H /V CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE DATE DUE "OPT { \ 1 9 70 ¥t ^~ PRINTEDINU.S.A. The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://archive.org/details/cu31924032497046 HN64 Hji'"^" """^^^'^'' '•"'"'■>' The American citizen : olin 3 1924 032 497 046 THE AMERICAN CITIZEN: HIS RIGHTS AND DUTIES, ACCOEDING TO THE SPIRIT CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. BY JOHK HEMY HOPKINS, D.D.,LL.D. BBHOP Off THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL OHUECH IN THE DIOOESE OF VERMONT. NEW YORK: PUDNEY & EUSSELL, 79 JOflF-STEEET. 1857. "^hj «5 V\\\ Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1857, Bt PUDNET & EUSSELL, In the C31erk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. R. C. VALENTINE, PUDNET & RUSSELL, Stereottper and Electrottper, Printers, 81, 83, and 85 Centre-sti-eet, No. 79 John-street, New York. , New York. TABLE OF CONTENTS. Intkoduction 15 PEEAMBLE. Peculiarities of the Federal Constitution. State Sovereignty in harmony with National Union. Constitution established by the people. Hence, the people are the Sovereign power. No title above that of the citi- zen 19 CHAPTER I. Eeligion, required by the Constitution, by reason of the official oath. This oath is a religious obligation. The religion intended is the Christian re- ligion, because this was the only religion professed by the people at the time. The Convention which prepared the Constitution. Rules of legal construction applied to the question. The Common Law established by the Constitution. Christianity inseparable from the Common Law. Proofs, from the Commentaries. Statute of "William III. Infidels ex- cluded from office, by necessary implication, under the Constitution of the United States 26^0 CHAPTER 11. Objections to the argument considered. The contrary construction popular. Objection from the Constitution, which forbids any religious test ; and requires that Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of 1 CONTENTS. religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. Answer to this objec- tion. Other objections stated, and answered. The religious professions of the Presidents, Washington, John Adams, Jefferson, and Madison. The alleged infidelity of Jefferson examined. Not proved. Human in- consistency. Paine. Voltaire. Error of the popular hypothesis. Its danger 41-65 CHAPTER ni. The religious duty of the citizen, according to the old philosophers. The mistake of the infidel who supposes himself a philosopher. The position of the great heathen philosophers, who had no divine revelation to guide them. State of mankind with respect to revelation. Noah. The ancient Israelites. Eaised up to be the witnesses of true religion to the world. Their influence lost through their unfaithfulness. Idolatry overspread the earth. Philosophy arose six centuries before the Christian era. Thales. Pythagoras. Plato. Aristotle. Epicurus. Antisthenes. The Cynics. The Sceptics. The Stoics. The New Academy. The Eclectics. All the philosophers agreed in the duty of supporting the heathen idola- try established by law and custom, because religion of some sort was necessary to justice, and the worst religion was better than none. Proofs from Pythagoras. From Plato. From his master Socrates. From Aris- totle. From Epictetus. From Plutarch. From Cicero. True meaning of philosophy according to the ancients. It signifies the love of Wisdom. TTie term does not belong to those who only excel in the natural sciences. The real philosophers would have scorned the claims of men who refused to do honor to the religion of the nation, and endeavored to imdermine the only basis of real morality and virtue 66-76 CHAPTER IV. The religious rights of the American citizen. He may choose amongst the varieties of the Christian faith, which existed at the time when the Con- stitution was established. Legal rule of construction, from the intention of the people who adopted the Constitution. The case of the Jews con- sidered. All heathen religions excluded, by necessary implication. Like- vrise all new inventions, such as Morlnonism. The case of the Church of England. The case of the Church of Kome. Constitutional safeguard. CONTENTS. Anomalous position of the Romanist under the Constitution. Inconsis- tency of Popery with the toleration of the Constitution. Anathema. The religious duties of the American citizen. 1. To reverence and sup- port Christianity. 2. To study the Bible, in the authority of which all Christians agree. 3. To compare with it the variety of religious profes- sions. 4. To select for his Church that which comes nearest to the Scriptures. 5. To attend upon its services with regularity. Thus much is due to his obligations as a citizen— though it does not make him a true Christian — because Christianity is the basis of government and law. Consequences of infidelity destructive to the public welfare, as shown from the French Eevolution of 1793. Every blessing of the present life depends on the religious principle 77-96 CHAPTER V. Politics. The science of politics belongs to every citizen, because he is a partner in the republic, according to Aristotle. It embraces the whole range of government, law, and moral action. Politics is also an art, and here it is liable to great abuses. The basis of politics is morality ; as the basis of morals is religion. Cicero's work, De offidis, an admirable sum- mary. The substance of it set forth : 1. On social duty ; 2. On virtue, as the highest good ; 3. On the subdivisions of virtue ; 4. On prudence ; 5. On justice; 6. On fortitude; 7. On temperance ; 8. On various maxims of duty and propriety ; 9. On piety, as first in the order of duty ; 10. On love, as a principle of influence ; 11. On avarice ; 12. On national charac- ter ; 13. On the unity of interest and virtue. The claims of Cicero as a high authority on those subjects. Agreement with the Bible, which enjoins the same, on infinitely higher ground. Rights of the American citizen with respect to politics. Freedom of speech. Freedom to form a party. Freedom to change it. Duties of the citizen : 1. To 6« such a cit- izen as the welfare of his country requires ; 2. To support such candidates as have a moral character, based on a true reverence for religion and the laws ; 3. To reject the pernicious maxim that the private character of a candidate has nothing to do with his publij: character ; 4. To make him- self familiar with the Constitution, so as to be an intelUgent as well as a virtuous citizen. Ignorance very prevalent. Suggestion of the best mode of remedying the evil 97-120 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. Constitutional rights and duties in reference to Slavery. Its aspect, with regard to religion. Its lawfulness, with reference to a heathen race, proved from the Scriptures, both of the Old and the New Testament. Such was the opinion of the whole Christian world, until the close of the last cen- tury. A change since that time in public sentiment. The higher law. None higher than the Bible and the Constitution. The lawfulness of slavery one thing, and its expediency another 121-130 CHAPTER VH. On slavery, in the aspect of philanthropy. The comparison with respect to the negro slave must be drawn, not from the condition of the free white population, but from the original barbarism of the native African. The slaves of the South have many advantages over the lower class of free la- borers. Their condition in all respects superior to what it would have been in Africa. To them, therefore, slavery has been a blessing — raising the whole in religion, morality, and intelligence, and qualifying a portion for the enjoyment of civilized freedom. Liberia provided, by the South, for such as are fit for emancipation. Africa is their proper home. And slavery, in the order of Providence, is the means chosen to fit them for its regeneration 130-138 CHAPTER VIH. On Slavery, in the aspect of politics. The Constitution. The laws of Con- gress. The duty to maintain them involved in the oath of allegiance. The authority of the Supreme Court of the United States, a part of the Constitution, which every officer is sworn to support. No real political apology for resisting these. The true politician is bound to respect them, and treat the South with fairness, justice, and liindliness, even if he pre- fers to have the institution abolished, as soon as it can be, with the con- sent of all concerned. That it will be abolished, sooner or later iu the. right way, slowly, wisely, and prudently, is the author's convic- tion 138-144 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. The expedieiwy of abolition. Slavery has heeu a blessmg to the slaves, but not to the masters ; because it entails upon them a serious amount of loss, of danger, and of onerous responsibility. It is also opposed by such a large and increasing spirit of hostility, not only in the United States, but m Europe, that it is hopeless to expect any peace or harmony in its continuance. Hence it is wise, and necessary to the permanent union of the nation, that the slaves should be emancipated and sent to Africa, as soon as practicable. But this should be done gradually, at the cost of the whole United States, and not to the injury of the South, who are in no respect to blame for the institution 144-150 CHAPTER X. The mode in which such abolition may be accomplished. The pecuniary value of the slaves, probably a thousand millions of dollars. This sum not a fourth part of the national debt of England. The United States are able to assume it, and paj' the yearly interest of sixty millions by a direct tax, and transport the freed negroes to Africa at a certain rate per annum, and settle them in the maimer of Liberia, under competent governors, without exceeding an average of twenty dollars to each taxable inhabi- tant. This tax would be only $1.64 the first year, increasing annually nntil it reached the maximum. Then it would decrease, as the tax-payers multiplied, until it dwindled down to a trifle. Under the Constitution Buch a tax would be strictly lawful ; whenever Congress had reason to believe that the measure was required for the safety of the republic. But the consent of the slave States would be necessary. Sketch of a law for such a purpose. The object might be accomplished without a direct tax, by the appropriation of all our remaining public territory, which is worth twice as much as the whole value of the slaves. Beneficial results of such a scheme : 1. To the stability of the Union ; 2. To the interests of the Southern States ; 3. To the character and fame of the republic ; 4. To the regeneration of Africa ; 5. To the final elevation of the whole negro race to their highest level. Its accomplishment needs a spirit of kindly co-operation, instead of the spirit of bitterness and strife 150-161 1» 10 CONTENTS. CHAPTEE XI. The righia and duiies of the American citizen, with regard to slavery : 1. He has a right to his personal opinions. But he has no right to form them unfairly, either in contempt of the Bible, or of the sentiments of all Christendom for 18 centuries ; 2. He has a right to believe that although slavery be lawful, yet it is expedient to dispose of it peacefully, legally, and justly, with regard to the permanent interest of the South and all the parties. But he has no right to abuse the Constitution or trample upon the law ; 3. He has a right to think that the abolition of slavery is ml expedient, but he has no right to threaten a dissolution of the Union, nor to use unlawful violence, in any fonn, towards those who differ from him. It is his duty to be just, patient, and generous, towards all who cannot see the subject in the same aspect as himself. It is also his duty to support the law, so long as it is law ; because the resistance of the law is rebellion, and exposes the whole land to anarchy and ruin. It is his duty to guard against excitement, and to remember that the subject of slavery should be treated with a sense of solemn responsibility, and in the spirit of patriotic devotion to the public good 161-165 CHAPTEE XII. Business. The term applied in its largest sense. The choice of business. The ancient rule that sons must follow the business of their father. Reasons in favor of it. Contrary to the prevailing custom of our day. Why it is so. A good general rule notwithstanding, though subject to many exceptions. How the youth may best select his business. With prayer to bo guided aright, and with consultation of his father and his friends. When selected, his duty to pursue it with faithfulness, diligence, and industry, avoiding evil company, dissipation, debt, and intemperance; observing the obligations of the Sabbath, connecting himself with some Church, reading well-selected books in his leisure hours, and specially beginning and ending each day with a portion of the Bible, and private devotion. This will be the sure path to ultimate success and pros- perity 165-178 CHAPTEE XIII. The youth becomes a man, and an employer of others. The importance of CONTENTS. 11 his position. How lie should seek to benefit those who are under his control and influence. Descriptions of the proper coui-se, and of the contrary. He has a right to insist upon then- faithful performance of their obligations to him. But it is his duty to give them a living price for their labor ; to pay them in money, and not in merchandise ; to be their counsellor and friend, and to set them, in all respects, a good ex- ample 178-187 CHAPTER XIV. The special difficulties to which certain kinds of business are liable. And first, the dangers of the Farmer 187-193 CHAPTER XV. The dangers of the Merchant 193-201 CHAPTER XVI. The dangers of the Lawyer 201-218 CHAPTER XVH. The dangers of the Physician 218-239 CHAPTER XVm. The dangers of the Editor 239-254 CHAPTER XIX. The dangers of the Minister of the Gospel 254-263 CHAPTER XX. On the Domestic Keiations. Early marriages. Objections examined. The advantages of early marriage 12 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXI. On the choice of a wife. The young man competent to make his choice ju- diciously. Rules by which he should be governed 272-280 CHAPTER XXH. On married life. The common defect of family government. The law of the wedded relation. How it should be f ulfflled 280-292 CHAPTER XXIH. On the education of children. Power of early impressions. Obedience to parental authority. Value of truth. Danger of falsehood. Maternal in- fluence. Corrective discipline. Eesult of faithful training 292-310 CHAPTER XXIV. On family schools of education. Parental character. Numbers. Eeligious instruction. Emulation. Moral principle 310-324 CHAPTER XXV. On the Common-school. Duty of government. Juvenile depravity. Law of Sparta. Moral training. The Bible. Inspection. Discipline . . . 824-341 CHAPTER XXVI. On Colleges. Their defects. Suggestions of improvement. Legislative aid 341-353 CHAPTER XXVn. On female education. Eelations of the sexes. Man, iBuperior in the intel- CONTENTS. 13 lect. Woman, superior in the affections. Mistake of the popular at- tempt to give a masculine character to the education of females. The argument examined at large. Scheme of a better system. Public exam- inations of females considered. Their evils and defects 353-376 CHAPTEE XXVIII. On physical education. Its importance. Generally neglected. Kules of management in infancy. In childhood. In schools. Gymnastics. Cal- listhenics. Legislature should provide for physical education in the pub- lic schools. Suggestion of a law in each State, establishing a permanent Board of Education. The duties of such Board. The rights and duties of the citizen in relation to the subject 376-388 CHAPTEK XXIX. On sociAi. Lira. Sociability, an instinct of nature. Its value. The plea- sures of society. Some useful, and others, the reverse. Visiting. The dinner-party. The evening-party. Kules of indulgence. Dangers of excess ■ 388-405 CHAPTER XXX. On other forms of social life. The musical soiree. The conversation-party. Tableaux. The ball or dancing-party. Argument in its favor examined at large. The card-party. Games in general considered 405-427 CHAPTER XXXI. On public amusements. Lectures. Concerts. Gallery of Fine Arts. Museums. The theatre. Argument in its favor examined at large. 427-443 14 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXII. General summary of the objects and principles of the work 443-447 ^ CHAPTER XXXin. Concluding observations. Hope the main element of human happiness. Contrast between the hope of the infidel and the hope of the Chris- tian. Dangers of the United States. Grounds of confidence. Con- clusion 447-459 INTRODUCTION, When the subject of the following work was first proposed to me, the objection presented itself, as it has probably occurred already to the reader, that the design was not in harmony with my ministerial office, and that it could be far more acceptably and usefully accomplished by some other individual, whose name and talents were known and approved amongst the statesmen and politicians of the country. And doubtless, in the minds of many, there would be much force in the objection. For the most part, the servants of the sanctuary have little familiarity with the topics suggested by the title of the present volume. The kingdom to which they are mainly devoted is not of this world. The spiritual, rather than the secular interests of man- kind, are the objects of their care. And hence, the popular im- pression of their incapacity to form a right judgment on tempo- ral questions, seems to have a plausible argument in its favor. But on further reflection, I was unable to discover any good reason for declining the task, on the ground of this supposed professional, disqualification. For, although it may be true enough that the clergy, as a class, cannot be expected to give much time or thought to Constitutional, legal, and secular mat- ters, yet it is certainly untrue that the Gospel excludes them from a full and just appreciation of the whole circle of social rights and duties. On the contrary, we know that the Scrip- 1 16 INTRODUCTION, tures deal largely with the principles of earthly government. The precepts of religion bear directly upon the obligations of man to man. The apostle Paul declares that " godliness is prof- itable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come." — (1 Tim., iv. 8.) Fairly considered, therefore, the profession of the ministry takes the broadest sur- vey of human nature, contemplates our race in its widest variety of aspects, and ought to qualify the mind and the heart for the most thorough, comprehensive, and impartial examination of all the relations of society. Being thus satisfied that there was no real propriety in declin- ing the enterprise proposed, on the mere ground of professional objection, the only difficulty which remained was the personal doubt, whether I could hope to execute it acceptably. True, indeed, it was, that it might be better done by others. But this could hardly be admitted as a valid excuse, because it would ope- rate equally against every human undertaking. All that I had a right to assume was the necessity of possessing a competent share of the- knowledge, reflection, and experience which the work required. The first thirty years of life passed in the stud- ies, business, and intercourse of the world — seven of those years given to the profession of the law — sixteen years devoted to the task of education — the training of a numerous family — abun- dant opportunities of intimacy, abroad and at home, with all the classes of society, and the whole united, from my youth up, with the constant love of books, and the peculiar tastes and habits of an author — all this seemed to warrant the hope that I might produce a work of some utility on the rights and duties of the American citizen, without any serious diminution of the labors due to the paramount service of the Gospel. At all events, I could not honestly deny that I ought to be tolerably qualified to make the effort, with a fair promise of success ; and therefore I concluded that the attempt would not be justly liable to the charge of inconsistency or presumption. With these views, I have undertaken to diseusB the various INTRODUCTION. 17 relations of the American citizen, under the general heads of religion, politics, businees, the domestic relations, and social life. I have not entered into the peculiarities of any Church or sect, beyond the range suggested by the Constitution. Neither did I propose to examine the character of any party organization. My object was to consider those principles which ought to gov- ern alike all who would be worthy and consistent members of our great Republic, according to the true spirit of our national charter ; so as to show how perfectly the precepts of Christianity, the rules of law, the maxims of philosophy, and the dictates of sound common sense, accord in recommending the course which can alone secure the lasting honor, safety, and prosperity of the whole, in just connection with the highest welfare of each indi- vidual. In the discussion of those principles, I have freely set forth my own convictions on a variety of questions, under the full belief that they will often be found to conflict, very serious- ly, with the prevailing prejudices, habits, and notions of the day. But I have too much confidence in the good sense of my readers to doubt their attachment to that peeedom of speech, which is the Constitutional right of every American citizen ; and I am quite sure that, if this freedom can be exercised in any case without offence, it ought to be, when it is used by an old man who loves his country, both North and South, who represents no party, and who has as little to fear from popular censure, as he has to hope from popular applause. Such, then, is the general plan on which these pages have been written. The theme is sufficiently extensive, and would be worthy of far higher powers than mine. Yet I may, at least, aver that notliing has been set forth which I have not examined with care and attention, and with perhaps as large a measure of impartiality and candor, as can be expected from human infirmity. With what measure of acceptance, or success my design has been accomplished, my read- ers must determine for themselves. PREAMBLE. It cannot be disputed, by any thoughtful mind, that the title of an American citizen involves many rights and duties of high privilege and responsibility, well worthy of a serious examina- tion. In several particulars of rare and peculiar interest, the history of our independence and the formation of our govern- ment are without a parallel in the annals of the world. The beneficial influence which our country is likely to exert through- out the globe, if we be true to our principles, is beyond the power of calculation. And our failure, on the other hand, would cast , a dark shade over the hopes of human progress, which the work of centuries might be unable to dispel. Before I present, however, to the kind attention of my read- ers, the series of topics which seem to me worthy of careful con- sideration on the part of every intelligent citizen, it seems neces- sary to premise a statement of those special points, in which our noble charter of liberty — the Constitution of the United States — stands alone among the nations. 1. In the primary rank of its peculiarities, we find the strik- ing anomaly which unites us as one people, notwithstanding the recognition of sovereign power in each separate State. And it is this, which foreign statesmen have found it so hard to compre- hend, although to us, it is so familiar. It is this which provides so admirably for all the wants of local administration, while it 20 PREAMBLE. is a wholesome check upon the possible encroachments of the central power. It is this which gives scope for an indefinite enlargement of our vast Republic, since every new addition pos- sesses its own Governor, its own Legislature, and its own guar- dians of social order ; while all are in subordination to the supreme Constitution which controls the whole. It is this which secures the right of the people everywhere, to elect their own immediate rulers, and yet effectually guards against the danger that any one State, however rich and able, should usurp author- ity over another. In a word, it is this which constitutes the most distinctive element of our national greatness and security. The idea was suggested, doubtless, by the peculiar condition of affairs, when the patriots of the Revolution met together, in solemn and anxious conclave, to consolidate the weak and uncer- tain confederacy of thirteen independent States, into one great nation. But it was a sublime political discovery, new to the ex- perience, and inspiring to the hopes of men. And if those pa- triots had effected nothing else, this alone would justly entitle them to the grateful homage of the world. 2. The second great peculiarity of our American Constitution presents itself in the words of the preamble: "We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the com- mon defence, promote the general welfare, and secure the bless- ings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and es- tablish this Constitution for the United States of America." Here we have the only example in the history of mankind, of a truly social compact, adopted by the act of the whole people. And in the 6th Article, the controlling supremacy of the instru- ment is distinctly set forth, in this conclusive form : " This Constitution, and the laws of the United States which shall be made in pursuance thereof; and all treaties made or wliich shall be made, under the authority of the United States, shall be the sopeemb law of the land, and the judges in every State shall be bound thereby, anything in the Constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding." PREAMBLE. 21 Now, it is manifest that the supreme law of the land can only be established by the sovereign power. And as the Constitution was so established by the people of the United States, it results, of necessity, that the sovereign power is here declared to be the people. Every citizen, therefore, being one of the people, has his share of the sovereign power. And every officer holds his au- thority, directly or indirectly, by the will of the people, under the Constitution. This is the great guaranty of our universal suffrage, by which alone the will of the people can be properly ascertained. And it confers a dignity and value on the title of an American citizen, which make it worthy of all high and honorable estimation. 3. The third peculiarity which I would here notice, meets the eye in the 9th Section of the 1st Article, where we read that " No title of nobility shall be granted by the United States." And this follows naturally from the preceding principle. For there can be no title of nobility higher than the sovereign power. But the people are themselves the sovereign power. And each citizen is. in his own right, a sharer in the sovereignty. Hence, there can be no title above the citizen, and any other badge of nobihty, conferred by the authority of the people, would there- fore involve a manifest incongruity. This provision, however, does not forbid those words of special reverence which our fore- fathers imported from Europe, and which were in general use be- fore the Constitution was established. For these are terms of office, and not titles of nohility. It is not anti-republican to give the epithet of Excellency to the President or Governor, whom the people have elected, as the more excellent, to occupy those exalted stations. Neither is it anti-republican to call him Hon- orable, whom the people have honored by putting him into the office of Judge or Legislator. But titles of nohility, on the con- trary, are personal privileges of superior rank, which have no respect to the choice of the citizens, no necessary connection with the official duty of pubhc service, and no regard to the equal rights of the community. And hence, the Constitution 22 PREAMBLE. wisely prohibits them, as inconsistent with its fundamental prin- ciple. 4. Having thus shown that the people hold the sovereign power by the express terms of our national charter, and that each citizen possesses an indefeasible right and share in its ad- ministration, the way is prepared for the fundamental question of the opening chapter. THE AMERICAN CITIZEN: HIS RIGHTS AND DUTIES. CHAPTER I. ON THE CONSTITUTIONAL EEQUIEEMENT OF EELIGION. The high dignity and vast importance of religion give it, most justly, the leading place in a work devoted to the rights and duties of the American citizen. For our nation claims a lofty rank amongst the nations of Christendom. Onr people are universally acknowledged as a Christian people. And yet, the absence of any distinct averment on the subject, in the Constitution of the United States, has made it a matter of doubt, with many, whether, in our na- tional character, we stand pledged to Christianity, by any legal obligations. This, therefore, presents the first in- quiry, to which I would invite the reader's attention. In the discussion of this very serious question, I hold it to be of no importance whether we find our answer in the terms of direct positive enactment, or only in the equiva- lent form of necessary implication. For it cannot be rea- sonably denied, that whatever the mode may be in which the will of the people is plainly declared by our great na- tional charter, it is equally imperative. I shall now pro- ceed to prove that religion is absolutely required; inas- much as the Constitution demands an act from every officer 2 Missing Page Missing Page 26 THK OATH OB' OFilCE. [cHAP. I. which cannot be lawfully performed without religion, namely, the taking of a solemn oath or affirmation. For thus we read in the first section of the second arti- cle, that "the President, before he enter on the execution of his office, shall take the following oath (or affirmation): I do solemnly swear (or aiBrm) that I will faithfully execute the office of president of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Consti- tution of the United States." And again, in the sixth article ; " The senatora and rep- resentatives" (of Congress) " and the members of the several State legislatures, and all executive and judicial officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by oath or affirmation to support this Constitution." In order to understand aright the only true meaning of these provisions, we must inquire, 1st, "What is an oath, in its established legal acceptation ; and, 2d, What is the Mnd of oath which our Constitution thus requires of every officei'. 1. The first of these questions cannot be better answered than by citing the language of the highest judicial stan- dard : " An oath is an affirmation or denial, before one or more persons who have authority to administer the same, : CALLING God to witness that the testimony is true : there* | fore it is termed saoramenfu7n, a holy band or tie."* Hence ) it is undeniable that the oath of office is an act which rests on religion for its whole force and validity. And the ne- cessary result is, that when the Constitution demands this oath, it demands religion ; since a lawful oath without reli- gious faith is a mere mockery, repudiated by every rule of justice, whether human or divine. * 8 Instit. 165. i CHAP. I.] NO OATH WITHpUT EKLIGION. 27 It is for this reason that no court of law will admit as a witness any man who acknowledges himself to be an athe- ist, or who does not believe in a future state of reward and punishment. For the oath is the religious guardian of truth, and no testimony is allowed without this solemn ap- peal to the Almighty. And hence we find that there can be no oflSce undertaken, and no justice administered, under the Constitution of the United States, without the implied profession of religious faith. The man who takes this sol- emn oath, while in his heart he regards it only as a sense- less form, commits a fraud upon the supreme law of the land, and cheats the nation. And no act of hypocrisy and deceit can be more atrocious than this, because it destroys the very root of public authority and order, and virtually nul- lifies the fundamental principle of all official administration. 2. The second question, however, is more open to a variety of sentiment, namely. What kind of oath is intended by the Constitution ? There are very few men who will dare to patronize absolute atheism, because it shocks the universal feeling of the community. But there are many ready to acknowledge their belief in God, and in a future state of rewards and punishments, who are far enough from pro- fessing any form of Christianity. This inquiry, therefore, is indispensable to every mind which seeks to form a true constiTiction of our supreme constitutional platform. In answering this all-important question, I should say, without hesitation, that the oath intended by the Constitution is a Chkistian oath. The God to whom it appeals is the only living and true God— the God of the Bible. I hold this to be the plain and necessary construction, by every rule of consistency, of common sense, and of sound legal interpretation. 28 MEMBERS OF, CONVENTION. [OHAP. I, First, then, we must remember that the Oonstitution was adopted by the people of the United States, in a. d. 1789, after it was prepared by a convention, consisting of thirtjT eight delegates from twelve States, under the immortal Washington, the presiding officer of the body. It may be well to specify their names, for the reader's satisfaction : George Washingtok, President and deputy from Virginia. New Hampshire . . John Langdon, Nicliolas Gilman. MaesachmeUs .... Nathaniel Gorham, Eufus King. Connecticut Wni. Saml. Johnson, Roger Sherman. New York Alexander Hamilton. New Jersey Wm. Livingston, Wm. Patterson, David Erearley, Jona- than Dayton. Pennsylvania Benj. Franklin, Eohert Morris, Thos. Fitzsimons, James Wilson, Thomas Mifflin, Geo. Clymer, Jared Inger- soil, Gouv. Morris. Delaware Geo. Eead, John Dickinson, Jaco. Broom, Gunning Bed- ford, Jr. , Eichard Bassett. Man/land James McHenry, Danl. Carroll, Dan. of St. Thos. Jenifer. Virginia John Blair, James Madison, Jr. North Carolina. .Wm. Blount, Hu. Williamson, Eichd. Dobhs Spaight. South Carolina. . .J. Eutledge, Charles Pinckney, Charles Cotesworth Pinct ney. Pierce Butler. Georgia Wilham Few, Abr. Baldwin. Of these eminent men, we do not know of one who has ever been named as indifferent to Christianity ; and it is impos- sible to suppose that they designed to expose it to discredit in the eyes of the nation at large. Washington himself, Eufus King, Alexander Hamilton, and James Madison, were avowed adherents of the Episcopal Church. Charles Cotesworth Pinckney was president of the Bible Society in Charleston for fifteen years in succession. But we have the best evidence of their Christian feeling in the well-knowft fact, that at the first assembling of the convention in 1787, CHAP. I.] THE OAT.H IS CHRISTIAN. 29 when the spirit of dissension threatened to run high, Benja- min Franklin proposed the introduction of prayer, as the only mode of securing the Divine guidance and blessing on their discussions. The motion was adopted unanimously. The Eev. Dr. Duche, an Episcopal minister of Philadelphia, was invited to attend ; and that service of Christian prayer, which has since been so well depicted by the pencil of an American artist, produced the happiest efiect on the subse- quent proceedings, until they finally closed in the adoption of the Constitution. Now, here is the surest test of the reverence which these admirable men cherished for the Christian religion. Frank- lin himself, who was the mover of the resolution, made no open profession by uniting in communion with any religious society ; but he was educated by parents of the strictest piety, and knew the benefits of Christian devotion. Many "other membere were doubtless like himself — believers in the truth of the Gospel, but withheld by scruples of conscience, as not sufficiently strict in their personal consistency, from a complete conformity with its claims. Yet they must be supposed to have been Christians in conviction at least; since, otherwise, their unanimous adoption of public Chris- tian prayer, and the excellent effects which followed it, wou^ld be entirely unaccountable. I ask, then, whether it is consistent with their ofiicial course to believe, that when they made a solemn oath or afiirmation essential to the holding of every office under the "government of the whole United States, they could have in- tended such oath to be any other than a Christian obliga- tion ? Did they mean that an infidel, or a deistical philoso- pher, or a naturalized Turk, or a pagan, might be admitted to the administration of the laws and government of the 30 THE OATH 18 CHRISTIAN. [CHAI^•I, country, for whose liberty they had labored so nobly and so long ? On the contrary, must we not suppose that they de- signed this very oath of office as a guard upon the religious faith of every public functionary, so that no man should ever be elevated to honor in 'the land, who did not accord with themselves, in reverence for the Gospel ? But this was only the preparatory work of the convcH- tion. It became the constitution by the act of ths people^ who exercised the sovereign power. And what were the people in the year 1Y89 ? I answer that they were a Chris- tian people, in whose eyes the oath of office could only have been regarded as a Christian oath, since no other would have been accordant with their principles, their feelings, or their accustomed modes of action. This was the oath which they had constantly seen administered in all their courts of justice. They knew nothing of heathen, infidel, or Turkisli forms of appeal to the Deity ; and, therefore, in their minds, the oath of office could not have had any other meaiiiiig than that with which they had always been familiar. I ask then, again, whether it accords with common sense to suppose that the people of the United States could have intended this oath to bear a different sense from its Christian acceptation ? Is it reasonable to believe that they even con- templated the possibility of having Jews, Turks, pagans, or infidels invested with the future srovemment of their coun- try ? Yet there was nothing in the Constitution to pi-eveat it, but this very oath of office. And if there could have been any doubt in the minds of Christian men that this was a sufficient protection to the Gospel faith, can it be ques- tioned for a moment that there would have been an indig- nant opposition raised against the proposed scheme of na- tional imion, from one end of the land to the other ? CHAP. I.] KTJLES OF INTERPRET A'l ION. 31 For it should be remembered that this great measure was adopted at a time of strong and universal excitement, soon after the terrible struggle of the Eevolutionary war, in which the clergy had borne an active part, by public as well as private exhortation. Even if the people had not been roused to the keenest examination of the plan proposed, their ministers would have taken immediate alarm at the form of a constitution which threatened them with a gov- ernment of infidelity. "What could have quieted their fears, unless they trusted to the oath of office for protection? What could have prevented their loud and earnest remon- strance, but the confidence which they felt in the Christian force of that solemn obligation? Plence, in the very fact that the people adopted the Constitution, with the acquies- cence of the clergy, at a period when their voice was listened to with far more res]3ect than now, we have another demonstration obvious to common sense, in favor of its accepted meaning. Such being the only character of this official oath which can be justified by ordinary reason and consistency, I proceed, in the third place, to consider the accordance of the result with tibie rules of legal interpi-etation. And these I shall set forth from the standard authority of Blackstone's Commentaries. " The fairest and most rational method," saith this learned Judge, " to interpret the will of the legislator is by exploring his intentions at the time when the law was made, hy signs the most natural and probable. And these signs are either the words, the context, the subject-matter, the effects and consequences, or the spirit and reason of the law. 1. " Words are generally to be understood in their usual and most known signification, not so much regard- 82 FIRST BULK. [chap. I. ing the propriety of grammar, as their general and popular use. 2. " If words happen to be still dubious, we may estab- lish their meaning from the context — thus the proeme, or preamble, is often called in to help the construction of an Act of Parliament. Of the same nature and use is the comparison of the law with other laws, that are made by the same legislator, that have some aiSnity with the subject, or that expressly relate to the same point. 3. "As to the subject-matter^ words are always to be understood as having a regard thereto, for that is always supposed to be in the eye of the legislator, and all his expressions directed to that end. 4. "As to the effects and consequence, the rule is, that where words bear either none, or a very absurd significa- tion, if literally understood, we must a little deviate from the received sense of them. 5. " But lastly, the most universal and effectual way of discovering the true meaning of a law, when the words are dubious, is by considering the reason and spirit of it ; or the cause which moved the legislator to enact it."* Now let these rules be applied to the question, and I think the result will be perfectly satisfactory. 1. The first rule directs us to understand the words of the law in their usual and most hnoivn signification, not so much regarding the propriety of gramviar, as their general and popular use. This is precisely what I have done, by appealing to the well-known sense in which an official oath must have been understood by a Christian people. In propriety of gram- * Commentaries, B. I. p. 59, 60. CHAP. I.] SECOND RULE. 33 mar, the term Oath might be taken in a heathen sense, or in a Jewish sense, or in a Turkish sense, or in a deistical infidel's sense, because all of these are in use by certain classes of men and people. Oaths have been in existence amongst all nations from the earliest antiquity, and employed for the same purpose, namely, to be a guard upon the conscience in the service of fidelity and truth. But the usual and most Tcnown signification — the general andpojo- ular use among the people of the United States who adopted the Constittotion, must be our rule, according to the learned commentator. And vs^hat these were, is too plain for dis- pute or prevarication. 2. His second rule, when words are dubious, is to consult the context, and he particularly specifies the preaml)le. Now the preamble to the Constitution is in these words : " We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tran- quillity, provide for the common defence, promote the gen- eral welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution." Could the people, who knew and acknowledged no other religion but the Gospel, have intended to attain those objects without a Christian government? Could they have promised these blessings to themselves and their posterity, without the favor of the only living and true God? And with a full knowledge of the awful calamities which befell the ancient Israelites, in consequence of the impiety of their rulers, could they have been willing to expose the nation to the divine malediction, by the total absence of any protection against infidel presidents, and infidel gov- ernors, and infidel legislators? Such a supposition is absurd. And therefore, as the oath of office is the only 2" 34 THE COMMON LAW. [CHAP. I. guard provided in the Constitution, it results from the veiy objects which they had in view, that this oath must receive a Christian interpretation. But there is an important part of this second rule which aids not a little to strengthen my argument. For the learned commentator directs us to consult the other laws " which have affinity with the subject, or that expressly relate to the same point." And here we have the 6th and 7th Articles of the Amendments to the Constitution, pro- viding that " the right of trial iy jury shall be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury shall be otherwise re-examined in any court of the United States, than aecordi/ng to the rules of the common lawP These provisions, of themselves, establish the Christian character of the Constitution, and of the oath of office, because the common law was the birthright which the colonies brought with them from England, and in all its oaths, principles, and sanctions, it is inseparably connected with the Christian faith. Thus Blackstone saith : " Blasphemy against the Almighty, by denying his being or providence, or by contumelious reproaches of our Saviour Christ, as well as all profane scoffing at the holy Scripture, or exposing it to contempt and ridicule, are offences punishable ojt com/mon law by fine and imprisonment, or other infamous corporal punish- ment ; for Christianity is part of the laws of England."* And again, the same standard authority lays down the following principle : " Doubtless the preservation of Chris- tianity as a national religion is, abstracted from its own intrinsic truth, of the utmost consequence to the civil state. * Commentaries, B. IV. p. 59. CHAP. I.] TflK COMMON LAW. 35 The belief of a future state of rewards and punishments, the entertaining just ideas of the moral attributes of the Supreme Being, and a firm persuasion that he superintends and will finally compensate every action in human life (all which are clearly revealed in the doctrines, and forcibly inculcated by the precepts of our Saviour Christ), these are ikiQ grand foundations of all judicial oaths; which call God to witness the truth of those facts which perhaps may be only known to him and the party attesting. All moral evidence, therefore, all confidence in human veracity, must be wealMnedhy apostasy, and overthrownhy total infidelity. Wherefore all aflfronts to Christianity, or endeavors to depreciate its efficacy in those who have once professed it, are highly deserving of censure."* The crime of apostasy was formerly punished by death, in England, and the writ de hcBretico comburendo was " thought by some," saith Blackstone, " to be as ancient as the common law itself'f But this severity was done away by the Reformation, and the nation was afterwards afliicted by a great irruption of licentiousness in the time of Charles II. The account of this, given by the learned commen- tator, is instructive and valuable. " About the close of the 17th century," saith he, " the civil liberties to which we were then restored being used as a cloak of maliciousness, and the most horrid doctrines, subversive of all religion, being publicly avowed, both in discourse and writings, it was thought necessary again for the civil power to inter- pose, by not admitting those miscreants to the privileges of society, who maintained such principles as destroyed all moral obligation. To this end, it was enacted by statutes 9 f pommentaries, B. IV. p. 48. t It>. p. 46. 86 THE COMMON LAW. [CHAP. h and 10, W. III., c. 32, that " if any person educated in, or having made profession of, the Christian religion, shall, by- writing, printing, teaching, or advised speaking, deny the Christian religion to be true, or the holy Scriptures to be of divine authority, he shall, upon the first offence, be ren- dered incapable to hold any office or place of trust ; and, for the second, be rendered incapable of bringing any action, being guardian, executor, legatee, or purchaser of lands, and shall suffer three years' imprisonment without bail. To give i-oom, however, for repentance, if, within four months after the first conviction, the delinquent will, in open court, publicly renounce his error, he is discharged fo)' that once from all disabilities."* This salutary statute was adopted in principle by many of the colonial legislatures, and became the general guide of public sentiment throughout the whole ; thus affording another strong legal ground for the fact which I have as- serted, viz., that the people of the United States, at the time when they adopted our great American Constitution, could never have intended infidels to occupy any public ofiice, and therefore must have understood the oath which they required, according to its established and customary sense, as importing a belief in Christianity. But to recur to the common law, which is distinctly recog- nized in the Amendments to the Constitution, I claim it, under the second rule of legal construction, as perfectly con- clusive upon the character of the oath of ofiice, because there can be no such thing, in legal interpretation, as the separation of our common law from the Christian religion. It was under Christianity that this law assumed its English * Commentaries, B. IV. p. 44. CHAP. I.] THIRD EULE. 37 form. The very name of jury {juratores) is derived from the oath, as they swear to give a true verdict, and this oath, by which they are qualified, has never been, and can never be, dissociated from the sense of Christian obligation. So true is this, that a conviction for blasphemy or a sen- tence of excommunication, would be, at common law, a fa- tal objection to a juror; and on challenge, propter deliotum, in legal parlance, he must be set aside.* Indeed the very idea of a jury of Turks, Jews, or infidels, would be regarded, in law, as a pure absurdity. TIius, the oath demanded by me part of our Constitution as an essential qualification for 3very oflSce in the United States, is virtually defined by the jommon law and trial injury, which are demanded in the 3ther. For it is not possible to find any reason why the character of that solemn appeal should bear a difierent in- :erpretation, in the several clauses of the same instrument. 3. I pass on, accordingly, to the Sd rule of construction, vhich is, that words are always to be understood as having I regard to the subject-matter, for that is always supposed to ie in the eye of the legislator, and all his impressions di- 'ected to that end. This is precisely the ground which I have taken. The •uhject-matter of the oath of office can only be underetood IS a qualification for office, since, if it be not this, it is man- festly good for nothing. But I have just shown, on the -uthority of Blackstone, that a belief in the essential truths if Christianity is the grand foundation of all judicial oaths, ,nd that all moral evidence, and all confidence in human eracity, must he weakened iy apostasy, and overthrown hy otal infidelity. Hence, when the foundation of Christian * Co. Lit. 158, B. 38 FOURTH KtJLE. [CHAP. I. belief is taken away, the oatli is stripped of all validity in the eye of the English common law, from which we have derived om- own. The intended qualification for official character becomes an idle form, and the whole subject-mai- ter of this Constitutional requirement is perfectly annihi- lated. 4. And this brings me to the 4th rule of construction, which is equally applicable to my conclusion, namely, the effects and consequence — a rule of so much importance that when the words of a law, literally understood, hear either none, or a very absurd signification, we must a Utile devi- ate from the recevoed sense of them. Happily, in the present case, there is no such difficulty, because the word Oath, in its proper legal sense, and in its established popular meaning, bears the right interpretation. But the practical abuse of our political liberty, on account of which I have considered it necessary to treat the subject so much at large, has debauched the public mind to a fear- ful extent in our day. And therefore I proceed to show that this 4th rule is worthy of an important place in the argument. "What then would be the effects and consequence of the construction for which I contend ? Simply these : that no man could take the oath of office in its true Constitutional sense, unless he were a believer in the essential truths of the Christian religion, as revealed in the Holy Scriptures, and thus all infidels would be excluded, in accordance with the statute of William HI., not from their social intercouree, not from the free exercise of their business or profession, not from the unmolested indulgence of their individual opinions, but from those high and public functions which invest men with authority and influence, and render their HAP. !•] FOUETH EULK. 39 rinciples and conduct practically operative, to a wide xtent, on the whole character and destiny of the nation. What, on the other hand, are the probable effects and onsequence of the opposite construction ? That the popular lind will learn, more and more, to discard the religious asis of oaths, and of all other moral obligations — that the lost solemn appeal to the only living and true God will be onsidered as a mere form, signifying nothing — that the Ivor of the Almighty towards these United States will be xploded, as being no real element of national prosperity r success — that every thing will be held to depend on luman talents and human energy, without regard to reli- ious truth or conscience — that public honor and respect rill be considered as having no connection with individual irivate charactei* — that the most abandoned profligate will ften be preferred as the best and worthiest representative nd legislator — that the highest temporal good will be con- idently expected from an evil instrumentality — that the lan who chooses a reckless and unprincipled course for imself, will be thought as likely as any other to jjui-sue a ure and patriotic career for his country — that, in fine, the Jonstitution will be regarded as if it were constructed for Qe express accommodation of the infidel — as if the voice f the people were the only voice of God, and he who could 3cure this, in the awards of the present life, need give him- 3lf no concern about the judgment of eternity. Surely the effects and conseq^iences of these opposite con- ductions give vast importance to the right decision of the uestion. No refiecting mind can doubt that the exaltation f men to ofiices of public honor and profit, who are known ) be irreligious and profane, must work increasing evil to le faith and morals of the nation. "While, on the con- 40 FIFTH EUI-E. [chap. I. trary, a just respect to the tnith and majesty of God, ex- acted, by general consent, from every candidate for popular distinction, must tend most powerfully to guard and pre- serve the best and highest principles of real patriotism, and elevate our noble republic more and more, by the divine favor, in the esteem and confidence of the whole civilized world. The 5th and last rule of the learned commentator, which he calls " the most universal and effectual way of discover- ing the meaning of the law," is " to consider the reason amd spirit of it, or the cause which moved the legislator to enact it." And this I hold to be pSrfectly conclusive on the point. For the reason and spirit of a law demanding an oiBcial oath, can only be found in the obligation which it is believed to impose on the religious conscience of the officer who tabes that solemn form upon his lips. And it is im- possible to assign any cause which moved the convention who prepared, or the people who adopted the Constitution, in requiring such an oath, except the determination to ex- clude from public ofiice every man utterly destitute of Chris- tian principle. I have thus gone over the whole of the tests to which this grave and important question should be subjected, because I am perfectly aware that my conclusions are likely to meet with little favor, in the reckless liberality of the present day. Yet I may safely challenge a refutation of the argu- ment, on any ground of law or reason. And I pass on to some other aspects of the subject, with a consoling reliance on the familiar maxim, that " truth is mighty, and will pre- vail." Perhaps not now — perhaps not soon — but certainly hereafter. CHAP, n.] OBJECTIONS CONSIDEKED. ' 41 CHAPTEE II. THE OBJECTIONS TO THE CHEISTIAN CONSTEUCTION. Fully persuaded, in my own mind, that the religious aspect of the oath of office is of the highest value to the character and the best interests of our beloved country, and desirous to have the argument in its favor perfectly understood, I shall devote the present chapter to a candid examination of the reasons usually assigned in support of the contrary notion; which is doubtless the popular one, and therefore the more dangerous, as it is the more difficult to overcome. The most plausible argument on the side of the prevail- ing opinion, is derived from the 3d Section of the 6th Article of the Constitution, where it is provided that " no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States." In addition to which, the 1st Article of the Amendments expressly directs that " Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." These enactments are apt to be misunderstood by the ordinary reader, as quite conclusive against the Christian character of the oath of office. Let us consider their true import, under the acknowledged rule of legal interpretation, that every clause must be so explained as to harmonize with the rest, in order that the whole may stand together. 42 FIRST OBJECTION. [CHAP. II. To this end, we have only to ascertain the real meaniKg of the phrase, " religious test." And that, as every lawyer knows, must be settled by a reference to the familiar history and current phraseology of the mother country. Now England had then, as she still has, a Church establishment. She had also a variety of laws, commonly called fo«i-laws, by which every man was excluded from holding office who could not conform his religious opinions to the standard fixed by the authority of Parliament. Those test-laws were, of course, exceedingly obnoxious to all, except the members of the established Church ; since, under their pro- visions, not only the Roman Catholic dissenters, but the numerous Protestant sects, were effectually debarred from every civil office in the public service. Thus, they were tolerated religiously., while they were not tolerated politi- cally j and the disadvantages of their position doubtless operated powerfully in drawing them away to the colonies of America, where perfect toleration and equality, both religious and political, were secured to them. Hence, when those colonies had succeeded in casting off their former allegiance, and the new republic was about to adopt the grand constitutional principles of rational liberty, which were to define its future character among the nations of the earth, it was justly regarded as an essential point that there should be no infringement of the rights of conscience, no test-laws to confine the honors of public office to any privi- leged religious class, no Church establishment to claim superiority over the other Christian societies, and no restric- tion to discourage the free exercise of every known and admitted variety of the Gospel system. That such is the historical, natural, and legal sense of the clauses in question must be obvious, on reflection, to every HAP. n.] FIRST OBJECTION. 43 andid reasoner. And, therefore, the attempt to construe tiem so as to tolerate infidelity, seems to me exceedingly 'ild and preposterous. The Constitution does not say that .0 religious faith should be required, but that no religious 'M should be required, which, when we remember the rell-known test-laws of England, conveys a totally different leaning. If we abandon this construction, we fall at once ito the most absurd inconsistency; for the Constitution emands the official oath, and the oath of jury trial accord- ig to the common law. And I have already proved that bese oaths are religious obligations^ involving, of necessity, mongst professed Christians, a certain amount of Christian aith. But it is impossible to suppose that the Constitution rould require the oath, and yet prohibit the requisition of ae religious faith which gives that oath its whole validity. Ln official or judicial oath, without religion, is a contradic- ion in terms. And no American citizen can be justified in xing such a mockery as this, upon the Constitution of his ountry. The obvious design of these provisions, therefore, was to uard the Christian rights and liberties which were then njoyed, from all future danger. The Congregation alists, ae Dutch Eeformed, the Scotch and English Presbyteri- ns, the German Lutherans, the Friends or Quakers, the iaptists, the Methodists, the Eoman Catholics, the Episco- alians — all had an equal interest in the public offices of the overnment — all professed some mode of the same Christian lith — all were alike anxious to be protected from invasion, nd, since none amongst them could pretend to any legaL- ;ed supremacy above the rest, all were determined to uard their own rights against the possibility of encroacl).