 of morality and religion, 358, 
 360. 
 
 Brown's, Dr., theory of morals, 
 
 39, 42 ; strictures on, 63, 64 ; 
 on the human constitution, 68, 
 71 ; definition of conscience, 
 141 ; on the impulses of nature, 
 189, 190. 
 
 Butler, Bishop, his moral system, 
 82 ; its defects, 84 ; the system 
 of Zeno, 85 ; on following na- 
 ture, 87, 88; his defective -views 
 of man's fallen condition, 90 ; 
 the error of his moral system, 
 91, 92 ; his comparison of the 
 mental constitution to a watch, 
 314, 315 ; on disinterested 
 affection, 364. 
 
 Campbell, Dr., on the death of 
 Sir J. Mackintosh, 371—373. 
 
 Chalmers, Dr., commends Bishop 
 Butler's ethical principles, 84 ; 
 on moral philosophy, as gene- 
 rally taught, 291 ; on love to 
 our neighbour, 361, 363. 
 
 Christian ethics, their peculi- 
 arities, 260. 
 
 Christian experience, 256. 
 
 Christianity, the true principles 
 of, 232, 233. 
 
 Clarke, Dr., on moral truth and 
 mathematical certainty, 302, 
 304 ; on the perfections of 
 God, 346, 348. 
 
 Complacency in the Divine cha- 
 racter, 196. 
 
 Conscience, the ruling power of 
 man, 88 ; its failure in man- 
 kind, 92, 93 ; not necessarily 
 
376 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 good, 112; influenced by a 
 depraved disposition, 128 ; its 
 nature, 129 ; the exercise of it, 
 130 ; upon ourselves, 132, 135 ; 
 power of it, 137 ; in virtuous 
 beings, 138 ; influenced by 
 false judgments, 142 ; by de- 
 pravity, to approve evil, 144 ; 
 not to be trusted as the infal- 
 lible standard of right and 
 wrong, 283 ; in the Gentiles, 
 338, 339. 
 
 Consciousness of right in vir- 
 tuous beings, 139, 140. 
 
 Creation, its vast antiquity, 150. 
 
 Creator, the, requires the love of 
 creatures, 192. 
 
 Cudworth, Dr., on the harmony 
 among all parts of the mundane 
 system, 182 ; a Platonist, 296 ; 
 his speculations, 298 — 300. 
 
 Deity, correct views of the, 
 225. 
 
 Delight in the Divine happiness, 
 198. 
 
 Deluge, theories of the, 12. 
 
 Depraved beings cannot love 
 God, 222, 224. 
 
 Depravity, the cause of errors, 
 28, 29 ; its bias on the mind, 30. 
 
 Disinterestedness of love to God, 
 214. 
 
 Dwight, Dr., on virtue, 76; as 
 formed on utility, 163, 164 ; on 
 the nature of things, 167, 169 ; 
 virtue founded on the Divine 
 will, 345. 
 
 Eclectic Review, on conscience, 
 325, 326. 
 
 Edinburgh Review, its strictures 
 on the " Christian Ethics," 
 answered, 275, 277. 
 
 Edwards, President, on "VVol- 
 laston, 54 ; on love to God, 
 215, 226, 227 ; his theory 
 of virtue, 236, 237 ; by Sir J. 
 Mackintosh, 366, 370. 
 
 Encyclopaedia Britannica, on 
 moral philosophy, 34, 37 ; 331, 
 333. 
 
 Epicurus, character of his system, 
 47. 
 
 Evidences of religion fail to influ- 
 ence wicked men, 286, 288. 
 
 Existence, its possibility and 
 necessity, 350, 356. 
 
 Faith, its operation, 248. 
 
 Eall of man manifest, 121, 122. 
 
 Fenelon, Archbishop, his mysti- 
 cism, 214. 
 
 Fitness of things, moral theory of 
 the, 51 ; eternal fitness, 79 ; 
 the rule of God's will, 149 ; 
 God's nature, the standard of 
 the, 154. 
 
 Following nature, 86, 87. 
 
 Fuller, Mr., on the sentiments of 
 Sandeman, 230, 231. 
 
 Gentiles, how far they obey the 
 law of God, 96, 97, 103 ; their 
 rule of duty, and of judgment, 
 98 ; their alienation from God, 
 99. 
 
 Glory of God, the, to be sought 
 above all things, 160, 161. 
 
 God, as viewed by men, 229 ; his 
 eternal existence, 151 ; the ori- 
 ginator of all things, 152 ; his 
 necessary existence, 153 ; what 
 is due to him, 186, 187 ; the 
 foundation of morals, 258. 
 
