Vi.C Dam at

7

THE SEISE OE HONOR:

A DISCOURSE

DELIVERED IN THE

CENTRAL PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH,
Charleston, S. C, January 25, 1857.
BY EEV, W. C. DANA.

InMisfcto &s gtoPrt.

CHARLESTON:
STEAM POWER PRESS OF WALKER, EVANS & CO.,
3 BROAD STREET.
1857.

DISCOURSE.

2 kings, xxiii: 10.
"And he defiled Topheth, which is in the valley of the children of Hinnom, that no
man might make his son or his daughter to pass through the iire to Molech."
South of Jerusalem, directly under the southern
brow of Mount Zion, there lies a deep valley, called
from the earliest times the " Valley of the son of Hin
nom." It took its name, doubtless, from one of its
original proprietors. It is sometimes called the "Val
ley of the children of Hinnom," and sometimes simply
" Hinnom," or the " Valley of Hinnom."
It was originally a beautiful valley, well-watered,
fertile, and shaded with groves of trees. Its name
was then suggestive only of pleasant associations.
But, like other places which God made beautiful, and
which man's wickedness has desecrated, this valley, in
the progress of human history, came to be associated
with whatever was most loathsome, abhorred and vile ;
till at length its very name, " Valley of Hinnom," (in
Greek, " Gehenna") stood as the type and emblem of
future misery and woe. When our Saviour spoke of
those who should be " in danger of hell-fire," the ex
pression he used was, literally rendered, " the Gehenna

of fire." The simple name, " Valley of Hinnom,"
" Gehenna," had come to be the very word to desig
nate the place of future misery — so associated was it
with scenes of horror and of woe.
What was it that had so transformed this once
beautiful valley, as to make what originally seemed
almost a paradise, now only a fit type and representa
tive of hell 1
Its history was this : In early times it had been
selected as a place of idolatrous worship. The special
object of this worship was Moloch, the god of the
Ammonites, a people descended from Lot, who were
among the earlier possessors of part of the land of
Canaan. The name of this idol appears in the Old
Testament as Molech, taken directly from the Hebrew;
in the New Testament, transferred from the Greek, it
is Moloch, the name most familiar to English ears.
The name in Hebrew means king. Moloch was per
haps the king of the Ammonites, before he became
their god. He was probably, in his time, a great
conqueror, that is, a great murderer ; he was, therefore,
a great object of admiration to his barbarous subjects,
and when he died, they worshipped him as a god.
And their mode of worshipping him was perfectly in
keeping with his character and with theirs. They set
up in the valley of Hinnom a huge image of brass, of
which the trunk and arms were hollow. At the cele
bration of his rites, fire was applied within till the
image was thoroughly heated ; then they brought

their children, and offered them in horrid sacrifice to
the idol, by laying them on the arms, or thrusting
them into the embrace of the heated image. To
drown their cries, drums were beaten ; and hence,
probably, the place came to be called Tophet, from the
Hebrew word toph, which means a drum.
From the expression, frequent in the Old Testament,
" to pass through the fire to Moloch," it would seem
that the idol could only be approached through fire ;
perhaps by a hazardous process of passing over burn
ing coals, not unlike what an American missionary to
China testifies that he himself once saw at the worship
of an idol in that country. A comparison of the dif
ferent passages in the Old Testament in which the
worship of Moloch is alluded to, favors the supposition
that the offering of children to the idol involved not
the absolute certainty of their death. But that this
result did follow very frequently, if not generally,
seems clear from various allusions to it in the Scrip
tures. It is charged against the children of Israel in
the 106th Psalm, that "they sacrificed their sons and
their daughters unto devils (demons), and shed innocent
blood, even the blood of their sons and of their daugh
ters, whom they sacrificed unto the idols of Canaan."
Isaiah says (chap. Ivii. 5), " Inflaming yourselves with
idols under every green tree, slaying the children in
the vallies under the clefts of the rocks." The pro
phet Ezekiel also repeatedly charges his countrymen
with causing their children to " pass through the fire,"