- lent. With this view, they wisely provided against the 44 OTHEE FALLACIES. [CHAP. 11. attempt, by making it a part of the Constitution that there should be no religious test required as a qualification for office, in order that all the various denominations should have free and equal access to the honors of the republic. "With this same view, they forbade Congress to pass any law for the establishment of religion, or to prohibit the free exercise thereof, because it was their object to protect Christianity, as it was recognized in their own day, on the fair and equitable ground of enlightened toleration. On this construction, every clause of the Constitution is right, harmonious, and consistent. But if we suppose, on the con- trary, that they united to patronize infidelity, to nullify the very oath which they were so careful to require, and to give the same political confidence to those who vilified, as to those who reverenced the common religion of the land, we involve at once the Convention by whom that solemn com- pact was prepared, and the people by whose vote it was adopted, in an act either of thoughtless absurdity, or of deliberate profanation. The only remaining argument in favor of the infidel hypothesis rests upon a set of popular fallacies, which may be fairly stated as follows. It is said that the officers and rulers of the nation are required to discharge secular func- tions, with which religion has nothing to do ; that, in fact, the least religious men are often the best qualified, by their superior energy and talents, to perform their allotted duties ; that the great leaders amongst our revolutionary patriots were not professors of Christianity in any form ; that some s>i our most successful presidents were even known to enter- tain infidel sentiments ; that the only effect of a rule which 'should I'equire a religious profession in our public officers, even if it were possible to adopt it, would be to make them ^i^- II.] FIEST FALLACY. 45 ypocrites ; and, finally, that such a rule, in the liberal and nlightened temper of our day, is absurd and ridiculous, ecause it is perfectly impracticable. Here, assuredly, is a very plausible arrangement of bjections, to which candor and reason require me to reply, -et me invoke the same candor and reason on the part of ly readers, that they may form a just and fair conclusion. 1. The first branch of the argument consists in the assump- on that religion has nothing to do with the discharge of 2cular ofiices, and that, in fact, the least religious men are ften the best qualified, by their superior energy and ilents, to fill them acceptably. To this I reply, that the successful discharge of every ffice demands a principle of far higher efScacy than mere uman learning, energy, or talent can bestow, namely, the Dnscientious devotion to our duty, as in the sight of an [mighty and unerring Judge, who will not fail to bring us efore His supreme tribunal. Let the public functionary e endowed with all the energy and talent in the world, lit destitute of a religious conscience, and what security m we have against the claims of his personal interest, his )vetousness, his ambition, his neglect, his love of licentious idulgence, and the pestiferous influence of his example ? ; may be supposed that his pride of character, and his igard for popular opinion, will furnish motives strong lOugh to keep him in the track of official propriety; it all experience proves that these are weak restraints in ,e hour of temptation. The chosen servant of the public ust have conscience, or he is not worthy of our confidence, nd it is impossible to have this conscience, without a ligious sense of accountability to God. The official oath required of all our functionaries for that very reason, 46 SECOND FALLACY. [CHAP. H, because it binds the conscience by the religious principle. In demanding this, as the necessary qualification for every office in the United States, there is no risk incurred on the score of energy or talent, because Christians can always be found who have more than enough of these for the public service, and no man can deny the proposition who has the slightest acquaintance with the facts of history. 2. The second head of this objection presents the state- ment, that the great leaders amongst our revolutionaiy patriots were not professors of Christianity m any form, and that some of our most successful presidents were even known to entertain infidel sentiments. And this is an as- sertion which is apt to have so much practical influence with the common mind — although, in strictness, it is entirely iiTclevant — that I must ask the reader's patient attention to the answer. I admit, with sorrow, that the great leaders amongst our revolutionary patriots were not professors of Christianity in the full and complete form which was required by a just sense of religious duty. But I utterly deny that they were not professors of it in any form at all. On the contrary, I assert that they were its friends, its adherents, and its sup- porters in their public acts, and that there was not one amongst them who could have been induced to ignore its sacred claims, by any distinct and open manifestatioiiw That their public declarations and their private course were not in all respects consistent, must be granted. That the lack of this consistency has deprived their example of a vast amount of moral influence, which they would otherwise have been enabled to secure, must be granted likewisBi. But, however, as a Christian man and a true lover of wj country, I am obliged to lament the fact— however I may CHAP, n.] Washington's religion. 47 be compelled to ascribe to this fact a large share of the offi- cial degeneracy which is so generally complained of at the present day — yet, in justice to those distinguished men, I must set forth some unquestionable proofs that the greatest of the class were Christians in belief — Christians in coifi- science — who would have resisted, with all their power, the official claims of infidelity. To begin, then, with the eminent "Washington. His in- augural address, delivered April 30, 1789, contains the fol- lowing passage, which bears an affecting testimony of his strong desire to do honor to religion : " It would be peculiarly improper to omit, in this first official act, my fervent supplication to that Almighty Being who rules over the univei'se — -who presides in the councils of nations — and whose providential aid can supply every human defect, that Ma benediction may consecrate to the liberties and happiness of the people of the United States, a government instituted by themselves for these essential purposes ; and may enable every instrument employed in its administration to execute with success the functions allotted to his charge. In tendering this homage to the great Author of every public and private good, I assure myself that it expresses yoiu" sentiments not less than my own, nor those of my fellow-citizens at large, less than either. No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand which conducts the affairs of men, more than the people of the United States. Every step by which they have advanced to the character of an independent na- tion, seems to have been distinguished hj some token of providential agency ; and in the important revolution just accomplished in the system of their united government, the tranquil deliberations and voluntary consent of so many dis- 4:8 Washington's religion. [chap. n. tinct communities, from whicli the event has resulted, can- not be compared with the means by which most govern- ments have been established, without some return of piom gratitude, along with an humble anticipation of the future blessings which the past seems to presage. These reflec- tions, arising out of the present crisis, have forced them- selves too strongly on my mind to be suppressed. You will join with me, I trust, in thinking that there are none under the influence of which the proceedings of a new and free government can more auspiciously commence." To this long and interesting expression of religious rever- ence, I may add another sentence from the same document, which strongly expresses a great fact too often forgotten in our day : " There is no truth," saith "Washington, " more thoroughly established, than that there exists in the economy and course of nature an indissoluble bond between virtue and happi-. ness — between duty and advantage — since we ought to be no less persuaded that the propitious smiles of Heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right, which Heaven itself has or- dainedP''' But we have a still more clear and admirable proof of Christian sentim'ent in his invaluable Farewell Address, published at the age of sixty-five, on his retirement from the presidential chair, where he speaks as follows : " Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to politi- cal prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable swp- ports. In vain would that man claini the tribute of patri- otism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of Congressional Edition of the Constitution, p. 212-8. CHAP, n.] Washington's religion. 49 human happiness — these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. The mere politician^ equally with the pious rrian, ought to respect and cherish them. A volume could not ti-ace all their connections with private and public feli- city. Let it simply be asked, where is the security for prop- erty, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious olliga- tion desert the oaths which are the instruments of investi- gation in courts of justice ? And let us with caution indulge the supposition, that morality can be maintained without religion. "Whatever may be conceded to the influence of i-efined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason a/nd experience hoth forMd us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principles. ''''* " Observe good faith and justice towards all nations ; cul- tivate peace and harmony with all : religion and morality enjoin this conduct ; and can it be that good policy does not equally enjoin it ? Can it he that Providence has not connected the permanent felicity of a nation with its vir- tue ?"f And, once more, in his letter to President Adams, in re- lation to his appointment, by Congress, as lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of all the armies raised, or to be raised, under the Federal government, on account of the imminent danger of a war with France, Washington em- ploys this language : " Satisfied, therefore, that you have sincerely wished and endeavored to avert war, and exhausted to the last drop the cup of reconciliation, we can with pure hearts appeal to Heaven for the justice of our cause, and may confidently trust the final result to that hind Providence which has * Congressional Edition of the Constitution, p. 224. t Ibid. 226. 50 EBLIGION OF JOHN ADAMS. [CHAP. n, heretofore amd so often signally favored the jpeaple of thesi United States."* These extracts are abundantly sufficient to prove that the admirable man who earned the title of " Father of his Coun- try," was not only a Christian in sentiment, but was ready, on the most important and public occasions, to proclaim and enforce his religious principles, and to maintain the all-iia- portant truth that religion was the only sure basis of the national prosperity and welfare. And this was in full accordance with other facts whiek marked his life. He was known to be in the habit of pri- vate prayer. He rebuked, in the army, the common prac- tice of swearing and profanity. He offered thanks to God, at his table, in the absence of a clergyman ; and he never failed to be punctual in his attendance at the morning ser- vice of the Church, where his serious deportment was an example of propriety. With perfect truth, therefore, did General Henry Lee, in the funeral oration which he was appointed to deliver before Congress, December 26th, 1799, characterize the lamented Washington as "^wws, just,- hu- mane, temperate, sincere, uniform, dignified, and command? ing, whose examjple was edifying to all around him"\ With perfect consistency did the orator conceive the de? parted spirit of the pati'iot sage as uttering from heaven the counsel, " Reverence religion,"X ^^^ s^Q^ was the counsel which he had always delivered on earth. I proceed next, however, to show that the model thus ex- hibited by the first President of the United States was faith- fully followed by his successors. Thus the eminent John Adams, in his inaugural address, March 4, 1797, concludes * Congressional Edition of the Constitution, p. 288. + Ibid. 256. X Ibid. 257. CHAP, n.] EELIGION OF JEFFEESOW. 51 with the following words : " And with humble reverence, I feel it to be my duty to add, if a veneration for the reli- gion of a people who profess and call themselves Christians, and a fixed resolution to consider a decent respect for Chris- tianity among the hest recommendations for the public ser- vice, can enable me in any degree to comply with your wishes, it shall be my strenuous endeavor that this sagacious injunction of the two Houses" (to imitate the example of Washington) " shall not be without effect. And may that Being who is supreme over all, the .Patron of order, the Fountain of justice, and the Protector, in all ages of the world, of virtuous liberty, continue his hlessing upon this nation and its government, and give it all possible success and duration, consistent with the ends of his Providence !"* The inaugural address of the distinguished Thomas Jef- ferson came afterwards, in March, 1801. And here we find the same distinct acknowledgment. " Kindly separated by nature and a wide ocean from the exterminating havoc of one quarter of the globe ; too high-minded to endure the degradations of the others; possessing a chosen country, with room enough for our descendants to the thousandth generation ; entertaining a due sense of our equal right to the use of our own faculties, to the acquisitions of our own industry, to honor and confidence from our fellow-citizens, resulting, not from birth, but from our actions and their sense of them ; enlightened hy a henign religion, pi-ofessed, indeed, and practised, in various forms, yet all of thein inculcating honesty, truth, temperance, gratitude, and the love of man J acknowledging and adoring an overruling Providence, which, hy all its dispensations, proves that it * Congressional Edition of the Constitution, p. 274-5. 62 RELIGION OF JEKFEESON. [OHAP. n. delights in the happiness of man here, and his greater happiness hereafter — with all these blessings, what more is necessary to make us a happy and prosperous people ?"* — " Relying, then, on the patronage of your good will, I ad- vance with obedience to the work, ready to retire from it whenever you become sensible how much better choices you can make. And may that Infinite Power which rules the destinies of the universe lead our councils to what is test, and give them a favorable issue for your peace and prospe7'ity."j; In the second inaugural address of President Jefferson, delivered March i, 1805, he placed on record a still stronger testimony of religious feeling. For thus, at the eloquent close, he saith : " I shall need, therefore, all the indulgence which I have heretofore experienced from my constituents. The want of it will certainly not lessen with increasing years. I shall need, too, the favor of that Being, in whose hands we are ; who led our fathers, as Israel of old, from their native land, and planted them in a country flowing with all the necessaries and connforts of life; who has covered our infancy with his Providence, and owr riper years with his wisdom and power ; and to whose good- ness I ash you to join in tour supplications with me, that He will so enlighten the minds of your servants, guide their councils, and prosper their measures, that whatsoever they do shall result in your good, and shall secure to you the peace, friendship, and approbation of (ill nations?^X The venerable James Madison, who succeeded to the presidential chair, March 4, 1809, furnishes the last ex- ample which I shall cite on this branch of my subject. * Congressional Edition of tlie Constitution, p. 276-7. t lb. p. 278. I lb. p. 283. CHAP. II.] RELIGION OF MADISON. 53 For thus he speaks, at the end of his inaugural address : " The source to which I look for the aids which alone can supply my deficiencies, is in the well-tried intelligence and virtue of my fellow-citizens, and in the councils of those representing them in the other departments associated in the care of the national interests. In these my confidence will, under every difficulty, be best placed ; next to that which we have all heen encouraged to feel in the guardian- ship and guidance of that Almighty Being, ivhosa povjer regulates the destiny of nations, whose hlessings heme ieen so conspicuously dispensed to this rising republic, and to whom we are hound to address our devout gratitude for the past, as well as our feevent supplications and best hopes FOE THE FUTUEE."* In harmony with these, I shall only notice the testimony of the Congress of the United States, in the ordinance set forth for the Northwestern Territory, July 13, 1Y87, where the 3d article declares that " Eeligion, morality, and know- ledge are necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind. "f A volume might be filled with similar proofs of the care and diligence which the founders and presidents of the re- public employed, in publicly prof essing their belief in the religion of the country. The assertion of the objector, therefore, stands in opposition to the evidence. It is true enough that they did not, in many instances, profess Chris- tianity as they should have done, by joining in communion with the Church ; but they did profess it notwithstanding, on the most important occasions, in the eyes of the whole nation and of the world. Is any one authorized to assume * Congres. Ed. of the Constitution, p. 287-8. t lb. p. «9. 54 THE CASE OF JEFFERSON. [CHAP. U. that they acted hypocritically ? Has any one a right to-say that they were infidels at heart ? Can we, with any reason or justice, impute to such men the baseness of publishing a solemn lie, intended merely to gull the popular ear, and soothe, by a miserable deceit, the Christian feeling of the community ? Let those who will, thus slander the departed patriots of the devolution. Infinitely more reasonable, more consistent, and more just is it to believe, that they wore no political mask, and practised no mean and contemptible chicanery. And therefore I contend that they were what they professed — Christians in general 'belief, able to take the oath of the Constitution with sincerity, and in all good faith ; and therefore not simulated, but real friends to the religion of their country. But the objector may turn to a single case — that of the distinguished Jefferson — whose name is commonly assumed to adorn the cause of infidelity, and whose biography un- fortunately includes some passages quite irreconcilable with the Christian faith. I do not consider myself calkd upon to settle the actual amount, or to judge the precise character of his religion. He was not a member of the Convention which prepared the Constitution, nor, even if he had been, am I aware of any rule which can make the consistency of a single individual, however eminent, a proper test of any Constitutional principle. Some reflec- tion, however, is due to the case of this and other distin- guished men, before we adopt our conclusion, as to their personal consistency. The doctrine for which I contend is, that the Constitution demands the oath of ofiice — that this oath, by necessary implication, is a Christian oath, and therefore that every man who takes it is legally presumed to be a Christian, on CHAP, n.] THE BELIGION OF THE STATESMAiT. 65 the general ground of a conscientious belief in the Gospel system. But it does not follow, as a logical result, that the Chris- tian faith reqiiired to take this oath must be manifested in its most complete form, by a union with the Church. We have all known persons who gave satisfactory evidence of sincere belief, and read the Scriptures with devotion, and lived in the habit of prayer, and did much, in various ways, to support religion, while yet they could not be persuaded to approach the sacramental table. Were they, therefore, in- fidels ? God forbid ! On the contrary, they should rather be classed with Christians, although, in some respects, they were inconsistent and erroneous. And to this judgment of charity we are the more obliged, when we contemplate the difficul- ties presented by the religious dissensions of our day ; to- gether with the doubts, scruples, and inward conflicts of opinion to which the human mind is liable. It should, moreover, be considered, that the class of per- sons who are marked out, by their prominent talent and energy, as candidates for the oflScial honors of the country, are usually men of superior knowledge and education, ac- customed to take a peculiar survey of this very question. They read more, they think more, they are brought into contact with a far wider circle of clashing sentiments ; and often, for this very reason, they find it more difficult to come to a fixed decision. In the sadly divided state of Christendom, they see obstacles to their adopting any Church or sect, until they can make time to examine, fairly " and impartially, the arguments which each produces. That time they rarely find, in the press and turmoil of their other duties ; and therefore they put oiBP, from year to year, the task of comparison, to a more convenient season. 56 THE EELIGION OF THE STATESMAN. [CHAP. II. Meanwhile they are surrounded by temptation. The habits of the world into which they ai-e thrown, seem to demand concessions which are hardly reconcilable with the strict- ness of any Christian profession. In the sphere of public life, they are exposed, more than others, to fluctuations of thought, to irregular indulgence, to the false pride of honor, to the strong excitement of passion, to the snare of popular ambition, to the being " all things to all men," in the nat- ural, though dangerous, wish to avoid offence, and gain a larger measure of general approbation. And yet, through- out the whole, they frequently retain a strong confidence in the truth of the Gospel. They know that all the Churches and sects in Christendom imite in acknowledging the same Bible, and hold the most essential doctrines of that divine revelation, substantially, in the same way. And thus far, they are believers, because there can hardly be error where all Christians agree, although there must be error where they differ. Hence, although these politicians live, and too often die, without the peace, the comfort, and consis- tency of a settled faith — without the privileges of Christian communion — without the solid approbation of their own secret conscience, or the divine succors of spiritual grace, which are pledged only to the earnest and persevering seeker, yet they are not destitute of a real religious belief, sufficient, at times, to produce the most solemn impressions; and always sufficient to give force to the obligation of a legal oath, and to insure their honest and sincere support to the general interests of Christianity. How much of this description — of which I have known many examples — would be fairly applicable to Mr. Jeffer- son, it is not in my power to decide. But one thing is cer- tain. He had the best right to speak for himself, and no CHAP, n.] THE CASE OF JEFFEESOIT. 57 man is authorized to question Ms sincerity, when he chose, on two of the most solemn occasions, to present himself be- fore the whole people of the United States, in the guise of a Christian believer. If there be any discrepancy between his public and his private statements, it is but fair to re- member that the exhibition of this discrepancy was not intended by him ; and that we have, strictly, no right to vio- late the implied trust of personal correspondence and indi- vidual intercourse, without the knowledge or approbation of the party. Before his biographer resolved to publish those letters and conversations, which have brought upon this eminent man the reproach of infidelity, it would have been but simple justice to ask himself whether Mv. Jeffer- son had ever sanctioned such an exjDOSure. And if he had not, it needs no argument to prove that the writer took a liberty with the character of the dead, which would have been utterly imwarrantable with that of the living. But, after all, what do these opposite testimonies estab- lish, beyond the fact so familiar to the experienced observer of human inconsistency? Mr. Jefferson had been long accustomed to the infidel intercourse of Paris, at the time when downi'ight atheism was most rampant, and ranged upon its side the wit and eloquence of the highest society. Is it strange if his mind sometimes fluctuated ? Is it strange if, through the common weakness of men who love the praise of authors and philosophers, he accommodated himself to the tone of those whose talents and genius he admired ? And if he carried this melancholy complaisance too far, so that he sometimes conversed and wrote, in private, with the tone of an unbeliever, does this prove that he was always in the same mood, and never afterwards felt constrained to do honor, in his serious hours, to the truth of Christianity ? 68 PAINE AND VOLTAIEB. [OHAP. n. On the contrary, it is by no means improbable that his con- victions were actually of the most opposite kinds, at various seasons — driven, like a pendulum, from side to side ; so that he may have been sincere when he uttered the words of re- ligious reverence, at one period, although he talked in quite a different strain, at another. For this we know to have been the fact, in many cases, much more strongly marked than his. Thus, the notorious Thomas Paine, during his last sufferings, was often heard to pray to Jesus Christ for mercy, when he thought himself alone ; notwithstanding the pride of consistency prevented his giving any open acknowledgment of his convictions. A far more celebrated instance, however, was that of Voltaire, the unrivalled and supreme dictator of the literary world in France, whose writings did more for infidelity than those of any other author. Yet it is admitted by his biographer, who was himself an infidel, and who, therefore, makes the acknowledgment with the utmost reluctance, that Yoltaire actually sent for the Abbe Gauthier, some time before his death, confessed to him, and gave him a profession of faith, in which he declared that " he died in the Catholic reh- gion, in which he was born." He was buried, accordingly, with the usual rites of the papal communion ; and even the king of Prussia ordered a solemn service on his behalf, in the Eoman cathedral of Berlin.* This confession of Voltaire's faith, of cora-se, threw the admirers of his infidelity into confusion. But they have never pretended to cast any doubt upon its genuineness. It was made about six weeks before his decease, when he * See the Life of Voltaire, in tlie 1st volume of the 12th edition of hia works, " (Euvrea completes de Voltaire, Paris, Baudouin Frfires, Editaurs," pp. 184-5, 188. CHIAP. n.] VOLTAIRE. 59 was in full enjoyment of his mental faculties, as is clearly- manifest from a very elegant letter addressed by him to the curate of Saint Sulpice, about the time, viz., 4:th March, 1778.* Moreover, this confession was in writing, executed in the presence of a priest and two witnesses, the one be- ing the Abbe Mignot, Yoltaire's nephew, and the other the Marquis of Yillevielle. The prior of Scellieres, where he was buried, gave Mm the usual " spiritual succors due to every Christian," the " Vespers of the dead" were chanted, the solemn mass was performed, and prayers were offered for the repose of his soul.f In a word, the parties con- cerned gave full credit to his Christian profession, as if they believed it to have been sincere. It is not my duty to pro- nounce a definitive opinion upon its real character. But I hold it to be most manifest that there is no rule of reason or of justice, which authorizes any one to call it, as this French writer has done, an act of dissimulation. For it is the well-established maxim of law that the declarations of a man, who believes himself dying, are entitled to the high- est credit, and therefore they are admitted as testimony, even in capital ti-ials, without an oath. And what worldly power could have persuaded Voltaire, to affect a faith in his last hours, which all his previous efforts had been spent in vilifjdng ? Proud of his surpassing literary fame, sur- rounded by the satellites of his infidel genius, with all the , appliances of taste, opulence, and luxury to give confidence [ to his position, and stimulated by every possible motive of I earthly influence, to make his final act confirmatory of his ' established reputation, what but the force of his secret con- [ victions could account for his deliberate resolution to disap- ' • lb. p. 671. + lb. p. 577-8. 60 VOLTAIEE. [chap. H. point the immense circle of his admirers, and cast the dark- est stain, in their opinion, upon the labors of a lifetime, by professing, with his parting breath, the doctrines of Chris- tianity ? No, no ! The infidel mode of accounting for such an act, under such circumstances, is altogether absurd and incred- ible. The conduct of Voltaire can only be understood by a recurrence to the well-known fact, that the heart of man is never truly fixed in any hypothesis which ignores the re- ligion of the Grospel. In the days of bodily health and vigor, tempted by appetite, dazzled by ambition, and ap- plauded by the voice of those who claim pre-eminence for science and liberality, it is not diflScult to silence the in- ward monitor so far as to take a bold stand against the word of God. But the heart can find no resting-place in infidel- ity. And, therefore, when the time approaches for the sol- emn change — when the soul is forced to turn in upon itself, in the anticipation of a far difi'erent tribunal — when wealth, and fame, and human praise, all fade away like the mirage • of the desert, leaving nothing but the barren sand behind — ■ it is no dissimulation to turn towards that Christian truth which holds forth the only hope of safety, the only refuge of the self-condemned transgressor, the only promise of any possible escape from the wrath to come. The faith of child- hood will then rise up, and assert its simple power ; and the perverted logic of the intellect will yield its false and wretched triumph to the stronger instinct of the heart. I claim this unquestionable case of Voltaire, therefore, as decisive of the view which I have taken of the distin- guished Jefferson. For, on a fair comparison, the ad- vantage is altogether in favor of the American patriot. A m ongst the works published by himself, there is no attack CHAP, n.] CONTEAST TO JEFFEESON. 61 on religion, no bold and hostile assault upon the Church, nor any indication of an infidel temper. While, on two marked and solemn occasions, he introduced into his inau- gural addresses language of a decided Christian character, going far beyond what the mere act of cold conventional propriety required. Yoltaire, on the contrary, devoted his extraordinary genius, throughout a long literary life, to the cause of infidelity, and waged a constant warfare against religion, with every weapon in his power. In the guise of philosophy, in poetry, in novels, by serious argument, by flippant wit, by humorous sarcasm, by amusing ridicule, he conducted his skilful and persevering siege of the Church, until his world-wide , fame became identified with scoffing derision and profanity. If such a man is entitled to the credit of sincerity, when, in his last hours, he pro- fessed himself a Christian, shall Jefferson be denied the same credit of sincerity, when he twice publicly proclaimed his reverence for the religion of his country in the ears of •the whole nation 1 Must a few private letters and conver- sations, the product most probably of those fluctuations of opinion to which his circumstances made him particularly liable, be allowed to shake our confidence in his most open and deliberate acts, while the closing confession of Voltaire is not to be contradicted by the literary labors of a life- time? Hence, on every fair ground of construction, I feel justified in denying the assertion that some or any of our Presidents were known to entertain infidel sentiments. The only one amongst them who has ever been suspected of such a charge, gave to it, himself, a public and sufficient refuta- tion. And the fact, even if it be admitted, that there were times and occasions on which he privately expressed a 62 FrCfAL OBJECTION. [CHAP. R leaning towards infidelity, although it may prove that he was not always consistent with himself, has yet no weight of sufiicient value to overthrow the force of his solemn and ofiicial declarations. As to the rest of our presidents, it is well known that their professions have always been dis- tinctly on the side of Christianity. Some of them were even in full communion with the Church. But in discuss- ing the true sense of the Constitution, it should be carefully remembered that we have to do with the public acts of ofiicial men, rather than with their personal character. This is the reason why I have already said that such in- quiries are irrelevant. No man of common intelligence would attempt 1^) settle the interpretation of the law, by ad- verting to the private conversations or letters of the judges. And just as irrelevant is the reference to the individual and domestic life of our public officers, when we are dis- cussing the real spirit and meaning of the Constitution. The remaining objections will be disposed of more read- ily, because they rest on mere assumption, viz., that " the- only effect of a rule which should require a religious pro- fession in our public officers, even if it were possible to adopt it, would be to make them hypocrites ; and finally, that such a rule, in the liberal and enlightened temper of oiu- day, is absurd and ridiculous, because it is perfectly impracticable." The first of these allegations proves too much, and there- fore proves nothing. For it is evident that if the requisi- tion of reverence for religion, on the part of our public oflB.- cers, would make them hypocrites, the requisition of tent perance, honesty, truth, or any other moral quality, would be equally objectionable on the same ground ; and so we should be reduced to the necessity of discarding morals al- GHAP, n.] FINAL OBJECTIOW. 63 together, as being entitled to no weight in the selecting of the governors, legislators, and rulers of the nation. But such a theory can never be made consistent with the Con- stitution, so long as that supreme law of the land demands the oath of office. That oath is a religious obligation^ and no sophistry can change its character. Every man who takes it, professes his belief in the great truths of i-eligion by the very act ; and if he be an infidel, the act becomes at once an act of hypocrisy. The objection, therefore, properly stated, is rather an objection to any oath at all. And since the question before us concerns the meaning of the Constitution as it stands, it is evident that the requisi- tion of religious faith is so far from producing hypocrisy, that it is, on the contrary, the only way by which it is pos- sible to prevent it. The second assumption, viz., that " such a rule, in the lib- eral and enlightened temper of our day, is absurd, because it is perfectly impracticable," is equally directed against the Constitution, for the very simple reason that it virtually nullifies the force and effect of its plain provisions, and presumes to call that absurd and impracticable, which our supreme law pronounces to be an indispensable qualifi- cation. It is evidently taken for granted, by the terms of the objection, that the religious character of the oath is sup- posed to be generally disregarded. But if so, what is the result ? Must we admit that this solemn obligation is actu- ally treated, year after year, by the officers, judges, and legislators of the land, as a worthless and unmeaning form ? Do they really appeal to God, without any belief in their religious accountability ? Do they perform an act which absolutely demands a religious conscience, without any con- science at all ? Supposing that the charge is true, what 64 NATIONAL EBPEOACH. [OHAP. n. fouler blot could be cast upon the moi-al character of our nation ? "What hypocrisy can be more base than the pre- tence to acknowledge the judgment of the Almighty by an infidel, who believes nothing of the matter? And if it be the fact that the public sentiment of the United States' is so fatally debauched — if an honest attempt to establish the only legal and consistent sense of the Constitution is to be denounced as absurd and impracticable — what is to save our country from the curse of infidelity? What lasting advantage can we gain from the labors of the Christian patriots of the Revolution, when the national heart proves recreant to the law and judgment of that Omnipotent Ruler of the world, who has said, " Righteousness exalteth a na- tion" — " Those that honor me I will honor, but those who despise me shall be lightly esteemed ?" But I am not willing to believe the horrible charge which lies at the basis of this assumption. It cannot be that in less than sixty years from the publication of that admirable " Farewell Address" of Washington, in which religion and morality are so strongly set forth as the only foundations of our national prosperity — it cannot be that we have so fatally degenerated as to have no veneration for the oath of office remaining. I doubt not that there may be a serious amount of careless and thoughtless levity in its administration. I doubt not that the true importance of this constitutional qualification is rarely regarded as it deserves. And this, indeed, is my only apology for giving the subject so large and careful an examination. But I am persuaded that there is quite too much genuine Christian principle and feeling existing in our republic, to allow of any indifference to its claims, when it is made a matter of earnest reflection. And therefore I repel the assumption that the legal meaning of CHAP, m.] HOPE OF EEFOEMATION. 65 the Constitution is absurd, or tbat the attempt to establish it is impracticable. No patriot can be justified in thinking it impracticable to fix the true sense of the Constitution of his country. It is only necessary to arouse the attention of the people to any abuse, and we have a right to assume that it will be eventually corrected. And it is the manifest duty of every intelligent citizen to encourage such an effort, in- stead of J'ielding to the destructive progress of official prof- anation, in the tame and cowardly spirit of heljjless de- spondency, or in the still more reprehensible temper of blind and reckless presumption, which dares to calculate on our national progress and prosperity, in defiance of the government of God, and expects to realize the benefits of the Constitution by a practical abolition of its best conser- vative principle. CHAPTEE III. ON THE BELIGIOUS DUTIES OF THE CITIZEN, ACCOEDING TO THE PHILOSOPHEES. It is a favorite notion of our modern infidels, that they are acting like philosophers, when they seek to destroy the reverence due to the religion of their country. They fancy that they are thus furnishing the best proof of their superior intellectual powers, when they show how much they stand aloof from the prejudices of the vulgar. And while, for the most part, they are profoundly ignorant of the real object of philosophy, they flatter themselves that they belong to the genuine aristocracy of wisdom, and are pre-eminently 66 DOOTEINES OF PHILOSOPHY. [OHAP. m. qualified to be the guides, the reformers, and the governors of the world. In the hope of affording, to the candid and sincere mind, the means of resisting this sort of foolish arrogance, I shall devote the present chapter to a statement of the doctrines maintained by the old philosophers, who all saw, clearly enough, the absurdity of the heathen religion which pre- vailed in their day, and yet universally held that every good citizen must do honor to it, because it was the established system, and the worst religion was better than none at all. To understand their position aright, however, we must remember that they had no divine revelation, as we have, to instruct them. The knowledge of the true God, which Noah possessed, and which was once universal amongst his posterity, had become sadly weakened and obscured, through the prevailing tendency of the con-upt human heart towards idolatry. Revived and estabKshed by the mercy of heaven, through the insti'umentality of Moses, the law of the Most High was committed to the nation of Israel; and that chosen people were victoriously planted in Pales- tine, — the best possible locality, during all the ancient ages, to be the central guide to the world, because it lay at the head of the Mediterranean Sea, and was surrounded by the most active agencies of political and commercial greatness. For a while, the influence produced by this arrangement was salutary and extensive, so that the kings of the earth' sought to learn the wisdom of Solomon.* But Israel itself became unfaithful. The favor of God was forfeited. In- stead of continuing to be the most prosperous and the most honored of all the nations, it was the subject of the divine • 1 Kings, iv. 84. CHAP, m.] THALES AND PYTHAGOKAS. 67 judgments, all of which the prophets had most accurately foretold. With the calamities of Israel, its religion fell into disrepute. Idolatry spread more and more, and sunk deeper and deeper into pollution, amongst the distinguished empires of Greece and Eome ; until at length, the appointed time arrived for the last great interposition of divine love, and the altars of heathenism vi^ere universally overthrown, by the truth and miracles of the Gospel. It was during the six centuries of increasing darkness which preceded the advent of the great Redeemer, that philosophy arose and flourished. But this philosophy was the product of human reason, groping after the relics of celestial wisdom, and destitute of any sure and unerring guide, through the rebellion and unfaithfulness of Israel. Hence it presented itself under the names of its several teachers, none of whom could speak with inspired authority. And these became the masters of many different and dis- cordant systems. Thales, the Milesian, was the first who was reverenced among the Greeks as a supeiior model of wisdom, about six hundred years before the Gospel era. But we do not find ' that he founded any school of philosophy, though his say- ings were repeated by his successors with great respect. The father of philosophy was Pythagoras, who flourished a 'century later, and his sect was numerous and influential. He taught that God is the soul of the world, a pure and spiritual ether, expanded through the universe, the cause and fountain of life to all things. That the sun, the moon, and the stars are filled with this ether, and should there- 'fore be adored as gods. That the human soul is a portion of this celestial ether, and is therefore immortal. That this soul is transmigrated after death, from one body to another, 68 PLATO AND AEISTOTLE. [CHAP. HI. being committed to the forms of birds, fishes, and brutes, as a discipline and punishment for sin. And therefore, as all the inferior creatures were likely to be animated by a human soul, their use as food should be strictly forbidden. A name of far wider renown, however, was that of Plato, the favorite scholar of Socrates, and the instructor of Aris- totle. He flourished about four hundred years before Christ, and his doctrines approached so near to the truth of Scrip- ture, that he was commonly believed to have had access to the Books of the Old Testament, during his extensive travels in the East. But he, too, held that the heavenly bodies are deities, and are proper objects of worship ; while, in many other respects, his system was open to grave exceptions, although greatly in advance of any other in its general scope and character. Aristotle, the favorite master of Alexander the Great, was the founder of the school of the Peripatetic philosophy, so called either because their teacher was accustomed to give his instructions while walking about, or because the place where he taught was a walk, shaded with trees. His doctrine was, that all direct knowledge rests on experience : and he opposed the two systems then most in vogue, that of emanation, which maintained that all things were a part of Deity, and the atomic, which supposed that the universe was formed by the fortuitous concourse of atoms. He did not question the being of God, as a most perfect Intelli- gence, the First Mover and Unchangeable. But he held that the Supreme Being only acted on the heavens, all the inferior spheres being governed by other eternal substances, which were entitled to be worshipped and adored. And virtue, according to his views, consisted in. acting according to natm'e. CHAP, m.] EPICUEU8 AND THE CYNICS. 69 The famous Epicurus founded his school about 342 years before the Christian era. He revived and gave acceptance to the doctrine of Democritus, namely, that every thing was produced by the fortuitous concourse of atoms, vsrithout the act of any intelligent Creator; that as the world had a beginning, it would also have an end, and that out of its ruins would be formed a new one. He denied that there was any essential difference between men and brutes, since the soul had the same material organization as the body. He admitted the existence of the gods, but taught that they lived in eternal tranquillity, and did not concern themselves ■with the affairs of mortals. The principle of moral life he maintained to be pleasure or happiness, although he was careful to define this pleasure as being inseparable from the practice of virtue. Yet, as virtue with him, as well as with Aristotle, consisted in living according to nature, it is evident that his system had no element of restraint upon the passions or the appetites : and therefore, notwithstand- ing many moralists condemned it as nothing better than Atheism, its accommodating principles made it highly acceptable to the educated youth, hot only amongst the Greeks, but subsequently, in the corrupt ages of the old Eoman empire. Within the same century, about 380 years before Christ, the school of the Cynics arose under Antisthenes, who had also been a pupil of Socrates. This philosopher chose prac- tical morals as his chief object, and Diogenes was the most famous of his disciples. JBut his sect was neither lasting nor successful, because, instead of professing to raise man- kind to a higher level, they made themselves contemptible and disgusting, by striving to inculcate the simplicity of the brutes. They soon became merged, therefore, in the 70 THE SCEPTICS AND THE STOICS. [CHAP, m, loftier scliool of the Stoics, to whose principles of hardy and self-reliant independence their maxims were most closely allied. The Pyrrhonists or Sceptics had their origin from Pyrrho, a philosopher of Elis, contemporary with the founder of the Cynics, whose aim was said to be uprightness of life, with a perfect indifference, or rather a positive hostility, to all dogmatism of opinion. The doctrine which distinguished his school was, that there could be no settled judgment about any thing, since the arguments on both sides of every question were so equally balanced as to render an absolute decision impossible. And hence it resulted that he alone was to be esteemed wise who avoided all fixed sentiments--^ who was content with saying that things seemed to be so and so, but declined saying that they were so, and preserved his own tranquillity of mind undisturbed, amongst the various conflicts of contending systems. The Stoics derived their name from the Greek word tfToa, signifying theporck, where Zeno, their founder, taught his doctrines, about 300 years before the advent of the Saviour. This school of philosophers held that the whole universe, being penetrated by the divine intelligence, is God. They also maintained that the heavenly bodies and the powers of natui-e were deities, which ought tO be wor- shipped, and therefore this system was a complete example of Pantheism. The perfection of virtue, as they taught, consisted in the true harmony of man with himself, inde- pendent of reward or punishment, so as to maintain the highest elevation above the pleasures and the pains of sense. They also taught the right of suicide whenever the indi- vidual conceived that death was preferable to life. Zeno, their founder, strangled himself at the age of ninety-eight, CHAP, m.] THE NEW ACADEMY. 71 and Cleanthes, his celebrated successor, destroyed liimSelf by intentional starvation. The New Academy was formed at a later day, by Arcesi- laus, who died at the age of T5, about 240 years before the Gospel era. It was afterwards improved by Carneades, and supported by the celebrated Cicero. Its main object was to effect a more ingenious arrangement of the Pyrrho- nian philosophy ; and hence, as this system was indulgent to. every other, while it favoi-ed an easy and courteous indifference towards all, and did not trouble the mind with any positive opinions, it was quite in harmony with the spirit of the age which immediately preceded the rise of the Gos- pel, and divided with the doctrines of Epicurus the suffrages of the best educated minds in every civilized community. Lastly, came the Eclectic school, which arose in Alexan- dria, and was frequently called the Alexandrian school, for that reason. This system had several phases, but its gen- eral design was to unite, in one harmonious whole, the Oriental, the Platonic and the Aristotelian philosophy. In its earlier form it seems to have been adopted by Philo Jud^us. In its subsequent shape, it was matured by Am- monius Saccas, towards the end of the 2d century. It never succeeded, however, in attaining any considerable degree of credit or importance. For just as the stars in the firmament vanish from the sight, at sunrise, even so did all the heathen systems gradually die away before the tri- umphant glory of the Christian faith. But while these ancient philosophers were thus divided, maintaining, with admirable ingenuity and skill, their con- tending systems, they all agreed in inculcating, with one voice, the duty and necessity of supporting the established religion of their country. 72 PHILOSOPHEES ENJOIN RELIGION. [OHAP, m. Thus, in the golden verses of Pythagoras, which, though not written by himself, are acknowledged to be a true expression of his doctrines, it is commanded that " men shall always worship the immortal gods, as they are ajp- pointed Vy the law" So Plato, in his 10th book, De Legibus, regards those persons as atheists who do not acknowledge the gods wp- pointed iy law / and again he saith, that " a wise legislator' will not attempt to innovate in any thing relating to the saci'ifices p'^'^^oribed iy the laws of the country P* So Socrates, the instructor of Plato, advised men to honor the public religion by following the established oracles.f And he acted on the principle himself, by openly using divination. The accusation brought against him by Anytns and Melitus was, that " he did not believe those to be gods whom the city acknowledged, and that he introduced other new gods." But against this charge his pupil, Xenophon, _^ zealously defended him, saying, that "Socrates sacrificed to the gods frequently, not only at home, but at the public altars." And Socrates himself, in the apology addressed to his judges, declares that he " wonders how Melitus came to know that he did not esteem those to be gods whom the city regarded as such, since many had seen him sacrificing at the common festivals, and Melitus might have seen him also, if he pleased." He further spake with veneration of the Delphic oracle, and he is stated to have even composea a hymn to Apollo, while he was in prison.^ So Aristotle, after laying down the principle that " the citizens &ve j>artners in the repvilic, since otherwise, strictly • Plat. Op. p. 702. • t Xenophon, Memor. Soo. L. i. o. 1. \ Plat. Phsedo. Op. p. 876. OHAP. m.] PHILOSOPHBES ENJOIN EELIGION. 73 speaking, tJiey are not citizens at all^^''* expressly requires that " every citizen nvust worship the gods, and therefore must reverence the priesthood. ''^\ So Epictetus, the chief ornament of the Stoic school, asserts it to be a duty incumbent on every one, to offer up libations, sacrifices, and first-fruits, according to the customs and rites of his country."'^ Plutarch has several passages to the same "effect, and Marcus Antoninus, the eminent emperor and Stoic philosopher, was remarkably strict in the public worship of the gods, and the observance of all the sacred ceremonies.§ So Cicero, in his book De Legibus, gives no precept con- cerning the worship of One Supreme God, although he did not deny thp doctrine of Plato, but he expressly prescribes the worship of the established deities, and binds it on the people, as a positive obligation, " to follow the religion of their ancestors."]] Much more of the same character might be added, but these citations are abundantly sufficient to prove the strong and united sentiment of the masters of philosophy, as to this great rule of civic duty. Yet while they all decided thus, there were not a few who censured, in many respects, the established and popular religion. 'Of com'se, therefore, thpy rendered their public homage to it, not so much on the ground of personal faith, as on the principle of indis- pensable necessity. They respected its claims, because it was the only basis for the public security. "Without re- ligion of some sort, they all knew that there could be no foundation for law, justice, or moral virtue, in the ordinary * Ariatot. De Bepub. L. iii. o. 2, p. 205. t lb. L. vii. p. 262—269. I Epiotet. Eocbirid. c. 31. § Ammian. Maroell. L. xxv. I Cioero De Legibus, L. 2, o. viii. 4 74 INFIDELS NOT PHIL0S0PHBE3. [CHAP. Hi. conscience of mankind. And, therefore, being well per- suaded that philosophy was not religion, and could not supply its place, and being ignorant of the true revelation which God had sent, to be at once the guardian of the government, and the light and comfort of each individual soul, they required it imperatively of eveiy citizen to give the benefit of his example to the established worship of the land, because they had nothing better to ofi'er as its substitute. Such was the spirit of the real philosophers, and they well deserved the honor which was bestowed on them so freely. Even we cannot refuse to reverence those admira- ble men, who employed their finest powers in the search after truth, and toiled in the midst of moral and spiritual darkness, without any safe guide to direct them. They did not reject the word of God, because they had it not. They did not despise or neglect the religion of the Saviour, be- cause it was not known to them. But while they felt, sen- sibly, the gross defects and positive corruptions of the heathen idolatry, and yearned after some higher rale of faith and knowledge, they were conscious that nothing which they were able to attain could claim the authority of a divine religion ; and they had too much love for wisdom to pull down even the false piety of pagan superstition, until they could present a true celestial revelation in its place. But what if those genuine philosophers had flourished in our day, in the full light and perfect moral purity of the Gospel system ? "What would they have said when they saw the citizens of our great republic declining to take part in a really divine worship, turning their backs upon the altars of the only living God, and carefully avoiding every thing which might bring upon them even the suspi- OHAP. m.] mFlDELS NOT PHIL0S0PHEE8. 75 elon of piety ? "What would they have said when they foimd the title oi philosopher usurped hymen who reck- lessly assailed the established religion of the land, not in order to set up a better one, but merely for the liberty of having no religion at all ? What, more especially, would they have said, when they were told that the very oath of office was commonly regarded as an idle form, and that a character for Christian faith and virtue was an obstacle, rather than a recommendation to the public favor ? When we reflect upon the marked contrast between the ancient sages, and our modern leaders in the work of im- aginary progress, it seems impossible to justify the applica- tion of the term philosopher to the infidels of our age and country. A man may be distinguished for his attainments in the natural sciences — a master in Physiology, Geology, Astronomy, Magnetism, Entomology, and all the rest — he may even be learned in Archaeology, and write profoundly about the buried monuments of antiquity — and yet not have the slightest mark of a philosopher, in its true sense and meaning. Every scholar knows that this word, first introduced by Pythagoras, signifies a lover of wisdom. Hence, it was never used by the ancients, except to desig- nate that class of thoughtful and exalted intellects, which were occupied in the search after wisdom, as the product of religion and mol-ality. For it is the proper province of wisdom to understand the higher laws of spiritual being ; the moral government of God ; the religious duties of His intelligent subject, man; the maxims of human legislation, as respects the body politic ; and the individual relations to society, by which the virtue, peace, prosperity, and ad- •yancement of the whole community and of each private member can be best secui-ed. These were the main studies 76 nWIDELS NOT PHILOSOPHEBS. [CHAP. IT. of the old philosophers. True, they labored under every disadvantage, in the absence of the only unerring gnidei, divine revelation. True, they differed widely, and erred egregiously, in many of their csnclusions. But they never forgot the proper objects of philosophy. They never lost sight of its true design, in the effort to place the best and loftiest interests of our race upon their real foundationa. Surely, then, such men as Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Zeno, Cicero, and Epictetus, would have laughed with bitter derision at the arrogance of our infidel naturalists, whom the good-natured public indulge with the respectable title of philosophers, as if they could be called, lovers of wis^ dom ! Alas I what lovers of wisdom are they who assail the highest source of wisdom ; who take an insane pleasure in undermining the national religion ; and strive to pros- trate the sublimest hopes of human destiny, and the only principle of law, government, and morals, which can sus- tain the good order of the republic, or secure the most sacred rights and privileges of mankind I CHAPTEE lY. THE KELIGIOUS EIGHTS AND DUTIES OF THE AMEEIOAN CITIZBaT. Having said enough, I trust, to vindicate the ChnstiaB character of our national Constitution, and to prove that on eveiy ground of common sense, reason, legal interpretation, historical fact, and true philosophy, we are obliged to consider it in this religious aspect ; I proceed to examine the " rights and duties of the American citizen," which necessarily arise from this fundamental principle. And in order k<^ OHAP. IV.] RELIGIOUS TOt56EATION. 77 eeCni-e the better method in these suhjeets, I shall place the rights in the first rank, and the duties in the second. For BTich is the proper order in the nature of the case. The Constitution first confers the rights of the citizen, and then claims the performance of his duties. 1. The religious rights of the citizen of the United States consist in the enjoyment of his own conscientious choice, amongst all the forms of oui* common Christianity which were in existence at the time when the Constitution was es- tablished. This must be taken as the full limit of fair and legal presumption, as the two first chapters have sufficiently proved. Therefore I hold it preposterous to suppose that a band of Hindoos could settle in any part of our territories, and claim a right, imder the Constitution, to set up the public worship of Brahma, Vishnu, or Juggernaut. Equally unconstitutional would it be for the Chinese to introduce the worship of Fo or Buddha, in Califo]-nia. Neither could a company of Tui-ks assert a right to establish a Mosque for the religion of Mahomet. But there is one case, namely, that of the Jews, which forms an apparent exception, al- though it is in fact supported by the same legal principle. For, the meaning of the Constitution can only be derived from the reasonable intention of the people of the United States. Their language, religion, customs, laws, and modes of thought were all transplanted from the mother country ; and we are bound to believe that whatever was tolerated publicly in England, was doubtless meant to be protected here. On this gi-ound, there is no question about the con- stitutional right of our Jewish fellow-citizens, whose syna- gogues had long before been established in London. But ^ith this single exception, I can find tio right for the public «Xferdse of any religious faith, under om- great Federal 78 THE JEWS. [chap. IT. Charter, which does not acknowledge the divine authority of the Christian Bible. 