 God's infinite excellency, his 
 purity and mercy, 181 ; his 
 essential loveliness, 215 ; moral 
 government, 109, 110; revela- 
 tion of himself, 146 ; virtue, 
 as defined by Edwards, 240, 
 241. 
 
 Godhead, moral union with the, 
 199. 
 
 Godliness, the perfection of hu- 
 man nature, 185. 
 
 Goodness of God, its influence, 
 252. 
 
 Gospel, its representation of God, 
 228 ; its influence on Christian 
 obligation, 249. 
 
 Gratitude for the Divine good- 
 ness, 197 ; holy and generous, 
 219 ; its influence, 243, 245. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 377 
 
 Hall, R., on the good of the 
 
 whole, 162. 
 Harmony between God's provi- 
 dence and the Scripture doctrine 
 of the fall, 178; between nature 
 and revelation, 180 ; between 
 the works and the word of 
 God, 182 ; between nature and 
 redemption, 183. 
 Hartley, Mr., on the law of asso- 
 ciation, 356. 
 Heathenism, a correct picture of, 
 
 99. 
 Hobbism, 45. 
 Hoffman, Professor, theories of, 
 
 21, 22. 
 Horsley, Bishop, on the founda- 
 tion of moral obligation, 147, 
 148. 
 Human degeneracy, 69. 
 Human nature not the standard 
 of moral principles, 31 ; not 
 what it ought to be, 32 ; fear- 
 fully deranged, 105. 
 Human race, origin of the, 10. 
 Human wisdom insufficient, 2. 
 Hume's, Mr., definition of virtue, 
 72; theory of utility, 311, 313. 
 Hutcheson's, Dr., theory of a 
 moral sense, 59, 60 ; its errors, 
 61, 62. 
 Influence of the gospel, 254. 
 Judgment, the, exercised on con- 
 science, 131 ; on moral actions, 
 135, 136. 
 Law, the Divine, the rule of faith 
 
 and duty, 27. 
 Law, the moral, how revealed, 
 
 114, 126, 127. 
 Love from God excites to love 
 
 God, 257. 
 Love peculiar to the family of 
 
 God, 262, 263. 
 Love to God the dominant princi- 
 ple of moral rectitude, 204 ; 
 Must it be disinterested? 211 ; 
 requires the hatred of evil, 
 218 ; in holy creatures, 221. 
 Lowman, Mr., on the unity and 
 perfections of God, 348. 
 
 Mackintosh, Sir J., on virtue, 41 ; 
 on Dr. Smith's theory, 56 ; on 
 Bishop Butler's, 84 ; on con- 
 science, 134; on the schoolmen, 
 296 ; on Dr. Cudworth's system, 
 298 ; his theory of conscience, 
 316, 318 ; on the contradictions 
 of human nature, 345 ; his 
 death, 371—373. 
 Manichean theory untenable, 106, 
 
 107. 
 Man incapable of settling the 
 principles of moral rectitude, 
 80 ; his fallen condition, 104. 
 Man's first duty to search out 
 
 truth, 13. 
 Mediation with God for rebel 
 
 sinners, 210. 
 Mediator with God, 249, 250. 
 Mercies of God, 253, 256. 
 Millennial glory in moral good- 
 ness, 268. 
 Moral code of the Bible requires 
 
 religion, 184. 
 Moral distinctions, 66. 
 Moral evil, the existence of, a 
 
 difficulty, 179. 
 Moral excellency, 216. 
 Moral government of God, 109 ; 
 perfectly right, 117 ; the doc- 
 trine of Scripture, 118. 
 Moral inability, 223. 
 Morality and religion identical, 
 
 175, 184; inseparable, 195. 
 Morality, its grand principles, 
 234, 235 ; of the Old and New 
 Testament identical, 264. 
 Moral law, one for all, 126, 127. 
 Moral obligation, its rule or law, 
 114; the will of the Supreme 
 Governor, 116; its original 
 principles, 145 ; its foundation, 
 147 ; primary principles of rec- 
 titude subsisting in the Divine 
 mind, 156 ; in the eternal and 
 immutable rectitude of the 
 Divine nature, 173. 
 Moral philosophy and theology 
 inseparable, 7 ; its specific 
 nature, 34, 35. 
 
378 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Moral probation, 107, 108. 
 
 Moral rectitude the rule of the 
 Creator, 157; witnessed by the 
 creatures, 158 ; essential and 
 necessary in God, 176. 
 
 Moral science in the Bible re- 
 quires love to God, 192. 
 
 Moral sense, 64, 65. 
 
 Moral systems, radical errors of, 
 25, 26, 48. 
 
 Moral transformations of the 
 gospel, 266, 267. 
 
 Mystics, the ancient, 214. 
 
 Natural state of man, 100, 101, 
 104. 
 