and with " sacrificing , them to be devoured." These
passages sufficiently prove the murderous character of
this homage to Moloch.
It is not difficult to , conceive that, in those ancient
days of barbarism and blood, a brutal Ammonite,
ignorant of the true God, and of man's true glory as
consisting in likeness to God, might find some charm,
some affinity with his natural tastes, in this barbarous
worship of a deified murderer. He but worshipped in
Moloch the qualities which he honored in himself.
The sacrifice of human life was moreover an appro
priate homage to one who had been a great destroyer
of human life ; and it may have seemed a badge of
dignity, a brave and chivalrous thing, in honor of Mo
loch, to run the risk of being burned. But what
fascination these cruel rites of idolatrous worship could
have for an Israelite, acquainted with the true God,
familiar with laws distinguished by the value which
they set on human life, subjected to so much of moral
and religious culture as was involved in the institu
tions of Moses — what there was to be said in favor of
his joining in these barbarous rites to a fictitious deity,
is not so easily imagined;
There must have been, however, a wonderful pres
tige about this passing through the fire to Moloch. It
stood its ground boldly among the Hebrew people,
from one generation to another, against the express
interdiction of Heaven. The law of God said (Levit.
xviii. 21) : " Thou shalt not let any of thy seed pass

through the fire to Molech ; and again (Levit. xx. 2) :
" Whosoever giveth any of his seed unto Molech, shall
surely be put to death."
Yet even in the wilderness, in the midst of a people
the sole depositary of a Divine revelation, and guided
miraculously by a pillar of cloud and a pillar of fire,
there were those who carried with them the tabernacle
or sacred tent of Moloch. " Ye took up the tabernacle
of Moloch," says the prophet, Even Solomon, who,
in the days of his wisdom, had built that most magni
ficent temple to the true God, in the days of his fatuity
was persuaded to build " a high* place for Molech, the
abomination of the children of Hinnom." More than
one of the wicked kings that succeeded him, is spe
cially mentioned as having made his son to pass
through the fire to Moloch. Thus, century after cen
tury, did this grim and grisly 'idol keep his state " fast
by the oracle of God."
When, at length, better times, times of reformation,
came, Moloch was discrowned and undeified; his cruel
rites were abolished ; and, to sweep away all vestige
of them, and, if possible, prevent their recurrence, the
spot which they had so long polluted, was given up to
loathsomeness and abhorrence. The valley of Hin
nom, especially that part of it called Tophet, became
the receptacle of the filth and refuse of the city ; fires
were kept burning day and night, to consume the car
cases that were thrown out there ; the loathsome
corruption and the lurid flames, the ever-gnawing

worm and ever-burning fire, marking a site so long
associated with torture and with death, at length made
the place so abhorred that the name Gehenna — valley
of Hinnom — came to be' the synonym for hell.
It is recorded to the honor of king Josiah that he
inaugurated this new era. He dishonored the idol
and desecrated the place" of his worship. " He defiled
Topheth, which is in the valley of the children of
Hinnom, that no man might make his son or his
daughter to pass through the fire to Moloch."
That these barbarous rites of the ancient Moloch,
outraging, as they did' the laws of Gocl and the ten-
derest affections of humanity, could have subsisted for
so many ages, in the very suburbs of the holy city,
might seem incredible, were there no parallel to it in
modern times. But is there not now, in the very
heart of civilization and refinement, under the shadow
of the choicest institutions of Christianity, a modern
Moloch, worshipped as a god, and, by rites as barbarous
and bloody as any that characterized the ancient idol
atry 1 For what higher homage can man pay to the
true Divinity than is exacted by this false one, namely,
absolute obedience to his decrees, even to the sacrifice
of life ?
This false deity claims supreme dominion over his
votaries ; unhesitating submission is the very badge of
discipleship ; in competition with his laws, all the ties
of nature, all the endearments of affection, all rational
motive, all sense of duty to God and man, must be

cast aside as absolutely worthless. His laws, too, are
all written in blood ; the prescribed sacrifice upon his
altar is human life ; the noblest worship at his shrine,
the culminating glory that invests his worshipper, is
the " satisfaction " of killing or being killed.
This modern Moloch assumes the name of Honor.
This law is termed the code of Honor. The celebration
of the rites of his worship, the offering of sacrifices
upon his altar, are termed " affairs of Honor." Never
could there be a stronger illustration of the immorality
of names — of names that gloss over the moral deprav
ity of the things for which they stand. It is a crime
against society to baptize bloody revenge by the
sacred name of Honor.
What is this Honor, which boldly sets its oracles
above and against the oracles of God 1 The law of
God says, " Thou shalt not kill ;" the law of Honor
(so called) says, " Thou shalt kill." Is this an oracle
of true honor, or is the name falsely assumed 1
There are those, perhaps, who, in view of the per
verted sentiments which obtain in the world as to
what is honorable, would ignore the sense of honor as
a worthy motive to action. The existence of honor
as a principle or motive of action in the human breast,
distinct from morality, they would scarcely be dis
posed to recognise. Yet that there is such a principle
seems to me certain. The sense of honor is not pre
cisely the same as the sense of duty. Both may point
to the same conclusion — may indicate the same course,
2