2. And here, I take the opportunity to express my own deep veneration towards the posterity of Israel. I cannot forget their high privileges, as the chosen people of God — that to them the oracles of divine truth were committed — that they were appointed to hold the light of heaven, while all the rest were in heathen darkness — that to thera were the inspired prophets sent — that " salvation" in the words of Christ " is of the Jews," since the divine Redeemer Him- self was a Jew according to the flesh, and the Apostles were Jews, and the first Church was gathered in Jerusalem, from which the Gospel was sounded forth, through all the earth — that their history is a series of the most wonderful and sublime manifestations of celestial power which the world has ever witnessed — that their present state, scattered for seventeen centuries over the habitable globe, without home, or country, or government, and yet preserved in their marvellous individuality by the mighty hand of God, is not only an invincible proof of the prophecies, but is a continual miracle — that the highest examples of genius, talent, energy, indomitable perseverance and moral purity have been exhibited amongst them ; and that the time is rapidly approaching when, as I trust, their long period of bitter calamity will cease, and they shall shine forth in more than their ancient glory — when they shall acknowl- edge the divine Messiah whom their fathers pierced, and be gathered into His fold, and Zion shall " rejoice and be glad," and shall " reign as a queen among the nations." Hie honor in which I hold the Jews, therefore, is most genuine and sincere, for it is a part of my religion. Tet I cannot, for all that, change my views of the constitutional CHAP, rv.] MOEMOOTSM EXCLTJDF.D. 79 oath of office, which I have proved at large to be a Chris- tian oath, and therefore an oath vrhich cannot be consis- tently taken by any who deny the Christian faith. I have shown why the practice of England is the safest general guide to the great rule of construction, which must deter- mine our interpretation ; namely, the intention of the jpeo- ple. The Jews had never been admitted to office in the mother country, and we have no ground for supposing that they were intended to be admitted here. They were al- lowed to give evidence, however, and so, on the principle of necessity, were the Turks and heathen.* They were also allowed to establish their synagogues in England, and a few were even existing in the United States, before the Constitution was adopted, whose rights were questioned by no one. Thus far, then, the point may be settled, without difficulty, on the legal basis, so as to bear the test of thor- ough examination. 3. But under this aspect of constitutional construction, there is no allowance for any new invention of religion, un- known to the sovereign people, and which they could not possibly have anticipated. And, therefore, I hold that Mor- monism is entirely excluded from any riglit to the free ex- ercise of its religion, which, though it call itself Christian, rests upon the assumed authority of another Bible, and ar- rogates to itself the power of opposing the universal sense of all the Churches in the world, by the debasing and mon- strous claims of its polygamy. The rise and rapid growth of this alarming evil show clearly the absolute necessity of adopting some definite and legal rule of sound constitutional interpretation ; and that rule, according to the fixed and • See Omiohund vs. Barker, Atkyn's Eep. 80 EPISCOPALIANS. [CHAP. IV. established maxim which seehs for the true meanmg of every law in the reasonable intent of the authority enacting it, protects the country at once from all the invasions of reckless iniidelity, of revolting heathenism, and of every foul and disgusting innovation. 4. There is still, however, a limitation, necessarily in- volved in the constitutional right to the free exercise of re- ligion, even with respect to those Christian Churches which were most evidently intended to be protected and sustained ; and this will be manifest when we consider the positions of the Church of England and the Church of Eome, at the period when our great national charter was established. The Church of England, as is well known, stands con- nected with the State, and the sovereign is invested with a royal supremacy which confers the right of nomination to the sees of the bishops, and of controlling, to a certain ex- tent, the sessions of her House of Convocation. All this, however, being purely a matter of temporal and secular ar- rangement, was justly regarded as having no necessary connection with the doctrines of faith, or the ecclesiastical system of government and discipline, which she inherited from the apostles, and defended on the authority of the word of God ; and hence, when the separation of the colo- nies from the mother country was consummated, and the independence of the tTnited States was acknowledged and confirmed by the treaty of peace with England, it was im- mediately seen that the independence of the American Church must follow. Without delay, therefore, an appli- cation was made, through our minister at the Court of St. James, by the Episcopalians concerned, for the consecra- tion of three bishops, in order to organize the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, without any further ©fiAt. IT.] EOMAITISTS. 81 ■connection with the British government. The request was freely granted, with the consent of Parliament. The indi- Tiduals elected by the joint act of the clergy and the laity, in the three States of Pennsylvania, I^ew York, and Vir- ginia, were consecrated accordingly : and from that time, the Church in this country commenced its independent couree, as a strictly American Church, having no further •relation to her English mother than the respect involved in tlie recollection of her descent, and the mutual affection of Christian fraternity. The Church of Pome was not so favorably situated. The pope was as much a sovereign, and a foreign sovereign, as the monarch of Great Britain. But he was also believed to be the sole vicar upon earth of our Lord Jesus Christ, and as such, he claimed to be the head over all the Churches, and, for religious purposes, overall the nations in the world. This stupendous claim was not allowed by any out of his own communion. It had been proved, over and over again, to be a modern usurpation, perfectly iinknown to the prim- itive Church, for many ages. But, unhappily, it became a fixed article of faith in the Roman Catholic creed, and their priesthood are obliged to pronounce an ecclesiastical anathema or curse, at least once in every year, against the heretics who presume to deny it. Moreover, by the fixed principles of the papal Church, her doctrines are to be re- ceived as infallible, while all Churches which do not submit to her, are cut off, as heretical, and pronounced accursed. Their hope of salvation is believed to be entirely forfeited ■for that sole reason ; and therefore, without subjection to the pope, the Eomanist holds it impossible to be saved through Christ at all. Of course it could nflt be expected that with these prin- 4* 82 EOMAN SUPEEMACY. [CHAP. 17. ciples, maintained as the essential laws of an infallible faith, the position of the Romanists in the United States should be changed by any act of their own, when the Con- stitution was established. Yet it is quite as impossible to suppose that the people who adopted that Constitution could ever have consented to give their approbation, directly or indirectly, to a set of dogmas which nullified the rights and privileges of every other Christian body, and demanded an unconditional submission of the whole to the supremacy of the pope, on pain of certain damnation. It was desira- ble, on the one hand, to give the adherents of Rome all the toleration they had previously enjoyed, and necessary, on the other, that their claims to universal dominion should in no way be prejudicial to the conscientious liberty of the rest. And thus we may perceive another use of the import- ant article, " That Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof:" a rule which I have already shown to be applica- ble to the Establishment of England, but which is obviously quite as applicable to the case of Rome. Here, then, a safeguard is provided against all danger of Roman supremacy. For the papal system can never pre- vail, unless it be through an estahlisTiment of their religion^ a^d a prohibition of the free exercise of any other. The history of the middle ages fully proves that the secular power, bearing on the rights of conscience with the strong hand of persecutio'n, was always the most efi"ectual instru- ment of papal aggrandizement. And therefore, when the Constitution proclaims and guaranties an equal support to all, and forbids the establishment of any, it not only con- demns, by necessary inference, the sweeping claims of that single Church, which demands universal submission at the OHAP. IV.] piFFICDLTIES OF EOMANISTS. 83 peril of salvation, but further, by a fair implication, con- demns tlie curses so formally pronounced upon those virho refuse to obey her. The result is, that the position of our Roman Catholic fello-w-citizens, under the American Constitution, is a per- fect anomaly ; and several important questions are suggest- ed, to which it is by no means easy for a consistent Roman- ist to give a satisfactory reply. 1. Every naturalized foreigner swears to support the Con- stitution, and every native-born citizen is of course under the same obligation. How does the Roman Catholic rec- oncile this oath of allegiance with his religious creed ? By the first, he is sworn to sustain and protect religious tolera- tion. By the second, he is bound to detest it, and pursue the heretic with curses. No opposition can be more com- plete — none more irreconcilable. Which is the stronger obligation ? "Which is the more likely to prevail ? 2. Is it possible that both can stand together? Can ;he same man, at the same moment, be expected to curse what he cherishes, and support what he detests ? 3. The constitutional oath is required by the human gov- ernment, and its breach may be said to involve no more than a human obligation. The religious creed, on the con- trary, is supposed to be required by the authority of God, and its violation is believed to insure the ruin of the soul. Can the conscientious Romanist hesitate a moment, if a con- flict should arise between them ? 4. If either one or the other of those obligations must be broken, on which side lies the remedy for the crime ? The government has no power to abgolve the perjurer from the guilt of irreligion ; but the pope can absolve him, as he believes, frqm the oath Qf his allegiance, and even mak.e ^ 84 DIFFICULTIKS OF EOMAOTSTS. [CHAP. TV, merit of the sin. Where is the equality in the influence of the two ? 5. Is any government safe, which intrusts its powers to its enemies ? And can an intelligent and sincei-e Eomanist be any thing but an enemy to a Constitution which favors heresy, which refuses to establish that Church which is alone governed by the vicar of Jesus Christ, and out of whose pale he believes that there is no salvation ? Can he be any thing but an enemy to the success of heretics, or to the extension of those principles of religious liberty, which he holds to be the instigation of the devil ? 6. Certain it is, however, that the Eoman Catholic pop- ulation of the United States do not choose to examine such questions very thoroughly. I am by no means sure that even the framers of our excellent Constitution took them into consideration ; or, if they did, they probably dismissed them as quite unnecessary, trusting to the happy ignorance and inconsistency of the mass, and believing that it could never be the interest of the Eoman laity, nor even of their priests, to seek any undue share of power, so long as they were surrounded by so large a majority of watchful Prot- estants. And in this they may have been right. But is there any certainty that this Protestant majority will al- ways be found in every State ? Is there no danger that in some of them there will be a strong papal ascendency ? Is it at all unlikely that the increasing loss of papal influence in many parts of Europe will bring to our shores a vast ac- cession of foreign Romanists, which may give a decided preponderance to their religion in the great western valley, and finally enable them to set up their exclusive claims, in all their old intolerance? For it must be remembered that the Constitution only forbids " Congress to make any la^ CSAP. IV.] DIFFICULTIES OF EOMANISTS. 85 for an establishment of religion, or to prohibit the free ex- ercise thereof." The States are perfectly free to do as each may deem proper ; and no State, once admitted, can be pre- vented from altering its own constitution, whenever the majority of its citizens are prepared to approve the change. Can any one wonder if the priesthood of Kome shonld combine together in a well-organized effort to secure those rights, which they believe to have been conferred by the Almighty, and even to be absolutely necessary for the sal- vation of mankind ? Can any one undertake to condemn them, if they are now laboring for this verj' purpose ? Cer- tainly I cannot ; because, if I held their principles, I should consider myself bound to do the same. The danger is not in the men, but in the sj^stem. 7. Repudiating popery, therefore, with all my heart, as a scheme of perilous errors, while, nevertheless, I cherish none but the kindliest feelings towards the vast mass of ■well-meaning persons who are deluded to maintain it, I am compelled to conclude that, under the "Constitution^ no Eomanist can have a right to the free enjoyment of his re- ligion, without a serious inconsistency ; for the papal system demands intolerance and exclusion, and is the declared en- emy to the free exercise of religion, which the Constitution has made one of the supreme laws of the land. These two opposing principles cannot possibly stand together. The Roman Catholic must be inconsistent either with his Church or with the Constitution. If his Church prevail, he cannot be true to the religious freedom of the United States, nor to the political freedom of his heretical fellow- citizens. If his allegiance to the government prevail, he cannot be true to the faith of popery. It is a very painful and trouble- some dilemma. But there it stands, and I see no way in 86 DIFFICULTIES OF E0MANIST8. [CHAP. TV. whicli it can be avoided. For how can he acquire his con- stitutional right except on the condition of being faithful to the principles of the Constitiition ? And how can he be faithful to those principles, except by ignoring, doubting, or positively discarding that part of his religions creed, which curses all heretics, and makes the pope of Rome, as the sole vicar of Jesus Christ, the supreme governor of the world ? And how can he dare to discard, or even to doubt, any part of that creed, when he holds his Church to be infal- lible, and is assured that the least departure from her doc- trine exposes him to be cursed himself, if not here, yet cer- tainly hereafter ? 8. Happily, however, for the peace of mankind, and for the comfort and security of Roman Catholics themselves, especially in a Protestant country like our o"\vn, there is a large amount of political expediency allowed, for the sake of which the most odious and unpopular principles of po- pery are kept as much as possible in the dark, and even boldly denied when it is found to be necessary. The ma- jority of their own most intelligent laity are profoundly ig- norant of much that is familiar to the priests. Their very bishops are permitted to take different sides, on all embar- rassing and troublesome questions. The masses of their people are not even aware of the formal curses pronounced yearly against all heretics, because the bull In ccena Do- mini (which is a part of the service on Maunday Thursday) is repeated in a low voice, and in Latin. Their popular treatises for the public eye are ingeniously prepared, so as to mystify, and sometimes positively repudiate, all their obnoxious doctrines. The oath which every bishop is obliged to take not only binds him to obey the pope, but also to oppose and persecute the heretics to the utmost of his OHAP. IV.] DIFFICU-LTIES OF ROMANISTS. 87 power. But that oath is also in Latin, and belongs to a book of forms to which the laity seldom have access. And the restraints of the confessional are a very effective instru- ment to keep them from learning any thing about such matters, because they are constantly warned to avoid the assemblies of heretics, or to read their writings, or to believe one word which they may utter or publish, upon the Church of Rome ; every thing coming from such a quarter being " Protestant lies" of course, and therefore to be shunned, as the work of Satan. Hence it is undoubtedly true that Ro- manism, as it is praotioally given out to the great majority in the United States, is diluted, spiced, and flavored with consummate skill and pradence, so as to accommodate the republican palate, and effectually disguise the pungent and bitter ingredients in the cup. And therefore we are able to rejoice in the fact, which I, for one, most cheerfully ac- knowledge, that there are many professed Romanists who are perfectly imconscious of the conflict between their Con- stitutional and their religious principles — many who are innocently persuaded that heretics were never cursed nor persecuted by the authority of their Church — many who, if they knew her true history, would regard it with the spirit of a reformer — many, in a word, who honestly prefer their country to the pope, and who are, with regard to all polit- ical intents and purposes, and all social rights and feelings, much better than their system. That the religious principles of such persons are incon- sistent with popery, properly understood, I cannot doubt for a moment. But this inconsistency is the work of their teachers. The only danger to be apprehended from that ttuairter lies in the possibility of the fact, that their in- creasing numbers may give them such preponderance, at 88 ROMAN ANATHEMA.. [cHAP. IT. a future day, as to call for a more tlioro-ngh and very dif- ferent mode of instruction. And if that day should ever arrive, it will soon be made mournfully manifest that there is no real harmony between the claims of the pope, and the Christian liberty of the Constitution. Meanwhile, however, I have no wish to speak of Eoman- ism, further than to notice the discrepancies between it and the law of the land, because I have stated in the preface, that I should not discuss any point of theological contro- versy. My obligations to religious truth I have endeavored to discharge on other occasions ;* but my present work is confined to those questions which properly belong to the sphere of Constitutional rights and duties, and beyond these I have no desire to travel. 9. I shall only add, therefore, in concluding my state- ment of the religious rights of the American citizen, that he has an unquestionable right to enjoy his own free choice, amongst the various Churches and sects which existed at the time when the Constitution was adopted, without heing anathematized hy any priest or people. The Eoman Cath- olic has the same right with every other Christian, to pre- fer his OAvn religion and follow his own creed. But he cati have no legal i-ight to curse all those who may be con- scientiously obliged to differ. His right, like theirs, mu^t be confined within the bounds of fair and equal toleration, which gives the same measure of protection to the whole Christian community. It is true, indeed, that ecclesiastical censures, suspensions, and excommunications belong of ne- cessity to every Church and sect, and all are obliged, in * In the "End of Controversy controverted," "Tlie History of the Confes- sional," " The Church of Eome," and " Lectures on the British Reformation." The first is the most extensive. CHAt; IV.] EOMAN ANATHEMA. 89 some shape, to employ them. The pronouncing of a sol- emn cnrse or anathema, however, according to the papal system, is a very different matter, because it assumes the apostolic prerogative of delivering the denounced party to Satan ; and, wherever the priests of Eome have established their power, it is followed by a large amou.nt of temporal suffering, through the personal hatred which it excites, and the actual prohibition of intercourse or charity. This se- verity is in direct contrariety to the Gospel. St, Paul gives us the precept, " Bless and curse not," and again he di- rects us "not to count the rebellious Christian as an en- emy, but to admonish him as a brother." But, besides this Scriptural rule, it is certainly in plain opposition to the re- ligious freedom which the Constitution secures to every citizen, sect, and Chm-ch, without exception, that any public minister should be allowed to pronounce a solemn curse on men who are in the line of permitted discretion. When the priest utters such a curse, therefore, and holds up the party to the odium and pei'secution of the congregation, by which he sustains an injury in person, property, or charac- ter, it is a grave and important question whether the law of the land would not sustain an action for the wrong, or whether the practice of Rome would be held a legal justi- fication. II. Having thus surveyed the religious rights of the American citizen, I now proceed to consider his duties. And these will suggest themselves naturally, as the reason- able results of the foregoing. 1 . It has been proved that the Constitution of the United States, in requiring the oath of ofiBce and the retention of the common law, has actually based the whole administra- tion of government and justice upon the Christian religion. 90 FIRST EELIGIOUS DUTY. [CHAP. IV. "Without a belief in that religion, neither the oath of alle- giance to the government, nor the oath of office, can be rightly and legally taken. The fii'st religious duty of the citizen, therefore, must be to understand and reverence the Christian faith, to support its claims to respect and confi- dence, and to discourage, by every proper means within his power, the assaults of infidelity, and the acts of profa- nation, which tend to expose it to contempt, and destroy its all-important influence. Of course, as a minister of the Gospel, I hold that this duty rests on a far more high and solemn ground than any earthly obligation, because a sincere and devout faith in the Kedeemer of the world is the only way of acceptance with the Deity, including the forgiveness of sin, the peace of God which passeth understanding, the spiritual influence which converts and purifies the heart, and elevates and sanctifies the whole moral nature ; the kind and gracious government of Providence in all the events of life ; the glo- rious hope which sustains the soul in the hour of dissolu- tion ; and the future inheritance of immortality and happi- ness eternal beyond the grave. But the object of the pres- ent work is rather to display the vast importance of the Christian element to the welfare of all our earthly interests, and the impossibility and philosophical absurdity of any effectual effort to preserve them, without its aid. And therefore I have discussed the question thus far, and shall continue to discuss it to the end, mainly with a view to the secular, legal, and moral aspects of the question. 2. The second religious duty of the American citizen, is to survey the subject of Christianity in the large and com- prehensive spirit of the Constitution; remembering that amongst all the divifiions of religious sentiment existing at CHAP, rv.] THE STUDY OF THE SCEIPTUKES. 91 the time of its adoption, there was only one authority which the whole Christian world reverenced alike as the Word of God, namely, the Bible. In the serious and careful study of that sacred volume, and in no other way so well, can he hope to learn the sublime attributes of the Almighty : His wondrous acts of creation, of preservation, and of personal providence ; His laws of spiritual purity, and truth, and moral benevolence, and equity ; His judgments upon the guilty, whether nations or individuals ; His miraculous dis- plays in connection with each new revelation of His will ; and His divine foreknowledge in the predictions of the pro- phets, the destruction of ISTineveh, Babylon, Tyre, and Je- rusalem, the coming of Christ, His character, doctrines, and sacrificfe for the sins of the world, the establishment of His Chiu'ch, the exile and calamities of the chosen people, the corruptions and tyranny of the great -antichristian power, the final overthrow of wickedness and rebellion at the sec- ond advent of the Kedeemer to judge the earth, and the establishment of His celestial kingdom in perfect bliss and glory. ISTor will the reader of the Bible find it difficult to become familiar with its contents, if he will spend a small portion of each day, together with his leisure on the Sab- baths, in its perusal. And from its pages he will assuredly learn incomparably more of the true principles of life, of virtue, and of happiness, than he can learn from all the world besides. 3. The third religious duty of the American citizen is to compare with the Bible, which all Christians acknowledge, the distinctive systems of the various Churches and sects, until he is satisfied with some one, as being, on the whole, in the best accordance with the Scriptures. The greater truths of Christianity he will find to be professed by all, 92 ATTENDANCE ON PtTBLIC WORSHIP. [CHAP. IT. with little substantial difference. The Church of Rome he will see to he the only one which confines salvation to her own pale. And the claims which Popery advances upon his homage he will soon discover to be not only destitute of all authority in the word of God, but in actual hostility to its testimony. 4. The fourth duty which will i-eadily suggest itself, will be to attend with punctual regularity on the service of the Church which he has selected, since this is the only mbdein which he can openly testify the respect which each citizen owes to the religion of his country, and obey the laws of the State, as all men are bound to do, and keep himself aloof from those temptations which are most numerous and seductive on the Sabbath-da}^, and thus preserve his health of mind and body, and establish his character for prudence and sobriety. 5. True, all this will not make him a Christian, because, thus far, it will only regulate his intellect and his outward habits, and may fail to make a serious impression upon his heart. But it is manifest that he should do thus much, at least, as a duty to his country, if only in the character of a true and faithful citizen. By any other course, he opposed the spirit of the Constitution. For the basis of the goverii- ment and the laws is religion. That religion is Christianity. The qualification for every public ofiice is the Christian oath. The morality which obtains for him the esteem and confidence of society is Christian morality. And the great repository of the whole is in the Bible, while the ministers, and the Churches, and the Sabbath-day, are the essential means of keeping the all-controlling truth, on which every civilized community depends, constantly before the people. Can he be worthy of the name of American citizen who CHAP. rV.] DANGERS OF INFIDELITT. 93 refuses to study, to examine, or to respect the very founda- tion of the government and order of his country ? Is he, in any true sense, a citizen, who habitually acts as an enemy to her most essential and established institutions? Does he, in any way, deserve the honor of a citizen, who lives as if he wished to overthrow the very pillars of public and pri- vate principle ? For let the supposition be made, for a moment, that the Bible were lost, and the Sabbath abolished, and the minis- try expelled, and the Churches pulled down, and all sense of religion utterly done away by universal atheism, and what would be the inevitable consequence but a scene of anarchy, and bloody violence, and utter destruction of all the rights of man in honor, liberty, property, or even life ? A slight specimen of such a result was exhibited, to the horror and amazement of Europe, when the French Directory, through the madness of their first revolution, in 1793, tried the experiment upon the matei-ials which Voltaire, Rousseau, and other infidels of talent had unconsciously prepared for the melancholy catastrophe. Every reader of modern history knows that the Sabbath was changed for a tenth day of public festivity, and the priests were silenced, and the temples of religion closed, and atheism was proclaimed, while a celebrated courtezan was adopted instead of the Deity, and set upon a throne, and adored by the name of the Goddess of Eeason. And during the period when this ten-ible insanity prevailed, what was the condition of the most refined metropolis of Europe? It was a constant scene of the most intense suffering and wretchedness. Eob- hery, mm-ders, and lust prevailed. The foundations of S09iety were overturned. The prisons were crowded by innocent victims charged with incivism by the lowest 94 FEENCH EEVOLUTION. [CHAP. IV. ruffians. The river Seine was filled with dead bodies, often tied together. The guillotine was kept streaming with blood, for the passage of which it became necessary to make an immense aqueduct in the Place St. Antoine. Every rule of law and justice was laughed to scorn, -while the revolutionary tribunals, day by day, sent multitudes to instant death, on the mere presentment of lists handed in by their satellites ! Well was this awful period of atheistic madness and ferocity called The Keign of Teeeoe ! The details of the horrid butcheries, given by Pmdhomme, occupy six volumes, though far from complete. Amongst them we find, at Paris, 1,278 noblemen, 750 noble women, 1,467 females of the middle ranks, 360 nuns, and 1,135 priests. In La Yen dee, 15,000 women, 22,000 children, and 860,000 men of various classes. At ISTantes, under the proconsulate of Carrier, 32,000, including 500 children shot, 1,500 children drowned, 264 -women shot, 500 women drowned, 300 priests shot, 460 priests drowned, 1,400 noble- men drowned, 6,300 mechanics drowned; and to these the historian adds 31,000 victims in Lyons! This is a mere indication of the misery which reigned throughout France, and brought that mighty nation to the verge of destruction, until at length N'apoleon Bonaparte, having seized the reins of power, restored the public service of religion; and" law, security, and order returned once more. It needs but small reflection on the very nature of things, to convince the most thoughtless mind how absolutely every blessing of the present life depends on the religious principle. Even the most corrupt religion is better than none. Such, as I have fully shown, was the universal sense of all the great philosophers of antiquity, who prescribed it to every citizen, in the strongest terms, that he must tender CHAP. IV.] IMPOETAITCE OF EELIGIOUS EXAMPLE. 96 all due and public reverence to the gods, notwithstanding those gods were the idols of heathenism. How mnch more must it be the duty of the American citizen to honor that pure Christianity which is alone authoritative, because it is alone divine ! Hence it follows, undeniably, that the citizen who refuses to pay open and consistent respect to religion, is acting as the worst enemy of the public good. He is the willing patron of a course -which, if it be suffered to prevail, must bring the nation and himself to ruin. He is a breaker of the law of the Sabbath-day, which every State in the Union has established. He is doirfg his utmost, by his encourage- ment and example, to destroy the only principle on which the government and justice of the land can possibly be administered. He is casting mockery upon the friends of conscience and of duty. In a word, he is undermining the very foundation of all order and morality, and laying a train which may ultimately scatter to the winds the honor, welfare, and prosperity of his country. True, it may be said that he does not mean it so. He does not consider that he is bound to look beyond his indi- vidual choice and gratification. He thinks that he has a right to please himself, and cannot see that the public interest has any concern with the question. But in this he errs egregiously. I have already quoted the admirable maxim of Aristotle, that " the citizens are partners in the republic, since otherwise, strictly speaking, they are not cit- izens at alV* ISTo citizen, therefore, can separate himself from the rest, or follow a course which is hostile to the gen- eral welfare, without sinning against his country. The • P. 72. 96 TETJE CONVEESION. [OHAP. TV. interest which he holds in the community is the correlative of the interest which the community hold in him. As a partner, he is bound to act for the benefit of the whole, and if he pursues his personal will in a way which is calculated to bring them into peril, he violates the implied compact which holds society together, and foi-feits his right to be considered a member of the commonvpealth. 6. But he may do all that I have specified — he may render all outward honor to the religion of the land, study the Scriptures with serious attention, select his Church with reference to their inspired authority, and keep the Sabbath- day with punctual reverence, and yet not be a Christian in the spiritual sense. In other words, he may be a Christian intellectually and conscientiously^ yet not be a Christian in his heart. And therefore, if he would be perfectly con- sistent, he should apply the religion of the Bible to his own soul, pray earnestly and perseveringly for the influence of the Holy Spirit, and never cease, until he is a personal par- taker of the inward light and peace which can only be found in a thorough, earnest, and entire adoption of the Gospel system. For however highly he may estimate the rights and duties of the American citizen, yet the time must come when he will feel that they are of little worth, in com- parison with those which he should have realized and appropriated, as the citizen of heaven. CHAP, v.] POLITICS. 97 CHAPTER V. MOEAIITT, A3 THE FOUND ATIOKT OF POLITICS. It is of the very nature of a republic that the science of politics belongs alike to every citizen, because there it is especially true that " all citizens," in the words of Aristotle, " obey and govern by turns, and are therefore participators in the republic, each in his own lot."* And it is the noblest and most extensive of all human sciences, because it embra- ces the whole scope of government, law, and moral action. In its lower sense, however, politics may be considered as an art ; and here it is unavoidably open to great abuses, since it is always liable to be degraded from its high and comprehensive function, to the maintenance of individual ambition or cupidity, of factious and disorganizing schemes, and of a naiTOW party spirit. But, just as the true basis of morality is religion, so the tioie basis of politics, considered as a science, is morality. Therefore Aristotle laid down the maxim, that " a treatise on morals is a principal part of politics."f And here, it may be both useful and interesting to trace the principles of morality, as they were exhibited by the better class of the ancient philosophers ; in which there is no surer guide than the celebrated Cicero's work De Officiis, addressed to his own son, while he was completing his education at Athens. I say " the better class" of the old philosophers, because Cicero himself admits that there were only three of the ancient schools which had a right to lay down any ■•Arjstot. De Eepub. 1. vii. o. xiv. p. 266, &a. + Aristot. Ethic, c. i. t. S, p. 85. 5 98 CICBEO, ON THE BASIS OF DUTT. [CHAP. V. rales on the subject of morality, namely, the Stoics, who fol- lowed Zeno ; the Academics, whose founder was Plato ; and the Peripatetics, whose oracle was Aristotle. All the rest he repudiates, taking Panaetius, the Stoic, for his principal director, but supplying the defects of that philosopher from his own superior stores of wisdom and reflection. It is not my object, however, to translate this author, for that has been already done by others ; and neither the limits norths design of my present work would justify the labor. The substance only of his order and his statements will be given, as equally useful and less tedious to my readers, while a brief title will indicate the special topic of each section. 1. Cicero, on the Basis of Social Duty. First stands the rule, that we must consider what is good, and what is for our greatest good. For this is the main principle which determines our duty. And all the moral philosophers have wi'itten most largely about offices or du- ties, because the whole virtue and credit of our lives depend on these, and all the baseness or turpitude of mankind arises from their violation. Every action may be regarded with respect to this funda mental rule, and we are obliged to determine, accordingly, 1. "Whether it be right, or the contrary ; 2. "Whether it will obtain for us pleasures, riches, honors, or power, which may be used for the benefit of others, as well as of ourselves ; 3. "Whether what is right stands opposed to what is profit- able, and which we should prefer. 2. Cicero, on Virtue, as the highest Good. The primary law of all creatures is shown in their instinot CHAT, v.] CICEEO, ON THE VIETtlES. 99 of self-preservation, the avoidance of what hurts them, the securing what is necessary for their comfortable subsistence, the desire to propagate their species, and the care and affec- tion which they exhibit towards their young. But man, in addition to these, has the faculty of reason, by which he can exten'd his thoughts to the consequences of his actions. Moreover, he is formed for society, and can feel for all his fellow-creatures. He is, further, impelled to seek for knowl- edge and for tnith. He is also led to a longing for pre- eminence. He discerns the beauty of order and harmony. He is impressed by grace and symmetry in the objects of sight. In fine, he is endowed with a moral conscience. Hence he possesses a sense of right or vi/rhie, as the highest good ; and this is not only, in its own nature, commendable above all things, but is, in effect, acknowledged and praised by all mankind. 3. Cioero, on the Siibdivisions of Virtue. But this virtue may be subdivided into many distinct heads or subjects of examination. First, we may consider the duty of seeking the truth, which is called Prudence. Next comes the duty of maintaining the interests of society, of rendering to every man his due, and of fidelity to our word in all engagements, which is called Justice. Thirdly, the duty of a brave and invincible mind in the defence of right, which is embraced by the terms Fortitude and Cowr- age. And lastly, the duty of keeping our words and actions within the proper limits of order and decency, which is commonly termed Temperance., or Moderation. All these duties are of such high esteem that they are called virtues ; and the ideal of perfect virtue includes the whole. Let us ednsider each distinctly. 100 CICEKO, ON PEUDENCE. [CHAP. V. i. Cicero, on Prudence, as a Ca/rdinal Virtue. The first-named virtue, Petidence, is wholly occupied with the knowledge of truth, and belongs peculiarly to our reasonable nature. For we are all influenced by the desire of knowledge. We account it reproachful and degrading to be subject to imposition, or to be detected in ignorance or error. We look xip with respect and reverence to those who are qualified to teach us. We look down with pity or contempt on those who are less intelligent than ourselves, and regard them as children in comparison. But in our efforts to attain knowledge, we must guard ourselves against a great and common cause of failure : namely, a credulous haste and rashness in giving our assent, presuming that we really know, before we have sufficiently examined. To avoid this, we must employ a fair amount of time and labor, and carefully look at both sides of every question, before we decide. And there is yet another frequent error, when we devote an unwise amount of pains and study to subjects which are of very small importance in themselves, to the neglect of the more serious duties of life. For no man can attain an equal knowledge in every department. Prudence requires, therefore, that he should carefully consider the relation of each to his own position in society, remember- ing always that it is action alone which gives true value to virtue. 5. Cicero, on Justice. The next topic, according to oui- order, is Justice. And it is this which is mainly concerned in upholding society, and regulating the intercourse amongst mankind on which society depends. Hence it is accounted the most glorious of all the virtues, and that which chiefly entitles us to the CHAP, v.] CICEEO, 0;N JUSTICE. 101 appellation of good men. In connection with it, however, we may class liberality and benevolence, without which, the proper ornament of justice is wanting. ' It is true, in- deed, that every one has a right to enjoy his own, and he cannot be deprived of it, by force or fraud, unless justice be violated. But nevertheless, as Plato saith, "We are not born for ourselves alone, since onr country, our relatives, and onr friends, have a just claim npon ns." According to the Stoics, too, it is unquestionable that " whatever exists on earth was designed for the service of men, and men themselves were intended for the sei-vice, the good, and the assistance of each other." Therefore we must follow nature, and second her intentions by supporting the general interest of all, by mutually giving and receiving benefits, and by such applications of our knowledge, industry, riches, and influence, as may best maintain the loving and affectionate temper of society. The great foundation of justice, how- ever, is fidelity- — ^a firm adherence to our engagements, and a conscientious performance of all compacts and agree- ments. The opposite of this is injustice, which may be either positive or negative. The first, or positive injustice, consists in doing some actual injury to another. The sec- ond, or negative injustice, lies in our tamely suffering in- justice to be done, without any effort to prevent it, even though it may be in our power. Both of these may arise from a selfish fear of evil consequences to ourselves. The latter may also arise from an equally selfish apathy. But generally, the first sort of injustice is the product of some irregular or exorbitant appetite, as the ambition of power, or the covetous desire of riches ; while the other proceeds from the dread of giving offence, and so creating enmity : though it is likewise true that some men are chargeable 102 CICEEO, ON JUSTICE. [OHAiP. rv. with it merely because they are indolent, or mean-spirited, or so much absorbed in their own afi'airs that they will not take time to interfere for the protection of their neighbor. It is, indeed, the sentiment of Plato that philosophers are just, even when they neglect those things for which others are contending ; since they are wholly occupied in search- ing after truth, and disdain the ordinary disputes of those around them. But this conclusion is not to be approved, since philosophers ought not to be so engaged in their learning and studies, as to abandon their friends when they need their succor. And still less can those persons be de- fended who refuse to aid the oppressed from a morose and unsympathizing disposition, on the plea that they meddle with nobody's business but their own. For although such men do no injustice, in one respect, yet they are guilty of it in another, because they desert the common good of so- ciety, and give neither time, nor pains, nor money for its preservation. Here, however, the limits of justice are not so fixed tliat they cannot be altered by circumstances. There may be a contract or promise, for example, which ought to be broken, because the keeping of it would be more hurtful than the breach, either to both the parties or to the public, or be- cause it was made under the influence of fraud or force, witliout any real right to exact the obligation. On this principle, the promise or oath given to robbers, that if their victim be allowed to depart he will not accuse them, is not binding — inasmuch as they could not justly claim the fulfil- ment of a pledge which their own injustice had demanded. But the just rules of morality approve the conduct of Reg- ulus, when he refused to violate his oath to surrender him- self to the Carthaginians, if the Eomans should decide oa OHAP. v.] CICBEO, ON FOETITUDK. 103 rejecting the proposals of peace ; because the Carthaginians had already a right to kill him, as a public enemy, by the laws of war ; and therefore they had a right to place their own conditions on his embassy when they sent him as their envoy to the Eomans : and still farther, because his heroic example of conscientious integrity, in the face of a horrid death, was the noblest sacrifice which he could possibly make to the honor of his country. And there is also a limit dictated by justice, to bounty or liberality. For it must not be exercised to the injury of others, nor beyond the bound of our estates, nor without observing a judicious discrimination between the various merits of its objects. And these are not the only rules. Thus gifts made by princes, when they plunder from one what they bestow upon another — gifts which are the mere product of pride and ostentation — 'gifts presented in the ex- pectation of an ample return — gifts lavished upon those who do not need them — these are all likewise to be con- demned, as no true examples of a just liberality. 6. Oioero, on Fortitude. "We come next to Foetitude, a virtue which includes con- stancy of mind, bravery, and courage. Of these, the last- named has always been a special favorite amongst the mul- titude. But courage is only praiseworthy, when it is em- ployed for the safety and good of our country. The really brave man must always be the friend of truth, benevolence, and justice. And courage is often as necessary in peace as in war, and requires besides, when it is used in the administra- tion of government, far more study, pains, and application. True fortitude, therefore, demands, on the part of those who are concerned in government, a resolute and unyield- 106 CICERO, ON PEOPEIETT. [OHAP. V. dition. All men cannot plead at the bar, or play the ora- tor before the people, or lead an army, or guide the State. But all may practise justice, fidelity, modesty, temperance, and liberality, and thus conti-ibute their share to the general good. 8. Cicero^ on various maxims of Social Duty and Propriety. The young should reverence the aged, and be guided by their counsels ; they should also be inured to labor of mind and body, so as to bear the toils of business, and serve their country either in peace or war ; while their pleasures should never exceed the bounds of propriety and moderation. The aged should lessen the labors of the body, and give themselves chiefly to those of the mind ; advising the young, aiding the republic, and avoiding unprofitable idleness. Luxury and riot are unbecoming at every period of life, but in old age, they are scandalous. Magistrates, in their persons, represent the commonwealth, and are bound to maintain its dignity and credit, as men in public trust. But strangers and sojourners should confine themselves to their own affairs, and not intermeddle with the business of the State, in which they have no allotted duty. In a word, propriety and decorum should govern in every thing. AU that may oifend the eye or the ear should be avoided. Whether standing, or walking, or sitting, or leaning — nay, in our very countenances, in the cast of our eyes, and the motions of our hands, we should be careful to observe what is becoming ; avoiding too much niceness and eifeminacy on the one hand, and awkwardness or vulgarity on the other. Men should be especially careful not to use what is appropriate to women, and women should shun what properly belongs to men. And in ordinary discoTorse we <3HAP. v.] CICEEO, ON PIETY. 107 should never abuse those who are absent, nor invade the rights or feelings of the company, but always be content with our own share of attention, and say only what is likely to be entertaining and acceptable. Our dwellings, furniture, and tables should be, in like manner, suited to our station and our means, but always in moderation, so that men may have no occasion to find fault either with our needless display, or with our parsimony. We should observe the mistakes of others for the purpose -of correcting ourselves. And when we are in doubt, we should ask the advice of those who have learning and ex- perience, just as artists and sculptors are ready to improve theii' work by the taste and judgment of their friends. 9. Cicero^ on Pisty^ asfivst in the order of Duty. Society is the proper condition of man, who can never be long satisfied with perfect solitude. But our duties in society have a certain order. Reverence for religion stands in the first rank. Next comes our duty to our country ; thirdly, oui* duty to our parents ; and so on, to all the rest. Some persons make a wide distinction between profit and virtue. But this is a great error, because nothing that is not virtuous can be truly profitable. The means to pro- cure the favor of heaven is to lead a holy and religious life, And, next to heaven, men conti'ibute most to the happiness of each other. In like manner, all the calamities produced by famines, pestilences, earthquakes, inundations, and the other natural troubles of mortality, are as nothing in com- parison with the miseries produced by men themselves, in wars, sedition?, ftud strifes, thi-ough the indulgence of cu- pidity, 106 CIOEEO, ON PEOPEIETT. [OHAP. V. dition. All men cannot plead at the bar, or play the ora- tor before the people, or lead an army, or guide the State. But all may practise justice, fidelity, modesty, temperance, and liberality, and thus contribute their share to the general good. 8. Cicero^ on various maxims of Social Duty and Propriety. The young should reverence the aged, and be guided by their counsels ; they should also be inured to labor of mind and body, so as to bear the toils of business, and serve their country either in peace or war ; while theii- pleasures should never exceed the bounds of propriety and moderation. The aged should lessen the labors of the body, and give themselves chiefly to those of the mind ; advising the young, aiding the republic, and avoiding unprofitable idleness. Luxury and riot are unbecoming at every period of life, but in old age, they are scandalous. Magistrates, in their persons, represent the commonwealth, and are bound to maintain its dignity and credit, as men in public trust. But strangers and sojourners should confine themselves to their own aifairs, and not intermeddle with the business of the State, in which they have no allotted duty. In a word, propriety and decorum should govern in every thing. AH that may oflTend the eye or the ear should be avoided. Whether standing, or walking, or sitting, or leaning — nay, in our very countenances, in the cast of our eyes, and the motions of our hands, we should be careful to observe what is becoming ; avoiding too much niceness and effeminacy on the one hand, and awkwardness or vulgarity on the other. Men should be especially careful not to use what is appropriate to women, and women should shun what propei-ly belongs to men. And in ordinary discourse we <3HAP. v.] CICEEO, ON PIETY. 107 should never abuse those who are absent, nor invade the rights or feelings of the company, but always be content with our own share of attention, and say only what is likely to be entertaining and acceptable. Our dwellings, furniture, and tables should be, in like manner, suited to our station and our means, but always in moderation, so that men may have no occasion to find fault either with our needless display, or with our parsimony. "We should observe the mistakes of others for the purpose of correcting ourselves. And when we are in doubt, we should ask the advice of those who have learning and ex- perience, just as artists and sculptors are ready to improve their work by the taste and judgment of their friends. 9. Cicero^ on Piely, as first in the order of Duty. Society is the proper condition of man, who can never be long satisfied with perfect solitude. But our duties in society have a certain order. Reverence for religion stands in the first rank. Next comes our duty to our country ; thirdly, om* duty to our parents ; and so on, to all the rest. Some persons make a wide distinction between profit and virtue. But this is a great error, because nothing that is not virtuous can be truly profitable. The means to pro- cure the favor of heaven is to lead a holy and religious life, And, next to heaven, men contiibute most to the happiness of each other. In like manner, all the calamities produced by famines, pestilences, earthquakes, inundations, and the other natural troubles of moi'tality, are as nothing in com- parison with the miseries produced by men themselves, in ware, seditions, and strifes, thi-ough the indulgence of cu- pidity, 108 CICEEO, ON LOVE. [CHAP. T. 10. Cioero, on Love, as the strongest Prinovple of Infiumee: Of all tlie methods wliicli advance our interest, there is none so effective as love, and none so improper as fear. The most successful tyrants live in perpetual apprehension. Thus Dionysius of Syracuse chose to singe off his beard with coals, sooner than trust his throat to the harber. And Alexander the Phersean dreaded even to visit the chamber of his wife, without an armed Thracian, holding a drawn sword, to go before him. The Eoman republic has sunk into ruin, since her rulers have endeavored to govern by fear, rather than by affection. For, true glory consists in these three ingredients : 1st. The love and good-will of the people ; 2d. Their trust and confidence in the man ; and 3d. Their estimate and admiration of his character as being worthy of his honors. The means of acquiring these fi'om the public are the same which must be used to secure them from individuals, because the opinions of individuals make up, sooner or later, the judgment of the nation. Hence, the love of the people is chiefly to be gained by bounty and kindness. They are pleased with every word and act which prove the desire to do them good, even when a man may not have the means to efiTect it. And the very name of liberality, beneficence, fidelity, and justice, united with those qualities which give a pleasing smoothness to our con- versation, is of great efficacy. For all men love those in M'hom they suppose these virtues to reside ; while, without them, no wisdom, talents, or energy can secure their confi- dence and affection. But those persons are quite in error who think that these tZ-vT""" ^^ "^'T^^' '° "^ *° P^«« «"rrent. On the con- t'a.3^, the multitude can never be long deceived ; andther^ CHAP, v.] CICEEO, ON AVAEICE. . 109 fore the man must actually be what he would appear, or he cannot be successful. Of those who give largely, some are prodigal, and others are liberal. The prodigal consume vast sums in public feasts, in building theatres, and in getting up other sports and recreations for the people. But such things are soon forgotten. The liberal are those who do good, redeeming poor prisoners, helping men out of debt, and assisting them, in various ways, to make or increase their fortunes. To these, also, may be added works of public utility, such as repairing the defences of the cit}^, constructing public aque- ducts, docks, or havens, the memory of which will last and go down to posterity. And as it is laudable to be generous in giving, so we ought not to be too rigorous in demanding, but in every transaction of buying, selling, leasing, and hiring, we should conduct ourselves with fairness and kind- ness, and be willing even to yield our just rights, on certain occasions, in order to avoid contention. Hospitality, too, is another form of the same virtue, which goes far, when it is practised without pride or ostentation. And in all our acts of liberality, we should remember that it is better to serve the deserving than the great — the poor and honest man, rather than the rich or noble. 11. Cicero, on the Dangers of Avarice. In every variety of business, however, especially if it be of a public nature, nothing is more necessary than to keep ourselves untainted by the suspicion of avarice. It was a well-known saying of Gains the Samnite, that " when the Eomans begin to take bribes, there will soon be an end of their flourishing empire." The old Eomans were per- fectly free from this shameful imputation. Of all the vices, 110 CICEEO, ON NATIONAL CHAKACTEE. [OHAP. V. there is none more detestable than avarice, but it is em- phatically so in those who bear rule in the government of the State, since it is not only mean and abominable, but even impious, to make a prey of the commonwealth, which has advanced us to honor under the express obligation to labor for the public good. The famous oracle of the Pyth- ian Apollo which declared that " nothing but avarice could be the ruin of Sparta," seems to have been intended not merely for the Lacedaemonians, but for_ every wealthy and prosperous nation. No accusation, therefore, should be more carefully avoided, since none can be more fatal to the love and confidence of the people. 12. Cioero, on National Character. The virtue of justice, which is so essential to the charac- ter of the individual, is yet more essential to the character of a nation. Hence no government should ever allow debts to be repudiated ; for faith or credit holds all society to- gether, and this can never be sustained unless men are un- der some necessity of paying what they owe. Every man should believe that what is right is always profitable, and that his own interest in particular is the same as that of the community in general ; since otherwise, he violates the order of that society which heaven has estab- lished. If it were possible, therefore, to hide our actions from the eyes of all others, and even from the divine in- spection itself, yet we should be careful to abstain from the vices of covetousness and injustice, of lasciviousness and incontinency. 13. Cicero., on the True Unity of Interest and Virtue. It is a good saying of Chrysippus, that " he who is run- CHAP, v.] OICEEO, ON POLITICAL INTEGEITT. Ill ning a race ought to strive as much as he can to get before his competitor, but he must not trip up his heels, nor thrust him aside with his hands. So, in life, it is allowable that every one should gaiif what is useful and convenient for Ms comfortable subsistence, but it is not allowable to take it from other people." There is one short and easy rule which may be applicable in most cases : viz., never to pre- fer what seems to be profitable, such as honor, riches, or pleasure, before a kindness to a friend ; but never to do any thing, even for the sake of a friend, which is an injury to the public, or a breach of our oath, or other solemn en- gagement ; since it is impossible that he who acts thus can ever be a good man. Those who violate the rules of justice and honesty in the pursuit of political power, are altogether reprehensible. Euripides, indeed, in his tragedy of Phcenissse, saith, ' ' If ever we do break the rules of right, 'Tis when a kiDgdom is the glorious prize. In all things else lie just." But this is wicked and detestable, for nothing can be worse than to obtain the responsible dignity of government, by the use of unworthy and unlawful means. In fine, can any thing be profitable which is inconsistent with justice, continence, temperance, and moderation ? Cer- tain philosophers, indeed, and chiefly Epicurus, reduce all good to pleasure. But pleasure is usually contrary to vir- tue, and virtue disdains the conjunction with pleasure ; for although we should allow that pleasure may serve for a kind of sauce to give a relish to duty, yet it has no true profit or advantage in itself. I have now given to my readers the substance of Cicero's 112 QITALIFICATIONS OF CIOEEO. [CHAP. V. famous treatise, in which we have the results of the wisdom of the ancients, aided by his personal experience, and com- bining the philosophy of the Stoics with his own. And here it may be well to mark his peculiar claims, to be con- sidered a standard of authority. 