 Natiu-al theology, its uses and 
 defects, 292. 
 
 Nature commonly put for God, 
 188, 189. 
 
 Nature, following it, what in- 
 tended, 87, 88. 
 
 Nature of things, 101. 
 
 Nature, religion of, what is it ? 
 282. 
 
 Nature, state of, 102 ; its teach- 
 ing, 188, 189, 
 
 Nature, the Divine, the origin and 
 standard of all fitnesses, 154. 
 
 Oracles of God supreme in deci- 
 sion, 16, 17. 
 
 Paley, Dr., on the foundation of 
 virtue, 169 ; judges expedi- 
 ency the foundation of virtue, 
 170, 171 ; the selfishness of his 
 principle, 172. 
 
 Paul's description of the natural 
 law of God, 94 ; and of man's 
 alienation from God, 95 ; esti- 
 mation of his own character as 
 a persecutor, 319. 
 
 Payne, Dr., on conscience, 132, 
 1 34 ; on the essential prin- 
 ciples of being, 244 ; on mental 
 and moral science, 334 ; on 
 conscience, 336, 337 ; on the 
 condition of man as created, 
 341, 343. 
 
 Philanthropy, disinterested, 212. 
 
 Philosopher, moral, should be a 
 Bible theologian, 8, 9. 
 
 Philosophy and theology, 1, 
 21, 23. 
 
 Philosophy, schemes of, 246 ; its 
 influence in corrupting theo- 
 logy, 293. 
 
 Physical science the handmaid to 
 religion, 13. 
 
 Providence, contradictory phe- 
 nomena of, 109. 
 
 Reason, its power in judging the 
 truth of God, 285 ; appealed to 
 by the gospel, 288; agrees with 
 revelation, 290. 
 
 Redemption, the scheme of, affects 
 the moral system of our world, 
 259. 
 
 Religion and morality identical, 
 175, 187. 
 
 Religion essential to virtue, 191, 
 201, 202. 
 
 Religion of nature, 280, 281. 
 
 Remedial means in the gospel, 
 251. 
 
 Revelation, Divine, discoveries of, 
 119, 122, 123; mercy its de- 
 sign, 125 ; regards chiefly our 
 world, 208 ; and sinners, 209. 
 
 Sandeman's doctrine, 230, 231. 
 
 Schoolmen, their speculations, 
 294, 295. 
 
 Scientific men not all religious, 6 ; 
 knowledge may be possessed 
 without piety, 273; perverted 
 by human depravity, 274. 
 
 Scripture, harmony of its testi- 
 mony with the state of man, 
 111 ; its doctrine of moral 
 government, 118; on the prin- 
 ciple of virtue, 190. 
 
 Self-interest not the ground of 
 moral obligation, 173. 
 
 Selfishness our besetting sin, 200. 
 
 Self-love essential to our nature, 
 217. 
 
 Sinfulness of human nature, 101. 
 
 Sin the transgression of law, 118, 
 119 ; its consequences in man, 
 121, 122, 128; opposition to 
 the will of God, 165. 
 
 Smith, Adam, his theory of moral 
 
INDEX. 
 
 379 
 
 sentiments, 45 ; examination 
 of it, 57, 58. 
 
 Stewart, Dugald, on moral philo- 
 sophy, 36, 38. 
 
 Stoical system of morals, 43. 
 
 Study of the human mind re- 
 quires Divine revelation to be 
 consulted, 278. 
 
 Theology corrupted by philo- 
 sophy, 293. 
 
 Truth found supremely in the 
 Bible, 15, 16. 
 
 Ungodliness, its wickedness, 194. 
 
 Unity, the Divine, evident from 
 providence and redemption, 
 179. 
 
 Utilitarian system, 78. 
 
 Utility does not constitute virtue, 
 74 ; to be traced up to God's 
 rectitude, 159 ; not the rule of 
 moral action, 164 ; the natural 
 consequence of rectitude, 166. 
 
 Virtue belongs exclusively to 
 
 moral agents, 73, 75 ; Is it 
 
 founded in utility? 167, 172; 
 
 or in expediency? 170, 171; 
 
 Edwards's theory of it, 236,237. 
 Voluntary usefulness the only 
 
 virtue, 76. 
 Whately, Archbishop, on the 
 
 schoolmen, 295. 
 WhewelTs, Mr., views on the 
 
 piety of scientific men, 271. 
 Wickedness of the human heart, 
 
 193. 
 William of Ockham, on the duty 
 
 of man, 345. 
 Wollaston's moral system, 54. 
 World, God's transactions with 
 
 the, 206, 207. 
 Worlds, other, their inhabitants, 
 
 205. 
 Zeno, his moral system, 85 ; 
 
 adopted by Bishop Butler, 89. 
 
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