10
and impel the soul in the same direction; and yet ex
ist as distinct principles in the mind. Instead of less
ening the value, impairing the dignity, limiting the
sphere of honor, as a principle of action, what the
moralist has to do is to guard the sentiment of honor
from perversion. The requirements of honor may be
mistaken ; so may the requirements of duty. Saul of
Tarsus "verily thought" that he "ought" to labor to
extirpate Christianity. His sense of duty was per
verted. It needed rectification by comparison with
the true standard. So the sentiment of honor may
be perverted ; it may need to be adjusted to the true
idea of honor. But this is a very different thing from
ignoring or undervaluing honor as a motive to action.
To test the question whether there be such a principle
in our nature as honor, or the sense of honor, distinct
from other principles that incite to action and form
character, let each one ask himself whether the sense
of duty and the sense of honor are, or are not, distinct
perceptions in his mind. Does the term, duty, suggest
the same idea that is suggested by the term, honor 1
If not, what is the precise difference between them 1
There are several distinct motives or principles of
action, that can be very easily discriminated. Self-
interest, duty, honor, affection, may be specified as
distinct motives to human action. All may harmoni
ously impel the man to one specific course ; neverthe
less, as principles or motives in his bosom, they are
distinct. Some of these it is very easy to distinguish

11
from others. To be actuated by self-interest is one
thing ; to be actuated by the sense of duty, is another
and a very distinct thing. Again, affection, love to
God or man, drawing us to a certain course, is distin
guishable from the sense of duty, even when that im
pels to precisely the same course. Now, is there any
distinction between honar and duly as principles of
action 1
This question must be referred to our consciousness.
We speak of conduct as honorable ; we also speak of it
as right. Do these different terms refer to distinct
perceptions in the mind 1
When we say of a certain course of action that we
feel bound in conscience and in honor to adhere to it, do
these two words stand for, one and the same thing, or
do they correspond to, and indicate, two distinct per
ceptions and impulses 1 And if so, wherein consists
the difference between them 1
These questions do not pertain to a matter of
merely curious speculation. The solution of them
bears directly upon the important inquiry, whether
honor can ever counsel a different course of conduct
from that which is dictated by duty.
What is honor, as a motive or principle of action ?
I would say, it is the sense of the beautiful and the
becoming in human character. It is the perception of
the inherent dignity and glory of certain moral char
acteristics as the ornament and crown of our nature.
The man of honor is he in whom this sense is so acute,

12
this perception so refined- and exquisite, that it stands
to him in the place of law, as a guide and prompter to
noble and worthy conduct. Law is not made for
him ; he needs not its stern compulsion — for he has
within him a finer instinct, which makes him a law
to himself. Hence honor has been styled, " the law
of kings." There is an inherent royalty in being a
law to one's self — in needing no constraint other than
that of high principle, voluntarily enthroned within
the soul.
The sense of duty is the perception of what we
ought to be and to do ; the sense of honor is the per
ception of the beautiful and sublime, the worthy and
becoming, in character and conduct. Duty refers to
the obligation to rectitude ; honor to the dignity and
nobleness of rectitude.
In looking at a piece of, mechanism, our perception
of the skilful adaptation of. the parts is one thing ; our
sensibility to the beauty of that fitness is a different
thing. So our perception of what it is right for us to
do, is one thing ; our sensibility to the beauty, the
becomingness, the glory, of that rectitude, is a differ
ent thing. The same mechanism addresses itself to
two distinct, though nearly allied perceptions, the
sense of adaptation and the sense of the beauty of the
adaptation. So the same moral rectitude — for nothing
else than rectitude can be deemed the beau ideal of
humanity — appeals to two distinct though closely
allied perceptions in the human bosom — the sense of