1. In the first place, Cicero possessed the largest quali- fications of talents, education, official eminence, and exten- sive knowledge of mankind, which were ever recognized in any writer on the subject. He was consul in the last pe- riod of the old Eoman republic, and beheld its liberties expire. His own administration, both civil and military, was conducted with great ability and vigor, united to un- questionable integritj'. And when, in the intervals of public duty, he devoted himself to his favorite philosophical stud- ies, he brought to the task the whole wealth of practical familiarity with government, law, popular eloquence, and human character in all its phases ; which enabled his extra- ordinary intellectual powers to form the soundest judgment, and entitled him to the honor which he has received, from eighteen centuries of universal applause. In Cicero, therefore, we have a remarkable combination. For he was at once the prince of Roman orators, the con- sistent republican, the practical politician, the brave gen- eral, the incorruptible patriot, the successful governor, the acknowledged savior of his country from the conspiracy of Catiline, the profound moral philosopher, and at last, the mai'tyr of expiring liberty. His work D& Officiis, from which I have Culled all the more important principles, is perhaps the most valuable of his numerous writings, and has earned the praise of being, " to this day, the finest trea- tise on virtue inspired by jDure human wisdom."* * See Art. Cicero, Eneye. Americana. CHAP, v.] EUMMAET OF HIS D0CTEINE3. 113 ' For these reasons, I have attached so much importance to the sentiments of this distinguished Eoman. His death, at the age of sixty-four, took place forty-three years before the Christian era ; and it is certainly wonderful to iiiid the general accordance of his principles with the morality of the Gospel, and its singular adaptation to our own times ; when we remember that he lived nineteen centuries ago, and in the religious darkness of heathenism. 2. "We may observe, in the second place, that this admi- rable philosopher rested the whole science of politics on religion, morality, and intelligence ; without which he held it impossible that any citizen could be worthy of public ^ honor, or could long retain his hold upon the respect or confidence of the people. Prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance, accompanied by courtesy, liberality, and dis- interestedness, were in his view the only qualities which could acquire a genuine and enduring hold upon the pop- ular esteem ; and without these, no conceivable amount of address, energy, or talent, could establish a truly desirable and lasting reputation. 3. In the third place, we must look at the principle which Cicero lays down so plainly, that these virtues could not be successfully assumed as a mask to deceive the public penetration. The true character of every man was sure to be generally understood at last, and no art could long deceive the watchful eye of the people. Hence the poli- tician must actually he what he woizld ajopear, since other- wise his efforts to obtain the credit of a patriot must be ultimately abortive. 4. For, this experienced and philosophic statesman utterly abjures the popular fallacy that the private character of a man may be immoral and degrading, while his public 114 SUPKKIOE CI-AIMS OF SCEIPTUKE. [cHAP. V. character shall be pure and exemplary. It may seem so for a little while, during the first novelty of his official position. But custom soon destroys the feeble restraint, and nat\n-e and habit prove too strong for any disguise of out- ward expediency. 5. And fifthly, we may remark, that Cicero ascribes the ruin of the Koman republic to the moral degeneracy of the citizens, and particularly specifies avarice, producing bribery and corruption, as the vice which most of all brought the commonwealth to destruction. Now in all of this, it would be easy to show that the Christian Scriptures aboimd in similar lessons of political wisdom. But the authority on which they are placed is infinitely more exalted, because every act, word, and even thought, is there shown to be brought under the cognizance of the Almighty ; and the argument for virtue is raised from earth to heaven, from the doubtful reward of popular praise to the unerring judgment of eternity. And I know of nothing which tends more strongly to shame' the irreligious recklessness of our own age, than to see how wonderfully the Bible is vindicated by the maxims of true philosophy, enjoining the same virtues of piety, prudence, justice, forti- tude, temperance, chastity, liberality, and benevolence, as essential to the true patriot and politician ; and condemn- ing the same vices of impiety, licentiousness, deceit, false- hood, covetousness, venality, bribery, and corruption, as fatal to the individual man, and no less fatal to the public wel- fare. For thus we are obliged to acknowledge that the morality of the Gospel is approved by the brightest intel- lects amongst the heathen themselves ; and that he who refuses to adopt it is condemned not only by the law of faith, but by the plain maxims of right reason. CHAP, v.] POLITICAL EIGHTS. 115 But let US now proceed to examine the rights and duties of the American citizen, which are thus directly suggested by the principles both of religion and philosophy. It is his right, as " a partner in the republic," to express his honest convictions, in word or writing, concerning every candidate for office, and every political measure contem- plated or adopted by those who are in possession of the legislative or executive function. And this liberty of speech :and of the press, guarantied in express terms by the Consti- tution, should never be discouraged nor put down by the fear of party, the threats of violence, or the clamor of public prejudice ; because it is vitally essential to the maintenance of political integrity, and, therefore, the man who assails its just and proper exercise should be universally regarded as a traitor in his heart to the freedom of his country. It is a further right of the American citizen to form or join a party of his fellow-citizens, who judge alike of the public interest, and to consult with them in any lawful manner, as to the best modes of giving full effect to what they honestly believe most advantageous to the general welfare. For no man, in matters of a political character, can do any thing alone. Parties, indeed, are the necessary incidents of freedom.' The desired results can only be accomplished by numbers, and numbers must be allowed to unite, in order that they may think, deliberate, and act together. But the exercise of this right must not be suffered to invade the other. For, as every citizen has a right to think and speak his sentiments with the honest sincerity which, becomes a freeman, and has also a right to form or join a party consisting of such as are like-minded with himself, so likewise he has a third right, arising directly from these 116 FIEST POLITICAI. DIJTT. [CHAP. V. .two, namely, the right to leave his party, when he thinks that they are going wrong, or to form a new one, if none of the existing parties accord with his honest convictions of public duty. And all these rights he should be allowed to exercise, without the slightest attempt to intimidate or coerce him. For just as he who can be so intimidated or coerced, has so far lost his personal liberty, even so he who seeks, directly or indirectly, to take that liberty away, shows himself to be a despot in his heart, and an enemy to the most essential rule of rejjublican equality. From the rights with which every intelligent citizen is thus invested, I jaroceed to his duties. For these should never be separated, being always, and in every case, correl- atives of each other. In the first place, then, it is his duty to 'be such a citizen as the welfare of his country requires, since otherwise, he disqualifies himself for the proper exercise of his rights as " a partner of the republic." I have shown that the public welfare and prosperity are founded upon religion, morality, and intelligence ; that the maxims of the best political phi- losophers, even among the heathen, require prudence, jiis- tice, fortitude, temperance, disinterestedness, liberality, and benevolence, from every citizen, and that the contrary vices tend to drive the country into ultimate ruin. Hence the first duty of political life is a moral duty, operating on each member of the republic. Every voter is bound to be faith- ful, in his own person, to the virtue which he expects from the public candidate. For in a government like ours, there is no difference between the personal relations of the several parties to the welfare of the whole. The people are sove- reign. The public ofiicers are their servants. They are appointed by election. But the electors have no right to OHAP. v.] SECOND FOLmCAL DDTr. 117 ask that their servants shall be better than themselves. They may, indeed, demand of them a higher capacity for the public functions of the State, because tliat is a fair and just ground of choice or preference, and in that there must needs be a great variety. In moral prvndple, however, all men are capable of attaining a certain mark of reasonable consistency, and no one has a right to find fault with another, whose virtue is equal to his own. It is, secondly, the duty of the American citizen to sup- port such candidates as have an established moral character, based, as all true moral character must be, on a genuine reverence for the religion and laws of the cou^tr3^ For I have shown that the oath of office is a religious obligation, resting, for its whole force, on a religious conscience, with- out which such oath can have no moral force or power on the individual. No talents, no party zeal, no popular availability, should be taken as a substitute for this. And every man understands its value, in the private relations of life. The first quality which we all demand in a servant, in a clerk, in a teacher, in an agent, or in any. other ofiice belonging to the various interests of our social state, is con- scientious honesty and fidelity. What right have we to dispense with this when we select our public servants, our rulers, our magistrates, or our legislators ? Is a moral con- science to be required for the faithful fulfilment of every individual trust, and shall it not be much more required for those far higher trusts, which involve the interest of thou- sands ? In the third place, and as a necessary consequence of the rule just stated, it is the duty of the American citizen to cast aside the false and most pernicious maxim that the frwate character of a candidate for ofiBce has nothing to 118 POLinOAL INTELLIGENCE. [OHAP. T. do with Ilis puUio character. This is in truth a most absnrd fallacy. For it is manifest that the possession of a public office cannot change the man. It only gives him a new field for the display of his principles, whatever they may be, and therefore, if he be a vicious or immoral man, it is impossible that he should prove to be a virtuous or a moral officer. We have seen that, by the theory of our government, the people are the sovereign power, and every citizen is a part- ner in the republic. From this, therefore, I deduce the fourth duty of every American citizen, to make himself fa- miliar with the Constitution of his country, so as to com- prehend, in some reasonable degree, its true national char- acter ; since, without some clear knowledge of this, he must be incapable of imderstanding the questions which may be determined by his vote, or of judging, for himself, the soundness of the views presented by contending parties. Hence it is evident that our system demands a certain measure of intelligence, as well as virtue, in the great body of the people, if they would not be continually led astray by the arts of designing demagogues. For, no one who is altogether ignorant of the distinctive principles of om- na- tional system, can exercise his elective franchise as he ought to do. His want of intelligence makes him, of ne- cessity, the blind tool of other men's dictation. He fancies himself a freeman, while he is, in reality, a slave. Nor can he be worthy to act as a partner in the republic, who is incapable or unwilling to inform himself concerning the high and important interests, on which the welfare and even the very existence of the republic essentially depend. It is undeniable, however, that we have a vast amount of this deplorable ignorance throughout the country. There CHAP, v.] mSTEirCTION NECESSAET. 119 are, probably, millions of men, invested with the rights of citizens, who have never given a single day to the study of the Constitution, to say nothing of those who are too igno- rant to understand its meaning, or even to read its lan- guage. It is evident that, under this condition of things, it is impossible that our republican theory can be red^iced to practice. The power of voting is vested in the multi- tude, but the power of governing the votes is really exer- cised by a comparative few. Hence, the democratic ele- ment, of which we boast, sinks into an oligarchy of the worst kind, because it is altogether irresponsible. And the destiny of our country, in the eyes of sober reason, can hardly be anticipated as prosperous or successful, unless some adequate remedy can be devised and adopted for this serious and increasing evil. For this dangerous state of prevailing ignorance of what every citizen is bound to know, two correctives may be suggested, the iirst of which concerns our native citizens, and the second applies to for- eigners seeking for the right of naturalization. In order, therefore, to secure a proper measure of intel- ligence amongst our native citizens, I would earnestly in- sist upon a course of instruction upon the history and prin- ciples of the Constitution, in all our public schools, acade- mies, and colleges. Our legislatures should assign the oflSce of teacher in this department, to men of competent ability, with a salary of sufficient amount to make it hon- orable. A catechism on the true theory of our government should be prepared by public authority, and no one should be admitted to the privilege of a voter, without exhibiting a certificate from the teacher, that he had acquired a fair knowledge of the meaning of our great national system, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, at which 120 INSTEUCTION OF F0EEIGNEE8. [CHAP. TI. time the mind is usually matui-e enougli to understand the subject. In this way a reasonable measure of intelligence may easily be secured to the rising generation, for the ful- filment of their obligations as citizens. And the result could hardly fail to produce an immense improvement in every department of the public interest. The same principle should be applied to every foreigner, who seeks the benefit of naturalization. . He should be ex- amined in the book of instruction prepai'ed for the native citizen, and if he cannot prove his proficiency in that, he should be rejected as deficient in the intelligence which is demanded by the theory of our republic. This simple rem- edy would purge the elective franchise, in the course of a few 3'ears, of many evils which now disgrace our elections. It would elevate the character and influence of our great nation in the judgment of the world. It would make the people capable of performing the serious duties which the genius of om- Constitution requires ; and the sophistry of party spirit, the arts of the unscrupulous demagogue, and the foul corruption of bribery, would no longer dare to tamper with the sacred trust of American freedom, without meeting at once with the indignant execration which they deserve. CHAPTEE YI. ON THE CONSTTTtTTIONAL EIGHTS AND DUTIES OF THE AMEEICAN CITIZEN IN EEFEEENCE TO SLAVERY. Having proved sufficiently, as I trust, that morals must be founded on religion, and that politics, in the only true sense, must be based upon morals, I should willingly leave CHAP. VI.] SLAVERY, AN EVIL. 121 ■witliout remark the vexed subjects of our day and country, if I were not convinced that it is a duty to contribute my share, however humble, towards the establishment of true practical principle. As a Christian teacher, I am not at liberty to pass over those errors which strike directly at the authority of the Word of God. And as a citizen, and there- fore a " partner in the republic," I may not turn aside from the application of truth to that perilous topic of discussion, which threatens the Constitution itself, and, if not set at rest, may ultimately sink our national greatness into ruin. In bespeaking, however, the favorable attention of my readers to the ensuing argument, I beg leave to premise that I have at least one ground on which I may claim their coniidence in my sincerity and candor : namely, that my conclusions stand in direct opposition to my former preju- dices, habits, and feelings. I have no reason to hope that they will be acceptable to those whose good opinion I should most desire to secure. Their maintenance can bring me no accession of comfort, of advantage, or of commenda- tion from society around me. But I have not been accus- tomed to measure the standard of duty by the rules of pop- ularity or worldly interest. I am too old to be drawn away from my independent regard for truth, by the fear or the hope of personal consequences. And I declare my con- victions, therefore, with no other motive or desire than to discharge honestly my own moral obligation ; and to aid the judgment of impartial and reflecting men, in determin- ing the real merits of a deeply exciting and important question. That slavery, considered in itself, is an evil, I consider to be perfectly clear and incontrovertible. But this goes a very little way towards the settlement of the point under 122 EVILS, COMPAEATI-VELT GOOD. [cHAP. VI. discussion. In the present condition of mankind, we are compelled to submit to innumerable evils, in order to avoid some greater evil ; and a choice between evils is frequently the only course left to human wisdom and sagacity. In this aspect of our earthly lot, we account evil to be a good, if it relieve us from a heavier calamity. Thus war is an acknowledged evil — ^a positive curse. Yet war becomes a good, notwithstanding, if it protect the land from tyi-anny or violence. The loss of a limb is an evil. Yet if its am- putation be necessary to save our life, it is good to suffer the loss, without which life would be sacrificed. An un- happy marriage is an evil. Yet it may be more tolerable than the shame or penury of a divorce, and therefore it is good to endure its trials by comparison. A thousand cases might thus be put, in which evil must be preferred, and even maintained, if the consequences of our escape be the exposure to a still more deplorable catastrophe. But these, it may be alleged, are physical evils, whereas slavery is a moral evil — a crime against humanity — a sin against God. Let us try the validity of this proposition by an appeal to " the higher law," by which alone we can test the rules of religious and moral obligation. And here, of course, we are referred to the Bible, be- cause we have no other declaration of His will from the Su- preme Lawgiver. I am not aware that there is any " higher law" than this, since I do not hear that there are any mod- ern prophets amongst our ultra-abolitionists, claiming a special authority from heaven, and armed, like the apostles, with the power of miracles to prove their commission. To the. Bible, therefore, let us go, and leaj-n what Moses, and Christ Himself and His inspired messengers, said and did, in reference to slavery. OHAP. VI.'] EVIDENCE OF THE OED TESTAMENT, 123 First, then, we find Moses delivering the prophecy of the patriarch Noah, immediately after the deluge, in which slavery is expressly predicted (Gen. ix. 26-27). " Cursed be Canaan, a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren. And he said, Elessed be the Lord God of Shem, and Canaan shall be his servant. God shall en- large Japheth, and he shall dwell in the tents of Shem, and Canaan shall be his servant." That this curse was a physical and not a moral curse, is too manifest to need any argument. It was like the curse pronounced on the earth, which the labor of man was permitted to convert into a blessing. It was like the sen- tence which condemned our^race to toil and death, but yet was intended to work ultimate good through the system of redemption. And to prove that it involved no moral crime or sin against the will of the Almighty, we find the princi- ple of slavery incorporated in the divine law laid down for the chosen people. For thus we read in'the Book of Exo- dus, ch. xxi. 2-6 : "If thou buy an Hebrew servant, six years he shall serve, aqd in the seventh he shall go out free for nothing. If he came in by himself, he shall go out by himself: if he were married, then his wife shall go out with him. If his master have given him a wife, and she have borne him sons or daughters, the wife and her children shall he her inaster''s, and he shall go oxd, hy himself. And if the ser- vant shall plainly say, I love my master, my wife, and my children ; I will not go out free ; then his master shall bring him unto the judges : he shall also bring him to the d'bol", or to the door-post, and his master shall bore his ear through with an awl, and he shall serve him forever." This passage proves that the Deity authorized the selling 124: EVIDENCE OF THE OLD TESTAMENT. [cHAP. VI. of a Hebrew to his brother Israelite for six years, which was the established limit in case of debt. After the six years were fulfilled, he was entitled to a release ; but if he had married a female slave during his bondage, his wife and her children remained as before, the property of the master. And if, in such case, her husband loved his fam- ily better than his liberty, he was allowed to remain, but only on condition that he should become a slave for life, since he should serve his master " forever." And here it may be well to observe, that the term slave is met with only twice in our standard version of the Bible. The word servant is applied throughout. Yet the mean- ing is perfectly plain. For the bond-servant was always a slave, while the hired servant was a free man. But an Israelite could not be held to service beyond six years, without his own consent. He was also entitled to be discharged in the year of Jubilee: Neither of these privi- leges, however, was extended to the slaves which belonged to the heathen race of Canaan. For thus ran the divine ■ law expressly, in the Book of Leviticus, ch. xxv. 39-i6 : " If thy brother that dwelleth by thee be waxen poor and be sold unto thee, thou shalt not compel him to serve as a bond-servant, but as a hired servant and as a sojourner he shall be with thee, and shall serve thee unto the year of Jubilee. And then shall he depart from thee, both he and his children with him, and shall return unto his own family, and unto the possession of his fathers shaU he return. For they are my servants which I brought forth out of the land of Egypt ; they shall not be sold as bondmen. Thou shalt not rule over thy brother with rigor, but shalt fear thy God. Both thy landmen and thy handmaids which thou shalt haA)e, shall he of the heathen that a/re round about you • of CHAP. VI.] SLATEET DOES NOT INVOLVE SIN. 125 (hem shall ye 'buy iondmen and iondmaids. Moreover, of the children of the strangers that do sojourn among you, of them shall ye buy, and of their families that are with you, which they begat in yov/r land; and they shall be your possession. And ye shall take them as an inheritance for yoior children after you to inherit them for a possession ; they shall be your bondmen forever.''^ Here is the distinction, as plain as language can make it. The Israelite could only be sold until the sixth year, which was the year of release, or the fiftieth year, which was the year of the Jubilee ; and during the period of his servitude, he must be treated as a brother, and not as a bondman or a slave. But the race of the Canaanites, and their children, even when born in the land, were to be bought and kept as bondmen in perpetuity, and to be transmitted to the heirs of the Israelite as an inheritance. Thus the prophecy c^f ISToah was fulfilled by the slavery of the Canaanites, ac- cording to the very terms of the divine law. Where, then, was the sin of holding them in slavery ? When the Almighty commanded His people to buy and own the posterity of the heathen, was it a sin to obey Him ? And how could that which He commanded be a crime against morality ? Where is the " law" which is " higher" than the code laid down by the Deity ? Where is the rule of morals which shall claim supremacy over the Word of God? But the absurd, though very popular notion, which re- gards the relation of master and slave as essentially im- moral, requires a little more examination to manifest the error. What is this relation ? Simply a perpetual obliga- tion which binds the slave to serve the master for life, and binds the master to govern the slave with justice and with 126 REASON FOB ITS ALLOWANCE. [CHAP. ¥T. reason ; to provide for him in sickness as in health ; to in- struct him in what is necessary to his moral and spiritual welfare, according to his condition and capacity ; to main- tain his family in comfort, and to bury him decently when life is ended. Where is the immorality in this ? It is true that the slave-holding Israelite might abuse his power, but to this the law of God gave no sanction. So it is true that every other relation may be abused. The father may grievously sin against the child, and the hus- band against the wife, and the employer against the opera- tive, and the magistrate against the accused, and the teacher against the pnpil, and the overseer against the poor, and the master against the apprentice, and the jailor against the prisoner. Even the judge may take bribes, and per- vert justice. The city corporation may be corrupt, and league with villains against the public good. Kepresenta- tives and senators may sin against their constituents, and presidents may offend against the national peace and wel- fare. In a word, wherever there is power^ it is liable to abuse from human passion or infirmity. Yet who would say that the relations existing in all these classes of the community were therefore immoral in themselves ? On the side of slavery, however, there were reasons which fully justified the divine law. For the Canaanites were heathen, debased, corrupt, and flagitious ; while the Israelites were immeasurably superior to them, in the knowledge of the true God, and in the laws of virtue and morality. Hence, while slavery might be regarded physically as a curse to the Canaanites, it was assm-- edly calculated to be, morally and spiritually, a bless- ing. Infinitely better was it for their real advantage to serve the chosen people even in bondage, than to enjoy GHAP. VI.] EVIDENCE OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 12T their own miserable freedom in the wretchedness of vice and barbarous idolatry. Nay, even their temporal comfort was far more secure under the government of their Israel- itish masters, than it could have been in any other attaina- ble condition. Thus stood the question of slavery, according to the " higher law," throughout the whole fifteen centuries of the Mosaic dispensation. At the coming of Christ, the insti- tution was universal. In Judea, and everywhere through- out the old Roman empire,* we find no records of any na- tion or people without slaves. How did our Lord treat the question? Did He utter one syllable on the subject? Did He make it the topic of a single remark ? We know how His sacred rebukes fell thick and fast on every form of in- iquity. We know how He inveighed against the hypocrisy of the Pharisees, the infidelity of the Sadducees, the hard- ship of Jewish divorce, the venality and corruption whicb suiTOunded Him. But the case of the slaveholder was never mentioned, nor could any reader of the Gospels find authority for the notion that He regarded slavery as a sin against God, and a crime against humanity. We come next, to the course of His chosen messengers, the inspired apostles. And here we find not merely that they made no assault upon the institution of slavery, but that, on the contrary, they sa/nctioned it, by laying down rules for the conduct of both the slave and the master. A few of the passages bearing on this point will be useful, as proof positive of the character of their teaching. 1 Cor. vii. — " Let every man abide in the same calling wherein he was called. Art thou called, being a servant? * Gibbon estimates the number of slaves at half the population, or sixty millions. — Vol. i. 53. 128 EVIDENCE OP THE NEW TESTAMENT. [CHAP. VI. Oai-e not for it, but if thou mayst be made free, use it rather. For he that is called in the Lord, being a servant, is the Lord's freeman : likewise he that is called, being free, is the Lord's servant. — Brethren, let every man, wherein he is called, therein abide with God." * Eph. vi. 5-9. — "Servants, be obedient to them that are your masters according to the iiesh, with fear and trem- bling, in singleness of your heart, as unto Christ, not with eye-service, as men-pleasers, but as the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart, with good-will doing service, as to the Lord and not to men : knowing that what- soever good thing any man doeth, the same shall he receive of the Lord, whether he be bond or free. And, ye masters, do the same things unto them, forbearing threatening, knowing that your Master also is in heaven, neither is there respect of persons with Him." See also Col. iii. 22, for a repetition of the same. 1 Tim. vi. 1-3. — " Let as many servants as are under the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honor, that the name of God and his doctrine be not blasphemed. And they that have believing masters, let them not despise them because they are brethren, but rather do them service be- cause they are faithful and beloved, partakers of the benefit. These things teach and exhort. If any man teach other- wise, and consent not to %oholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the doctrine which is ac- cording to godliness, he is proud, knowing nothing, hut do- ting about questions and strifes of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, railings, evil surmisings, perverse dispuHngs of men of corrupt minds, and destitute of the ti^th, supvo- * The word here translated servant, is the Greek JouXoj, signifying a bond- servant or slave. CHAP. VI.] THE PEACTICB OF THE CHTIRCH. 129 smg that gain is godliness : from such withdraw thyself. But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and raiment, let us be therewith content." To these abundant testimonies, I add only the' epistle to Philemon, where we find that St. Paul had converted a runaway slave, Onesimus, and instead of telling him that he had a right to be free, and rebuking his master Phile- mon for the "sin" of slaveholding, the apostle actually sends him back again, with a letter beseeching Philemon to receive him favorably. If we go on from the days of the apostles to examine the doctrine and the practice of the Christian Church, we find no other views entertained upon the subject. Slavery con- tinued to exist in every quarter. Slaves were held, without any reproach, even by the bishops and clergy. When the practice died out, as it did in many of the European nations, the change was gradual, through the operation of worldly causes, and without any suspicion that the institution, in itself, involved a violation of religion or morality. Hence its lawfulness with respect to the African and the Indians taken in war, was universally maintained by the Puritan settlers of New England, who claimed the closest adherence in all things to the teachings of the Scriptures. And it was not until the latter part of the eighteenth century that a doubt was expressed, on either side of the Atlantic, in rela- tion to the perfect consistency of such slavery with the pre- cepts of the Gospel. Since that time, indeed, public opinion, both in Old and iffew England, has undergone a great revolution. But this 6annot be attributed to the Bible, nor to the Church, nor to 6« 130 THE VIEW OF PHILANTHEOPT. [CHAP. TO. any new knowledge of the will of God, nor to the discovery of any unknown principles of moral action. All that be- longs to these was perfectly familiar to the Christian world from the days of the apostles. And therefore no intelligent and candid mind can be surprised to find that the most vio- lent opponents of slavery in the United States are always ready to wi-est the Bible and denounce the Church, because they cannot derive from either the slightest real support in their assaults against the lawfulness of the institution. It must be remembered, however, that the lawfulness of slavery is one thing. Its expediency or desirableness is quite another. Of this I shall have occasion to speak in due season. But the law must be settled first, and the ex- pediency must be considered afterwards ; because the advo- cates of abolition make it a question of " the higher law" — a law above the Constitution ; and assuredly there can be no such law, unless we find it enacted by the authority of heaven. CHAPTEE VII. ON SLAVEET, CONSIDEEED IK THE ASPECT OF PHILANTHEOPT. There are three characters in which we may contemplate Ibis very serious question : first, as Christians ; secondly, as philanthropists ; and, thirdly, as politicians. Of the first I have already treated in the previous chapter. It is doubt- less to the second, that we must assign the place of the prominent leaders of abolitionism in the United States • for although many good Christian people advocate the same cause, yet it is certain that the clergy, in general have CHAP, vn.] COMPAEISON. 131 -given it very little countenance. Let us next, therefore, examine the practical system of African slavery, as it exists at the South, under the aspect of philanthropy. And in order to do this fairly, we are bound to look at the subject, not in the narrow light of a few cases of individual hard- ship, but in the broad relation which it bears to the welfare of the slaves themselves, and to the future results upon the vast continent of Africa. There are two modes in which the matter may be regard- ed, both being modes of comparison, because we cannot view it practically in any other manner than comparatively. And it is of the highest importance to the result that we choose the right standard of comparison, since the adoption of the wrong will infallibly lead us into error. Hei'e, then, we take African slavery as afoot. We may compare the condition of the slaves with our own condition as freemen, and mourn, to our hearts' content, over the re- straints, the hardships, the ignorance, the immorality of their bondage, and imagine how much happier they would be, if they were all emancipated, and placed in our own circumstances. But is this a fair or just process of compar- ison ? Suppose them to be emancipated, would that enable them to ascend to our level ? The answer is obvious when we look at those who are already free. And it is the testi- mony of all candid observei-s that the free negro, other things being equal, is in a worse condition than the slave, physically and morally — less happy, less healthy, less con- tented, less secure, less religious. It is notorious that many of those who had escaped have returned to their masters of their own accord, glad to escape from the wretchedness of their freedom. It is notorious that in the Southern States the pl^yes look down upon the free negroes with pity, and 132 COMPAEISON. [chap. TH. often with disdain, as being altogether in a position inferior to their own. For they feel themselves to be connected for life with the family of their master, sure of protection, sure of a comfortable home, sure of a plentiful subsistence, sure of kind attendance in sickness and old age, and sure of affection and confidence, unless they forfeit them by un- faithfulness or rebellion. These advantages are lost to the free negro, and the slaves have no difficulty in understand- ing that he has nothing to replace them. True, they must work. But so must the free negro : so must the laboring class in every civilized community. And when we com- pare their condition with that of our own hirelings, there are many points which seem to be greatly in their favor. For their work is light and regular, as a general rule. They have abundant time allowed for recreation and for holidays. They are not, like the free laborer, liable to be dismissed at a moment's warning, and forced to beg or suffer for want of work to do. They are not tempted to strike for higher wages, when the ordinary rates are too low for the neces- saries of life. They are not exposed to the melancholy refuge of the poorhouse, and turned out to die in poverty and neglect, after their strength has been exhausted in a long struggle with hardship and with toil. They are not sent adrift amongst the dens of infamy and pollution which contaminate all our free cities, bidding defiance to tlie hands of the police and the hearts of the benevolent. And if it be indeed a disadvantage that they cannot change their mas- ters, it is in most cases more than a counterbalance for this that they could gain nothing by the change ; since every laborer must have some master in order to live and the slave possesses the only security of always having a master who is bound to keep liim from destitution, for years after CHAP, yn.] COMPAEISON. 133 the decays of nature have taken the power of earning his livelihood away. When philanthropy, therefore, gets rid of prejudice, and surveys the comparative advantages of the two systems with impartial candor, and casts aside the odium which attaches to the name of slave, it will not appear so easy to determine that slavery is a calamity to the race of Africa. On the contrary, it exhibits the nearest approach to the patriarchal times, when Abraham had three hundred and eighteen ser- vants born in his own house, over whom he ruled with absolute power, but with far more substantial comfort and advantage to them than if they had been a band of ordi- nary hirelings. For however we may talk about the bless- ings of individual liberty, the true interest of the laboring class demands a large amount of mutual dependence and association. The master \feels for his slaves, because they are his own. The slaves are attached to him in turn, be- cause they make a part of his household, bred up under his care from childhood, and directly concerned in all that be- longs to him, as their ruler and protector. The hearts and sympathies of both, therefore, are bi'ought into constant play by this long and close affinity of interest. And there, after all, is the surest element of human welfare and secu- rity, if it were rightly governed by the laws of religious responsibility. But how does this element exist in the free system of the hireling and his wages ? Where is the heart or sympathy between the moneyed capitalist and his operatives ? The whole essence of the business is resolved into dollars and cents. The workman is -discharged, if another can be found to do the same duty with greater skill or cheapness. Or he discharges himself, if he can earn a little more by going 134 LIBEKIA. [OHAP. Vn. to a new employer. There is no field of personal depend- ence in which the feelings of either can be exercised. Suspicion and watchfulness are the only instruments relied upon by both sides, and the parties learn to regard each other with habitual distrust, dreading to be cheated in the stern contest of unmitigated selfishness, and without the slightest hope or desire of forming a lasting union of interest and afiection. These statements may appear too highly colored or other- wise, just as my readers may have been accustomed to regard the subject. But however this may be, the fact remains undeniable that the slaves at the South are, on the whole, the happiest class of laborers in the world, and the most perfectly contented with their own condition. And this fact is of more value than all the reasonings of aboli- tionism. That a portion of the slaves will always be found worthy to be emancipated, as being possessed of more industry and talent than the average, is doubtless true ; and such cases may safely be trusted to their master's liberality, or to the interest which they rarely fail to excite amongst others. That there is another portion likely to be dissatis- fied and refractory is also true, and the nmnber of slaves who run away afford the evidence. But these are excep- tions to the general rale, about as numerous, perhaps, as the cases amongst the free laborers of other countries, where a few, possessed of extraordinary energy, are seen to rise up from a very low beginning, and another few prove worthy of the penitentiary ; while the vast majority continue where they were, through the slavery of circumstances, which proves to be about as strong as any other Mnd of bondage, amongst the masses of mankind. And for that portion who desire and are qualified for CHAP. TO.] LIBEEIA. 135 freedom, our Southern philanthropists have provided, of their own accord, the noble colony of Liberia, now advanced so far as to be an object of great interest amongst the nations, and likely, under God, to accomplish a glorious work for the whole continent of Africa, in due time. We know the history of that enlightened and truly admirable enterprise. We know that it was originated and carried forward by slaveholders, who, as a class, are far better acquainted with the characteristics, and much more occu- pied with the welfare of the negro race, than we of the North can be. Eor with them, these matters form a con- stant element of practical life ; while with us they are rather the subjects of uncertain speculation. And we know, further, that the disposition to emancipate their more deserving slaves is common amongst our Southern brethren, and that Liberia is constantly I'eceiving accessions Jrom the same generous spirit to which it owes its origin. Grievously warped by prejudice must that judgment be, in my humble opinion, which fails to see the vast superior- ity of this plan for the disposal of the small minority of the negro race who desire and are qualified for freedom. For experience has abundantly proved that they can never rise to the average level of the white population, amongst the free States. Their color forms an insuperable barrier, which no art or management can remove. But in the land of their fathers, the true field of upward destiny is thrown open to them. The providence of God has fitted the cli- mate to them, and fitted them to the climate. And I doubt not that om- Southern slavery has been ordained, in His wisdom and mercy, to prepare them, under the training of their Christian masters, for the grand consummation which shall yet regenerate the vast ti-ibes of heathen and Mahom- 136 THE BENEFITS TO THE AFEICAN. [CHAP. TH. etan barbarians, throughout the whole of poor benighted Africa, and display, in the eyes of the world, a splendid proof of the mercy and goodness, which direct the mysteri- ous dispensations of the Almighty. But the philanthropy of our abolitionists can see nothing in the slavery of the African race except evil, and only evil. If their views had governed the counsels of Provi- dence, the negroes imported into these United States would all have remained on their native soil. And what would have been the consequence ? They must have lived and died in the darkness of the grossest paganism, accustomed to the very lowest depths of savage degradation. It is only necessary to read the statements of the geographer, Malte- brun, or any reliable traveller, concerning the kingdom of Dahomey and the Guinea coast, and reflect upon the con- dition of our Southern slaves as compared with that of the native African, and we shall be obliged to confess that the blessings and advantages which the negroes attained by their transfer to this country, would have been cheaply pur- chased by the toils and sufferings of half a lifetime. And this, perhaps, is the most enlightened and rational mode of testing the question. In the origin of the slave-trade, the slaves were captives taken in war, and, if not sold to the white dealer, they would have been liable to torture and death from their own countrymen, or been spared for a slavery infinitely worse under barbarian masters, without any of the ameliorations which civilization and Christianity had in store for them. Southern slavery, therefore has been the very means of raising them and their posterity, amounting to many millions, from this debased and wretched state, to a far higher place on the scale of human- ity: and thus we may readily perceive that the reasons CHAP. VII.] THE BENEFITS TO THE AFEICAN. 137 which were assigned to justify the divine law, in allowing the ancient Israelites to buy slaves of the Canaanites, applied, with all their force, to the heathen savages of Afi'ica. "What sort of philanthropy is that, which would rather plunge them back into their original condition? Wliat sort of religion is that, which brands with the name of villainy and sin the only plan which the mercy of Providence permitted, in order to rescue those millions from heathen misery and ruin ? "What sort of benevolence is that, which would prefer that the noble colony of Liberia had never existed, and that the negro race should have lived and died in all the cruel and bloody despotism of Dahomey, rather than become fitted, in the hands of their Southern masters, to dispense the knowledge of God, of liberty, and of civilization throughout the darkest regions of barbarism ? For myself, I can truly say that I have no sympathy with those who depreciate the negro race below the true stan- dard of humanity. I rei^udiate with all my heart the iniidel hypothesis which denies that God hath made of one blood all the nations of the earth. I believe that the negro is capable of all the improvement of mind and moral princi- ple which education can bestow, and am ready to welcome every proof which individual cases have aiforded of his genius and his powers. But I do not admit that slavery is the cause, in itself, of either moral or intellectual degrada- tion, if the master be not morally and intellectually degraded. The greater part of the instructors of youth, in the palmy days of ancient Greece and Rome, were slaves. Esop was a slave. The philosopher Epictetus was a slave. A large proportion of the primitive Christians were slaves. And assuredly there is nothing in the mere bond compel- ling one to labor for another, which opposes the love of 138 SLAVEET, WITH EEGAED TO POLITICS. [cHAP. VIH. virtue and of truth. On the contrary, if the master be a good man, the effect of such a bond must be to elevate the character of its subject ; and the hardship on the one side, in the obligation to serve, is more than equalled on the other, in being obliged to maintain the servant, through every change of circumstances. But men may differ as they please upon the point of abstract speculation. The fact is, that Southern slavery has raised the African far above his original condition, and enabled him to plant the noble colony of Liberia. And in this, all true philanthropy rejoices, and will rejoice, not- withstanding the hostility of ultra-abolitionism. CHAPTEE VIII. ON SLAVEET, AS A QUESTION OP POLITIOS. Having briefly discussed this most important topic ac- cording to the two aspects of religion and philanthropy, it only remains that I examine its political bearing : and then, as I trust, my readers will be prepared to understand, with a clearer intelligence, what are the rights and duties of the American citizen, concerning its just and legal claims. It is quite indisputable that the political aspect of the question embraces the constitutional warrant, the existing laws of Congress, and the obligation to maintain the peace and good order of the several States, in their relations towards each other. For these are included in the oath of allegiance, which lies at the base of all civic principle, and the violation of which constitutes the essence of treason. This oath of allegiance is expressed in the law which CHAP. Tm.] SLAVERY, ACCOEDmG TO LAW. 139 admits the naturalized foreigner to the privileges of an American citizen. But I need hardly say that every na- tive is bom under the very same obligation. It is a libel on our republic to publish the political heresy, that the vir- tue of loyalty has no place except under a monarchical sys- tem. The only diiference is, that under that system, loyalty bears relation to the rightful king, while, with us, its proper object is the Constitution. Now slavery, such as then existed (and still exists, in nearly one half of the States), is expressly recognized in the Constitution. The word, indeed, is not there, but the tfivng is. No lawyer ever doubted that " persons held to service" (Art. iv. § 3), were the slaves. Such has been the invariable construction of the Supreme Court ; and if any intelligent man, knowing the history of the times, could doubt the meaning, he is bound by the principles of the Constitution to submit to that tribunal which possesses the authoritative right of judicial interpretation. The same section distinctly guards the rights of the mas- ter from any interference. " No person held to service or labor in one State, under the laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such service or labor, but shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labor may be due." And in the 10th article of the Amendments, the right of every State to regulate its own internal policy is fully pro- tected by these words : " The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people." To these I shall only add the last clause of the 6th article, 140 SLAVEET, ACCOEDING TO LAW. [CHAP. VIH. in which it is provided that " the Senators and Eepresenta- tives (of Congress) before mentioned, and the members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by oath or affirmation to support this Con- stitution." The rights of the slave States being thus protected by the " supreme law of the land," we may next advert to the fact that their number has since been greatly enlarged by the new States admitted into the Union, and that several acts have been passed by Congress, directed to the securing of this special peculiarity, by facilitating the recovery of their absconding negroes. When we look, therefore, at the political aspect of slavery, it is perfectly manifest that the Constitution and the laws allow it, and guard it against invasion ; and that the oath of office demands the support of the Constitution from every officer, legislative, judicial, and executive, with- out exception. From this it results, plainly, that no politician can attack the lawfulness of slavery, without attacking the Constitu- tion and laws of his country. And equally manifest it is that no man can swear to support the Constitution in good faith, and at the same time oppose himself to its provisions, without violating his oath of office. While those prominent leaders of Abolitionism who openly avow that they ti-ample on the Constitution, and seek to plunge the nation into the horrors of civil war, in their insane zeal for what they sup- pose to be the rights of the negro, are indeed more honest and frank than the rest, but certainly are engaged in noth- ing more nor less than the instigation to treason. For this systematic opposition to the slave States, there is CHAP. VIII.] SLA.VEEY, AOOOEDING TO LAW. 141 not the slightest really political pretext. "Whatever the evil of slavery may be, it cannot be pretended that it is rel- atively greater than it was at the time when the Constitu- tion was established. Then, the slaves amounted to 600,000, in a population of three millions, which was one-fifth of the whole. Now they have have reached about three and a quarter millions in a population of nearly twenty-fom- mil- lions, which is less than one-seventh. It cannot be said that their treatment is more severe, that their personal comforts are less secure, or that their masters are enabled to exercise any larger share of power, by their means, over the other States in the Union. -The spirit of encroachment is all on the other side. The South has not sought to dis- turb the North, or to force slavery upon them. It is the North which disturbs the South, and seeks to excite the slaves against their owners. On the one side, there is only a firm adherence to the rights guarantied by the Consti- tution. On the other, there is a constant efibrt to tear those rights away, at whatever risk of blood and anarchy. The contest is between the supreme legislature of the land, the laws, and the judges ; opposed by popular societies, by loud denunciation, and bitter fanaticism. The appeal made by our inflammatory orators is to a " higher law" which ex- ists nowhere, since it is perfectly idle to say that it can be found in the word of God, and equally idle to assert that it may be discovered in the principles of enlightened phi- lanthropy. And the object which has thus concentrated the energy of Abolitionism is such, that it would put arms in the hands of millions of the African race against their masters, and plunge the nation into civil war, without the possibility of foreseeing an end to the horrors of the conflict. The true politician is bound to love his country, to de- 143 THE rnjTT OF THE POLITICIAN. [OHAP. VIH. fend its government, and promote its unity and peace. He may not believe that slavery is expedient or advantageous, although he cannot consistently deny that it is lawful, so long as it is allowed by the laws of God and man. He may think it better for the African race, and better for their Southern masters, that the institution should be abol- ished, as fast as it can be, with a just regard to the rights of the owners, to the future welfare of the slaves, and to the general interests of the Union. And thinking thus, he may temperately and kindly seek to impress his arguments on the intelligence and virtue of his brethren ; and do his utmost, in friendly co-operation with those who are imme- diately concerned, to bring about some judicious plan of gradual abolition. In a course like this, I should be able to feel a cordial sympathy ; and I doubt not that efforts so directed by a just and patriotic spirit, would meet a gener- ous welcome from many of the most influential and noble- hearted men in the Southern States. But to deny their rights, to calumniate their principles, to menace their per- sons when they presume to seek their own under the au- thority of law, to upbraid them with atrocious sin against heaven and humanity, to preach insurrection to their slaves, to goad them with 'bitter reproach and insult, to refuse them a place in the Church of Christ, and brand them as if they were destitute of morality, justice, and religion — all this is the work of an incendiary, rather than of a poli- tician. Its necessary result must be, and has been, to in- crease the evil which it designs to cure. It exasperates and alienates, instead of convincing. And if the mistaken men who have adopted this unhappy com-se desired to rivet the bondage of the slaves, and thoroughly disgust their, owners with every notion of emancipation, they could not CHAP. Vni.] THE DUTY OF THE POLITICIAN. 143 possibly have taken a more likely mode of effecting the purpose. I am aware, indeed, that the term Politician is used in our day with a large latitude of meaning. It is applied to all who are active in electioneering, though it be in the narrowest circle ; as well as to those who never look beyond some party triumph, and bind themselves to a contracted sectional view, without heart or brains enough to estimate the general interests and permanent welfare of the whole country. It is not in such a sense that I have used the phrase of a true politician, but in the broad and lofty sense of the Constitution, which embraces the Urdted States — the South and the North — the East and the West, in the comprehensive and generous scope of genuine nationality. And in that sense, I regard no man as a true politician, who seeks to gain victory for a part, at the cost of the whole. The statesman worthy of the name may desire, with all earnestness, to relieve the land from the reproach and the ultimate dangers of slavery. But he will approach the subject with a just appreciation of the arguments upon the other side. He will make all fair allowance for the diflB- culties which surround the question. He will do due honor to the motives and the principles of his Southern brethren. He will remember that the institution is main- tained by sovereign States, who alone have the right and the power to determine how it may be safely and gradually done away. He will seek to work with and for those in- terests which are directly complicated with the desired change, and prove his friendliness and his sincerity by that kindly feeling which belongs to all real philanthropy. And he. will be patient and willing to wait, until it pleases Pi'ovi- dence to give a lawful impulse to the cause in the right 144: EXPEDIENCY OF ABOLITION. [cHAP. IX. quarter; HQver willing to do evil, that good may come, nor trampling upon the Constitution and the oath of ofiBce, in his intemperate haste to accomplish a change, which must come slowly, wisely, and prudently, if it come at all. That it will come, sooner or later, in the right way, by the favor of God towards our Southern States and towards the race of Africa, is my own strong conviction : and I beg the indulgence of my readers to a brief sketch of the argu- ment of expediency, in the following chapter. CHAPTER IX. ON THE EXPEDIENCY OF ABOLITION. I HAVE defended, frankly and fully, the lawfulness of Af- rican slavery, in the Southern States, from the Scriptures, from the principles of true philanthropy, and from the Con- stitution. The expediency of its continuance to the interests of the South and of the Union, is a different question ; and as this is a subject to which I have given, years ago, con- siderable reflection,* I shall here repeat the general process of thought by which I arrived at my conclusions. Slavery may be easily shown to have been, thus far, a benefit to the negro, when we remember the awful depth of heathen barbarism and wretchedness, from which it has raised him to his present state, in the hands of his Southern master. But it does not follow that it has been of advan- tage to the owners of the slaves. On the contrary, I believe * A Lecture delivered at Buffalo and Lockport in 1850, which was printed by request and largely circulated, contains an examination of this matter. CHAP. IX.] DISADVANTAGES TO THE MASTEES. 145 that it entails upon them a very serious amount of loss, of danger, and of peculiar responsibility, which it would cer- tainly be desirable to avoid, as soon as may be peacefully and judiciously practicable. The loss to the master, in my humble judgment, must be considerable. Computing the price of an able-bodied slave at $900, the interest on this may be rated annually at $70 or $80 ; in addition to which,, he must be fed and clothed, and his childi-en must be maintained for many years before they can earn their living, and he and his wife must be supported in old age, long after they are of any use to their owner. We must also take into account the fact that it re- quires two negroes, on an average, to do the work of one white man. Certainly this proves that there is no laborer so dear and costly as the slave, since the same amount of toil could be obtained from the Irish or the German for less than half the actual expenditure. It is thought by many, I am aware, that the white man could not endure the heat of the southern climate. But I presume this to be a mis- take, because a much warmer climate is endured by the English soldier in the East Indies, by the miners in Cali- fornia, and by the travellers in South America. Moreover, the white laborers have built the railroads in those very States ; and the small proprietors, who have not the means to pay an overseer, are accustomed to work along with their slaves, and do" it without difficulty. Here, then, it seems manifest that the planters of the South must lose largely in the heavy tax imposed upon them by slave labor. But the second branch of the argument, namely, the 'danger of the system, is still more worthy of attention. Al- though I believe that the great body of our southern slaves are perhaps the happiest and most contented laborers in the 7 146 DANGERS OF THE MASTERS. [CHAP. IX. world, yet there are always some likely to be among tlaem of a Tery different temper, prone to feelings of resentment, and disposed to regard their masters as oppressors, whom it would be no sin, but a virtue, to destroy. Instances have occurred, in all ages, of the terrible result of passion and revenge on the part of slaves. The histories of ancient Greece and Kome are full of them. In modem times, we cannot fail to think of St. Domingo ; and in the Southern States themselves, there have been not a few lamentable outbreaks, which carried horror and misery in their train. Hence the insecurity, the constant sense of peril, which must attend the possession of slaves, even under the best of circumstances. Doubtless, habit may go far to reconcile their owners to the danger, and even to make them alto- gether insensible to their risk. But I have met with cases, in my small acquaintance, where it was a source of con- tinual apprehensiveness ; and this alone would be a serious olj)jection to the system, if there were no other. There is another danger, however, strongly felt by many Southern gentlemen, derived from the difficulty of main- taining the slaves, in the impoverished condition of the soil which is so generally consequent upon slave culture ; and this diflBculty is increasing, as the number of the negroes increases, in a fearful ratio. The Hon. Mr. Shepherd, in the legislature of ISTorth Carolina, some years ago, put this feature of the case into a powerful argument for abolition, inasmuch as he predicted that the time must come, ac- cording to present appearances, when it would be totally impossible for the masters to feed the slaves, and then they would emancipate themselves of necessity, and scatter over the land, in the very wildness of starvation. If this calcu- lation be correct, it accounts, satisfactorily, for the anxiety 0Hi4.I*i IX.] KESPONSIBILIT¥ OP THE MASTEES. 147 of our southern friends to extend tlie area of slavery into new States, where the strength of a virgin soil may enable them to work to advantage. But it also shows the far wiser policy, if possible, of getting rid of the incumbrance altogether. The third head of my suggestions, namely, the responsi- bility which is inseparable from the system, outweighs, in my own mind, all the rest. The whole burden of this re- sponsibility rests on the master and the mistress, because the slaves, in general, are as thoughtless and careless as children, and need to be watched over, and provided for, with a sort of care, which is enough, of itself, to wear out the firmest nerves, and break down the strongest spirit of a conscientious guardian. They have to be taught the prin- ciples of morality and religion, by oral instruction ; they have to be restrained from folly and from sin ; their clo- thing and their dwellings must be inspected ; their amuse- ments and recreations must be regulated ; their tempers towards each other must be governed ; and in sickness they must be attended by eyes far more watchful than their own, in order to satisfy the feelings of a Christian. The overseer can be expected to do but little of all this, for if he looks after them in their hours of labor, it is as much as he is likely to perform, and more than he always performs as he ought for the advantage of the employer. But when these other duties ai-e discharged towards a body of a hundred or perhaps several himdred of those simple and dependent creatures, the master and the mistress become slaves in a far more painful sense, than any of those who are under their control. In aid of these suggestions, there is surely a large meas- ure of consideration due to the prejudice and utter opposi- 148 WISDOM OF ABOLITION. [cHAP. IX. tion to the system, which are manifested by the free States of the Union ; for although I have endeavored to show how unjust and unreasonable the character of this opposition has been, yet there is no ground to hope that time or argument will lessen it. This might perhaps be expected, if the abo- litionists of the United States stood alone ; but they are powerfully sustained by the English press, and the same hatred of slavery is shared by France, Germany, and most of the other nations of Europe. Moreover, the spirit of the age is strongly set towards every form of human liberty, and one might as well attempt to check the rising storm by expostulation, as to put back tlie onward movement of our times by the force of constitutional law or religious sanction. "Would it not be wise, therefore, to remove the cause of contention' if it can be done without any serious sacrifice of interest ? Have the masters of our slaves any real ad- vantage at stake, to prevent their timely action in the only course of ultimate prudence ? And does not the system present, in itself, a sufficient amount of loss, danger, and painful responsibility, to demand a friendly conference among the Southern States, not upon the best mode of re- sisting abolitionism, or of withdrawing from the Union, but upon the best mode of ridding themselves of a clog and a hindrance, and thus advancing their own prosperity and welfare ? Six yeai-s ago, I took the liberty of recommending a plan, by which the public lands might be hypothecated for the purpose of paying the owners who should be willing to emancipate their slaves, and transporting them to Africa, at a certain rate per annum, so that in the course of another generation, between death and emigration, the country might be free, and the masters should receive the value of i CHAP. IX.] IMPORTANCE TO THE UNION. 149 their property, and be able to cultivate their lands witli 1 hired labor. The pamphlet was largely circulated at the time, and ' was fayored with the approbation of some amongst those (' eminent patriots, whom the nation once delighted to hon- or. But the period was not auspicious for a calm and friendly conference upon any measure of radical concilia- tion. Nor does the present offer to the outward eye any better prospect. So far from it, indeed, that even as I write, there is an actual commencement of a struggle in Kansas Territory, which may lead to a civil war. "While the violence inflicted in the very Senate 0^' amber of the United States, and growing out of the coiitest about sla- very, adds fuel to the flame ; and fills with alarm and con- sternation the mind of every friend to peace and union.* Yet it is possible that these conflicts may be, under the ! wise providence of God, the necessary means of forcing the ■ i thoughtftd lovers of truth to those active measures, which can 1 alone remove this prolific root of bitterness and dissension. ! And therefore I ventui'e again to raise my feeble voice, and ;, offer my humble counsel, in the hope of aiding somewhat in i the real and practical settlement of this distracting question. 1 I say then, that it is expedient, good, yea necessary, not 1^ only to the lasting union of this glorious nation, but to the prosperity of the Southern States themselves, that they 1 should get rid of the slaves, and send them to Africa, as I fast as possible. But this neither can nor ought to be done I at the ruin of their owners. The whole country is equally I J * Happily, by the favor of Heaven, this storm has passed away. But the ele- ments of strife remain. And although the result of the Presidential election ' may calm them for a while, yet few can doubt that they are ready to renew the I {rerilous contest. 160 DIFFICULTT OF ABOLITION. [CHAP. X. interested in the result, and the whole country should bfe equally charged with the cost of the operation. Our south- ern brethren were led into the system by no fault of theirs. England herself introduced it into her colonies, long before the birth of our national Constitution, and at a time when it was in accordance with the sentiments and practice of the civilized world. It took a deeper hold at the South, because it agreed with the climate, and the peculiar prod- ucte of the soil, the cotton-plant and sugar-cane. And the North has no right to reproach the South, for results which I have shown to be consistent with law and Grospel, and thus far highly beneficial to the slaves themselves, in the view of all true philanthropy. But how can three millions of souls be emancipated and sent away ? The magnitude of the difficulty is appalling. I grant it freely. The difficulty, however, is only increased by delay. And great as it certainly is, I do not believe that it is insurmountable. Let me invoke the kindly atten- tion of the reader to the various modes in which I am per- suaded that it may be accomplished, if the intelligent, zealous, and sincere lovers of their country, in the North and in the South, will only come together in the spirit of cordial patriotism and fraternity. CHAPTEE X. ON THE MODE OF ABOLITION. The first point that demands inquiry is the pecuniary value of the slave population. And here, out of the three and a quarter millions, I presume that there is not more OHAP. XJ MODE OF ABOLITION. 15l than one half million worth the full average price of This -would already amount to the enormous sum of $450 millions. Another half million might be worth the av- erage of $450, total, 225 millions. One million may be estimated at $200, . . 200 millions. And the remainder may be set down at . . 125 millions, many of them consisting of weak, diseased, and superan- nuated persons, who are rather a loss than a gain to their owners, by reason of the large expense required for their maintenance. But this estimate gives us the alarming aggregate of one thousand millions, worth, at six per cent., an interest of six- ty millions a year ! What can be done with such a fright- ful burden ? Yet it is only about one-fourth of the standing national debt of England. And I think it can be disposed of without any serious difficulty by the United States. In order to present the matter in its worst form, I shall commence with the most objectionable mode of direct tax- ation, and then proceed to show how the object might be accomplished in other ways, which would impose no burden whatever on the nation. And I hope to prove that Con- gress has full authority to do all that is required, without the slightest risk of acting unconstitutionally. First, then, let us examine the possibility of providing the means by direct taxation. Congress has power, under the 8th section of the 1st article of the Constitution, to " lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, and excises, to pay the debts undi provide for the common defence and welfare of the United States." And no lawyer will deny, that whenever the abolition of slavery, by just and legal means, shall appear to be expedient, to provide for the common 152 BY DIEEOT TAXATION. [CHAP. X. defence and welfare of the United StaUs, by warding off the danger of a civil war, and preventing the dissolution of the Union, the levying of a tax for such a purpose will be strictly Constitutional. Solus reijpullicm suprema lex. My own humble opinion is, that we are rapidly approaching that crisis, if we have not reached it already. JSTow I assume that there are five millions, at least, of taxable persons in the land * And therefore the annual interest upon the 1000 millions of slave property, which is about 60 millions a year, would require only an average of $12.00 for each person. Is that so frightful a price to pay for unity, safety, and peace? Especially as the op- eration would be gradual, since the whole would not be needed until the last slave was freed, and the increase of oui- population would increase the number of those who should be liable to pay it, and thus the tax on each indi- vidual would go on lessening from the maximum to the end of time. Suppose, then, that Congress should enact a law, creatiag a national obligation to pay a fair price for every slave, whose master was willing to free him, in scrip, which should bring the interest from the Treasury every year. This scrip would always be worth its par value, or rather it would soon command a premium, because, like the English Consols, it would be the surest investment for those who are able to live on the interest of their money. Suppose that this law contained the following provisions, in order to protect, on the one hand, the constitutional rights of the slave States, and, on the other, to secure * De Bow's " Compendium" (p. 50) estimates the number of white males, in 1850, above the age of 21, at 4,684,883. Five millions in 1856 is therefore a reasonable allowance. CHAP. X.] PKOPOSED LAW. 153 the gradual operation of the plan, in accordance with true policy. 1. That it should be applicable to no State, unless it were sanctioned by its own Legislature, who should at the same time pass a law making free, at the age of 21, all the off- spring of the slaves born after a certain day, and providing for their school instruction in the manner of white ap- prentices. 2. That it should not extend to more than forty thousand slaves per annum, all of whom should be transported to Africa, with the means of support for one year, under the care of competent officers, and formed into communities, in union with Liberia, at the cost of the United States. 3. That the Commissioners of the Government should select those slaves who were most intelligent, most fit for freedom, and best adapted to be of service in Africa ; in- cluding, however, the young children who were dependent on their parents' care, or from whom the parents were not willing to be separated ; and in no case taking the husband or the wife from the society of each other. The first of these provisions would guard against the charge of interfering unconstitutionally with State rights, because the proposed law would only apply to such States as should be willing to concur in the relief contemplated. Some time might elapse, perhaps, before any of the slave States would thus concur, but I presume that the example would soon be commenced ; and once commenced, I cannot doubt that it would be rapidly followed. The next provision with respect to the children born after a certain day, and free at 21, with the rudiments of a com- mon education, would put a stop to the increase of the slaves, and would further provide a class of laborers trained 1* 15i EFFECTS OF SUCH A LAW. [CHAP. X. under proper restraints, and yet witli the anticipation of freedom, so as to become useful, and well-behaved hirelings, in any community. Such individuals would constitute, through the difference in their training, a far better kind of population than the free negroes in general. And a large proportion of them would probably go to Africa of their own accord, as soon as they were able. The third provision would limit the number of emanci- pated slaves to 40,000 per annum, so as to guard the South- ern States from too sudden a revulsion, by removing the slave labor, faster than it could be replaced by the free. In the mode proposed, it would not be difficult for the plant- er to set off a portion of his fields for free culture, and hire the laborers upon that portion only, inasmuch as it would evidently not work well to have the slaves and the hirelings together. And this portion might be enlarged, as the number of the slaves diminished, until, by degrees, the whole was brought under the free system. With re- spect to the government, the obligation to transport 40,000 freed slaves to Africa, and support them for one year, under proper officers, would of course add largely to the expense. Supposing it to cost $150 a head, it would amount to six millions annually. But this would only add one dollar and twenty cents apiece to the five millions of tax payers, and would be repaid a thousand-fold, in a few years, by the re- sults in African commerce and- civilization. The effect of thus withdrawing 40,000 of the young and lusty from our slave population every year, would be to take away one million in 25 years. And after that period, how many of the rest would be remaining ? Probably not one. The young children would have gone with their pa- rents to Africa. Death would have done his work upon the OHAP. X.] MAXIMUM OF TAX. 165 old and feeble. And thus the whole danger and evil might be entirely disposed of, long before the close of the present bentury. Supposing, then, such a law to be enacted by Congress, the first year of its operation would require scrip to be issued for the interest of 6 per cent, on $36,000,000, the price of 40,000 firSt-class slaves at $900 each. This would amount to $2,160,000 Add expenses of transportation, officers, and sup- port for 1 year 6,000,000 $8,160,000 The direct tax required to meet this, from 5,000,000 tax payers, would be $1.64 for each man, during the first year. The second year would add as much more ; the third would triple it, until, in ten years, it would be $16.40, supposing the tax payers to remain as at the beginning. But our country doubles its population in 25 years. And of course ten years give us | to be added to our taxable citizens, who will then have increased from five millions to seven. The tax therefore for each to pay, in 10 years, would be reduced to $9.84. And supposing the whole operation to continue for twenty-five years, which I consider to be a large calcu- lation, the extent of the burden could not exceed $20.50 a piece, amongst ten millions of tax payers, which would be the maximum. In twenty-five years more, this would de- crease to $10.50. In fifty, it would be reduced to $5.25. In seventy-five, it would be down to $2.12^, and in a hun- dred, it would be $1.6|, diminishing one half, of coiirse, as the population doubled, every quarter of a century. I h3.ye here made no allowance for the thousands of slave? 156 CONSTITUTIONALITY. [CHAP. X. •whom our Southern brethren would doubtless emancipate, free of cost, whenever they are assured that they can be safely conveyed out of the United States, and -ndsely planted on the coast of Africa. Nor have I asked for any deduc- tion on account of the noble work of the American Colo- nization Society. But setting these aside, and putting down the whole in the form of a dry financial calculation, it is plain that we may accomplish, if we please, a clean rid- dance of this most perilous difficulty, which must otherwise entail upon our posterity, if not upon ourselves, the most fatal and deplorable consequences. But I am well aware that the imposition of a direct tax is a measure so unpopular, that few could be persuaded to contemplate it with the slightest complacency. The war with England, in 1812, obliged Congress to have recourse to it, of necessity, because that war deprived the Treasury of its commercial income. The business of the country was thrown, for a time, into confusion and perplexity, — so great, indeed, that it was a pretext for the proposition entertained by the Hartford Convention, that the Eastern States should secede from the Union, in order to escape impending ruin. Yet, although our progress towards a separation of the ISTorth from the South is gradual, and many refuse to see the danger which this slave agitation is surely creating, I am persuaded that it menaces the land with a complication of horrors far more dark and fearful, than any amount of foreign war or commercial difficulty could ever equal. And if Congress was justified in laying a direct tax, and the good sense of the nation submitted to it, sooner than allow to England the right of search, much more would our great legislature be justified in doing the same thing, for the far more important object of securing internal peace, and CHAP. X.] ABOLITION WITHOUT TAXATION. 167 putting a final end to this bitter and distracting con- troversy. Happily, however, there is another mode of providing the means, without adopting this obnoxious course of direct taxation. I have stated it at large, in order to prove that it is practicable, but I rest with greater hope upon the plan sub- mitted in the pamphlet to which I have already referred, namely, the devoting the public domain of the United States to the object, so as to render it perfectly practicable without laying any burden upon the people. Eighty-four million acres of the public lands were given away by Act of Congress in 1851. Other large grants have since been made. But I find it stated that there are still remaining more than One tJiousand five hundred millions of acres, worth at least Two thousand millions of dollars ! Here, then, is a substantial basis, in land, for twice the amount required to redeem the whole slave population of the Union, without taxing a single individual. The capi- talists of Europe would gladly pour their funds into the public treasury, for such an object, if this immense domain were pledged by Act of Congress to the lenders ; and a public debt thus created would stand pre-eminently before the world, as not merely the safest of all investments, but the most glorious monument of national wisdom and phi- lanthropy. The public debt of England is . . . $3,822,000,000 That of France is 943,000,000 And that of Spain is 700,000,000 Yet the greatest of these is no serious obstacle to the prosperity of the British empire, although it has not a single element about it which could enlist the thousandth part of 158 EESULTS OF SUCH ABOLITION [CHAP. X. human hope and sympathy. In this aspect of the matter, it would surely seem that divine Providence has endowed us with ample means to obviate the difficulty. And noth- ing appears wanting but a candid estimate of the dangers on the one side, and the benefits upon the other, to insure a general willingness to employ them. The adoption of such a measure, in my humble judg- ment, would produce complete internal peace, and its future advantages would probably exceed the most sanguine cal- culation. 1. It would put down, at once and forever, the danger- ous, inflammatory, and revolutionizing plague of political abolitionism, which scatters firebrands throughout the land, and has already brought us to the awful verge of civil war. 2. It would restore the kind and fraternal spirit between the North and the South, and give a vast impulse to the influence and power of the Union. 3. It would relieve our Southern brethren from a very costly burden, give them the advantages of free labor, im- pi'ove their exhausted soil, deliver them from the inevitable risks of slave insui-rection, raise the price of their lands to treble or quadruple their present value, and bring to them, in crowds, the accession of new settlers, from the free States and from Europe, which the prevailing prejudice against slavery now keeps away. 4. It would elevate the character of our noble republic to the highest point, amongst all foreign nations, by remov- ing the only obstacle which hinders their confidence in our principles of human liberty. 5. It would furnish the most sublime example which the world has ever seen, by sending forth a million of emancl- GHAP. X.] TO THE UNION AND TO ATEICA. 159 pated slaves, under proper officers, to regenerate the land of their fathers, to raise up poor degraded Africa from hea- then darkness and barbarity, and open that golden conti- nent to the blessings of Christianity, civilization, and com- merce. There is the proper home of the negro race, since it is the only race adapted to the climate. And there must the happy consummation be effected, which divine Provi- dence seems to have intended in the great work of Southern slavery. For those negroes could not have been qualified for such a mission, if they had not first learned, in the South, the lessons of sacred truth and moral principle. And they could not have had the opportunity of thus learn- ing, unless their fathers had been placed in the condition of bondmen. And the elevation conferred on them could have produced no correspondent influence on Africa, un- less they had been sent, by the beneficence of the United States, to that benighted region, and thus enabled to estab- lish themselves in the full enjoyment of freedom, and lead its pagan tribes to the knowledge of religion, arts, and government. Surely no reflecting American can dwell upon the result vdthout a thrill of grateful exultation, when he contemplates a chain of prosperous negro communities, framed upon our own model, and planted along the old slave coast ; when he thinks of Liberia, multiplied a hun- dred-fold, beholding her kindred tribes coming to the light of the Gospel, and learning the benefits of education, of order, and of law; and when he can look to the noble 'energy of his own United States, and challenge the ex- perience of mankind to show such a glorious product of generous zeal, for the best interests of humanity. But who, among our men of influence and talent, will rise up, with a heart of genuine patriotism, and cast him- 160 CONGEKSS SHOULD BEGIN. [cHAP. X. self into the breach between opposing parties, and risk his own character for courage and consistency, in the effort to reconcile them to an enterprise like this ? Alas ! it is a hard thing at all times to induce even the best and most gifted to lay aside their personal interests and prejudices, and consult, in a large and comprehensive spirit, for the public good. But far harder is it when the conflict has long been raging with bitterness, and the temper of accom- modation has been consumed by the fierce blaze of excited passions. Yet it does not become any true American to despair of the republic. If our sins have not provoked the Almighty to chasten us sorely in His displeasure, the men will be raised up, fitted for the diflScult task of mediation ; and a new day will open upon the rising waves of the po- litical tempest, bearing the promise of sunshine and of calm. For myself, I should anticipate a good result with much confidence, if the eminent statesmen of Virginia, " the Old Dominion," united with the patriots of Kentucky, her fa- vorite child, were roused to take the initiative in this all- important subject. In both these States the topic of aboli- tion has been discussed long years ago, and they have not forgotten the sentiments of Jefferson, and Randolph, and Henry Clay. But it is my own strong conviction that the floor of Congress is the proper field for laying the founda- tion of this noble enterprise. It is there that the South can ask the North whether they are willing to pay their just share of the cost of abolition. It is there that they can frankly offer, with the best grace, to form a committee of the ablest and purest men, to recommend some plan of rad- ical and permanent efiiciency. * And if the spring of heal- ing waters can only be made to rise in that common centre of our nation's councils, the streams will flow down from OHAP. XI.] EIGHTS OF THE CITIZEN. 161 one legislature to another, and the parched roots of our old Union wUl sprout in all their youthful vigor, and gladden the land once more with the blessed fruits of harmony and peace. CHAPTEK XI. THE EIGHTS AND DUTIES OF THE AMEEICAN CITIZEN WITH EE- GAED TO SLATEET. If my readers have perused, with attention, the previous chapters, they will be at no loss to determine the principles which should regulate their rights and duties. But for the sake of consistency with the form in which my humble work has been constructed, I shall proceed, as before, to state them briefly. 1. The American citizen has a right to form his personal opinions on the subject of slavery, provided that he does so fairly and honestly, without prejudice or passion, after a due examination of the question, with a just reverence for the sacred Scriptures, a proper respect for his revolutionary fathers, and a faithful regard for the Constitution and the laws of his country. But he has no right to form his opinion unfairly, by list- ening only to the exaggerated accounts of absconding slaves, while he refuses to hear the statement of their own- ers. For every man of common sense must know that a slave escaped from his master cannot possibly be received as an impartial witness in his own cause ; and even if he were, it is the settled rule of justice that no one can decide the merits of any case, until he has given a full hearing to both the parties. 162 EIGHTS OF THE CITIZEN. [cHAP. XI. Much less can he have a right to appeal to a " higher law," above the Bible, or to vilify that Bible because it sanctions slavery, or to wrest its plain and fair meaning, which was understood in the same way by all Christendom until our own day ; or to fancy himself better acquainted with the will of God, than all the saints and martyrs who have lived before him. Such perversions as these are not adopted by rigM^ but by presumption ; and it is not easy to say whether their impiety or their absurdity is the more revolting. 2. The American citizen has a right to believe that, with- out assailing the lawfulness of slavery, it is nevertheless highly expedient that it should be done away, as soon as it can be disposed of legally, peacefully, and justly, with due regard to the permanent interests of all the parties ; and, consequently, he has a right to discuss that question, in a friendly and a kindly spirit, and to seek for the enactment of such laws as may best accomplish the object desired. But he has no right to abuse the Constitution, to trample it under foot, to resist the laws of the land, to oppose the officers of justice, to rescue the fugitive slave, or to vilify and threaten the master, who only seeks to recover the pos- session which legally belongs to him. Such acts as these are not rights, but outrages. They prostrate the whole power, on which, under God, our lives and liberty depend. For that power is the law, and we can rely on no other ; and if the law be openly spurned at the will of an excited mob, where is the security of the people ? 3. The American citizen has also the right, of course, to form the contrary opinion, that slavery is not only lawfal and expedient, with reference to the past, but that it is equally expedient for the future ; and thus believing, he CSA?. XI.] DtTTTES OF THE CmZEN. 163 may consistently labor, peaceably and fearlessly, in support of the system, and oppose by fair argument every effort to do it away. But he has no right to threaten, on this account, the rup- ture of the Union, since that is only another way of tram- pling on the Constitution, and opening the floodgates of civil war. He has no right to employ either fraud or force to influence the election in a territory, nor to lay his hand on the property or persons of abolitionists, without the reg- ular authority of law. Neither has he any right to inflame the public mind to the work of sedition, or to encourage the fierce spirit of discord by words or acts of angry defiance, instead of striving to allay it by the counsels of wisdom and of peace. Above all, he has no right to invade the dignity and order of our highest legislature, by a personal assault upon the antagonists of slavery, since this is an open breach of every law, both human and divine. These remarks may suffice on the rights, and therefore I pass on to the duties of the American citizen, with regard to this most difficult and distracting question. 1. And first, I consider it his duty to be just, and fair, and generous, and patient, towards those who differ from him. After all, there is no reason to doubt that every party in- tends what is right, although they view the subject in such discordant aspects. That these aspects are very numerous and complicated, must be admitted by every reflecting mind ; and it needs much discussion, and no small amount of time and observation, to understand the whole. But the victory of truth, though often delayed, is certain, if men will endeavor to attain it, without asperity or bitterness ; and therefore every citizen should examine the question in the spirit of wise impartiality, of charity, and moderation. 164 Dtrms of the citizen. [chap. xi. 2. It is next his duty to stand np, firmly and openly, in support of the law, since a due respect for this is the only basis of public or private security. He may approve the law or not. He may justify its enactment, or he may wish it were repealed. But its authority is not to be measured by the scale of his opinions, nor by those of hundreds like him- self. So long as it is the law, so long it is the bounden duty of the citizen to obey it, and precisely for that very reason, iecause it is the law • and he who resists it places himself, for the time, in the position of a rebel against his govern- ment and his country, violates his oath of allegiance, and exposes the whole fabric of social order to the fearful in- roads of anarchy and ruin. 3. It is his duty, in the third place, to guard himself against excitement, in order that he may exercise his judg- ment and use his influence beneficially, in the defence of truth. For the best and clearest minds are no longer to be trusted when the-feelings are intensely roused ; and men will speak and act a thousand dangerous things under the sway of passion, which they would be ready, in their cooler mo- ments, to acknowledge and deplore. 4. And, lastly, it is the^ duty of the American citizen to remember that this subject of slavery is the most deeply important and complicated question of our day, and should therefore be approached under the profound sense of solemn responsibility. It involves the majesty of the Constitution, the obligation of the laws, the dignity of sovereign States, the welfare of millions, both of the African race and of our own ; the peace, the prosperity, and the very existence of the Union. Never should it be approached with levity, with prejudice, or with arrogant presumption. JSTever should it be made the stalking-horse for party politics, or the excuse CHAP. XII.] THE TRUE SPIEIT. 165 for popular displays of oratorical declamation. On the con- trary, it demands the spirit of religious reverence, of en- lightened philanthropy, and of patriotic devotion to the pub- lic good. God, in His wise Providence, has sanctioned it for a beneficent purpose. When that purpose is sufl3ciently accomplished, the same divine Providence will doubtless do it away. Meanwhile, it is our highest privilege, as well as duty, to work with God, and not against Him. May He hasten the time when His people shall be of one accord, in favor of its peaceful, just, and gradual abolition ; when the South and the North shall rejoice together in the same sys- tem of liberty and law, and the whole world shall behold the happy fruits of slavery in the regeneration of Africa fi'om her long bondage of barbarism and idolatry. CHAPTEE XII. * ON BUSINESS. Having now considered sufGciently, as I trust, the two first heads of the rights and duties of the American citizen, under the titles of Religion and Politics, in pursuance of the plan laid down, I invite my readers next to the subject of Business. In its proper sense, business stands for the regu- lar occupation of the individual, with a view to his main- tenance or his office. "We say, therefore, that a man has given up business, when he retires from his former professed employment, to live in the enjoyment of his fortune. And yet, if he afterwards devote his time to a systematic pur- suit of art, science, or philanthropy, we say that he makes it his Imsiness. The meaning, however, in this case, is not 166 CHOICE OF BUSINESS. [CBAP. XH, that the iadividtial has entered into business again; but only that he follows his new object with the same daily ap- plication as if it were his business, and thus makes it his iusiness by adopting it as a substitute. There is, nevertheless, a distinction generally understood which limits the term iusiness to manufactures and com- merce. Hence the phrase " man of business" does not apr ply to the farmer, nor to the mechanic, the tailor, the shoe- maker, or the blacksmith. Neither is it appropriated to the, professions — the lawyer, the doctor, or the clergyman ; nor is it given to literary men, to the oflBcers of justice, to the judges, to the heads of the departments in the government, or to the clerks in the public service. And yet all these have their several business, in strictness of speech. For every employment in life, in which men profess themselves to be regularly and systematically lusied, is their husiness. And hence I have taken the word in the widest sense as the general title of the present division, under which I purpose to consider the rights and duties, with regard to business, of the American citizen. These rights and duties may be clas- sified as general and specific ; the first, belonging equally to every kind of occupation, and the second, concerning the peculiar difficulties of certain particular avocations. The present chapter is devoted to the first general right, viz. : The Choice of our Susiness, or Profession. It was the law in ancient Egypt, that every son must follow the business of his father. And a similar rule ha§ obtained in other despotic countries. Happily, we are quite free from any restraint in this respect, and our youth are allowed to pursue their own inclinations. Yet it may not be amiss to point out some advantages which certainly be- CHAP. XII.] CHOICE OF BUSINESS. 167 longed to the ancient system, however common it may be to prefer a very diflFerent one in our day. The object in view, when a youth chooses his business, is to apply himself to that occupation which shall best insure his support and comfort in life, according to his capacity and circumstances. And there are very few lawful occu- pations which may not suffice to his support and comfort, if he conduct himself with diligence, intelligence, and per- severing industry. As a general rule, it would seem natm-al to expect that the business of the father should be preferred, because the son is accustomed to hear and see more of it than of any other. This early association is sure to take place, in the cases of the farmer, and of the various trades. The child grows up surrounded by the objects of his parent's toils ; he learns how to handle the implements, and usually to do a portion of the work. Insensibly, his ideas, habits, and manners acquire the tone of the home circle. Long before the age of maturity, he attains a considerable degree of skill in his father's calling ; and it appears almost a necessary result that he should adopt this, rather than any unknown occupation. This course would seem natural for another reason, namely, that he can usually follow it without leaving the society of his family. There, he is amongst relatives and friends ; elsewhere, he must be suiTOunded by »trangers. There, he can be comparatively at his ease ; abroad, he must be always under restraint, and fearful of offending. And there is yet another ground on which the choice of his father's business would seem to be most acceptable : for the way to success is usually far more open to him in this than in any other — ^not only because he already knows it to 168 CHOICE OF BUSINESS. [CHAP. XH. a great extent, but because he is sure to have all the bene- fit of his parent's experience. He can come into possession, by and by, of the farm or the shop, by an easy and natural transition. He has a security of a certain number of friends, helpers, and customers. There are none of the obstructions in his path, which must be expected in any other quarter. And therefore it would seem that early association, habit, feeling, affection, and interest, are all united in favor of such an election. And yet, observation proves that this course is very rare, amongst the youth of our age and country. For the most part, the business of the father is not chosen by the son. It may be well to inquire why it is, that the theory and the practice, in this matter, accord so ill together. I believe it may be oM'ing to a combination of causes, very commonly existing, and very easily understood ; although their opera- tion on the mind and sympathies of their subject is seldom rightly apprehended. In the first place, parental authority, in too many in- stances, has gone out of fashion ; and in the absence of this, home has lost much of its proper character. The father leaves to the mother the management of the children. The mother, for the most part, has no idea of governing her boy when young. And when he grows older, she no longer has the power. Hence self-will, contradiction, and ill tem- per are bift too apt to counteract the principles of filial love and duty. In a few years, the child becomes a youth. But he takes no pains to gratify his parents. He gives his confidence to others, and uses his father's house as a tavern, for eating and sleep. For he has persuaded himself that happiness is only to be found in the society of strangers, without dreaming of the reason, namely, that he takes far CHAP. Xn.] MISTAKES OF PAEENTS. 169 more interest in making himself acceptable to them, than in giving pleasure to his own family. As it respects the effect of early association with his fa- ther's business, it is too commonly found to be repulsive, because the boy is brought up to be wilful and disobedient, and therefore the youth makes no effort to accommodate himself to his circumstances, with cheerfulness and indus- try. He learns to connect the labor of home with ill hu- mor and complaint, without reflecting that he provokes them by his total want of filial principle. And he naturally acquires a disgust for work, which, through his own fault, is never accompanied with praise, but, on the contrary, with censure. All this is apt to be more sure of its effect, when it is united with the habit of repining over their troubles, and exaggerating the hardships of their business, which parents are too often accustomed to indulge in the presence of their children. This, of itself, would be enough to make the sons regard it with aversion ; but when it is added to the other grounds of dissatisfaction, we cannot wonder that the great majority of our young men become perfectly con- vinced of the annoyances and disadvantages of their fa- ther's calling, and instead of adopting that, resolve to de- vote themselves to something else, as unlike it as possible ; while the parents willingly indulge them, in the hope that they will act more wisely in the hands of strangers, than they have ever done at home. There is another cause, however, which has doubtless a far greater influence upon the ordinary inclinations of our youth, and operates even on those who are trained on bet- ter principles. And that is, the natural impulse of ambi- tion. The village boy discovers very early, that notwith- 8 170 TOUTHFTTL AMBITION. [CHAP. XH. slanding the Declaration of Independence asserts the equal- ity of all men, there is nevertheless a vast amount of ine- quality in their social position. He sees the storekeeper's clerk looking more like a gentleman than the son of the farmer or mechanic, and the young collegian holding him- self higher still ; while the student of law or medicine is plainly on the topmost step of the ladder to jjromotion. He knows the men who take the lead and play the orator at public meetings, and become the candidates for public of- fices, and get their names into the papers, and so shine lik6 stars in the social firmament. And learning thus much even in the quiet of a country settlement, his ideas take a still loftier flight when he visits, or hears the accounts of those who have visited, the large cities of the land, where wealth, and pleasure, and luxury astonish the youthfkl rus- tic with a splendor of magnificence beyond all previous conception. Perhaps, too, a more powerful impulse in the same direction is produced by his reading the monthly magazines, which may be seen, of late years, in the house of almost every farmer. For there he finds interesting novellettes about lords and ladies, high life and fashion, ro- mance and sentiment ; all tending to cast a strong disgust over the daily circle of his home associations, even when they are of the happiest kind ; and tempting him to yearn after that great world which lies beyond, and glitters to his inexperienced eyes with such varied hues of fascination. Alas, poor youth ! how little does he dream of the ob- stacles, the risks, the contests, the delusions, and the suffer- ings which lie before him! How little can he imagine that the home which Providence has given him, if cherished as it ought to be, has more of the true elements of human happiness than all that the world is likely to be'stox*- ! Hot^ CHAP, ill.] ANCIENT EtftE. 171 little can he sllSpect that even the few who succeed in the struggle for its riches, its honors, and its pleasures, are forced to acknowledge, at last, the hollowness, the empti- ness, the bitter disappointment which attend the whole! But this is a lesson which is rarely taught or learned, until the sad reality is known, and the battle of life is almost ended. Seldom, indeed, even then, can we find an exam- ple of that true wisdom, enlightened from above, which es- timates the value of our circumstances, not by the standard of fame, of fashion, or extravagant display, but by that of piety, peace, and contented usefulness. The same pride which first ronsed the boy's ambition, continues to blind the man to the end of the most successful career. And he thinks that he has achieved the noblest object of desire, if he has been enabled to rear a family in the enervating in- dulgences of wealth, and leave behind him money enough to rain his posterity. Now it is very easy to conceive how the ancient law, which obliged the son to follow the business of the parent, must have operated to counteract these dangers. For un- der that system of compulsion, the main point was settled from the first, and so settled as to insure the intentions of every family, to live, to labor, and to thrive together. Here was the strong motive of necessity, to make home what it ought to be. The ambition of the boy was forced to unite itself with the authority of the father, and thus as- sisted in making him an obedient, cheerful, and trustworthy helper in the general welfare. The business was likely to prosper under this unity of government and of interest. And the tendency of the whole must have exercised a sal- utary influence in favor of peace, contentment, and domestic afifection. 172 THE fatheb's business. [chap. xn. But my readers may say that it is a mere waste of thouglit to speculate about a system, which is so totally opposed to the free spirit of our age and country. And I confess that at first sight it appears so. My object, however, in advert- ing to it, is to give weight to the leading principle which I would lay down, in the choice of a business or profession. For while I should be as much averse as any one to the restoration of the old compulsion in this matter, yet I have no doubt that, as a general rule, our youth would act most wisely and happily for themselves and the com- munity, by adopting the business or profession of their fathers. 1. In the first place, they would learn it with more facil- ity, because it would fall in with all their early associations, and they would be sure to have the best, most thorough, and most kindly instruction. 2. Next, they would learn it most happily, because it would surround them with the affection and confidence of family and home, which, notwithstanding their manifold imperfections, are the strongest and most enduring ties in this world of trial. 3. Thirdly, they would be saved from the innumerable mortifications, disappointments, and temptations which are likely to attend their inexperience among strangers. 4. And lastly, they would secure the easiest and the sur- est introduction to the confidence of the community, which is so essential to their ultimate success. Of course, however, as I would recommend this only as the best general rule, it must be open to many exceptions. It would not apply, for example, to those numerous cases of necessity, where the son is compelled to leave the pa- rental roof, or where the father is deceased, or where, OHAP. XII.] EXCEPTIONS. 173 though living, he has no business in which he can support his children. Neither would it apply where the son is evidently dis- qualified for it, by ill health or mental weakness on the one hand, or by a marked talent or genius for a different pro- fession on the other. In such cases. Providence has inter- posed a bar, and it is wisdom in man not to thwart the in- 'dication. Other exceptions will likewise occur, from various mo- tives of preference dictated by convenience, relationship, and interest. But still, as a general rule, there is none so safe as that which I have stated, and none which can be so well verified on the broadest scale of experience and obser- vation. For the most part, mankind, by nature, are equally fit for any occupation. The difference lies in their education and training, and in the diligence, integrity, and industry with which they carry it on. The cases of unfitness from mental imbecility are rare, and those of marked talent and genius are yet rarer. The youth who is thinking of the choice of a business or profession, may usually take it for granted that he can succeed in any which is placed within his reach, provided this essential agency of diligence, in- tegrity, and industry be not wanting. And he may be quite sure that if these be wanting, no amount of talent or fortu- itous concurrence of circumstances can be expected to save him from total failure. But I would warn him to beware how he rejects, with- out necessity, the business or profession of his father. For the most part, this is put completely within his reach, and the providence of God has given it a sort of right to his first consideration. Let no disgust turn him aside from it, 174 DOMESTIC INFLUENCE. [CHAP. ^. without good reason. Let no youthful companions influ- ence him to despise his family and his home. Let no vis- ions of romance delude him to pursue a phantom. He cannot, in general, begin the business of life in any other way, so wisely and so well, as by his father's side, and in his father's occupation. And even if it should ultimately prove that he is qualified for higher eminence in a dif- ferent path, he may rest assured that the order of Prov- idence will open it in due time, after he has attained suffi- cient maturity of principle and experience to enter upon it safely. And I would warn parents to beware how they expose their sons to the common perils of early waywardness and alienation, by a neglect of those wholesome rules of domes- tic government, religion, and affectionate harmony, without which no home can be made safe or pleasant to the younger members of the family. The mother must ijistil the virtue of obedience in the nm'sery, and continue her discipline until it is the settled habit of the child, and then it will need no further trouble. The father must set before his sons in all respects, and strictly enforce, the example which they should follow. For if there be, in the family circle, no authority to govern, no social concord of mutual kind- ness to attract, and no spirit of loving religion to shed its pure light vrithin the dwelling, the alienation of the sons will follow as a matter of com-se, and bring along with it the usual sad but natural consequences — danger and suffer- ing to the self-banished youth, and bereavement and sorrow to the parents. ISTor can I leave this prolific subject without a further caution to fathers and mothers^, on the temper with which they bear their appointed lot. If they wish their sons to OHAP. Xn.] EIGHTS OB" AMERICAN TOtTTH. 175 remain and take a cheerful part in the business of the fam- ily, they must not repine, and fret over the troubles, toils, and disappointments, to which every occupation is liable. On the contrary, they must bear their burdens with patience and good-humor, make as light of them as they can, and cherish a spirit of pious thankfulness for the advantages and comforts which remain, notwithstanding these drawbacks upon their prosperity. They must talk of their business, as a general rule, with commendation, dwell upon its bright side, and teach their rising family to love it, by loving it themselves. In this way, the bent of their sons will usu- ally be inclined rightly, and they will voluntarily prefer, at the proper time, their father's vocation, unless there should be good reasons, which all the parties can approve, for a different decision. I conclude this chapter by a brief application to the rights and duties of the American citizen, in the choice of a business or profession. 1. The youth who comes to the proper age for choosing his business, is usually in his minority, and therefore, legal- ly, under the control of his father. But practically, he is allowed to make his own choice, by the sanction of his fa- ther, and therefore I shall consider the position of the party himself, as being chiefly responsible. He has a right, then, to choose his business for hfe, since his father concedes it to him ; but he must remember, that as this right is his only by the grant of his parent, it should be exercised with a filial regard to the parental judgment. It is a bad beginning for any young man, to commence his own independent course in opposition to him who is, by re- ligion and nature, as well as law, his guardian and pro- tector ; and he may be well assured, that a course so com- 176 DUTIES OF AMERICAN YOUTH. [CHAP. XH. menced will rarely fail to be marked with misfortune and self-reproach, if it do not end in utter ruin. The duties which attend upon the exercise of this right come next to be considered, and these are obvious and unquestionable. 1. It is his duty to pray for guidance to the Almighty, who alone can see the end from the beginning, and deter- mine unerringly what line of life he is best fitted to pursue with comfort to himself and benefit to others ; and, in con- nection with prayer, he should advise with his parents and his experienced friends, whose judgment is most likely to assist him in this serious and important question. 2. In reflecting on the choice, it is next his duty to at- tach but small importance to his present taste or fancy. For this may have arisen from his partiality to a favorite companion, or from some transient impression, which will soon pass away ; while a mistake in his selection cannot fail to produce many lasting consequences, involving loss of time, loss of credit, and possibly loss of character. His safest course, as I have already shown, is to choose the business of his father, and his next safest is to take such other calling as his father and friends approve. 3. But whatever business he selects, it is his duty to pur- sue it with faithfulness, diligence, and thorough application. He must understand that this is the only way by which he can give satisfaction to his employers or instructors, estab- lish his own credit, and lay the foundation for success. Nothing in the shape of recreation or amusement, however innocent in itself, must be suffered to interfere with the claims of his business. Whatever sacrifices of inclination may be required, he must make them promptly and cheer- fully ; and he should seek the resolution necessary for this, by depending on his heavenly Father, who has promised OHAP. xn.] DUTIES OF AMEEICAN YOUTH. 177 His all-powerful aid to those that ask it, through faith in the Eedeemer. 4. Some time, however, of course, he will have, for prop- er recreation ; and his advancement and success in life will depend greatly on the way in which he spends it. It is his duty, in this, to remember his responsibility. He must be careful to avoid all intimate companionship with young men of dissipated habits. He should abstain conscien- tiously from places and amusements of disreputable char- acter, never doing in darkness what he would be ashamed of in open day. He must be manly enough to bear, with- out flinching, the jests and sneers which profligates are apt to utter against all who are better than themselves. He must punctiliously avoid running into debt, and confine himself honestly within his proper income. Most firmly should he repel every form and shape of intemperance, ga- ming, and libertinism. And in order that he may have a reasonable prospect of withstanding the numerous tempta- tions which will be sm'e to attend his youthful course, he should connect himself with some Church, consecrate his Sabbaths to their proper duties, and begin and end each day in faith and prayer. 5. Lastly, it will be his duty to guard against idle and pernicious reading. He should be aware that books are companions for the time, and the most dangerous compan- ions, if they inculcate corruption. Here, however, he can make a free choice, with the help of his wise and enlight- ened friends to aid him in his selection. History, Geog- raphy, Travels, Biography, the Natural Sciences, sound poetry, and novels of pure and established character, will supply copious improvement for his leisure hours, and pre- pare his mind for the higher intercourse of society. But 8» 178 THE MAN OF BUSINESS. [CHAP. XHI. among tliem all, if he would be truly wise, and secure to himself the best success for the interests of time and of eternity, let him suffer no day to pass without reading rev- erentially a portion of the Book of books — the Bible. The young American citizen who commences his busi- ness or his profession on these principles, and steadfastly adheres to them, may confidently trust that prosperity will attend him. Not that he can expect to escape trials, disap- pointments, and afflictions, from time to time. The life of man must necessarily have more or less of these, under the best of circumstances ; and they are wisely appointed to teach us the virtues of patience, resignation, fortitude, and perseverance in faith and duty. But he will be brought victoriously through the whole, if he keep in the track of diligent integrity ; and his days will be lengthened in honor, and end in hope and peace. CHAPTER XIII. THE EIGHTS AND DUTIES OF THE MAN OF BUSINESS, WITH EE- SPECT TO HIS SUBOEDINATES. I HAVE considered the case of the youth, who has chosen his business, and is in a subordinate position under the au- thority of others. And I shall next ask the attention of my readers to the Tnan, established as a principal, and having many others under him, on whose faithfulness he is obliged, in great measure, to depend, and with respect to whom he has not only rights to demand, but duties to perform ; some of these duties being of the most important kind, through very liable to be neglected and forgotten. OHAP. Xm.] DUTY OF EMPLOYEES. 179 Loo^, for instance, at the manufacturer, with fifty or a hundred operatives, or the merchant, with a large company of clerks, or the publisher, with a troop of workmen, or any other individual whose lot in life is such as to make him the employer and paymaster of many of his fellow- creatures. It is obvious that such a man fills an office of real authority and power, and may exercise a considerable amount of infiuence, either for good or evil, upon the char- acter, conduct, and destiny of those who are placed under his control. It is true, indeed, that he employs them, and they serve him, only on the ground of pecuniary interest. They un- dertake certain duties and labors, and he undertakes to pay them the stipulated price. They are free to leave him when they will, and he is free to discharge them at his pleasure. Thus far, the engagement is a matter of simple contract, and if that contract be fulfilled, the law of the laud can exact nothing more. But there is another law which bears upon the Christian's conscience, commanding him to do unto others as he would they should do unto him. And there is, besides, the high social piinciple which comes directly within the scope of these essays. For I have undertaken to exhibit the rights and duties of the American citizen. I have shown that every such citizen is z. partner in the republic. And therefore it results, of ne- cessity, that as a citizen of that republic, he is more or less concerned in the character and conduct of his fellow-citi- zens ; and is responsible for the duty of making them faith- ful and useful members of the community, so far as he has the power. Like every other duty, this is easily shown to be in accordance with his individual interest. For society is sq 8» 180 TEUE INTEEEST OF EMPLOYEES. [CHAP. XHI. constituted that no man is able, whatever his wealth or his position may be, to stand in proud independence, aloof from those around him. The peaceful security of each is liable to be invaded, at any moment, by the evil passions of others ; and a single act of injustice, or word of insult, may be avenged by the sacrifice of life. A workman, defrauded or oppressed, may become an incendiary. A hired servant, too humble to be valued as a friend, may prove to be a most efiective enemy. All experience has demonstrated that the terrors of the law can avail nothing, when the spirit of disorder and lustful cujjidity is let loose among the people. The only real and steadfast guardian of prop- erty and life itself, under divine Providence, must be found in the general prevalence of religious and moral principle. And therefore he who has a wide control over a body of dependents is working against himself, as well as against the community, if he fail to treat them with just and kind consideration. While, on the other hand, he surrounds his prosperity with a strong defence, if he be able to com- mand their confidence and affection. The maxim of the Gospel, I need hardly say, is founded upon the most consummate justice, when it declares that " of him to whom much is given, much will be required." The same rule, substantially, is admitted univei'sally by mankind. Wherever there is power, there must also be re- sponsibility. And the extent of this responsibility can only be rightly measured by the extent of the power. In precise proportion, therefore, to the amount of good which the man in prosperous business has it in his power to do, by the promotion of virtue, intelligence, and comfort amongst his dependents ; in the same proportion he is bound, not only as a Christian, but as an American citizen, to do OHAP. Xin.] CAEELESSNES3 OF EMPLOYEES. 