13
duty appreciating the obligation to rectitude, and the
sense of honor responding to the dignity and glory of
rectitude. These two perceptions will always be harmonious,
will always run in the same line, although in different
individuals they may exist in different relative pro
portions. If this view be correct, the sentiment of honor is,
and was designed by our Creator to be, a noble auxil
iary to virtue. What virtue teaches us to shun, honor
prompts us to scorn. What conscience denounces as
wrong, honor disdains as unworthy — unworthy of the
nature which God gave. What conscience dictates as
our duty, the sense of honor prizes as our glory. To
lose our personal hold upon it, would be felt to be a
terrible laceration.
Honor has been well styled the " poetry of morals."
To the sense of duty, marking what is right, the Cre
ator has superadded this fine sensibility to the attract
ive charm, the ennobling dignity, of moral rectitude.
The sentiment of honor gives nerve to virtue. It is
an added stimulus and incentive to worthy conduct.
It brings its quick perception, its acute sensitiveness,
in aid of moral obligation. If virtue be the nourish
ment of the soul, honor is the zest and flavor of that
nourishment. What, then, can be more absurd than to place one
of these principles in antagonism to the other 1 Both
stand related to the same moral rectitude : one recog-

14
nizing the obligation to conform to it, the other dis
cerning the inherent nobleness of such conformity.
Nothing, then, can be honorable that is not morally
right. But the sense of horior is liable to great perversion.
Our Saviour spoke of " the honor that cometh from
God," in contrast with that which cometh from men.
He thus recognized a Divine standard of honor, in
opposition to the perverted sentiments of men. Again
he said, and no utterance of his lips bears more
directly upon the subject before us, " That which is
highly esteemed among men, is abomination in the
sight of God."
If thy moral perceptions be perverted, if that in
thee which was formed to pay homage to excellence,
go astray from the true excellence, "if the light which
is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness !"
To enthrone in our bosoms, as our highest principle
of action, a notion of honor that openly and boldly
militates against eternal rectitude, is to exchange the
true Divinity for a false one ; it is to renounce the
Supreme Excellence, and pay homage to a deformed
and hideous idol of our own creation ; it is to put
Moloch in the place of God.
To learn what is truly honorable, shall we go to the
imbruted savage, or to, cultivated, civilized, Christian
ized man 1 The one may honor strength, cunning,
cruelty ; the other pays homage to moral worth. In
tegrity, magnanimity, generosity, unselfishness, truth-

15
fulness, boldness in maintaining right — these and kin
dred qualities attract his admiration, as the ornament
and glory of human nature. How opposite are these
to petulant vanity and barbarous revenge !
The principle of honor is thus recognized in the
oracles of God. " Whatsoever things are true, vener
able, just, pure, lovely, of good report — if there be
any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these
things." .Christianity covers the whole ground of honor as
well as of morals and religion. It shows it honorable
to forgive ; it also warrants us to " withdraw " from
those whose "evil communications corrupt good man
ners." It guards the sense of honor within us from
degenerating into pride, by the severe purity of the
standard which it sets before us, by assuring us that
every good influence upon the soul is from above, and
by presenting, not, our own glory, but the glory of
our Father in Heaven, as the pure, ennobling motive
of all our aspirations and efforts for moral elevation.
No act which, claiming applause, yet tends solely
to the accomplishment of personal ends, has in it any
thing specially chivalrous or ennobling. Of those
great deeds, the recital of which thrills the soul and
stirs the blood, self-sacrifice is an essential element.
Roman virtue could perceive how sweet and honorable
a thing it is to die for one's country :
" Hnvv sleep the brave that sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!"
" There Honor comes, a'pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay."

16
But who can pay the homage of the heart's admira
tion to any act which can easily be traced to an over
valuing of self? What is there ennobling in that
exaggerated sense of one's own dignity, which seeks
bloody revenge for a personal affront 1 Not the mere
exposure of life — which may be easier to the imbruted
than to the cultivated — not the mere exposure of life,
but the readiness to sacrifice life, if need be, in a great
and holy cause, is true glory. The love of country,
the love of truth — these crown with unfading honors
the hero and the martyr.
It is of the very essence of hopor to test human
conduct by the most elevated and refined moral stan
dard, to acknowledge an inward constraint more com
prehensive and more stringent than the coercion of
human law, and to consider that course impossible
which is felt to be unworthy.
" Let all the ends thou aim'st at — be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's: then if thou fall'st,
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr."
A beautiful illustration of honor, is given by Mon
tesquieu in his "Spirit of Laws."
"After the massacre of St. Bartholomew, Charles IX.
having sent orders to the governors of the several pro
vinces for the Huguenots to be murdered, Viscount
Dorte, who commanded at Bayonne, wrote thus to the
King: 'Sire, among the inhabitants of this town and
your majesty's troops, I cannot find so much as one
executioner. They are honest citizens and brave sol
diers. We jointly, therefore, beseech your majesty to