181 it. As a merchant, a manufacturer, or an employer in any- other way, he has a right to insist on the fulfilment of their duty towards himself. But as their fellow-citizen, he must aid them to perform their duty to the community. Take, for example, the ordinary case of a merchant, in one of our large cities, surrounded by his clerks and ap- prentices. For a certain portion of every week-day they must be at their post, and punctually devote their allotted share of industry and attention to his business. And when this is done, he may give himself no farther concern about them, and feel no interest whatever in their safety or their welfare. He knows that they are generally young, and encompassed by temptation. He knows that many of them have come from the country, and are quite inexperienced in the ways of the world. He knows that the characters of nearly all are yet in the stage of formation, when they may be easily inclined either to good or evil. But he keeps them at a distance, makes no friendly inquiry about the mode in which they spend their leisure on the Sabbath, or into the moral standing of those with whom they have ta- ken up their abode ; and contents himself with paying the stipulated value of their services, without the slightest sense of responsibility for any further act of kindness, or human sympathy. Such is one picture of life, which is unhappily too common. Now let lis imagine a different aspect of the relation be- tween the employer and the employed. Suppose the pros- perous merchant to be a man of Christian principle and feeling, awake to a high sense of his duty as " a partner in the republic" — a genuine American citizen. He regards the youthful company around him as heirs, with himself, of immortal happiness, if they be led to submit to the divine 182 KmDLINESS OF EMPLOYEES. [OHAP. XIH. Saviour of the world, and this gives him an interest in their religious welfare. And he also beholds in them the sons of the commonwealth, his fellow-citizens, in whose moral char- acter and habits the whole community, himself included, have a direct stake, of far more importance than the amount of their salary. In his eyes, therefore, they stand con- nected with him in other and loftier relations, than the mere contract for their services. He considers himself bound to them not only as an employer, but as a friend. He cherishes a kindly personal sympathy in all that con- cerns their true and lasting welfare. He invites them to come to him in confidence, as their adviser and helper in every difficulty. He inquires into their personal circum- stances, obtains for them a seat in the house of God, lends to them useful and improving books, gathers them together occasionally at his own house, and gives them some pleasant evenings of social intercourse. And thus he binds them to himself, in the generous bonds of affectionate attachment. He guards them against all the snares which lie in wait for their inexperience. He trains them up, not only as faith- ful men of business, but as the disciples of Christ, and the supporters of the public welfare. And while, by this course, he insures the best possible performance of their duties towards himself, he becomes the benefactor of their im- mortal hopes, the guide of their earthly prosperity, and the protector of the community and the republic, to the extent of his ability. The contrast here is surely marked enough to satisfy any reflecting mind, without any further argument. But there is another phase of conduct which demands a passing notice, be- cause there are not a few examples of sordid cupidity in the land, offensive to the lowest sense of humanity and justice. CHAP. Xni.] EASE MODES OF GAIN. J 83 "We hear of cases wliere the weaker sex are cruelly and shamefully imposed on, by the criminal oppression of their employers. " The Song of the Shirt" has given a painful celebrity to that class of social tyrants, who draw their blood-stained income from the very lives and hearts of their miserable victims. "We hear of the slow but certain death inflicted in the work-rooms, where the brilliant dresses of the opulent and fashionable are prepared by a daily and nightly drudgery, in comparison with which the islaves of the South might be said to enjoy a paradise of comfort. "We hear of men who make a business of renting -wretched hovels to the poor, from whom they wring the most unrighteous and inordinate profits, for accommoda- tions which are not fit for the very beasts to occupy. I shall not ask whether such persons are Christians, since the supposition that they could be, would be a libel on the reli- gion of the Saviour. But I ask whether they can be, in any true sense, citizens of our glorious republic ? Citizens — who live on the slow tortures of their fellows in the community ! Oitizens^who are making money out of the health, the morals, and the very lives of their laborera ! Citizens — who gain a vile profit from sufferings which force many a feeble victim into prostitution to keep soul and body together, after the paltry wages are expended that are earned by sixteen hours each day of unremitting toil ! ITo ! such men are not citizens, in the real character which belongs to that noble appellation, but vampires, preying on the life-blood of society. Their business is not business, in the legitimate meaning of the term, for it consists in the pillage of the poor. Their money is accursed, because it is coined out of the tears and sorrows of humanity. And no heart which is not utterly petrified by sordid selfishness can dwell upon 184 JTJSTICE TO OPEEATrVES. [cHAP. XJil. their course, without feeling a bitter pang in the thought that the mothers and daughters of our land should be ex- posed to such grinding oppression. I am aware that the wretchedly inadequate reward of certain kinds of female labor is said to be the result of com- petition, and that the employers cannot help it. But the answer is easy. They can help it if they choose. There is nothing to prevent them from meeting together, and agree- ing upon such rates as shall enable them to pay fair living wages to the poor women who depend upon them. The public would certainly not remonstrate against a just price for their garments, and the employers could have as good a profit then, as they have now. Indeed, there never can be a real necessity for oppression, cruelty, or inhumanity. And the pretence would vanish at once, before a little zeal- ous and well-directed effort. Naj, I doubt whether any individual is a gainer at last, even in this world, by the ne- farious custom of beating down the worker below a just point of compensation. The laborer is worthy of his hire, and the amount of that hii'e should always be enough for the necessaries of life. But here I may be reminded of the commercial maxim, that the value of every thing is just so much as it will bring. I have no objection to the rule. For ordinary purposes of ti-ade it is doubtless available. By no means, however, is it a rule vsdthout exception. There is a well-understood intrinsic value, which cannot always be obtained under peculiar circumstances, and yet, notwithstanding this, it remains the actual value still. If, for example, the prop- erty of an unfortunate debtor be sacrificed at sheriff's sale, every one admits that it has not brought its real worth in money, although, at the time, it would bring no more. In OHAP. Xin.] JUSTICE TO OPEKATIVES. 185 like manner, there may be circumstances in the crowded population of our large cities which compel females to sac- rifice their labor, and yet that labor may be intrinsically worth a far higher compensation. The true standard of value, as it seems to me, rests upon the principle, that so- ciety owes a reasonable subsistence to every individual who is able and willing to work for it during a fair proportion of each day. And in every case where this cannot be done, the parties are in a false position with regard to the com- munity, and the exactor of the labor commits not only a private but a public wrong. This is manifest upon a slight reflection. For the labor thus performed fails to support life, and therefore the la- borer must either sink, a victim to premature decay, or must have recourse to immoral and dishonest means of sup- plying the deficiency. In both of these results, a grievous injury is done to the individual, but not to the individual alone ; because society must either lose one of its members by an act of oppression, or it must suff"er from the crimes which are forced upon the individual by the stern hand of an artificial necessity. But no man has a right to de- prive society of its members, and no man has a right to tempt them to sin; and, therefore, no man can have a right to take the avails of human labor, without giv- ing the laborer the means of sustaining life in reasonable comfort. Another phase of this injustice bears upon its inevitable tendency to increase pauperism. For the miserable laborer, if death do not intervene too soon, must become eventu- ally a burden upon public charity, perhaps after years passed in unlawful and immoral practices. But no man has a right to conduct his business in a manner which thus 186 SUMMAET. [OHAF. XIH. degrades and debases those who toil in his service ; and no man has a right to create a destitution which casts upon the public the results of his own injustice. Hence it seems to me perfectly demonstrable, that the employer who takes advantage of an artificial necessity by withholding a living price from the laborer, is both a private and a public wrong- doer, although the complicated crime, like many others, be such that no human law can correct it. From these general principles, we may easily deduce the rights and duties of the employer, in the true aspect of the business of life. He has a right to insist on the faithful perfoi-mance of the stipulated work or labor of those whom he employs, to use all lawful means to enforce his just claims, and to pro- tect himself against idleness and imposition. But it is his duty to regard them as his fellows, in the sight of God, and in the relation of citizens. And there- fore he is bound to do for them all that he reasonably can, by the active care and influence which his circumstances enable him to exercise, in promoting their spiritual, moral, and temporal welfare. 1. First, then, he is under obligation to give them a fair, living price for their labor or service, such as he would deem just if he were in their place. 2. Next, he is bound to pay this price punctually, in money, instead of compelling them, as too many do, to take their wages in merchandise, often charged at a false and exaggerated value. 3. Thirdly, it is his duty to be their real friend and coun- sellor, to whom they may have recourse with entire confi- dence, in all their difficulties. For in no other way can he fulfil his responsibility before heaven, or guard from the CHAP. XIV.] CONDITION OF THE FAKMEE. 187 worst dangers, the peace and safety of the community in which he is a partner. 4. Fourthly, he is bound to set before them a good ex- ample, in all the religious, moral, and legal relations of life, which belong equally to every member of society. For how can he expect them to be just towards himself, if he will not be just to the Sovereign Master of the universe ? How can he ask them to be temperate. and sober, if he be dissipated? How can he hope that they will regard, as they ought, their families and homes, if he be a reckless and licentious despiser of his own domestic duty? _He should never forget, therefore, that his life is an open book to those around him, which they are always reading. And let him take heed that they find nothing there, but what may lead them to truth and virtue. CHAPTEE XIV. ON THE SPECIAL DANGEES OP VAEIOUS AVOCATIONS. The Farmer. EvEKT lawful occupation in life has some advantages to recommend its pursuit to the judgment of the individual, with reference, at least, to his peculiar circumstances ; and it is but reasonable to expect that it will also have its dan- gers and its difficulties. I propose to consider some of these, in the following chapters. And I commence with that which lies at the basis of the whole social fabric. The farmer supplies to the community " the staff of life," because he provides the materials of our food and clothing. 188 iDVA2JTAGES OF THE FARMER. [cHAP. XIV. Hence, of necessity, his was the first business appointed to man after the fall. Adam was a tiller of the ground. Abel was a shepherd. The patriarchs all followed agriculture. The chosen people, Israel, were specially distinguished in this, that the Almighty gave to every family its allotment of land ; and even the priesthood, though supported by the tithe, had a liberal allowance of soil around their cities. Nothing, therefore, -can be more evident than the antiqui- ty, the importance, and the substantial dignity of the farm- er's occupation. We know, moreover, from history, how fruitful it was of all the nobler virtues, on which depend the welfare and safety of society. Moses, the inspired lawgiver of Israel, was trained in all the learning of the Egyptians. Yet he was not commissioned to enter on his task, until he had spent forty years in keeping the flocks of his father-in-law, the priest of Midian. Gideon, one of the most eminent of the Judges, was threshing wheat, when he was called to be the deliverer of Israel. David, the eminent king of the chosen people, came from the work of the farm to the vic- tory over Goliath. Elisha, the famous prophet, was driving oxen, when Elijah took him to be his successor. The old Roman hero, Cincinnatus, was ploughing in his field, when he was summoned, by the decree of the Senate, to save the republic. And every American citizen must be familiar with the names of those patriots of the Eevolution, who laid down the implements of husbandry, to assert the rights and to wield the victorious sword of freedom. Happily for om- country, therefore, the main pillar of its strength is our agricultural population. The farmers are our real landed proprietors, and constitute the most perma- nent aristocracy of our country. And hence there is no CHAP. XIV.] ADVAKTAGK8 OF THS FAEMBE. 189 class whose virtue and intelligence are of more vital import- ance to the public welfare ; and none who can be trusted, with more absolute confidence, to sustain the principles of the Constitution. There is no difficulty in perceiving the reasons why this occupation, above all others, should be deemed favorable to the qualities of a good American citizen. The farmer who is the owner of the soil, is called to the exercise of manly independence by the very circumstances of his position; while he is accustomed to act with those who are as inde- pendent as himself, and thus learns, at once, to protect his own rights, and to pay due regard to the rights of others. His labors bring him into the closest intercourse with the works of God in nature, and he owes his success to the bounty of Providence in the most direct and simple form ; because he is priveleged to depend for his harvest upon the soil, the rains, the dews, the sun, and the propitious aspect of the seasons ; with no superior to dictate, no humors or fashions to interfere, no popular tastes to thwart his calcula- tions, no competition or strife to disappoint his hopes, and no change in the financial or the political world, to threaten him with failm-e. His condition is therefore especially adapted to cherish the strong and robust energy of principle and habit; to invigorate the domestic affections, in con- junction with industry and forethought; and to maintain strictly, all the old established maxims of law and order. "While his freedom from the dissipation and over-excite- ment of city life, his early hours, and his systematic labors in the open air, give tone to his physical frame, and enable him to act with unfailing vigor of nerve, according to the plan which his judgment has approved. Notwithstanding these manifest advantages, however, the 190 DANGEES OF THE FAEMEE. [cHAP. XtV. farmer is liable to some peculiar diflficulties of whicli he should be well aware ; and to these I would next invite Haf reader's attention. He is in danger of neglecting the cultivation of his mind, through the engrossing nature of his toils dming the busy season of the year ; and hence, his views are apt to be too narrow and contracted, and his conversation too much con- fined to his cattle and his crops, and the political range of the village newspaper. He is in danger of carrying too far the careless simplicity of his domestic manners and habits, imtil they settle ddwn into an awkward rusticity which prevents him from feeling comfortable and at ease in the society of gentlemen; al- though there may be very few of those gentlemen superior or even equal to himself, in real elevation of character Or principle. The result of these two difficulties is, thirdly, the dangef ' of losing the proper influence in his own family and neigh- borhood, to which he might otherwise be entitled, and to keep him back from a large circle of usefulness which he might worthily occupy. And hence arises the general dis- like to his business which his sons and daughters are so apt to manifest, as if it were impossible, in the nature of things, that a man should depend for his living on the cultivation of the ground, without being necessarily condemned to a life of ignorance and vulgarity. But in reality, this is a false conclusion. That there iS no such necessity in the case, every one conversant with the farmers of the Eastern States, especially, must be abun- dantly aware. I have known many instances of successful industry and even wealth amongst them, where the diligent toil of the busiMSs tvas faithfully pursufed, while tet tiie G&AP. XIV.] HOW TO AVOID THOSE DANGERS. 191 ■ parties were endowed with a knowledge of books, and men, arid manners, suflBcient to bear a candid comparison with the average of the educated and refined, and to stand well in any position which they might be called to fill. There is no good reason why such should not be the gen- eral condition of the American farmer, if the course fol- lowed by these bright examples were properly appreciated. The whole difficulty might be obviated by a steady efi'ort to adjust the labors of the body to the improvement of the mind, so that neither of these be allowed to encroach too far upon the other, and both may go on prosperously to- gether. The true dignity of labor is a fact, as well as a principle. But in order to understand its practical value, we must re- member that it embraces all the elements of the human constitution. God has endowed us with a compound nature. He has given us a soul, a mind, and a body ; and labor is the indispensable condition of welfare to the whole. The attainment of a just balance in the faculties of each, is the perfection of humanity. And an undue devotion to one, in disregard of the others, is sure to produce disease, sufter- ing, and sorrow. The mercy of Providence has so ordered our lot that we may, if we will, cultivate them all, in mu- tual harmony. And we may safely assume this as a rale, to which the occupation of the farmer, at least, presents no exception. For, first, with reference to the soul, it cannot be pre- tended that the business of husbandly is unfavorable to religious feeling. On the contrary, there is no mode of life more friendly to the exercise of faith, the duty of devotion, and the practice of Christian charity. The busiest seasons of the harvest allow ample time to commence each day 192 HOW TO AVOID THOSE DANQEES. [CHAP. XtV. ■with family prayer, and close it with the same. And no farmer could fail to find that this act of pious reverence, united with the reading of a page from the Word of God, would be the happiest and most profitable protection of his labors, and the surest warrant for their success. Next, with reference to the mind, I would lay it down as a sound maxim, that twelve hours out of the twenty- four, during the busy portion of the year, are enough for the work of the farmer, if employed industriously ; leaving the other twelve for prayer, for food, for reading, for con- versation, and for needful rest. If we tate seven of these hours for sleep, and three for family devotion and for meals, there will still remain two for general reading. And that is more than sufficient, if the books be properly selected, to keep the mind constantly improving. But the busy season does not occupy the whole year. The winter comes, with its long evenings, its reduced work, and its days of comparative leisure. Here, then, the farmer has an admirable opportunity to increase his mental treasures. Let him consult his minister, his doctor, and his lawyer, as to the most useful books for his domestic library. Let him labor on these, as he would labor on the soil, until his intellectual work becomes, as it soon will be, a real pleasure. Let him seek the acquaintance of the best minds amongst his neighbore, and give himself and his family a sufficient familiarity with the customs and habits of good society, to make them feel at ease in the intercourse of the world. Let him avoid the tavern, keep clear of gaming, racing, and all gatherings whose tendency is towards low and degrading dissipation. And he may be assured that by this course, pursued with reasonable perseverance, his intellectual powers will grow and expand in their true CHAP. XV.] • THE MERCHANT. 193 proportion. His social character will rise in tlie opinion of his family, and the community around him. And he will prove, to the satisfaction of his sons and daughters, how easily and surely the labors of the body may go on, in prosperous connection with the improvement of the mind, and the solid regard of all whose praise is worth possessing. CHAPTEK XV. THE DANGERS OF THE MERCHANT. The business of commerce is not only of vast importance in itself, but it is a favorite one with a large proportion of the youth of our country. And we cannot wonder that it is so, when we look at the imposing array of ships and warehouses, in the great cities of the seaboard ; the colossal fortunes realized by our successful merchants, the palaces in which they live, surrounded by luxury ; and the brilliant prominence accorded to their enterprise and influence, in the public esteem. Independently, however, of this magnificent exterior, there is something positively grand in the work which commerce performs for the interests and welfare of man- kind. It maintains a constant intercourse between all the nations of the earth, with mutual profit and advantage. It diffuses arts and sciences, languages and customs, inven- tions and theories throughout the world, as a common property. It introduces the plants, the minerals, and the animals of every region, amongst the rest, and makes them available for use and beauty. It supplies the defects of one coimtry by the superabundance of another, and renders the 194 LABORS OF THE MERCHANT. [CHAP. XT. various members of the great human family, to a certain extent, the objects of thought and sympathy to all their brethren. It affords facilities, which would be otherwise unattainable, for every enterprise of religion and benevo- lence. It gives a vast impulse to the millions employed in agriculture and manufactures. In a word, so manifold are its uses, that it is an essential element in all civilized so- ciety ; and its extinction would reduce mankind to the prim- itive state of tribes, in the simplest form of disorganized isolation. It seems strange enough that all this mighty work of commerce should be generally regarded as distinct from laior, when, in truth, it involves labor as varied and as un- remitting, as any other object of human attention. For, what labors surpass the building of ships, of wharves, and lighthouses ? What labors are more severe than those of the sailors on the treacherous and stonny ocean ? What labors are more exacting or more perilous than those which are lavished in the voyages of discovery, stimulated and performed by commercial enterprise ? What work was ever assigned to mortal men, more hard and hazardous than that which planted the Spaniards in Mexico, the Portuguese in Brazil, the French in Louisiana, the Dutch in Ceylon, the English in the East Indies, and in the colonies of North America ? Nay, even the home machinery of trade is full of labor — labor of the body as well as of the mind. If we look, for instance, at the vessel coming into port, with her foreign cargo, we find the merchant and his clerks tasked far more hardly than the farmer in his harvest-field. Day and night, the pressure of work continues, straining every nerve with effort, and wearing the frame with toil. Or if we look at the ship taking in hei- lading, and bound to sail by CHAP. XV.] DANGERS OF THE MEECHANT. 193 a certain day, we shall hardly diseover a spot on earth ■which exhibits more of labor driven to fever-heat, than the counting-house and the wharf display under the lash of commercial excitement. In sober truth, there are few de- partments of what men commonly call labor, so exacting and severe. But I shall not weary my reader's patience by a disquisi- tion on the idle distinction which custom has attached to this word, labor. Propei'ly considered, labor is the necessary condition of human success in every avocation. It may be more or less honorable, according to circumstances. It may occupy a higher or a lower point on the scale of social in- tercourse. Yet it is labor still. And if, on the one hand, it offers a brighter prize to the successful candidate, it is usually attended, on the other, by a far more serious risk of disappointment and defeat. Without dwelling any longer, therefore, on this theme, I proceed to the special topic of the present chapter, viz., the dangers of the merchant. And here, we may place, first, the fact that the business of the commercial man, generally, is to buy and sell, with- out producing ; and the difference between the purchase and the sale is the sole source of his profit. In the great majority of cases, he is obliged to make both the purchase and the sale on credit. Hence, he is under a necessity of selling, within a certain time, enough to meet his engagements ; and this naturally produces an anxiety to sell, which tempts him to use artifice and management. A long list might be enumerated under the general title of " the tricks of trade," none of which can be reconciled with the strict maxims of honesty, although, by the general con- viction of mankind, they are only too common. Thus we have often heard of the frauds committed against 196 DANGEES OF THE MEECHAHT. [OHAE. XV. the government by the " Custom-house oath," in which the real duties on imported goods are lessened or evaded, by an actual perjury. So, likewise, manufactured wines and cordials are sold, under the false name of the genuine article, with a full knowledge of the base imposition practised upon the pur- chaser, and under the risk of the most serious injury to his health, if not to the entire ruin of his constitution. In like manner, damaged goods are passed off as sound. Old manufactured stuffs are sold nnder new names. The value of the articles disposed of is systematically exagger- ated, nntil it has become the general rule of dealers to offer less than they are willing to give, in the full belief that the seller asks considerably more than he is ready to take ; and neither party considers it prudent or wise to place the slight- est reliance on the candor or sincerity of the other. The habit of thus discarding strict truth in matters of business, leads the merchant, in case of embarrassment, to extricate himself by speculations, sometimes foimded on deception, in the wild hope that a lucky hit, as it is called, may relieve him from his difficulties, and restore him to credit again. And when insolvency becomes inevitable, he is tempted to manage it in such a way that his creditors are the only sufferers, while he is better in his pecuniary circumstances than he was before. TIow far those evils operate in our commercial commu- nity, it is not for me to say. But it is very certain that if such be the general standard of mercantile morals, the fail- ure of the great majority might be naturally expected, because no business which is conducted without regard to moral principle, can or ought to prosper in the end. And here, I am reminded of a remarkable statement made by CHAP. XT.] DANGEES OF THE MERCHANT. 197 the late Gen. Dearborn, who was Collector of the Port in Boston for forty years together, and had taken pains, during the whole time, to keep an exact record of the names and fortunes of the commercial community. He declared that of all the merchants in that prosperous city who were in business when he entered into office, there were only three that had not failed, while many of them had failed twice and even thrice, within the period ; and his conclusion was, that, so far as security, success, and comfort were concerned, he would rather see his son possessed of ten acres of ground and cultivating them for his livelihood, than behold him among the first merchants of the land. The gain, indeed, would be slow, and might never amount to a tenth or twentieth part of a commercial fortune. There would be no prominence attached to his name in public estimation, no sumptuous residence, and no fashionable dissipation or luxury for his wife and family ; but he would have enough for the real enjoyments of life, and his income would be sure and steady. His mind would be free from anxiety, and his circumstances safe from the thousand perils of com- merce. His domestic happiness would be secure from the intoxication of opulence and pride on the one hand, and from the blow of sudden poverty in case of failure, on the other. His morals would be undisturbed by the tempta- tions to which the ordinary life of the merchant is so liable. His health would be more firm, his temper more serene, his spirits more equable, and his conscience more peaceful ; and therefore, on a fair and calm survey of the whole, he would find himself possessed of a much better prospect, for the reasonable comforts of the present life, and the fe- licity of the life to come. But however true all this may be, the world could not 198 TRUTH AND CANDOE. [OHAP. XT. do without merchants ; and therefore our desire should lead us not so much to deter men from adopting commerce, as tO elevate and purify the moral atmosphere which surrounds it with so much danger. And this, at first sight, would eeem to be easy of accomplishment ; for surely there is no real foundation for the idea that the business of trade is necessarily dependent on deceit or misrepresentation. In itself, it is an occupation which is lawful, laudable, and even indispensable to every civilized community. Why, then, should it be thought impossible to carry it on with perfect sincerity and candor ? The answer which many may doubtless give, would be, " Because we must take men as they are, and deal with them accordingly ; for otherwise their craft will impose on our simplicity, and we shall be sure to fail in the unequal contest between honesty and deceit." This logic, however, to my mind, is totally unjustifiable. It is true that we must take men as they are, and deal with them accordingly. It is true, for that reason, that we must be on our guard against every danger which abounds throughout society, through the- depravity of human nature. But it is certainly not true that we are bound to imitate and encourage that depravity. I can protect myself against a thief without becoming a thief. I can guard against deceit without becoming a deceiver. I can beware of falsehood without becoming a liar ; and why can I not be safe from imposition in trade without becoming, in my turn, the prac- titioner of imposition ? Take, for example, the case of the wine merchant, who knows, or ought to know, the adulterations and false names so current in that branch of business, and can tell how much of his stock is genuine, and how much is a miserable CHAP, XV.] HONESTY. 199 and perhaps dangerous fabrication. A customer applies to Mm for wine of a particular quality. Is he bound to tell him a lie ? On the contrary, he is morally bound to tell him the truth. He may say, " The wines in general use are mostly compounded by skilful imitators, and I cannot vouch for the genuineness of any except a small portion. I will give you, frankly, all the knowledge which I have myself, and you may rely on its correctness. The article you ask for is not to be had anywhere, at present, in its pure and unadulterated state, though you will find many dealers, I fear, who will tell you otherwise. What passes for it I have, and can afford it of as good a quality and for as low a price as any in the market. But I cannot sell it to you as genuine, because I would not deceive you." Now the worst possible consequence of this candor might be that the applicant goes elsewhere, and is imposed on by false pre- tences, and so the honest merchant loses the sale. But if he perseveres in telling the truth, he will sooner or later estah- lish his character, and that will secm-e him a preference in the community, which must, even on worldly principles, in- sure his success. Notwithstanding all the iniquity and folly of mankind, there is no maxim better established than this : that com- merce, in its whole length and breadth, depends, for its real prosperity, on confidence. But confidence cannot exist, im- less it be founded on integrity. Deceit and dishonest man- agement may seem to prosper for a while, and yet they are ,sure to be exposed and detested in the end. Hence the first element of mercantile success is a character for fidelity. Nothing is more abhorrent to men than the knowledge that they have been the subjects of imposition. Nothing ex- cites more surely their contempt and hatred, than the arti- 200 HONESTY. [chap. XV. fices of the individual who has practised on their credulity. And hence we find that even in those rare cases where per- sons have realized a fortune by unworthy means, and gain- ed a transient place in society by the influence of wealth and fashion, the world revenges itself by the ready voice of impartial justice; "and the purse-proud millionaire is fol- lowed by the history of his baseness, and shrinks before the steady gaze of honest integrity. We owe it solely to the wisdom and benevolence of God, that even in the corruption of the fall, this instinctive hom- age to truth and virtue is yet remaining. The Creator has endowed all men with a conscience, and although its power is not sufficient to make them what they ought to be, yet they cannot help a compliance with its dictates, as of a law written in their hearts, by which they are compel- led to decide in approving or condemning one another. (1 Cor.) And hence we may easily see the ground of that rule, so universally received, that " honesty is the best polr icy." Just in proportion as the merchant acts upon this rule, he may hope to prosper. JSTo man, in the long race of life, has ever gained by its violation. And it is easily sus- ceptible of an extent which covers the whole ground of hu- man duty. For, honesty towards God and his own soul will provide for his religious welfare ; and honesty towards man will secure the confidence of the community, which is the only permanent means of commercial success. The chief dangers of mercantile business may all be ob- viated, by the application of this simple and comprehensive maxim ; since honesty determines every word and act by the law of conscience. Honesty will not stoop to the base- ness of perjury, before the officers of the custom-house. Honesty will not lie, for the sake of gain. Honesty will CHAP. XTT.] HONESTY. 201 not take advantage of a pnrchaBer's ignorance, nor sell him goods which he would not knowingly bny, nor take his money on false pretences. Honesty will not speculate at the risk of others, nor trust to luck, instead of diligence and industry, nor inveigle friends by misrepresentation, nor defraud creditors by concealment, nor make profit to itself by acts of insolvency. In fine, honesty is synonymous with integrity and truth. And the merchant who is guided by these, may safely calculate upon the approbation of society and the favor of Providence, without which no amount of temporary wealth can save him from remorse, reproach, and final ruin. CHAPTEK XYI. THE DANGEES OF THE LAWTEE. Among the learned professions, as they are called, the most attractive to the majority of our aspiring youth is the profession of the law. The reason doubtless is found in the fact that it is not only a highly exalted avocation in itself, but one which leads the successful candidate imme- diately before the people, and places him in the best posi- tion for public honor and ofBce, in the government of the country. But intrinsically, the business of the lawyer is worthy of deep respect and consideration. For it is the object of his profession to protect the rights of every member of society, when they are invaded by knavery or violence ; and no in- dividual can tell how soon that case may be his own. Hence the lawyer is the regular medium through whom the law 9« 202 THE LAWTEK. [CHAP. XVI. itself becomes available. His advocacy places all the suitors upon an equal footing before the court. Through him, the ignorant may confront the learned, the poor may -withstand the rich, the weak may resist the strong, and the simple and inexperienced may countervail the arts of the most subtle and crafty foe. It is his noble office to expose the villainy of fraud, to arrest the ann of the oppressor, and to point out the guilty head on which the sword of justice should descend. In the execution of his work, he is called to exercise the most varied powers. The lore of science, the records of history, the knowledge of the arts, the weight of human testimony, the insight into character and motives, the influence of the passions, are all to be dis- played by the forensic orator, in imion with the grace of rhetoric, and the force of eloquence, and the energy which belongs to the love of truth and virtue. In the lofty ideal of the profession, therefore, there is no lack of abundant scope for the highest eulogy ; since we can find no mere human agency more worthy of regard, or entitled to a larger share of public confidence and veneration. When we come to the reality, however, the contrast is striking and painful. The theory is admirable, but there is a sad want of conformity in the ordinary practice. Instead of the " energy which belongs to the love of truth and vir- tue," we are obliged to be content with the force of profes- sional pride, waging a pertinacious contest for victory. In- stead of the " public confidence and veneration," we are compelled to acknowledge a general feeling of apprehen- sion and distrust. The community, for the most part, do not believe that the lawyer cares a straw for justice or for right, unless the money of his client pays for it ; because they see that when the case is ever so unjuet, the eame CHAP, XVI.] RISE OF THE PEOFESSION. 203 money secures an equal amount of pi'ofessional zeal and devotion. In a word, the general opinion of mankind seems to be that the lawyer will work earnestly enough for fame and gold ; but that the notion of his doing any thing for the sake of virtue or of truth is the mere romance of an Utopian dreamer. For my own part, I have no doubt that the prevailing prejudice is carried quite too far. But its existence is a fact which is too plain for denial, and proves that this im- portant profession is liable to its full share of danger and temptation. Let me proceed to examine some of the diffi- culties to which it is exposed, after I have premised a few words about its rise and progress. The lawyer, as belonging to a distinct class, does not ap- pear in the history of the world before the Christian era. There was, nevertheless, a substantial fulfilment of the office, in all ages, by such persons as felt themselves qualified to volunteer their aid in the attainment of justice. We see the plain traces of this amongst the Isi-aelites, in the laws of the Mosaic System ; in the case of Daniel, who inter- fered so nobly for the protection of Susannah ; and in that order of men whom the Jews styled doctors of the law, and who acted a prominent part in opposition to the Saviour. In the days of Cicero, towards the end of the old Eoman Eepublic,. there was no separate profession resembling that of the modern lawyer. But every one who belonged to the Patrician order was expected to appear in defence of his clients, when occasion required ; and a present was usually made, according to the ability of the party, and the impor- tance of the trial. Long before that period, however, the Orator had become a well-known character in the republic of Athens 5 and the fame of Pericles, Eschines, and espe- 204 RISE OF THE PEOFESSION. [CHAP. XTI. cially Demosthenes, had stimulated the ambition and guided the taste of their Eoman imitators. Bat it was not until the progi'ess of centuries, under tlie emperors, had largely multiplied the precedents and authorities of imperial law, that the science demanded the whole time and attention of a distinct class. The irruption of the barbarian hordes which subverted the Western Empire, and the long reign of ignorance, commonly styled the dark ages, which fol- lowed, threw the business of the lawyer into the hands of the clergy ; because the little learning that remained was confined to them, and the warlike knights and barons of feudal times held the arts of reading and writing to be be- neath the attention of the soldier. This condition of the matter, however, became gradually changed by the restora- tion of letters in the 15th century. And by degrees, the modem arrangement was perfected, which presents the lawyer as the member of a well-defined profession ; though still his chief compensation is considered as an honorary gift {quiddam lionorariurri)^ subject to no fixed or certain standard, but left to arbitrary arrangement, as it was in the time of Cicero, nineteen hundred years ago. It can hardly be doubted that in many respects our es- tablished system is a great improvement on the old sim- plicity, although it may be argued, with much apparent reason, that this improvement is more than counterbalanced by the vast increase of expense, delay, and uncertainty which impede the course of justice, and make it the in- terest of most men to suffer wrong, in the large majority of cases, rather than go through the process of the law, where " the game," according to the French proverb, is so seldom " worth the candle." But we must take the matter as it stands, without discussing the merits of a question wbich it CHAP. XVI.] THE MTNISTEB OF JtTSTlOB. 205 would be eo impossible to determine. It is our wisdom to be thankful for the substantial advantages of the profession, and to examine how these advantages maybe better secured, by lessening, so far as may be practicable, the obstacles to its most beneficial influence on the peace, the order, and the general welfare of society. The surest mode of arriving at a true theoiy of the pro- fession, in my humble judgment, is to regard the lawyer as a MINISTER OF JUSTICE. I grant, indeed, that he is not in the place of the judge or the jury, to decide the cause. I grant that it is his duty to represent only one of the parties. And yet, I am entirely convinced that he is only authorized to &ci for the purposes of justice, and that if he be supposed at liberty to act as the minister of injxistice, the whole ar- gument in favor of his oflace is at once destroyed. On the theory which I would maintain, the lawyer is a most important instrument in the attainmeut of justice, for the following reasons : because the controversy is first placed before him, and his client is compelled to put him in possession, to a great extent, of the merits of the ques- tion — because his mind is not warped by the prejudice, the passions, or the interests which may prevent that client from understanding his real position — because it is to be presumed that the lawyer, thus consulted, will advise the applicant to such a course as will be best for his own future character and advantage, and the general welfare of the community — because the learning and the honest zeal of the advocate enable him to prepare the case so as to obtain for his client a fair and impartial decision, in despite of the wealth, the influence, or the talents of his adversary ; and finally, because, for all these reasons, the agency of the lawyer is the best conceivable instrument in securing the 206 THE MINISTEE OF JUSTICE. [cHAP. XVI. great object of all government and law, namely, the bring- ing strict justice home to the rights and duties of every cit- izen. To prove, yet further, that the lawyer must be regai-ded as a minister of justice, we may next regard the conclusive fact that he is not permitted to enter on his profession until he has undergone an examination satisfactory to the judge, and has taken a solemn oath that " he will be faithful to the court and to his client, and will delay no man's cause from lucre or malice." But it is manifest that this binds him to the service of justice, because it binds him to faithfulness under a court of justice. And although it also binds him to be faithful to his client, yet this can only be understood in accordance with the same principle. For no man has a right to ask the court for any thing but justice ; and no law- yer can have a right to do that for his client, which the client has no right to do for himself. There is still another argument, however, which leads to the same conclusion. Every lawyer is a oitisen, and there- fore a fartner in the rejpuhUo, bound by his allegiance to be faithful to the government, the laws, and the public peace and order. But all of these demand the administration of justice, on which the safety of the whole depends. JSTo good citizen can favor or assist injustice. No good citizen can desire that crime should escape, or that villainy should prosper. And the man who becomes a lawyer, is surely none the less bound to be a good citizen. His office cannot possibly be construed so as to exempt him from the univer- sal bonds of civic obligation. On the contrary, as an ad- mitted member of a profession, sworn to be faithful to the courts of justice, he is doubly pledged to the public welfare as a citizen and as a lawj'^er. And hence, if he becomes GHAP. XVI.] DAITGEE8 OF THE LAWTEE. 207 consciously and knowingly, a minister of injustice^ Le be- trays himself into a double perjury, and deserves a double measure of righteous condemnation. !N"ow the main danger of the legal profession arises from a misapprehension of this fundamental principle. Lawyers, for the most part, do not seem to consider themselves min- isters of justice, or even citizens, when called upon to act officially, unless they are appointed to prosecute ofi'enders under the authority of government. In all other cases, they are apt to think of nothing but the interest of their client and their own. And when they succeed, as they often do, in protecting the vilest malefactor from the righteous sen- tence of the law, or in baffling the plainest claim of the opposing party, by their dexterity and eloquence, they are abundantly satisfied with the result to their reputation for ability ; and the rights of justice and the public good give them as little concern, as if they held no place in their scheme of social duty. But they are so far from acknowledging any inconsisten- cy in this, that they defend their course on the very ground of justice. Thus they will say, that no matter how great a criminal, or how manifest a knave any man may be, his case must be decided according to law^ and he has an un- questionable right to be protected from a judicial sentence, until the course of the law condemns him. And then they tell us that the skill of the lawyer is only employed to pro- duce this result— that he defends his client by the use of those means which the law designs to be employed. And hence, when the culprit escapes, by the dexterous use of those means, the lawyer has done nothing more or less than his duty. No man of reflection or candor will deny that this argu- 208 AEGTJMENT EXAMINED. [CHAF. XVI. ment is ingenious and plausible ; and I do not wonder that it passes for a full justification with those, whose habits of thought and personal interests are all in its favor. And yet I presume to think, that it is nothing better than a spe- cimen of well-constructed sophistry. My reasons may fail to satisfy the reader's mind, but I trust they will not be found unworthy of his serious attention. The first proposition laid down in this defence of the lawyer's practice, is undoubtedly sound and correct. No criminal should be condemned — however great his guilt may be — otherwise than, by the due course of law. The rest of the statement I am compelled to reject, as totally fallacious. If the lawyer only used his skill to secure a fair trial, or to prevent oppression and abuse, there would be no ground for censure or complaint ; since thus far, he would only act as the minister of justice. But if he en- courage his client to lie, knowing him to be guilty — if he deliberately place that lie upon the record in the face of God, and of the court to which he has sworn fidelity — if he assume that lie to be the truth in the whole course of his pleadings — if he insist upon the same lie to the end, notwithstanding the plainest testimony — if he exert his ut- most skill to brow-beat and confuse the witnesses, and pre- vent them from speaking the calm and simple truth, so as to make its proper impression on the jury — and if, after all, he employ the most vehement and pathetic oratory to in- duce that jury to bring in a verdict against what he Imows to be the law and the evidence — it is simply ridiculous to pretend that he has not acted as the enemy, instead of the minister, of justice. And it is equally ridiculous to say that he has only used the means which the law itself al- lows, so that whatever the result may be, he has merely CHAP. XVI.] ARGUMENT EXAMINED. 209 done his duty. On the contrary, notwithstanding all this may be tolerated — notwithstanding it may be done every day, by gentlemen of the highest character, as a matter of established professional necessity — notwithstanding it may be done with fame, profit, and praise, throughout the most civilized nations of Christendom, yet I must declare, in all honesty and franlcness, that it is done in the face of real duty^ because it is done against the object of the law, against conscience, against truth, against the oath of office, against the allegiance of the citizen, against the best interest of the community, and against the real dignity and moral character of the profession. We will suppose the ordinary case of a felon, who stands committed on the clearest positive testimony. But he is possessed of money and friends, and can affijrd to employ an able lawyer. The gentleman selected is of course imme- diately informed of the evidence, and has no reason in the world to doubt that his client is guilty, and that justice de- mands his condemnation. Yet the first thing that this min- ister of justice does, is to resolve that the man shall deny the crime ; nay, even if he has already confessed it, that the confession shall be treated as extorted, or made by sur- prise or misapprehension, and therefore of no validity. But does tlie laio sanction this deliberate lie? Does the law expect the advocate to make himself the counsellor of false- hood ? The utmost extent to which the courts can go, is to authorize the plea of Not Guilty to be entered on the rec- ord, when the accused refuses to give any answer. But there is not a law upon the face of the earth which justifies a member of the bar in advising a plea which he knows to be untrue — a plea designed for the very purpose of defeat- ing what he believes to be the real ends of justice. 210 AEGTJMENT EXAMINED. [cHAP. XVI. The profesgional action thus commenced in falsehood, is carried through, with consistent hardihood, to the end. But how does it quadrate with the oath of office ? The lawyer comes into court with a protestation of his client's inno- cence, and labors to convince the judge and the jury that he ought to be acquitted, when he believes in his con- science, all the while, that he ought to be condemned. Is this sanctioned by the law ? Is it fidelity to the court to do his utmost to mislead it? Is infidelity to the court to do his utmost to mislead the jury, endeavoring to persuade them to break their own oath by bringing in a verdict against the law and evidence by which they are solemnly bound to decide ? For nothing is more common, in criminal trials, than this very thing. When the lawyer is aware that the court cannot sustain him, he never fails to tell the jury that they are the judges of the law as well as of the evidence ; and exerts all his art and eloquence to induce them to dis- regard the opinion of the court, and take his views as their directory. But how this can be reconciled with his official oath to be faithful to the court, is entirely beyond all or- dinary powers of comprehension. At least, however, it is supposed to be quite certain that the lawyer, in all this, keeps the other clause of his solemn obligation, viz., to be faitJful to his client. And I should be willing to grant this freely, if there were no judgment in the future life, and no divine standard of Christian morality. But that cannot be justly considered faithfulness to the client, which only tempts him to add sin to sin. If the man be really guilty, it is better for his eternal interest that he should confess it and repent, instead of trying to obtain his liberty or prolong his miserable existence by a com-se of lies and hypocrisy. Certain it is, that there is no principle CHAP. XVI.] OATH OF THE LAWTEE. 211 in the law which authorizes the pronouncing of a deliberate falsehood before a court of justice. The basis of the law is religion. The oath of God is the only security for the truth of the witnesses ; the oath gives validity to the commission of the judge ; the oath confers force on the verdict of the jury ; but all these oaths bear reference to the divine Law- giver, and the judgment of the great day. How, then, shall the lawyer's oath, to be faithful to his client, be so inter- preted as to exclude all reference to the same awful respon- sibility? Is the danger of sinning against God to affect the conscience of judges, witnesses, and jurymen, and shall it have no application to the oath of the lawyer? Is he alone at liberty to spurn the divine law of truth, and try to extricate the criminal from the temporal penalty of one transgression, by wilfully incurring the eternal penalty de- nounced against another? That the license thus taken by the lawyer is totally hos- tile to the best interests of the community, is quite manifest to the slightest effort of reflection. For the whole security of property, liberty, and life itself, depends, under Provi- dence, on the just and impartial administration of the laws; and that administration cannot be trustworthy, if confidence may not be placed in the principles and characters of the lawyers. I doubt not that this is the source to which we are indebted mainly for what is ironically called " the glo- rious uncertainty of the law." But society at large must always suffer, when villainy escapes and knavery prospers, l^othing can be done effectually by human legislation to check the progress of crime, or protect the rights of the honest and peaceable, if justice be openly evaded and the culprit be allowed to walk abroad. And it is no light mat- ter that any man should make himself a party to all the 212 INTEREST OF SOCIETT. [cHAP. XVI. future wrongs which a criminal, thus allowed to defeat jus- tice, will probably commit before his race is run. This is the reason why the law visits so heavily the rescuing of the felon, because the punishment of crime is of the highest importance to the safety of the community. And marvel- lous it seems to me that the same effort which would con- stitute a grave oifence in any other man, should become right when it is undertaken by the lawyer, merely because he uses a different instrumentality. Properly regarded, it is rather an atrocious aggravation of the wrong. For if the criminal be rescued by his fellows, he may be arrested again, and they are liable to suffer for their attempt to de- feat the ends of justice. But if he be rescued by the subtlety of his lawyer, he is safe from further responsibility to any human power ; and society suffers the double calamity of seeing justice defrauded, and of feeling the insecurity of the only means on which the citizen can rely for his protection, when the ministers of the lata are themselves the cause of its impotence and failure. I have said that the prevailing ideas of lawyers on this subject are hostile to the real dignity and moral character of the profession ; and I have said it with perfect sincerity. According to what I hold to be the true theory of their noble calling, they are designed to be the ministers of jus- tice, authorized to act on behalf of every member of society, so as to insure the best application of the law to every case, without exception. In such an aspect, they would be es- teemed by the whole community as the protectors 'and the benefactors of the public welfare. The honest and the well- disposed would have recourse to them with confidence, and they would only be dreaded by the unprincipled and the vile. The title of lawyer would be synonymous with truth GHAP, XVI.] INTEREST OF THE LAWTEE. 213 and right, which are the real foundations of law and order; and the courts of justice, instead of being shunned with fear and apprehension, would be sought with readiness as the sure resource of virtue and integrity. But what, it may be asked, would be the effect of this theory upon the emoluments of the profession ? I answer, that such a system would largely increase them. For, al- though the fees of evil men would be lost, yet the rewards of a better class would be more than equivalent. In the multifarious business of the world, there are disputes con- stantly arising where both parties mean to do right, al- though they cannot see the subject in the same way, and need the intervention of disinterested and wiser minds to decide the controversy. But prudent men are usually un- willing to employ a lawyer, lest they might be drawn into a long and perhaps a bitter contest, involving a loss of time, temper, and money, far exceeding the value of success even to the triumphant party. And hence the majority take all possible pains to settle their difEculties among themselves, preferring even to lose, rather than incur the perils of liti- . gation. But if it were once believed that lawyers under- stood their oath of fidelity to their clients in the sense which I have advocated, all men would have recourse to them immediately, as the best and easiest way of securing justice ; because they would then come together as friends, to com- pare, in the spirit of candor, the statements of their clients. In nine cases out of ten, the whole diflSculty would thus be accommodated to their mutual satisfaction ; and the parties would gladly pay their lawyers as much as the same labor would have been worth, in the process of a tedious legal contention. It may be objected, however, that in such a course they 214 INTEREST OF THE LAWYER. [OHAP. XTI. would not be acting as lawyers, but as arbitrators. And to this I reply, Not so, in strict propriety, because arbitrators are appointed under an agreement of the parties to abide by the award ; whereas, in the case supposed, the clients might continue to differ, and the lawyers themselves, with the best intentions, might not always be able to agree ; so that a recourse to a legal trial might sometimes be found necessary to decide the diiSculty. But in a large majority of cases, the plan proposed would have all the advantages of an arbitration ; and even when it failed, as it would do oc- casionally, the suit would be of an amicable character, pros- ecuted in good faith, and entirely free from trickery or evasion. And the certain result would be, first, an immense in- crease of the business of the lawyers, because twenty dis- putes would be brought before them, if the public confidence were fixed in their honest friendliness and candor, for one which is committed to them now. Secondly, they would be regarded with universal esteem and reverence, as the guardians of justice, peace, and good- will, throughout society ; instead of being looked upon by so many as a species of human sharks, who only lived by preying upon the misfortunes, sins, and follies of mankind. Thirdly, the labors of our courts would be greatly dimin- ished, because, although the business of the lawyers would be vastly increased, yet it would rarely happen that recom'se need be had to a court and jury. And when such recourse became indispensable, the cause would be managed on both sides with fairness, kindliness, and justice ; and therefore there would be a great saving of the time so apt to be con- sumed in idle and trifling controversy. And, fourthly, the lawyers would be looked upon, in the CHAP. XVI.3 DEFEAT OF JUSTIOB. 216 halk of legislation, with a far higher feeling of reliance, as the great conservative class of the nation ; on whose judg- ment and principles all men would be willing to depend in every controverted question. Even as it is, their superior learning and ability secure for them a very extensive influ- ence in the work of government. But it is felt and under- stood full well that the same proclivity to follow out the wishes of their client, whether right or wrong, for their own supposed reputation and profit at the bar, too often ad- heres to them as legislators, degrading them to the miserable service of a party, when they should speak and act as honest, independent patriots, for the benefit of the whole. I have already adverted to that aspect of the question, in which the public welfare is so deeply interested, viz., the certainty with which crime would be punished, if the lawyers were always disposed to act as the ministers of justice. The proofs are unhappily abundant that they are not so considered now. We have seen how often, in Cali- fornia, the best and wisest citizens have taken the trial of criminals out of the hands of courts and lawyers, on the very ground that justice could not bo expected from them. That in New York, a notorious woman, of whose guilt the whole city was convinced, after several exciting trials, was finally discharged, solely by the skilful management of her accomplished advocate. That in Kentucky, an open mur- der was committed on an estimable teacher, which rang through the whole United States, and yet the culprit was acquitted by means of his lawyer's extraordinary tact and eloquence. That, in fine, the Press is constantly complain- ing of the perilous facility afforded for the escape of crimi- nals, until the public mind is in danger of becoming utterly 216 INFLUENCE OF THE LAWTEK. [CHAP. XVI. debauched, and the whole majesty of the law is sinking down in puerile weakness and imbecility. Doubtless not a little of this growing degeneracy may be fairly imputed to the fatal mistake of making judges elec- tive for a term of years, by the popular voice, instead of haying them appointed, as before, by the nomination of the Executive, confirmed by the Senate, during good be- havior, or for life. But this innovation was the work of the lawyers. Indeed, I am not aware of any defect under which the administration of justice is laboring in our day, that may not be fairly attributed to their agency. For to them, of necessity, is committed the whole management of our legal machinery. They have the largest share, by far, in the making of the laws. They conduct the proceedings from the beginning to the end, and it rests with them whether the public trial shall be a scene of serious decorum, worthy of the occasion and the place, or a display of unseemly rudeness, disorder, and levity. ISTay, they determine the character of the courts, not only because the judges are always elected from the lawyers, but because the efficiency of every judge must be greatly influenced by the conduct of the bar. Hence the result seems plain, that if the law- yers, as a class, considered themselves bound to act only as the ministers of justice, and refused to give their aid to any cause which their own moral sense could not approve, there would be no escape for notorious criminals, no shelter for villainy, no lack of security to the virtuous and honest, no excuse for what is termed Lynch law, no distrust or contempt towards the regular tribunals of the land, and no inducement for the disorganizing spirit now so mournfully on the increase, which sets itself above all law, by reason of the manifold abuses in its administration. CHAP. XVI.] ^rUPOETANOE OF THE LAW. 217 My professional readers will probably think that these suggestions are visionary, and that my strictures are alto- gether too severe. I can only say that they are prompted solely by the high reverence which I entertain for the true majesty of the law, and the real esteem in which I hold that class of my fellow-citizens, who are specially devoted to its maintenance. There are other forms of government, under which a conservative power may be wielded by the throne and the nobility, strong enough to guard the general interests of the community, even when the legal tri- bunals are venal and corrupt. But in a republic like our own, the law is the only power which can rightly claim supremacy. And that would be all-sufficient, un- der divine Providence, to secure the great ends of public peace and welfare, if it were regarded, as it should be, with trust and confidence. Such trust and confidence, how- ever, can only be expected, when the practical administra- tion of the law is felt to be in accordance with the sacred rules of truth and virtue. We all know that the people at large care nothing for abstract theories. Even religion it- self, though its authority be divine and unquestionable, yet depends, for the extent .of its influence, on the lives of its ministers, and the strict fidelity with which their functions are performed. Much more must the law, which is human, be affected by the course of its ministers ; and hence it is absurd to expect that it will ever gain its true value and importance in public estimation, so long as the lawyers are believed to be ready to sell themselves to knavery and crime. That there are, however, a considerable number of this honorable profession, who act upon the principles which I have advocated, and never descend from their elevated 10 218 THE PHYSICIAN. * [CHAP. XVH. position io prostitute their learning and their talents in the service of injustice, I fully believe ; for I have had the privilege of knowing some such, and of esteeming them as the ornament of their class, and the strong guardians of their country's welfare. Yet the extent of the prejudice so generally entertained against lawyers, may well justify the fear that those eminent examples are only the exceptions ; showing not what the great majority are, but plainly prov- ing what they might be, on a loftier and more Christian theory. Were it possible to elevate the whole to the true level, there could be no better human warrant for our national safety. For if the lawyers were all ministers of justice^ righteousness, order, and peace would fill the land, and we might bid defiance to the assaults of private guUt and pub- lic corruption. OHAPTEK XVII. THE DANGERS OF THE PHYSICIAN. Next to the profession of the law, stands that of medi- cine, in the usual order of preference. And they differ greatly in the tastes and habits of mind which are properly adapted to them ; so that the kind of talent required for eminent success in the one, is usually quite dissimilar from that which is demanded for the other. The youth who is specially marked out for the bar, is shrewd, argumentative, quick and bold of speech, and fond of social disputation. "While he who is fitted to excel in medicine is thoughtful, retiring, meditative, and reserved. The devotee of law looks forward to the crowded court-room, the public convention, CHAP. XVn.] ' ATTBACTIONS OF MEDICINE. 219 the halls of the. legislature and of Congress ; where the ap- plause of a listening multitude may hang upon his lips, and his eloquence may be diffused, by the Press, throughout the world. The devotee of medicine anticipates the quiet wards of the hospital, or the darkened chamber of the sick ; where the weak voice of the relieved sufferer may give utterance to a deeper gratitude, or the feelings of the family may yield him the pure incense of honest affection. And with these he must be content, since, at farthest, he can expect no honor beyond the chair of the professor, in which the ad- miration of his pupils may promise him, perhaps, a distant hope of fame. But although the prize held forth to the lawyer seems far brighter to the ambitious intellect, yet that which invites • the physician lays a readier hold upon the heart. It has more to do with the sympathies of home, with individual -pain and suffering. It brings within its circle the winning picture 'of female watchfulness, and ten- derness, and devotion. And above all, it stands directly connected with the mysterious powers of the mortal frame, whose wondrous organization, and the thousand calamities to which it is liable, afford, in themselves, the most deeply interesting subjects to the student, not only for the sake of others, but for his own. For this latter reason, the art of medicine is certainly the most attractive to the contemplative lover of nature. And hence its professors usually manifest a degree of enthusiasm, which is rarely found in the other pursuits of intellectual industry. But the dangers of the physician are not a few, and it is by no means easy to avoid them. Perhaps it may be useful to suggest some of those, which have most frequently pressed upon my mind during many years of observation. For 220 FIEST DANGEE OF THE PHTSIOIAN. [CHAP. XTH. although I am no professor of the noble art, yet I have always been one of its fervent admirers, and devoted to its appropriate learning a considerable amount of time, in the earlier part of my humble career. The first danger vs^hich I shall specify, is inevitable ; and continues, more or less, to the end. Indeed, it is inherent in the nature of the subject, which is itself a mystery. The "human body, with which medicine has to deal, is not to be fully understood by any, except the Great Physician who gave it existence. To a certain extent, we can examine the inanimate corpse, investigate its anatomical structure, and describe the bones, the muscles, the tendons, the cartilages, the nerves, the glands, the arterial and venous system. We can lay open the heart, the lungs, the stomach, the liv- er, the intestines, and the other organs of the trunk. We can ascend to the brain, unfold its marvellous convolutions, and trace its connection with the spinal cord. And long and close is the application, in the repulsive atmosphere of the dissecting-room, which is necessary to master these branches of knowledge. But after all that can be known, how impossible is it to discover the real causes of disease ? How and why it is that the individual, possessing the same frame, and living in the same way, shall have at one time the croup ; at another, the measles ; at a third, the whoop- ing-cough ; at a fourth, the scarlet fever ; at a fifth, the ague ; at a sixth, the rheumatism ; at a seventh, the pleu- risy ; at an eighth, the dysentery ; at a ninth, the gout ; and at last die, of small-pox, or cholera, or consumption ? Take even this little list, passing by a far larger catalogue of evils which threaten our wondrous organism, and what physician in the world can tell us why the human frame exhibits the various symptoms, to which these names are applied? CHAP. XTH.] FIRST DANGER OF THE PHTSICIAN. 221 Absolute knowledge, then, being altogether unattainable, conjecture must be admitted to supply its place. And this is not to be despised, although it be conjecture only. But it is evident that there is as much impenetrable, mystery about the actual cause of the cure, as there is about the ac- tual cause of the disease. The fact that a particular set of symptoms are apparent, indicating a disorder to which a special title has been appropriated, is ascertained upon the one hand. The fact that certain medicines, applied in a certain way, have been found to alleviate and finally re- move it, is ascertained upon the other. And, strictly speaking, this is all that is really known about the matter. Thus the patient has, we will suppose, the fever and ague. And what is this ? Why simply the name given to a dis- ease which shows itself by alternate attacks of burning and of chills, occurring at certain intervals with extraordinary regularity. Does any man know the internal state of the system which has caused this strange disease, and often keeps it up for months together ? Not one. It is an in- scrutable mystery. But experience has proved that Jesuits' bark, or its extract, quinine, or a judicious use of arsenic, cures the disorder. Does any man know how they cure it ? ]S"ot one. This, too, is an equally inscrutable mystery. The physician wisely and properly applies the facts, which are known, on the ground of reasonable probability. He may conjecture reasons, frame ingenious hypotheses, and ga,in credit for a while by his learned speculations. But it is impossible, in the nature of things, that he can do more. The facts remain facts. The conjectures remain conjec- tures. And this compound of facts and conjectures make up the whole of medical science, often falsely so called. For, rightly considered, science is only applicable to what 222 FIEST DANGEE OF THE PHYSICIAN. [OHAP. XVH. we can certainlj Mow ; and the term should never be used, as it is perpetually, to signify what men can only conjecture. Hence this word, in strict correctness, is excluded from medicine, which is an art and not a science. Yet the dis- tinction is exceedingly apt to be forgotten amongst physi- cians ; and this is perhaps the main cause of the fierce and contemptuous spirit, with which the various schools of med- icine are unhappily accustomed to abuse each other. Here, then, is the first danger of this most useful and important profession, viz., the liability to confound facts with conjectures, to assume a vast deal which is not suscep- tible of proof, and to refuse a reasonable hearing and a fair examination to other facts, as well supported as their own by a respectable amount of evidence, because the specular tive hypothesis of those who adduce these facts does not agree with their old or favorite theory. But this, after all, is only the judgment of prejudice. And it is a proposition too plain to need argument, that the mind which is gov- erned by prejudice, is in a very unfit state for the attain- ment of truth. Yet this danger, as I have said, is inevita- ble, because the young physician must study in some school, and must commence his practice with full confidence in its teaching. Alas ! it is the work of many years and of much sad experience, to discover how much of its supposed science is merely conjectural ; and how often the very course which he has learned to despise, as ignorant quackery, pro- duces results more beneficial than his own. Let me not be misunderstood, however, as an advocate for ignorance in the medical profession, more than in any other. On the contrary, I maintain the desirableness and the vast utility of all the knowledge which can possibly be acquired, in the most profound and extensive study. But CHAP. XVII.] FACT AND CONJEOTHEE. 223 what I do most respectfully cootend for is this : that phy- sicians, like all others, must submit their conclusions to the reasonable laws of evidence. They should remember the difference between /bcfe and speculative theories : and nev- er confound real knowledge with conjecture. Moreover, being perfectly aware that the qualities of all their medi- cines, when first discovered, were established hy trial, in- dependently of existing theory, and often in direct opposi- tion to it, they should be cautious how they condemn the claims of any new addition to the list, and be willing to ex- amine its merits honestly and fairly, before they pronounce the odious word, Qimohery. The regular school of medicine, as it is called, possesses the prestige of long and venerable prescription. Chartered corporations, learned professors, splendid buildings, a large catalogue of profound and admirable works, enriched by engravings, with every appendage of anatomical prepara- tions, and cabinets most skilfully arranged, claim the confi- dence and respect of the community ; and appeal most pow- erfully to the student, thirsting for the best knowledge of his intended profession. All praise and honor be accorded to the Faculty, in this, their well-earned position. No just or generous mind would question their merits or their claims. For, a nobler class of men, in their unwearied de- votion to the relief of suffering humanity, and their ardent efforts to advance the healing art, have never claimed the admiration of mankind. But yet the physician cannot be relieved from the re- sponsibility of thinking for himself, when he has passed through the regular course of preparatory study, and begins to apply his acquired knowledge to the curiug of disease. The Faculty, he is well aware, do not claim to be infallible. 224 SECOND DANGEE OF THE PHYSICIAN, [CHAP: XVII. Even during the present century, the system of the regular school has undergone, in many respects, a perfect revolu- tion, and may undergo another before the century has closed. Nay, it is their boast, and I repeat it to their hon- or, that they are ready to accept every useful discovery, and adopt every real improvement. Wty, then, should not the individual physician be prepared to do the same ? Manifestly he ought to practise the enlarged and compre- hensive spirit which the Faculty profess. Nevertheless it is very likely that he will shrink from such a course ; for he stands exposed to the second danger, viz., the being afraid to act upon his own principles, lest he should incur, for himself, the name of quack^ if he presume to patronize any mode of practice which has not previously been sanctioned from the professor's chair. And yet he knows that the Faculty consist of men who are usually too far advanced in life, too much occupied with their extensive business, and perhaps, very naturally, too fondly wedded to their own established system, to try ex- periments upon a new discovery. Hence, instead of being the first to ascertain the value of any alleged improvement, they are almost of necessity the last to allow its claims. In a word, they are, by habit and by feeling, conservatives. And therefore the whole history of medicine proves that every beneficial change has been commenced and carried forward, not under the sanction, but rather in despite of the Faculty ; and it was not until it had achieved success, by the stubborn evidence of facts, that the Faculty yielded their reluctant approbation. I am far from attaching any blame to our leading physi- cians for this conservatism. On the contrary, I should say that it is the only course which could be fairly expected CHAP. XVn.] HTDEOPATHT. 225 from them. It is their duty to give the important art of medicine a systematic form, and to present it, in this form, to all their students. And it is absurd to ask that they should be ready to welcome an assault upon their work, or to pull down with one hand what they are building up with the other. But the result is, that every physician, who is capable, should do his own share of thinking for himself, on his own responsibility, without waiting for the Faculty. It is only by the efforts of independent minds that medicine, like e\ery other art, has arrived at its present stage ; and the same independent efforts will be equally needed, through all future time, if it is to make any further progress. The nineteenth century, which has been prolific of so many astonishing inventions, has introduced a great variety of novelties in the healing art, two of which — Hydropathy and Homoeopathy — have made such serious inroads upon the regular school, that they have called forth a correspond- ent amount of opposition. It is neither my province nor my desire to attempt a settlement of their respective claims ; but I purpose to suggest a few thoughts upon these contro- versies, in order to show the aspects in which such ques- tions should be regarded, according to the rules of impar- tial reason. He system of Hydropathy, or the Water Cure, was dis- covered by a peasant, Priessnitz ; and has made a wonderful progress in many parts of Em'ope and the United States. It professes to remove all diseases that are capable of being cured, without drugs or medicines, by the daily application of water to the patient's person, in various modes ; in connec- tion with powerful friction, with a strict abstinence from all imwholesome stimulants, with simple diet, and vigorous 10* 226 HTDEOPATHY. [OHAP. xvn. exercise. By these means, it is alleged not only that the disorders will be radically cured, but that the whole sys- tem will be renovated and strengthened to a degree which can hardly be conceived, except by those who have expe- rienced it. ISTow of the fact there can be no doubt whatever, because the evidence is overwhelming and imdeniable, if we are authorized to put any confidence in human testimony. But how do the regular Faculty regard Hydropathy ? They dis- countenance it as a species of quackery, brought into sud- den repute by a fortunate conjuncture of ignorance and presumption. They deny its success, and attribute the good effects to friction, the cold bath, temperance, and ex- ercise, all of which were known to the world before Priess- nitz existed. They deprecate the wet sheet and the douche^ as actually dangerous to many constitutions ; and, on the whole, condemn the system as totally unworthy of reliance. But are we bound to adopt this sort of denunciation? If it be true that Hydropathy has actually produced the effects claimed for it, according to the universal testimony of those who have received its benefits, is it fair or just to call it Quaohery ? For this word properly attaches to im- position and deceit ; whereas, in the Hydropathic plan, every thing is simple, plain, and intelligible. And what does the world care about its being the discovery of a peasant ? The virtues of the Jesuits' bark were found out by what men call accident. The use of antimony resulted from the ob- servation of a monk upon its fattening hogs. Vaccination was suggested by the fact that milkmaids were subject to the vaccine disease, but not to the small-pox ; which led to the idea so happily improved by Dr. Jenner, but opposed by the Faculty for a while, with all their might, as a pre- CHAP, XVII.] HYDEOPATHT. 227 posteroTis notion. Many valuable medicines now in use were derived from savage Indians, and the great body of the Materia Medica has come down to us from sources which are entirely unknown. The question that concerns mankind in all such cases, is not whether the discovery was made by a peasant or a leai*ned physician, but, is the discovery proved to be beneiicial ? The gold mines of Cal- ifornia were not laid open by the officers of the mint, nor by scientific geologists or mineralogists. But does any one, on that account, attach less value to the precious metal ? It may be very true that the good effects of Hydi-opathy are dependent on the bath, the friction, the temperance, and the exercise. But what then? Granting that man- kind knew the salutary effects of these things already, yet it is certain that they were never so combined before, as not only to make them a substitute for medicine, but to con- quer diseases by their means, which the best physicians had failed to cure. In the power of this combination lay the value of the discovery. For the art of medicine is the art to heal ; since without that, all other knowledge, so far as the patient is concerned, amounts to nothing. And, there- fore, Priessnitz attained an art of his own, — not derived from books, nor from any previous system, yet still a real art, which went far beyond their teaching, in practical effi- ciency. Far wiser, then — far better and more just, in my humble opinion, would it have been, if our regular physicians had frankly admitted the facts of Hydropathy, and used them as admirable pi-oofs of those elements in their own system, which had always set forth the benefits of bathing, tem- perance, and exercise; although mankind had generally ■|)eep tqo ready to overlook them, through the pressure of 228 HTDEOPATHT. [CHAP. XVll. business, and the temptations to luxury and indolence ; and the doctors had failed to urge them as much as they de- served. They might have freely acknowledged that the "Water Cure was certainly a wonderful remedy in many cases, notwithstanding its founder erred in discarding med- icine altogether ; a judicious use of which, in connection with the rest, must often be necessary, and for the most part, highly useful. And they might have .added, with equal truth, that the system of Priessnitz required too much time, expense, and absence from other duties, to suit more than a very small fraction of society ; that, as is likely in all new discoveries, he carried his confidence in it too far ; that after the cure was seemingly completed, it was hardly pos- sible to continue such a course at home, as should be at all satisfactory, because the appliances required a peculiar ar- rangement and attendance which few ordinary houses pos- sessed ; and finally, that if the patients would consent to use but half the strenuous perseverance in bathing, friction, temperance, and exercise, which they would be obliged to use at a Hydropathic establishment, along with gentle med- icine, under the care of an experienced physician, there was no reason to doubt that the result would be more speedy and beneficial, in most cases ; notwithstanding the fact that much advantage is derived from the change of air and scene, the excitement of company, and the freedom from care, which may be enjoyed by those that can afibrd the cost of a regular institution. But the Faculty are still more severe upon the Homoeo- pathic system, which they generally denounce as an unprin- cipled imposition upon human credulity. Here, indeed, they cannot find fault with the ignorance of its author, Hahnemann ; because he was one of the most learned phy- CHAP. XVn.] HOMCEOPATHT. 229 sieians in Germany. Neither can they accuse him of rash- ness in innovating upon the previous practice, because he and a circle of his friends carried on a regular series of experiments — ^first on their own bodies and next in the pub- lic hospitals — during forty years together, for the express purpose of testing the truth of his fundamental theory, Similia similiius curantur. Nevertheless, they cast un- sparing ridicule upon the maxim of this new school, that the effects of every remedy are increased by the smallness of the quantity, provided it be taken in a state of exceed- ingly minute division. They condemn the idea that every medicine is a specific for one set of symptoms, by its power of producing similar symptoms in the healthy constitution. And they insist that the results of the Homoeopathic treat- ment are only favorable in those cases, where the patient would have recovered without any medicine' at all. "With respect to the first of these objections, which is the principal ground of attack, it does not seem to me that Hahnemann has been dealt with fairly. There is certainly nothing absurd in the proposition that the smaller the dose of a medicine, the more powerful may be its effect, provided it be taken in a state of exceedingly minute division ; when we remember that in such a case it is likely to entej' the system by absorption, and thus operate in a very different and far more thorough way, than if it passed only through the stomach and the intestines. For this is the old, well- established theory of the regular school itself, with regard to the favorite medicine, Calomel. Given in a dose of ten to fifteen grains, it acts as a pui-gative and passes away ; but given in repeated doses of half a grain or less, it re- mains, is absorbed, and enters the system ; producing that extraordinary disease called Salivation, which has been gen- 230 HOMCEOPATHT. [CHAP. XVH. erally relied on, in extreme cases, to conquer the disorder, although it seldom fails to impress its own specific effects upon the constitution for a long while, if not for life. Here, then, is one well known and indisputable example of the Homoeopathic principle, that a minute dose will operate in quite a different way, and beyond comparison more power- fully than a large one. But this is not the whole of the truth with respect to mercury ; for it is known to salivate the workmen who accidentally breathe it in the gaseous form, or handle it in the silvering of looking-glasses ; and physicians have often preferred to bring on salivation by rubbing it into the groins. That sulphur, taken in small doses, also enters the system and passes through the pores, is another familiar fact, in support of the same principle. There are many other facts, however, which lead to a similar conclusion. Take the case of hydrophobia, the most terrible of all diseases, and yet produced from the very small quantity of the slaver of a mad dog, which can be introduced into the trifling wound made by the tooth of the animal. But small as it is, it operates in due time by entering the system. The same is true of the venom of the cobra di capello, or of the rattlesnake. In no case, how- ever, is the principle more manifest than in the practice of vaccination, where a quantity of matter, so minute as to be taken on the end of a needle, and only inserted beneath the skin, produces such a change, that the individual is be- lieved to be made proof against the powerful contagion of the small-pox, for life ; supposing this little homoeopathic dose to be administered properly. But the same fact meets us in other forms elsewhere. How small a quantity of morbific matter in the air must that be, which produces fall fevers and intermittents, in CHAP. XTII.] HOMCEOPATHT. 231 some seasons and countries ; and in others, the yellow fever, the cholera, and the plague? This last is known to be communicated even by the garments of a person who has been dead for years. Nor is this one whit more strange than the common experience of contagion from the mea- sles or the scarlet fever. In fine, whenever the agent can be so applied as to enter the system through the absorbent vessels, or the blood ; the effect must needs be most power- ful and abiding. Since, then, the familiar instance of sali- vation produced by the small dose of calomel, as well as by tiie absorption of mercury by the shin, or breathing its vapor by the lungs, clearly proves the superior force of smallness of quantity over large, on the princvple of absorp- tion into the system, it is surely a sufficient justification of Hahnemann to say that he has thought it reasonable to re- gard it as the expression of a general law, instead of a special exception. For it is manifestly impossible to show why such should be the fact with calomel and sulphur, and yet not be equally true with every other medicine. Hence, too, the importance which he attaches to the minute sub- division ; because it is evident that the more minute the particles of medicinal matter may be, the more readily they must be taken up by the delicate absorbent vessels — a fact which probably explains the admirable eftect of mineral waters, where the amount of the mineral is so very small, but in a state of perfect dilution. How far this minute- ness should be carried, is a question of experiment. Hahne- mann may perhaps have carried it to an extravagant extreme; but granting this, it is evident that it is an error on the safe side, and therefore it is hardly worth while to cavil at it. The next point of attack which the regular Faculty seem to think most assailable, is the homoeopathic principle that 232 HOMCEOPATHT. [CHAP. XVII. " like cures like" {similia similihus curantur) ; in other words, the medicines which will cure a disease according to their system are such, that if taken by a man in health, they would produce symptoms resembling those of the dis- order. The maxim usually held by the established school is the reverse, viz., that diseases are cured by their con- traries. Here again, however, there seems to be enough of acknowledged facts in the older system, to warrant the principle of Hahnemann ; or at least to prove that it cannot be justly charged with absurdity. Thus, cathartics are given to cure diarrhoea and dysentery. Emetics are ad- ministered in sickness of the stomach. Blisters are applied to relieve inflammation of the pleura. Spirits of turpen- tine is used in burns. And snow is the best remedy for parts that are frozen. But I have already shown, that the principle on which medicines operate must always be a matter of conjecture, and can only be derived from the facts proved by actual experiments. The mystery of the human frame is too profound for the knowledge of any but the Creator. That theory is most likely to be right, there- fore, with which the facts are in the best agreement ; and hence the probability in favor of Hahnemann consists in this : that his theory is in accordance with a series of the most careful experiments, conducted by himself and his fi'iends for forty years together. On that ground, at least, it challenges an extraordinary amount of respectful con- sideration ; because its author has set the only example, since the woi4d began, of a systematic and persevering pursuit of such an object, through so long and laborious a course. The records of these experiments fill several bulky volumes, and form a wonderful monument of medical in- dustry and devotion. Nor is it possible to reflect on the CHAP. XVn.] TEUTH IN ALL. 233 marked peculiarity that all these experitaents were tried on Hahnemann and hisfriends, before they were tried on their patients, without a feeling of reverence for the lofty spirit of resolution and self-denial which inspired the task ; and a strong conviction that no theory was ever set forth with more anxious diligence and personal suffering, for the attainment of truth and the welfare of humanity. I have said thus much, not because I pretend to decide between the various medical systems of our day — since such an attempt would be quite out of my province — but as a matter of candor and fair impartiality. For myself, I regard them all with deep respect ; and am strongly inclined to believe that there is a large amount of useful knowledge and serviceable practice in every one of them. I see no reason to doubt, that as the body may be nourished by a great variety of food, so likewise its maladies may be cured by a great variety of treatment. My only object is to show why the regular Faculty should regard their rivals with indulgence, rather than denounce them with con- temptuous asperity. Their position is so strong, that they could well afford to be generous. The bitterness of contro- versy is never justifiable even in theological disputes, al- though here we have an infallible directory in the Word of God, from which it is not lawful for any man to deviate. But how much less is this bitterness to be sanctioned in the art of medicine, where there can be no revelation claimed by any party, and the most careful and learned practitioner is so liable to error, owing to the inscrutable and mysterious organism of the human frame ? ' Under these circumstances, I should be disposed to ad- vise the young physician to guard against this second danger of dreading the term Quack, whenever he ventures 234 ■ THIED DANGEE OF THE PHTSICIAN. [CHAP. XVH. to judge for himself amongst the various systems around him. He has no right, indeed, to adopt wanton changes in the old established practice ; nor to condemn or set aside, in the humor of capricious rashness, the wisdom of those who are eminent, in the regular schools, for then- experience and their learning. But neither, on the other hand, has he a right to suppose that all true medical knowledge is con- fined to the professor's chair, so that every new discovery which is not yet endorsed by the Faculty, must be treated as a vile and worthless imposition. Kather let him resolve to be kind and liberal in his feelings towards all who are laboring, like himself, in the great work of alleviating the pains and sufferings of our common nature. Let him ex- amine their claims with candor and courtesy, even if he should be obliged to think them utterly mistaken. And thus he will be far more likely to keep his own temper of mind in the best condition for the acknowledgment of truth, and help to infuse a benevolent and just spirit amongst the members of his admirable profession. There is a third danger which is sure to beset the physi- cian, at every age, although the young practitioner is most likely to feel it, viz., the temptation to stimulate the hopes of the patient, by holding out a false prospect of recovery, until the last energies of nature are prostrated, and the hour of dissolution is at hand. The reasons assigned for this common act of well-meant deception are plausible. It is said that no man can be sure of a fatal result at an earlier period, since many cases have occurred where the sick man became well, even after the doctor had given him up as incurable. Moreover, there are very few patients who can bear to be told that they are in danger, without a sinking of the spirits, which is a serious obstacle in the way CHAP. XVn.] DUTT OF CANDOE. 235 of their restoration, A strong hope, or even faith, that they will recover, is itself a powerful medicine, of which the physician is not justified in depriving them, a moment sooner than he is compelled, by the most stringent neces- sity. The same hope is a comfort to their family, and it seems cruel to take it away until it can be entertained no longer. No one thanks the doctor for being the messenger of death ; and hence, in every aspect of the matter, it seems that duty to his patients, to their families, and to him- self, requires him to keep back the sorrowful information as long as possible. I shall not deny that this view of the subject is very plausible ; and yet 1 am quite persuaded that it is alto- gether fallacious, on the double ground of religious and worldly duty. This must be apparent, I think, from the following considerations. I grant, of course, that no physician can be sure of a fatal result, until the hour of dissolution is at hand. But it is equally true that every disease may prove mortal. Why, then, does not the physician state, at the beginning of his attendance, that although there is good reason to hope for a cure, yet it is only known to God whether a cure shall be effected ? Why does he omit all reference to the Supreme Disposer, when his position gives him the best possible opportunity of leading his patient to look upward to the Great Physician, in faith and prayer ? For it is certain that this is the best frame of mind for the success of medi- cal skill, because it is the most free from anxiety, impa- tience, and perturbation. And no man who believes in the sublime truths of the future life and judgment, can doubt that it is the only frame of mind fit for the condition of a sinful being, lying on a bed of weakness and pain, from 236 RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE. [CHAP. XVII. which it is at least possible that he may never rise again, in health and vigor. But this is not the whole of the question, in a remedial point of view. If the physician be, as every physician should be presumed in a Christian community, a believer in the Gospel, he must be conscious that the whole success of his efforts may depend on prayer. And therefore he is bound to use that best of medicines, and to remind his pa- tient of the duty of using it also. Even infidels themselves are aware of the powerful effect of this upon the feelings of the sufferer, although they regard it as the product of delu- sion. They know how important it is to the recovery of their patient, that he should have confidence in the skill and faithfulness of his human physician. How vastly more important that he should believe himself to be in the hands of the Great Physician, whose power is infinite, and whose mercy is divine ! And the duty is equally plain on the score of temporal interest. Every patient should be reminded, at the begin- ning, of the possibility of death, that he may put his worldly affairs in order. For this is the surest way to relieve his thoughts, as far as may be, from all anxiety upon the sub- ject of his family ; and save him from the risk of leaving them in confusion and difficulty, by postponing his arrange- ments to the last few hours before the parting struggle. It may be said, indeed, that such suggestions do not belong to the province of the physician, whose business is with the body of his patient, and not with his soul, nor with his temporal circumstances. But to this I would rejjly that they belong to the physician, for the very reason that he is bound to do his utmost for the body, and knows that so long as that body is united to the soul and the mind, the condi- CHAP. XVn.] EELIGIOrS mFLUEWCE. 237 tion of both imist be of high importance to the patient's re- covery. No physician neglects to insist on the necessity of keeping the sick man quiet, imdisturbed by visits or con- versation, and free from all mental agitation or excitement. So far, he is right. But why does he not go farther, by re- commending that incomparably superior repose and peace, which the suiferer can only find in the calm resignation of religious principle ? It may be said again, that this course comes rather within the office of the clei'gyman, and therefore it should be left to him exclusively. And I answer, that although it does indeed come within the office of the clergyman, yet it is none the less incumbent on the physician, not as a substi- tute for the minister, nor by using his functions, but at least so far as may give the right direction to the patient's thoughts and feelings, in reference to his cure. And that this should be done by the physician, is the more evident from the fact that, in a great majority of cases, he is the only person who can do it at all. The clergjTnan is rarely sent for, until hope is nearly extinguished ; and full often, his only knowledge of the case comes along with a request to attend the funeral. But the physician is present from the beginning of the malady. A few words from his lips come with peculiar power, far greater, in the case of most men, than a long exhortation from the pastor. How easy for him, at his first visit, after having made the usual in- quiries and prescriptions, to say, " My good friend, I trust you will do well, and I see no reason to think you in dan- ger. But the truth is, that none can foresee the result of any illness with certainty, except the Great Physician. Without His blessing, all that man can do amounts to noth- ing. I hope, therefore, that you will put your chief confi- 238 EESPONSIBILITT. [CHAF. XVH. dence in Him. Ton will find faith in Ms goodness, and prayer for his mercy, your best medicine." A little counsel like this, given in a low voice, but in an affectionate and simple way, would be all-sufiicient for the occasion ; and it might be followed up to any extent which circumstances might dictate, though always in the same cordial and in- formal manner, from day to day. And then the physician would have no reason to fear any sinking of the sick man's spirits, when he was obliged to talk of death, or to suggest the settlement of his worldly business ; because he would have laid the basis of perfect candor from the first, and his course would be understood throughout, as marked by the same consistent truth, and the same genuine and kindly in- terest for the patient's welfare. The system pursued by many, 1 am sorry to say, is one of the gravest responsibility. For it frequently happens, not only that the physician talks to the diseased man precisely as if he had no soul, and was not in the hands of any Deity ; but that all visitors, — not excepting the clergyman, — are denied access to the patient's chamber, by the doctor's di- rections ; so that nothing may be said which can alarm the conscience or the fears of the sufferer, until it is too late. If the consequences of death, coming in the midst of unrepent- ed stn and thoughtless stupidity, be perilous to the hope of the future, is he not responsible who was chosen to watch over the victim, and who saw the approaching consumma- tion, yet would neither give the warning himself, nor advise his patient to send for a Christian minister ? Such a course is only to be justified by the assumption of the infidel, that there is no hereafter. But I have already shown that no infidel can be an American citizen, in true consistency with the Constitution. And I am equally persuaded that no man CBAP. XVni.] DANGEES OF THE EIMiTOE. 239 can be rightly qualified to heal thie diseases of the bod^f^' who neglects or despises its union wi4h the soul. CHAPTEK XYIII. THE DANGEES OF THE EDITOR. The range of avocations which make up the complex system of civilized and social life, presents no business of such extended influence as that of the editor. For his periodical issue is read by thousands, day after day; he descants upon a larger variety of persons and subjects than any other ; and his opinions are received with peculiar re- spect from the mass of his readers, under the idea that he is an organ of public sentiment. It is usually considered to be a special privilege that the United States possess so great a number of this important class of authors ; and when we remember that the newspaper forms the favorite reading of young and old, and that very little else is perused by a con- siderable proportion of our citizens, it is not easy to exag- gerate the result produced by this most popular sort of literature. And yet, when we come to analyze the matter, it is ex- ceedingly diflScult to define that result ; or even to conjecture what its character may be, with respect to the great objects of human thought and the true principles of choice and con- duct. We open the welcome sheet, in general, under the simple impulse of curiosity. First, there is the foreign news, if there have been any late arrival. Then there is a column or more of the proceedings of some public meeting, religious, philanthropic, or political. Presently we have an- 240 VAEIETT OF TOPICS. [cHAP. XTHI. other column filled with accidents, with calamities, and crimes. Next we may come to some remarks of interest to the agriculturist ; next, to. extensive notices of dramatic and musical performances ; next, to a review of books and pam- phlets, the last issues of the teeming press. From, this we turn to the proceedings in Congress and the Legislature, if they be in session. After these, our attention is invited to letters from Paris, from London, or some other quarter. The markets, the stocks, the shipping intelligence, the new inventions, the latest fashions, a horse-race, the watering- places, the crops, the weather, with twenty or thii-ty other items of information, fill up the rest ; saving only that a due space is always occupied by an editorial, usually about po- litical matters, and written, for the most part, with judg- ment and ability ; while a fair amount of room is appropri- ated to the strains of poetry, to jokes or anecdotes ; and — especially in the smaller papers of the rural districts — to some sentimental or romantic story. The tact and skill exhibited in this wonderful variety are certainly surprising ; although we know that under the ad- mirable system of the division of labor, adopted in the large establishments of our cities, it becomes a thing of almost mechanical routine. The object is, of course, to suit, as far as possible, the taste of every reader ; and this seems to be a very proper object, since all the subscribers have equal rights, and each is entitled to receive what he would esteem as the worth of his money. ]S"evertheless, it is a question not easy to answer, How much real benefit is experienced from the perusal of such a motley product? Whether, in point of fact, each reader carries away some idea which may enlarge and improve his mind ; or whether the very variety does not cause a con- CHAP. XVIir.] FIRST EDITOEIAL DANGEE. 24:1 fused jumbling together of incongruous topics which inter- fere with each other, and effectually prevent any from ob- taining a sufficient lodgment in the. thoughts to make a clear impression. And if this last be the fact, another very serious question arises, viz.. Whether the daily custom of reading this confused mass of information has not at least a tenden- cy to weaken the common intellect; leading it off from one subject to another, and gradually increasing the difficulty of following any train of reflection, until the mind settles down, like that of a child, into a kind of impulsive imbecility ? I state the problem, without any intention of solving it. It is much more easy to pick flaws in the course of our editors, than to suggest any serious improvement. Cer- tainly, on the whole, I have rather been inclined to wonder that they do their work so well. And considering that they are bound to furnish a variety of intelligence which is cal- culated for the public taste, by the very character expressed in the word Newspaper, I think there is as little gromid of complaint in the management of those with which I am best acquainted, as could possibly be expected under the inevitable law of human imperfection. That the editorial business, however, has its peculiar dan- gers, no one can deny. And therefore I shall proceed, in accordance with my general plan, to offer some suggestions on the moral principle which should guide the American citizen in conducting it ; since the wide diffusion of its prod- ucts and the daily reiteration of its teachings place it in the first, if not the highest, rank of the influences, which are constantly operating on the character and destiny of the nation, not only in reference to our internal welfare, but in the judgment of the world. The first of these dangers arises from the temptation of 11 242 PARTY SPIETT. • [CHAP. XVm. partj-spirit, from which it is very difficult to guard the mind of any man standing, as the public editor must usu. ally stand, in the position of an active leader. In the States of ancient Greece, the orators were often called " the watch- dogs of the republic," because their voice aroused the peo- ple to every peril which, either from without or from within, might threaten the common welfare. But this appellation may be still more fitly applied to our editors, who rightly esteem themselves the guardians of tbe land. And hence arises the duty of guarding against the errors, which are so apt to attend the influence of party-spirit. Of course, it would be absurd to desire that there should be no parties. Wherever there is freedom there must be party, because all men cannot think alike on any question of national policy ; and they naturally divide into parties, according to the varieties of opinion which attract their attention ; and these parties as naturally contend against each jather for supremacy. To this there can be no objec- tion, so long as they strive only for what is honestly be- lieved to be the public good, and employ no other means but those of fair and open argument. The danger lies in the inevitable tendency of party to produce party-spirit — that is, a spirit which seeks, in the first place, the triumpb of the party, and is ready to use for that single end every available instrumentality, without the slightest regard to its consistency with truth or honor — without ever pausing to inquire whether any error in public policy is likely to be so fatal in the end, as the adoption of a course which must dis- gust the virtuous and the pure, and poison the moral sense of the vast majority. Unfortunately, the very system of universal suffrage, which forms the. glory of our Constitution, has produced tiie CHAP. XVrrr.] • tnSTTEESAL SUOT-EASB. 24S supposed necessity and the specious apology for all the ma- ehinery of i)arty corruption. There could be no system more admirably devised, if every voter were a man of vir- tue and intelligence. But the masses of our national popu- lation have long been composed of very diiferent materials from those of the last century. The influx of foreigners has been so great, that in many of oiir larger cities they nearly equal, and in some they even outnumber, the native citizens. Thus, by the last census, taken in 1850, it appears that Kew York contained 277,752 native born, and 235,733 foreigners, Philadelphia " 286,346 " " 121,699 " St. Louis " 36,529 " " 38,397 " Milwankie " 7,181 " " 12,782 " Cincinnati " 60,558 " " 54,541 « New Orleans " 50,470 " " 48,601 " The other cities contain a smaller propoi'tion of foreigners, but all have so many as to exert a very strong influence over the native population ; and I need hardly say, that, however useful and acceptable those foreigners may be in other respects, they are generally far better adapted to the monarchical countries from which they came, than to the republican theory of our political institutions. But independently of all speculations about the causes, ibefact is undeniable that universal sufli-age can only be exercised under some management, by which the intelli- gence of the few may direct and control the action of the many. These few must be men who make politics their business, who therefore become the leaders of parties, and whose success depends upon the number of votes which they can bring into the field. To this end they often rely on the prejudices, the passions, and the personal interests of their followers, fer more than on their virtue and intelli- 24* EVILS OF PAETT SPIEIT. " [CHAP. XVni. gence, because they consider themselves obliged to take human nature as it is, and not as it ought to be. And as the editors occupy a most important place amongst these leaders,— the Press being an essential instrument to the plans of each party,— it results, by a species of apparent necessity, that they address the people in all the various ways which are supposed to be most available. Hence, party is rarely maintained without party-spirit. And party-spirit is the spirit of war, which contends for victory, and holds every stratagem to be allowable by which victory may be secured. Therefore, the editor, being usu- ally the mouthpiece of the party, — or rather, I should say, the mouthpiece of the leaders, — is seduced by his posi- tion into the whole immorality of the occasion. Truth must be sacrificed, if falsehood is more likely to prevail. The candidates selected by each party must be systematically lauded, and those opposed to it as systematically depreciated, by all the arts of unscrupulous ingenuity. Public meetings must be gotten up in as many quarters as possible, the res- olutions cut and dried, and the speakers drilled beforehand, and the M'hole set forth by editorial skill, as if it were the spontaneous utterance of the people. Biographical sketches must be published, in which the previous life of each can- didate is industriously ransacked, to find, on the one side, something to praise, and, on the other, something to vilify. The party is proclaimed, with its platform or its principles, as if the very existence of the nation depended on its suc- cess ; and every other is denounced, as if it had leagued to- gether for the ruin of the country. And the editor, in the whole, must be the Nestor and the Achilles, wise in council, invincible in the field, and always prepared, with argu- ments, with sophistry, with inuendo, with sarcasm, with CHAP. XVIII.] COEEUPTION AND VIOLENCE. 245 ridicule, witli sneers, with predictions, threats, promises, or any other implement of available dexterity, to marshal the ti'usty band of thorough partisans to the work of electioneer- ing, and leave no efibrt untried, that may aid in securing tlie expected victory. This is lamentable enough, and yet it falls far short of the whole practical system of political corruption, which the editors themselves charge upon the tactics of party. Thus it is averred, on all sides, that bribery is employed to a large extent ; that pugilists and ruffians of the lowest stamp are hired to intimidate honest and peaceable citizens ; that votes are received from hundreds and thousands who are not legally qualified ; that great numbers of foreigners are naturalized, who are unfitted, both by their gross ignorance and th6ir lack- of moral character, for the duties of an American citizen ; that men are brought to the polls from the lowest haunts of vice, to give their ballots at the dic- tation of their leaders ; and that the editors whose party is worsted in. the contest, and who complain loudly of the cor- ruption of their antagonists, are never honest enough to confess their own. The evil of this state of things is manifest, and the con- sequences must be ultimately deplorable, if no remedy can be applied in time. Already it is well known, that the most pure and enlightened men throughout the nation are disgusted, and keep themselves aloof from politics, because they cannot descend to the management which is thought necessary to success. Already it is confessed, that the per- sons elected to office are rarely taken from the class, on whose principles and patriotism the people might fairly rely. The golden age of the Kepublic, if there was ever such a period, seems to have gone out with Washington ; 24:6 NECESSITY OF EEFOEM. [cHAP. XVm. and the age of silver has gone after it, and the age of brass is now running its rapid course, to be followed by the age of iron. But the editors of the land are the most deeply involved, by their talents and position, in the management of our democratic machinery ; and it lies mainly with them to reform the existing abuses, supposing that reform be possible. Alas ! it may be impossible. The only real basis of our universal suffrage is in the virtue and intelligence of the citizens, united in support of the Constitution and the laws, under the sanction of the Christian religion. If that be secure amongst the great body of our people, there is no government on earth so strong as our republic. But if it fail, its place cannot long be supplied by the schemes of political expediency. A corrupt monarchy may hold to- gether for a long season, because it combines in one head the elements of interest and power. A corrupt aristocracy may endure, if the rulers be wise enough to see that their safety depends upon their union. But a corrujjt republic has no substitute for lost virtue. There, the people are the sovereign, and there is no ruling power except it be in ac- cordance with their will. We have no throne to reverence, besides the throne of God. We have no hereditary nobles, identified, by their vast possessions and their titles of honor, with the preservation of law and order. We have no es- tablished Church, to act as a potent bond of conservatism. We have no standing army sufficient to put down the popu- lar discontent, because with us, every citizen is a soldier. There is nothing on which we can rely, therefore, if we lose our reverence for the Constitution and the laws. And there is nothing able to secure that reverence, if we lose the sense of religious obligation. For it is this which gives a stan- dard to virtue. It is this which bestows validity on the CHAP. Xrm.'] EDITOEIAL CONVENTIONS. 247 oath of allegiance, the oath of office, and the oath of justice; thus bringing the conscience of each individual under direct subordination to the supreme Government of heaven. But although I confess that there is more than enough, in the present condition of our country, to fill the thoughtful mind with gloomy apprehension, yet it is not the part of any good citizen to despair of the republic. Eather let us look the evil in the face, like men of principle and courage ; and see if there be not some practical mode of action, suited to our habits, by which, under favor of Providence, a better and a purer system might be attaiued. The editors of our newspapers, as I have shown, are the class whose business calls them to be, pre-eminently, the guardians of the republic. Through them, above all others, the citizens of our land receive their general ideas, es- pecially with regard to the discharge of their political duties. If the editors were always right, therefore, it is manifest that the people could not be wrong. And hence, the great desideratum^ in my opinion, is to adopt some plan, by which those whose chosen function it is to govern the public, may first learn how to govern themselves. Suppose, then, that this vastly important class were to become voluntarily organized into a regular society ; the editors of each State holding a convention once a year, and electing delegates to a general convention of the editorial fraternity from all the States in the Union, to be assembled once in every four years, for the following purposes : 1. That the State convention of editors should nominate those candidates for all the officers of that State, which they shall think worthy of being elected by the people ; not con- fining the choice, however, to one name, but always select- 248 EDITORIAL CONVENTIOSS. [CHAP. XVm. ing two or three from those who have the largest number of votes as the fittest candidates. 