17
command our arms and lives' in things that are practi
cable.' His great and generous soul looked upon a
base action as a thing impossible."
The voice of true honor in the human bosom is the
voice of God. It is better to sacrifice life than honor.
It is better to die, than to save life by the renunciation
of those principles which give to character its dignity
and worth. They acted on the purest principles of
honor who, in the heroic agecof Christianity, willingly,
joyfully accepted martyrdom, choosing to " obey God
rather than men." Theirs was an elevation of spirit,
which made them superior to insult and scorn, as well
as to torture and death; their own consciousness sufficed
them against the opinions of the whole world; they "re
joiced that they were counted worthy to suffer shame
for His name," whom they knew to be the incarnation
of heavenly truth and love. ' In their greatness of soul,
they looked down with only pity on those whose moral
degradation — whose want of sympathy with the good
and the true — made them scoffers and murderers.
In proportion to our estimate of the nobleness of
honor, as a principle of action, should be our hatred
and detestation of whatever falsely assumes its name
and fraudulently usurps its place. If we understand
what constitutes the glory ©f human nature — if we
know the true God, and can appreciate that pure offer
ing and sweet incense of moral rectitude that rises to
heaven as his accepted worship — then let our utmost
abhorrence be concentrated upon the idol, that, taking
3

18
to itself the sacred name of Honor, demands of its
devotees a worship as impious and profane, as irra
tional and senseless, as barbarous and bloody, as were
the idolatrous rites of the ancient Moloch.
What bolder impiety can there be than that which,
defying the law of God, dishonoring the precepts and
the character of Christ, — in revenge, perhaps, for a
hasty word, which may be regretted, which might be
forgiven — incurs the awful hazard of rushing uncalled
into the presence of the Supreme Judge, and of stain
ing the soul with a brother's blood ! " 0 my soul, come
not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine
honor, be not thou united!"
Even if private revenge were consistent with the
law of God and the welfare of society, still what but
infatuation could make any man count that reparation,
redress, "satisfaction," for injuries received, whicli pro
poses to the injured and the injurer an equal chance of
wounds and death 1 Not more senseless would it be
for both together to "pass through the fire to Moloch,"
and see which would be most burned.
It is no idle fancy that traces a resemblance between
the ancient and the modern idolatry. Place them side
by side, and mark how much they have in common.
Each openly defies the law of God. Each claims of
its devotee supreme homage, unquestioning submission.
The highest honor paid to each is the sacrifice of hu
man life. Wide-spread misery, the rupture of the ten-
derest ties, the anguish of broken hearts, the earthly

19
paradise of love and joy turned into a scene of weep
ing and wailing — these are the common-place incidents
of both forms of idol-worship. In each, too, the tra
ditionary idolatry is left a fatal legacy from one gene
ration to another ; the sin of the fathers is visited upon
the children ; the sin of society is visited upon individual
victims. False notions of honor, early implanted and
nurtured — baleful seeds sown in the quick receptive
soil of childhood and youth — naturally, necessarily,
yield a harvest of misery. ' The cruel tyranny of a
false notion of honor drives many to a course of ac
tion, not stimulated by revenge, opposed to their own
convictions of duty, and followed by bitter regret and
life-long repentance.
If we would lay the axe to the root of that blasting
tree, which poisons the atmosphere and withers all
beneath its shade — if we would put into every honest
hand a stone to hurl against that foul, grim-visaged
idol which, delighting in human tears and blood, rears
its horrid front in the midst of refined and Christian
civilization — we must begin by rectifying the notion of
honor, by adjusting it to the standard of eternal truth.
Let society but attain to the true idea of honor, derived
from those promptings in the human bosom which are
from heaven, and not from hell ; then will the idola
trous rites of the modern, a,s of the ancient Moloch,
become as revolting and abhorred in the estimate of
men, as they are an abomination in the sight of God.