2. That the convention shall establish the laws of edi- torial justice and propriety ; forbidding all unfair manage- ment, iDribery, and corruption ; enjoining courtesy, modera- tion, and strict regard to truth ; and censuring or expelling from the convention, if need be, every editor who is shown to have abused his office, by profaneness or venality. 3. That the convention shall recognize the profession of an editor according to its real dignity, as the guardian and conservator of the public welfare ; pledged to raise and purify the morals and habits of the citizens, and support the honor, peace, and permanent interests of the whole Union. 4. That the convention shall freely discuss all questions involved in the range of editorial duty ; not infringing upon the liberty of speech or sentiment, but seeking, by a free interchange of views, to promote the cause of truth, and strengthen each member in his efforts to sustain it. 5. And lastly, that the general convention of editors, holden in every fourth year, shall nominate, in like manner, the candidates for the offices of President and Vice Presi- dent, setting forth two or three names for each, to be pre- sented to the people : the same rules being laid down, and the same range of subjects being open to discussion, as in the editorial convention of the State. The effects of such a plan, as it seems to my humble judgment, would be highly beneficial. And some of these I shall proceed to specify. It has been already granted that the exercise of universal suffrage demands, of necessity, the agency of a compara- tive few, as leaders for the many. The business of nomi- nating the candidates must therefore be done by a small CHAP. SVIII.] EDITOEIAL CONVENTIONS. 249 number of managers, and to this there can be no reason- able objection. But yet, since this is, evidently, a most important work, it ought to be done by a known and re- sponsible body; instead of being, as now, the dictate of secret and transient cliques, whose preparatory movements are shrouded in mystery, and open to grave suspicion. There is no class of citizens so well qualified for this work, as the editors of the public press, because it is their express busi- ness to watch the course of prominent individuals, and to keep a constant eye upon every thing connected with the general welfare. And therefore the nominations made by them, in a regular convention, would be entitled to more weight than those produced in the ordinary way ; and be far less liable to the reproach of intrigue and corruption. The plan proposed would have the further advantage of relieving the community from almost all of the troublesome and costly excitement, which now produces such a periodi- cal fever through the land ; calling thousands away from their business and their homes to attend political meetings, and multiplying tenfold the expense and the annoyance which the proper exercise of the elective franchise requires. For although the convention of editors would not by any means prevent or destroy the existence of parties, and therefore the candidates recommended would represent their respective parties as truly as they now do, yet the ten- dency of the plan would be to soften the asperity of party spirit, and counteract that violence and extravagance which are the chief support of political excitement, and thus leave the citizens to prepare for the election day by a sober use of their own judgment, in quietness and peace. Chiefly, however, I should anticipate, from these edito- rial conventions, a large advance in the wisdom, the con- 250 OTHER ABUSES. [CHAP. XVm. scientiousness, and the purifying influence of this most im- portant profession. I believe that, as a class, they have no superiors in talent, intelligence, and genuine patriotism. But they stand too much alone, to be felt as a real power in the republic. Each man, although a person of conse- quence in his own particular circle, is too apt to be a tool in the hands of party leaders ; compelled to take their judg- ment, even though far inferior to his own. And therefore I should desire that our editors might rise to their true level, by the strength of association. In mutual council, they would gather knowledge, system, and confidence, for their high office, as guardians of the countiy, and instructors of the people. The loftier and more generous spirits amongst them, would give tone to the character of the whole. They Would learn to stand by each other, as an immovable pha- lanx, in support of religion and morality, the Constitution and the laws, against the inroads of fanatical hypocrisy, popular licentiousness, and venal corruption. And the re- solves of their assembled wisdom, sustained by each sepa- rate press, would become not only a sure dependence of virtue and intelligence throughout our own land, but a bright exatuple in the sight of the civilized world, worthy of admiring imitation. I have occupied more space than I anticipated, in the discussion of this topic ; but yet I may not conclude without a brief notice of some other dangers which beset the editor of the newspaper, and against which a conscientious man is bound to be carefully on his guard. It is said to be a frequent practice to have an advertise- ment published as an editorial, by paying an extra price. And it is well worth the diiference to the advertiser, be- cause he is not only sure that his puff will be i-ead, but that (SSAP. Xf m.] 6THEK ABUSES. 251 the public will have far more faith in his claims to their eonfidence, when they see that the editor has become a volunteer, as they suppose, in this spontaneous commenda- tion. But this practice is certainly to be condemned, on the plain ground of deception. The editor takes his money for allowing the advertiser to obtain business "by false pretences. He tells the innocent public that he approves what he has never examined. He sells an opinion which he has not formed, and he is paid for what he knows to be a fabrica- tion. True, he doubtless thinks it a very innocent deceit. He gains his profit. The advertiser flourishes in his busi- ness. And there is no harm done. But there is always harm done when gain is made by any sort of imposition. It is encouraging evil in the party who pays for the fraud, and it is a wound to the moral sense of the editor. Another danger lies in wait for the pi'oprietors of our city papers, which is of serious importance. I allude to the common custom of using a large part of the Christian Sab- bath in printing the issue for Monday morning ; thereby de- priving the workmen of their religious privileges without any real necessity, and breaking the laws of God and man. Certainly, the proprietors might at least adopt the Pm'itan mode, of making the Sabbath begin on Saturday, at sunset, and ending it at sunset on the following day. And even if the Monday's paper were a few hours later, it would be no real loss to the reader ; nor can I believe that the public would fail to approve the act, if all the city editors should meet together, and resolve that their printing-oflBces should be closed entirely during that consecrated time when man is commanded to cease from his labor. J shall notice but one naore danger which demands grave 252 OTHEE ABUSES. [cHAP. XVni. consideration from all our journalists, namely, the danger incurred by the puhlication of police reports, scandalous trials, and other articles, which are unfit to be read in the family circle, and improper at all times for the eyes of youth. The defence set up for this portion of our news- paper information, is that the public have a right to expect it, and complain if it be omitted. But I deny the first part of the proposition, and doubt the second. The public have no right to a kind of intelligence which cannot possibly do good to any one, and is likely to do serious evil to the rising generation. And although there may be a portion of the public who would complain of its omission, yet I cannot doubt that the piMic at large would not merely approve the change, but approve it cordially. The same argument applies to the publication of all idle jests upon the ministers of God, all witticisms upon the Sa- cred Scriptui'es, and all light, irreverent, and profane ex- pressions, calculated to raise contempt, or infuse the spirit of infidelity, towards the Gospel of the Saviour. These of- fences against the true principles of editorial duty are not unusual, I am sorry to say, even where the best principles are generally inculcated. It is not that I am opposed to genuine wit or humor. I can see no possible objection to an innocent laugh, whether it be excited over the columns of a newspaper, or in the occasional sallies of the social cir- cle. But the laugh cannot be innocent, which wounds the feelings of a Christian heart. And wit and humor should never be tolerated, when they invade the sense of modesty, or the sanctity of religion. Much more might be added upon this copious theme, but that I must hasten onwards to the remaining topics of my humble volume. I would only add, in concluding my re- CHAP. XVm.] EDITORIAL EESPONSIBILITT. 253 mai'ks upon the editorial profession, that no one can hold it in higher respect than I do, or attach to its proper exercise a larger measure of importance. Let those who belong to it only understand the true dignity and extended influence of their office, and then they will seldom fail to discharge it wisely. Let them remember that they are not merely American Citizens, partners in the republic, and thus far bound to do their share for the general good ; but that they are under a special responsibility from the very nature of their chosen avocation, which makes them the guardians of the national welfare, the daily instructors of the public mind, and the regular organs of the public sentiment. In their multifarious energy, nothing escapes them. They un- dertake to advise, direct, ^and censure every other class in the community, from the President, the Houses of Congress, the governors, legislatures, judges, lawyers, and physicians, down to the scavengers who clean the streets. They do not confine themselves to things secular, but favor the nation with frequent rebukes of the ministers of God, and look sharply a^er the teachers of religion. They pronounce upon the merits of books and literature. The stage and the concert-room are under their established patronage. Sculp- tors, artists, musicians, architects, orators, share the benefits of their comprehensive stewardship. Commerce and man- ufactures, discoveries aiid inventions, all the natural sci- ences, all the useful or ornamental arts, come under their notice. Their praise is at least a pleasant substitute for fame, and their censure is dreaded as if it were the pass- port to infamy. In fine, there is not belonging to this world so manifold, so diffusive, so penetrating, so active an insti- tution as the newspaper press. Oh ! how great should be the wisdom, how pure the patriotism, how lofty the princi- 254 THE CHEIStlAN MINlSTKf . [cHAP. XIX. pies of those who guide its energy! How worthy of all honor are the editors who reach the mark of their vocation ! And how safe would be the destiny of our favored country, if the guardians of its welfare did not themselves too often lead it asti-ay ! CHAPTER XIX. THE DANGERS OF THE MINISTEE OF THE GOSPEL. I NEED hardly say that among the various avocations which are open to the American citizen, the highest, in its own nature, is that of the minister of religion. All the rest are useful, estimable, and important. But this trans- cends them, as far as the welfare of time is surpassed by the happiness of eternity. Looking no further, however, than the interests of the present life, it is certain that the laws and principles, which guard our earthly rights and en- join our worldly duties, rest upon religion as their basis. Deprived of this, we could derive no advantage from the spiritual element of our nature. The true nobility and glory of our being would be lost. The intellect and the body might remain, but their powers would sink into bru- tishness. The conscience would be utterly blotted out, and we should have no foundation left for morality and virtue. Hence, as I have already shown, the Constitution, the laws, and the entire fabric of society are protected by reli- gion. Take away religion, and you destroy the oath of allegiance, the oath of oflBce, and the whole administration of justice. For the oath is the religious bond, involving &, direct appeal to God, and demanding our assent by a ref- OHAP. XIX.] THE FIRST DANGER. 265 erence to the future judgment, which awaits eveiy soul be- fore the tribunal of the great Eedeemer. The result is manifest, that the ministers of religion are an indispensable order of men in every civilized community ; because all the rights, the duties, the peace, the enjoyment, and the secu- rity of that community depend on the maintenance of reli- gious principle. My object in these remarlts is not to exalt the ministerial profession beyond its true limit of social, legal, and politi- cal value. I shall say nothing here, therefore, of the rela- tion of the minister to the life beyond the grave. I leave untouched the precious work of conversion and sanctifica- tion in the heart, and the ineffable peace and joy of the sincere believer. For it has been my purpose, from the first, to confine myself to the connection which religion bears, of necessity, to the citizen ; and to the rules of truth, justice, and morality which concern the individual man and the public welfare, in this lower world. Under this aspect of the question, I regard the minister as an import- ant member of the State, because he belongs to a profession which is absolutely indispensable to the framework of so- ciety ; and as such, he has not only his rights to claim, and his duties to perform, but he has also many dangers in his path, worthy of special consideration. 1. The first of these, and one that is very common, is the danger of discouragement. Foi- the most part, in our day, the Christian minister does not find a fair measure of ap- preciation, as an essential memher of the body politic. Men in general are strangely blind to the vast importance of re- ligion, in the preservation of their social privileges. They respect the lawyer ; they reverence the judge ; they honor the physician; they envy the wealthy merchant; they 256 THE FIEST DAHGEE. [CHAP. XIX. ■worship the military hero and the successful politician ; but they look down upon the Christian minister as a person of small weight in the community ; totally forgetting that if it were not for the work of such as he, there would soon be no judge, no lawyer, no learned physician, no rich mer- chant, no popular statesman, no security for property or life, no civilized community. They do not stop to think that all they value in this mortal state is the product of Christianity. They do not reflect that throughout the whole world, wherever Christianity is not, there is neither liberty in union with law, nor pure morality, nor high intelligence, nor literary culture, nor elevated civilization. They forget that our own ancestors in ancient Britain, Ireland, Gaul, and Germanj'^, were barbarian savages in the days of the apos- tles ; and that it was Christianity which raised their poster- ity from their deep degradation. And they do not reflect that if the ministers of Christ should all abandon them, the whole fabric of society would soon go back to barbarism again. Of course, the Christian minister is prepared to a consid- erable degree, by the very language of his divine Master, for this marvellous stupidity and thoughtlessness of the world around him. And yet, he is exposed to the danger of discouragement, when, as often happens, he is called to struggle with cold indifference and neglect— when even in his own peculiar circle, there is but little interest in his labors — when even his own people seem to grudge the mis- erable support doled out for his necessary maintenance when every other business in the community is better paid and more regarded, than that which is the very safeguard of the whole. But still, he must endure it for the sake of Him who spent His life in doing good to His enemies in CHAP. XIX.] THE SECOND DANGER. 257 the midst of ingratitude and persecution. He must endure it for the sake of the few, who value what the majority de- spise. And he will endure it, if he leans upon the strength which is promised to his weakness; and remembers how much more was done and suffered in the Gospel ministry by thousands of his predecessors, all worthier and holier than he. 2. The second danger of the Christian minister is fear : not the fear of God, which is always an incentive to duty, but " the fear of man which bringeth a snare" — the fear of giving offence to the wealthy and the worldly portion of his congregation. The virtue of courage is in high honor among mankind. But there is no kind of coin-age so lofty in its own nature, as the moral courage required to speak the truth, when that truth is almost sure to excite dislike and opposition. Yet here, too, the faithful minister must not falter. He may be called to suffer for his honest sin- cerity. Enemies may be roused, and timid friends may de- sert him. But he knows that there is an Almighty arm raised for his protection, and that the end will be victory and peace. 3. The third danger is of an opposite character, and springs from presumption. This is an ordinary companion of ministerial success and popularity, when uncommon tal- ents, united to a bold physical temperament, gain a power- ful influence in the community ; and the admired orator is followed by crowds, and becomes intoxicated by the incense of extravagant praise and adulation. Happily for the in- terests of religion, such cases are not numerous : and hap- pily for the individual, the season of his giddy exaltation rarely exceeds a few years, and then the delusion passes away. But while it lasts, the peril is imminent that he 358 LIMITATIONS OF DUTY. [cHAP. XIX. may be misled into serious error, and bring reproach upon himself, and on the sacred cause committed to his care. These remarks must suffice, however, on the general dan- gers of the Christian minister, simply considered as it re- spects his relations to society. But there are other dangers arising out of a confused and mistaken view of his position as a member of the body politic, invested with all the rights and pledged to all the duties of an American citizen. And it may be well to examine both sides of this question, which is regarded in very opposite aspects by the world at large. On the one hand, it is said that the Christian minister has nothing to do with the affairs of this life, beyond the supply of his personal and domestic wants, and the ordi- nary intercourse of society. He must be so entirely occu- pied with the duties of his sacred calling, that he can have no judgment entitled to any weight in business, ^and espe- cially in politics. His avocation lies in the care of men's souls, which is quite enough for his time and attention. The care of their bodies, the rules of trade, the principles of law, the rights of property, and the conduct of govern- ment, are all matters with which he has no concern ; and if he meddles with them, he should be rebuked as an un- authorized intruder. On the other side, we are told that the Christian minis- ter has the same right with others, in all that belongs to the interests of humanity. That his education and position in the community qualify him for a correct judgment on the whole business of life, at least so far as regards general principles. That he may introduce at his discretion any secular topic in the pulpit, which he thinks himself capable of discussing, with advantage to his people or the public at large. That if circumstances call for his services in the CHAP. XIX.] THE TRUE MEDIDM. 269 line of politics, he is authorized to lay down his ministerial ofBce altogether, and go to the legislature or to Congress. That he may even march at the head of a military troop, in the defence of his country. And, in fine, that there is no difference between his duties as a citizen and those of any other Christian, since the law of the Gospel is precisely the same for the pastor and the flock. Between these two extremes, truth, as it seems to me, would adopt a medium. I have already shown that the ministers of religion are an essential order in every civilized State. And this, in a republic, would seem to require that each member of that order must be a citizen ; because if he be not, he is free from the duty of allegiance, and does not stand on equal ground with others. Moreover, if — as is usually the case, and always ought to be — he was a citizen before he was ordained, it is certain that there is nothing in ordination which takes the rights of citizenship away. He has become an ambassador for Christ, indeed ; and the kingdom of Christ is not of this world. But Christ is not a foreign Potentate, whose service is incompatible with the service of our government. On the contrary, He is the Spiritual Sovereign of all the earth, and embraces the whole under his supreme dominion. In precise accord- ance with this, we find St. Paul claiming to be a native of Tarsus and a citizen of Kome, notwithstanding he was an Apostle. The ministerial ofiice, therefore, interferes with no man's rights as a citizen, save only that it modifies the exercise of those rights by placing them in strict subordination to his higher duty. All his conduct must be regulated, hence- forth, by this rule of consistency ; because he cannot depart from it without a violation of the special vows which bound 260 THE TEUE MEDIUM. [CHAP. XIX. Hm to his spiritual vocation. He is no longer free to act, in all respects, as he might have lawfully acted, if those vows had not been taken. He has accepted a commission as an ambassador for Christ, and is obliged to sustain that charac- ter in al] his public services. And therefore if he voluntarily lays aside or abandons his sacred commission, in order to become a member of Congress, a Governor, or an officer un- der any earthly authority, he certainly seems guilty of a con- tempt towards the majesty of the Kedeemer, and I do not see how he can be excused. On this ground of consistency I should be obliged to cen- sure the ordained minister, who misused the pulpit, and profaned the Lord's Day, by declaiming on any subject not connected with the Gospel ; no matter how useful to the people or the public his opinions might otherwise be. For that is the day and there is the place where he is bound to appear as the ambassador of Christ ; and he has no right to employ his official powers in a cause for which they were not conferred, nor to use the Lord's house and the Lord's Day in a service for which they were not intended. Such acts of desecration show a want of proper reverence for the established order of religion, and savor not a little of the character of sacrilege. In all other respects, however, when the rights and duties of the citizen in nowise conflict with the paramount duties of the minister, there can be no good reason assigned for depriving him of their exercise ; provided always that this exei'cise be in perfect harmony with his sacred office, and yield no worthy cause of offence to intelligent Christian people. For this is the precept of the apostle, " Give no offence in any thing, that the ministry be not blamed." And there is a certain rule of congruity to be observed in CHAP. XIX.] THE TKTTE MEDIUM. 261 obedience to this maxim, whicli no minister can disregard ■withont danger to his proper influence. When St. Paul labored with his hands in tent-mating, for -example, he was not acting inconsistently ; because he did it for his necessary support, and still continued to preach the Gospel. And when he assumed the office of director during the storm and shipwreck at Malta, though it was a secular matter with which he had no official concern, he was not acting inconsistently ; because it was done in the service of humanity, with faith and prayer. But we do not find him meddling with matters of war and bloodshed, nor counselling slaves to kill their masters, nor kindling the flames of rebellion, nor exhorting the citizens to the strife of battle, nor exciting a mob to resist the law. For he re- membered that he was the ambassador of the Prince of Peace, and, like his divine Master, he commanded his dis- ciples to yield rather than strive, — not to " oppose evil with evil, but to overcome evil with good." The minister of Christ, then, is a citizen of the republic, Qaving a right to do all things which other citizens may lawfully do, with this condition — that they be not incon- sistent with the superior duties of his sacred character. He is at liberty to give his judgment on every question which concerns the welfare of the republic, like any other citizen, if he have the requisite knowledge and wisdom for the task, and his design be performed in the spirit which be- comes his office to promote " peace and good- will towards men." He may advise and counsel all classes of society to such a course in secular afiairs, as shall be best calculated for their temporal and eternal prosperity. He may give his vote quietly for his favorite candidates, and state his rea- sons when required. He may deliver an occasional lecture 262 THE SAFEST EtTLB. [cHAF. XIX. on history, morals, science, or the arts. He may lay down general principles to statesmen, lawyers, merchants, teach- ers, and physicians. He may dispense medicine to the poor, and exert himself to build schools, and hospitals, and colleges. But in all that he does, his ministerial character must suffer no violence. The spirit of the Gospel, which is peace and love, must preside over the whole. The para- mount obligations of an ambassador of Christ must never be set aside or foi-gotten. And thus he will find it practicable to unite the rights and duties of an American citizen, with his oflSce in the Church ; and furnish a proof to the woiM that " godliness is profitable for all things, having promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come." But still, in all this, there is danger ; because mankind are rarely willing to acknowledge the capacity of any one to be useful in a variety of services, and he can seldom be. regarded with respect, out of the line of his profession. Nor can we wonder at this, when we reflect upon the fact, that the ministerial office is quite enough to occupy the time and thoughts of any ordinary individual. It is not, therefore, without some reason, that men are reluctant to admit a combination of knowledge and energy which is quite out of the common track of human experience. And hence, though such an accident may sometimes occur, it is very apt to be regarded not merely with surprise, but with incredulity. A few may possibly admire, but the major part will be far more likely to censmre ; taking it for granted that the effort and industry demanded as the condition of success in any one department, cannot be divided among several without a certainty of failure ; and that the attempt to know many things is sure to result in knowing nothing well. CHAP. X3E.] ' THE SAFEST EULB. 26S I doubt not, therefore, that the safest rule for the miniS' ter of the Gospel was laid down by the apostle Paul, when he said, " I determined to know nothing else among you but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." It is the best and the wisest course in every calling, that the talents and en- ergies of the individual should be so devoted to his chosen business as to attract no public notice in any thing else, at least until his ability in this is placed beyond the risk of uncertainty. But this course seems especially .imperative ■on the clergyman, whose office consists not only in securing the highest privileges for the present life, but also in a preparation for the life to come. Hence, no measure of suc- cess can warrant the ceasing of his labors ; and even old age itself should show how the infirmity of the body may exist along with the growing ardor of the soul. Such, then, is the general rule. Like all other general rules, it may have its exceptions. Yet if the well-known maxim be true, that the exception proves the rule, it will be found pre-eminently true, to a far wider extent and for a much more important class of reasons, in the work of the ministry. CHAPTEE XX. ON THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. Feom the large range of business, in its various aspects, it is time to pass onward to the far more interesting topic of the domestic relations, for the sake of which the Ameri- can citizen usually toils with the most constant diligence. To the great majority, there is no incentive so steady aad 264 DOMESTIC RELATIONS. [CHAP. XX. 80 sure as the necessity of providing for the family, which Providence has made dependent on the industry of the husband and the father. The welfare of that family forms the most precious motive which stimulates exertion. In the circle of home centers the little world of comfort and en- joyment which fills the heart. For it he is ready to labor, to struggle, to suffer, to endure disappointments, vexations, losses, contests, poverty, and pain. He lives for it, rather than for himself; and onlj realizes the value of life in pro- portion as he can secure its peace and prosperity'-. But it is not the father and the husband alone, who has a deep stake in the domestic relations. For, the family is the first and most effective training school for all the duties of society ; and on it depends, in the vast majority of cases, the character which stamps the future course of the individual. Nothing therefore can be more essential to the American citizen than a true appreciation of the mutual connection between the husband and the wife, the parent and the child, the teacher and the pupil, the master and the servant. The whole process of education belongs to the same comprehen- sive range; and the entire man, spiritual, moral, intellectual, and physical, is moulded by its powerful influence, either for good or evil. The vast extent and importance of the principles which should regulate the domestic relations may be further shown, by the impossibility of finding, in this world, any substitute. There is no remedy for the misery of a disor- derly and ill-governed family, in wealth, in honor, or in fame. And he whose home is not happy, whatever may be the measure of his success in the other objects of life, has lost the dearest prize of his earthly labor. The consideration of the numerous questions, which arise CHAP. XX.] EAELY MAEEIAGE. 265 under this prolific branch of rights and duties, will require several distinct divisions : and the natural order of the sub- ject presents, in the first place, the inquiry, whether youth is the proper season for entering into the matrimonial state, to which I shall devote the remainder of this chapter. It is common, in our days, to consider early marriages as imprudent and even unjustifiable. Physicians condemn tliem on the ground, that the constitutions of the parties are not sufficiently mature to produce a healthy and vigorous ofispring. Economists condemn them, because young men are rarely in circumstances which will bear the expense. Many others condemn them, because they see so much dis- appointment and trouble arising out of matrimony, when the wedded pair are deficient in sense and true principle, that they naturally conclude it to be far better to postpone this most serious of all relations until a riper age of experi- ence and discretion. And there are not a few who are dis- posed to prefer the freedom of a single life, as far less liable to suflPering and sorrow. But all these reasons seem to me of little weight, when opposed to the manifest designs of Providence, the general authority of Scripture, and the instincts and affections im- planted in the human heart. "With respect to the first ob- jection, the physicians know perfectly well that the delay of marriage is no safeguard against the fearful risks of youth- ful licentiousness ; which are not only fatal to the strength of the constitution, but often lay the foundation for the most terrible diseases, and thus doom the unhappy offspring of a late marriage to an inheritance of debility and prema- ture decay. Jifature points to early marriage as the true normal condition of our race ; and experience proves it to be the best practical protection of health, of reasonable 12 266 OBJECTIONS ANSWEEED. [CHAP. XX. continence, and of sound morality. We find, according- ly, that the people of Israel held this to be a settled rule,, in pursuance of the divine law laid down in the beginning. We see the apostle Paul, also, notwithstanding his indi- vidual preference of celibacy, establishing the same prac- tice, where he saith : " Let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have her own husband."* Tliis is further confirmed by his emphatic declaration, " Mandage is honorable in all."t And the design of the Creator is wonderfully manifested to this day from the well-known fact ascertained by the published statistics of all civilized na- tions, that the males and the females born in every country are almost precisely equal in number. What general maxim of human society can be more fully proved than this, when the voice of religion, the results of experience, and the fixed order of divine Providence, concur so har- moniously in the same conclusion? The second objection, namely, that early marriage is to be avoided " because young men are rarely in circumstances which vsdll bear the expense," is doubtless more operative in a multitude of instances. This, however, when fairly ex- amined, will be found to be only true, through the preva- lence of those luxurious and effeminate habits, which are hostile not merely to marriage, but to all the solid comforts and sober virtues of life. If our young women were edu- cated in the love and practice of domestic labor, with a wise contempt of the costly ornaments of fashion, and a fixed determination to disregard the notions of the vain and silly society around them, devoted to the rules of duty, and the peaceful enjoyments of home, there would be no * 1 Cor. vU. 2. t Heb. xiii. 4. GHAP. XX.] OBJECTIOITS ANSWERED. 267 ground left to fear the expense of early marriage. For on the ti'ue theory of wedlock, the wife would be a hdp and not a hindrance, earning her appropi'iate share of all tem- poral necessaries, and cheerfully resigning the poor ambi- tion of being a fine lady, for the far higher praise of being an associate in the work as well as in the pleasures of her husband. And thus it would be found perfectly practicable to have a home and raise a family, on a smaller income, than a majority of our single men now throw away on boarding-houses, with the adjuncts of amusement and dissipation. That this is no impracticable notion, is sufficiently demon- strated by the facts which are notorious amongst all ob- servers. The laboring class are usually married in early life, and contrive to live and raise up large families, upon an income of two or three hundred dollars a year. How is this ? Simply because the wife works in her sphere as hard as her husband, and they are content with the reasona- ble comforts, without the idle superfluities of life. But this kind of argument, I am aware, would revolt my readers. They repel, at once, the idea of living on a level with the vulgar, the uneducated, the unenlightened mass, which constitutes the lower orders of society. Let me ask their attention, then, to the condition of the clergy, whose salaries, on a general average throughout the land, do not exceed six hundred dollars. Yet these men are usually married early. They are educated, often highly. Their wives are educated, and quite equal, in refinement of in- tellect and manners, to the best standard of society. And these, too, contrive to live and train up a numerous off- spring. How ? By the same management precisely. They dispense with superfluities. They do their own domestic 268 OBJECTIONS ANSWEEED. [cHAP- XX. work. They help themselves and each other. They teach their children to do their share of the common labor. And thus, by a well-regnlated system of economy, by diligent industry, and by limiting their expenses to what is strictly necessary for the decent comforts of life, they accomplish what our objector holds to be simply impossible, without descending, at once, to the lowest level of the community. This class of facts, then, is conclusive of the question. If any young man be afraid of an early marriage, on ac- count of the expense, or the possible degradation of the ed- ucated lady whom he might choose for his companion, let him reflect upon the condition of the clergy, on the broad average of actual experience, and he will see that the diffi- culty lies not in the subject itself, but in the perverted no- tions and habits of fashionable society. And then, if the maiden of his choice be a true woman, and if he frankly state the amount of his income, and leave it to her option whether she will submit to the necessary labors of wedded life, and do as much on her part as he expects to do on his, he will find her ready and willing to make the sacrifice, in the performance of her duty. It may be, indeed, that he will be disappointed. She may refuse to give up her wretched slavery to frivolity, luxury, and ease ; and resolve only to accept him when he is able to support her in idle- ness and vanity. But if so, let him thank Providence for his escape ; and be grateful that he is not tied for life to one of those unhappy specimens of modern education, who are utterly unfit for the sacred relations of wife or mother. The third objection to early marriages arises from the results which observation presents in too many instances where trouble and misery attend the matrimonial state, be- CHAP. XX.] . ADVANTAGES. 269 cause the wedded pair are deficient in sense and true prin- ciple. The remedy for this, however, is not to be found in the postponement of marriage ; since it would usually be seen that the party or parties in fault needed a far more serious improvement of character, than the mere lapse of time could have supplied. If the husband or the wife be foolish or unprincipled, they cannot be expected to live happily together, whether they be old or young. And it would be the height of absurdity to suppose that age alone could supply the want of sense or virtue. The remaining class of objectors, who abjure matrimony altogether, because they think that the freedom of celibacy is far more exempt from suffering and sorrow, stand so di- rectly opposed to religion, reason, and sound morality, that there is no need of argument to manifest their error. But here we must make a distinction. I allude only to those wild and radical innovators, who declaim against wedlock on the ground of its supposed despotism and unnatural re- • straints ; and contend for the fancied superiority of a pro- miscuous intercourse, to be continued no longer than it might suit the caprice of personal inclination. The case of those who only claim the right to remain unmarried in consideration of their own peculiar health, or tastes, or cir- cumstances, is quite a different matter. These persons do honor to matrimony as the genei-al rule, and merely ask the privilege of being exceptions. And assuredly there are many such exceptions who are in nowise blamable ; but, on the contrary, by a life of purity and active benevolence, are entitled to the affection and gratitude of all around them. Having thus replied to the objections, I conclude by a brief summary of the advantages, which, on the average 270 ADVANTAGES. [CHAP. XX. survey of human life, would justify the choice of early mar- riage in the American citizen. In the first place, it would concentrate his feelings and his habits in the circle of his own home ; and secure him from a thousand snares, temptations, and dangers, to which the single man, especially in the season of youth, is always liable. Secondly, it would afford the strongest earthly motive for steadfast diligence, prudence, and economy. Thirdly, it would be far more likely to secure that mu- tual spirit of kindly accommodation, which is so essential to the happiness of the wedded state. For, it is in the time of youth that the heart is most warm, and the habits most flexible. The connection then formed has the strongest power to assimilate the parties to each other. And hence they become most truly one, in sentiment, in principle, and in affection. We all know the enduring force of early at- tachments in friendship. We all acknowledge how supe- rior they are apt to be, when compared to those of later life. And there can be no reasonable doubt that the same difference exists in early love. Why should marriage be deprived of this surest jDrinciple of constancy and union ? Fourthly, the young man, married, has a much surer hold on the good-will of society. He is rightly regarded, by those around him, as being comparatively safe from the risks of dissipation and licentiousness, and more worthy of trust and confidence. His success gives far higher pleas- ure to his neighbors and his friends. His misfortunes ex- cite a far deeper feeling of commiseration. For matri- mony invests him with a double life, and therefore he reaps a double harvest of human sympathy. Nor is this the whole of his advantages. What contrast GHAP. XX.] ADVANTAGES. 271 can be stronger than that of the young man, "before marr riage, who seeks his boarding-house at the close of his daily labor, without a solitary bosom to respond to his hopes or his anxieties ; and the same young man, after marriage, when he can hasten to his home, in the full certainty of finding the companion of his heart, ready to share in all his trials or his joys, with pei-fect unity of feeling ? In the days of buoyant health, what countenance, like hers, can reflect his look of animation ? In the hours of sickness or of pain, what hand, like hers, can be laid upon his brow — what care, like hers, can minister to his wants, with tender watchfulness and assiduity ? And lastly, in the event of offspring, the superiority of early marriage is almost beyond comparison. For the chil- dren are generally far more vigorous, in consequence of the greater vigor of the parents' constitution. The mother is oiore likely to accommodate herself to the care of their ed- ication ; and the father has a much better prospect of seeing them fairly launched into the business of the world, and aiding them by his experience and his counsel. And then, when old age steals on ; and the whitened locks, and the dim eye, and the feeble step lead those parents gently to- wards the grave ; the children of their youth will be in the vigor of a ripe maturity, able to cheer and sustain them through the period of decline, and stand around their bed of death in the solemn sweetness of filial love, and hallow their tomb with the tears of true and deep affection. How infinitely is all this to be preferred before a mar- riage postponed to the prudent age of worldly competency! How sad the thoughts of the father who is about to die and leave his little ones, in childhood, delicate in frame and weak in constitution, to the cold care of executors and 272 CHOICE OF A WIFE. [cHAP. XXI. guardians, to the uncertain charity of strangers, or to the ti-ansient pity of the world ! Surely, there is no comparison which can do justice to the contrast. But these reasons must suffice to prove the vast advantage of early marriage, although much might be added to the imperfect exposition. I pass on to the important topic of the choice of a wife, and to this I shall devote the following chapter. CHAPTEE XXI. ON THE CHOICE OF A WIFE. It is quite evident that the choosing of a partner for life properly implies some reasonable action of the judgment. And it is equally evident that as the bridegroom is bound to love and to cherish his bride, there must also be a rea- sonable measure of personal affection. And both should concur in the selection, if the American citizen would really desire to enjoy the true comforts and blessings of the mar- riage union. Yet I have just recommended an early marriage, as in all respects the more advantageous and hopeful. Who can expect the exercise of judgment, from the youth -of twenty- one? Is it not manifestly absurd to ask it at an age, when there can be so little experience in the knowledge of hu- man character? Does it not need long years of acquaint- ance to form a correct opinion even of our daily associates ? And how, then, can such an opinion be formed in reference to a female, with whom her admirer can have so little far miliar intercourse before they are engaged, who instinc- tively presents herself to him in the most amiable aspect, OHAP. XXI.] CHOICE OF A WIFE. 273 and whose faults, even without intending it, are carefully concealed from his observation ? ^ l^ow I frankly admit that these difficulties are plausible. It would seem, at first sight, that judgment can have little place in the serious business of an early marriage, and that it must therefore be left entirely to the affections or the personal inclinations of the parties. And yet such a con- clusion would be altogether eiToneous, as I hope to show by a very simple course of reasoning. I commence, then, by denying that the American youth, at the age of twenty-one, is too young to form a reasonable judgment of female character. At that age, he is old enough to assume the important relations of a citizen, to commence the practice of law, of medicine, of the ministry, or of any other business, all of which require more or less judgment of human nature. At that age, moreover, he has actually been already occupied, for many years, in this very thing, of necessity ; since, from his childhood up, he has been constantly observing and judging, whether right or wrong, the characters of all around him. I deny, secondly, that men grow wise in proportion to their years, with regard to their power of appreciating hu- man character. It is well known that the instinctive impres- sion of women and children is often far more correct, than the knowledge which men are supposed to derive from ob- servation and experience. Doubtless it may be true enough that the older men grow, the more likely they are to be suspicious. It is also trae that in proportion as they refuse to trust each other, in the same proportion they may secure themselves from imposition. But suspicion is one thing, and the power of judging human character is another. In- deed, suspicion is so far from aiding us to form a right 2* 274 CHOICE OF A WIFE. £CHAP. XXI. j-udgment, that it operates, in perhaps a majority of eases, to make that judgment impossible. Be this as it may, however, it is certain that it has no relation to my present subject. The spheres of the sexes are so different, that the experience of the one can seldom be safely applied to the other. Where woman is concerned, therefore, it rarely happens that the old bachelor acquires any peculiar knowledge which is likely to aid him in the choice of a wife. We all know, on the contrary, that he is usually far more liable to error than the yonng ; because he is more likely to be the object of mercenary art and specu- lation. The lady takes him, full often, not for love, but for convenience or for money. And hence we see that there are no matches more absurd than those made by old men, in all other eyes except their own. The result, to my mind, is very clear : that the American citizen of twenty-one, who is presumed to have judgment enough to enter, for himself, on every other kind of busi- ness, has judgment enough to choose his wife, if he will only ti-y to use it. And how ought he to use it, is therefore the next important subject of inquiry. Here, then, on the threshold of the matter, I would not recommend him to wait until, as the ordinary phrase is, he falls in love. The sudden, violent, and passionate desire which this language indicates, is rarely the safest guide to a happy matrimonial connection. It is too extravagant to last. It is too blind to estimate character. It is too deaf to hear reason. It is too headlong to think of consequences. And hence, instead of this, I should altogether prefer the gradual attachment which grows with acquaintance and es- teem ; which is not so strong as to render the exercise of judgment impossible, but which is far more likely to in- mAP. XXJ.] DNFAVOBABLE SIGNS. 275 crease witli time, and yield the best measure of rational enjoyment throughout the whole course of the wedded union. Supposing then, that our young American citizen designs to take a wife — as, with very few and peculiar exceptions, it is the right and duty of all to do — and supposing, further, that he finds within the circle of his female acquaintance a maiden of suitable age, whose person and whose manners impress him favorably, he should commence at once the work of judgment, before his feelings are too far engaged, and direct his attention to those points of character which he must know to be essential to happiness in the matrimo- nial relation. The first and most important point to be determined, is whether she be possessed of true religious principle. And this is not to be taken for granted because she is the com- municant of a Christian Church, or an extravagant admirer of some Christian preacher, or even an active teacher in the Sunday-school, and an industrious member of a benev- olent society. The real strength of religious principle is rather to be found in the sweetness of her ordinary deport- ment, the good sense and discretion of her discourse, the moderation of her attire, the absence of envy, vanity, cen- soriousness, and affectation, the strict performance of her domestic duties, and the kindly regards of the members of her own family. These are the surest tests of the practical power of her Christian profession, and yield the fairest promise of her fitness for matrimonial life. But if, on his occasional visits at her parents' house, he find her destitute of all filial respect towards her mother, pert, and sharp, and selfish, and contradictory : let him set that down in his judgnaent as a strong note of warning. A 276 UNFAVORABLE SIGNS. [CHAP. XXI. disobedient and unfeeling daughter can never be likely to make a faithful wife. Or if he observe her to be exacting, imperious, and un- kind to her younger brothers and sisters, indifferent to their comfort and only intent upon her own : let him set that down also, as a sure mark of the temper which he may ex- pect, when the novelty of wedded life is over. Or if he discover that she is accustomed to talk in the language of extravagant hyperbole, regardless of all sobrie- ty and truth, so that her ordinary statements deserve no confidence : he may well conclude that she is quite unfit to be the head and example of a family, or a trust-worthy helpmate to a husband. Or if she be evidently looking out for admiration, fond of excessive show and ornament in her apparel, addicted to gadding abroad, and among the last to leave routs and par- ties ; he should lay that up in his judgment as a most un- promising sign of a happy home. Or if she despise the knowledge of a good housekeeper, with no wish to lessen the burden of her mother's cares, but always ready to give trouble to others, without any re- turn of thankfulness, or any anxiety to take trouble for them : this also may serve for an admonition. Or if she be lazy and indolent, fond of reading novels and full of affected sentimentality, while she is without rel- ish for useful information, without any active sympathy for real sorrow, and hard and uncharitable to the poor : he may take this as another most unfavorable indication. Or if she look down, with proud disdain, upon honest labor, and deem it beneath her dignity to help herself- if she lean upon her aristocratic friends, having no sympa- thy with plebeian notions of utility ; if she cannot cheerfully CHAP. XXI.] EFFORT TO IMPEOTE. 277 employ her hands or occupy her thoughts, on proper occa- sions, with sewing, sweeping, baking, preserving, gardening, nursing, teaching, or any other of the humbler, yet most important work of ordinary life ; let him beware how he connects her with himself in marriage, since it is impossi- ble, without a radical change, that she should ever succeed in the duties of the wedded relation. Yet it may be that many of these faults have arisen from a defective education, from the foolish indulgence of her parents, or from the example of associates and acquaint- ances ; and still she may have a principle of religion in the heart, and native sense in the head, suificient, if rightly directed, to amend them. la such a case, let her admirer next exercise his judgment in the experiment of instruction as a friend^ before he commits himself too far as a lover. Let him honestly and kindly tell her of her faults, and ob- serve how she takes the lesson. If she receive it in good part, and display docility and energy enough to conquer her evil habits, and attain a higher and a better character, he may safely calculate on the happiest result ; and marriage may be expected to complete the desired reformation. But if she treat his remonstrances with levity or resentment, let him at once retire and direct his matrimonial plans to some other quarter. Better, a thousand-fold, that he should suffer, for a little while, in the conflict between his judgment and his inclinations ; than tie himself to domestic sorrow for life, and perhaps involve a family in the sad results of maternal misgovernment and ill example. It is obvious that the exercise of this measure of observa- tion and judgment, at the supposed age of twenty-one, de- mands much seriousness of thought on the part of oui- young American citizen ; although the several points which I have 278 PAEENTS TO BE CONStTLTED. [OHAP. XXI. specified are all easily ascertained on a very ordinary ac- quaintance, if attention be directed to them. But if lie be supposed, at that age, capable of transacting business for himself, and worthy of trust and confidence, he must also be capable of thinking seriously on so very serious a sub- ject as the choice of a companion, which may determine the whole complexion of his earthly destiny. He ought not to permit himself to form such an engagement in levity or reckless presumption. He ought not to be drawn into it, without careful forethought. And above all, he ought not to conclude upon it, without earnest supplication, that he may be preserved from error. If there be any connection upon earth worthy of prayer for the divine direction, mar- riage is so pre-eminently ; because on it may depend the happiness not only of himself, but of many yet unborn. And the youth who enters upon it without prayer, without reflection, and without grave and sober judgment, has no right to complain, if wedlock prove to be a som-ce of dis- appointment and sorrow. It is to be remembered, however, that although I have endeavored, thus far, to show how our young American may form for himself a right estimate of character, yet if it be in his power to consult his own parents on the subject of his choice, it is his duty to do so. He cannot marry a wife without giving them a daughter ; and he has no right to do that, until he is satisfied that they approve the selec- tion. And this is the more imperative upon him, since he may always calculate upon their free consent, unless there be very strong reasons against it ; to which, as they proceed from his best and truest friepds, he ought certainly to listen with the most respectful attention. On the same ground, he should never dream of tempting CHAP. XXI.] NO ELOPEMENT. 279 the maiden of Ms choice into an elopement. Such cases, indeed, may, and sometimes do, turn out well, in the opin- ion of the world. But a marriage consummated by an act of filial wrong, ingratitude, and rebellion, can hardly fail of sorrow in the end. The bride commits a grievous sin in casting off her highest obligations to her parents, and may expect a righteous retribution in the conduct of her own children ; besides the bitter feelings which are likely to rise against her, in her father's heart. The bridegroom commits a grievous sin by suggesting the transgression. And if the history of such examples could be fully known, I doubt not that they would usually prove to have been attended by a curse instead of a blessing. I would only add, that the main principle which should guide the young American in the choice of a wife, if he would enjoy the true advantages and comforts of marriage, must bear reference to those qualities of the mind, the temper, the habits, and the principles which are adapted to its proper duties. In no case, therefore, should he select her merely on account of her rank or fortune. Money is no substitute for prudence, fidelity, or love. Full often it proves, on the contrary, a prolific source of discord and dissension. The wife who brings to her husband a large accession of influence or of wealth, is very apt to remind him of the fact ; and to claim a right of dictation and of government which utterly subverts the established order of the wedded state, and makes him a gilded slave where he ought to be the master. It needs a rare endowment of Christian principle to overcome such a temptation, and to enable the wedded heiress to fulfil her conjugal obligations with the same faithfulness and affection, as if the fortune had been her husband's and not her own. 280 WEDDED LIFE. [CHAP. XXH. Believing, as I do, that the best interests of our countiy at large, as well as those of the individual citizen, would be greatly promoted if early marriage were the general rule; and lamenting the increasing number of those who doom themselves to an indefinite delay, and to celibacy ; I have thus laid down, briefly, the argument in support of what I deem to be the safer and the wiser course. It is hardly necessary to say that all such rules must have a great va- riety of exceptions, which do not require to be specified, because they provide -for themselves. And I am perfectly aware that there is no subject so little likely to be governed by rules ; notwithstanding the dangers which are sure to re- sult, when the parties disregard the laws of truth and nature. CHAPTER XXII. ON MARRIED LIFE. It is perhaps the chief boast of our American society that the female sex is regarded with so much kindly defer- ence and consideration ; and there are few travellers in Europe who can fail to be favorably impressed in our be- half, by the difference, in this respect, between the old world and the new. To speculate upon the causes which have produced this difference, is no part of my present ob- ject. The fact is unquestionable, and I notice it in this connection, mainly on account of its strong influence upon the ordinary ideas entertained with regard to the marriage relation. The law of wedded life, indeed, is substantially the same thi-oughout the United States, that has been established, for OHAP. XXn.] MODERN LIBEETT. ii' 281 80 many ages, m every other quarter of the world. That law is in precise accordance with the divine decree passed on woman at the fall, " Thy desire shall fee ' to thy hus- band," saith the Almighty, " and he shall rule over thee."* Hence the right of the husband is to govern, and the duty of the wife is to obey. That duty is plainly expressed by the marriage covenant, in all the nations of Christendom, our own included. But the quality of the government on the one side, and of the obedience on the other, is subject to a most potential modification, according to the prevail^ ing notions and customs of each community. :0- M With ourselves, this modification has gone so'' far, that the law of obedience is rarely acknowledged or even thought of, as a practical element of wedded life.* The American citizen, for the most part, calculates upon leav,. ing his wife in undisputed possession of the home depart-, ment ; reserving to himself the management of the farm,- the workshop, the counting-room, or the office, as the case may be ; and usually intending her to conduct her own branch precisely as she pleases. The wife takes her ac- customed position as a matter of course, and by no means as if it were a matter of concession. Both parties pay a reasonable regard to the prerogatives of each other, and seldom interfere beyond their respective spheres. They are like two equal partners who are interested alike, in- deed, in the profits of the business ; but who agree, for con- venience sake, to divide the work between them. And the result, for aught that the world can see, is a fair amount of respectable concord and success ; although there is no notion of authority on the one side, or of obedience on the other. * Geu. iii. 16. 282 LACK OF GOTEENMKNT. [cHAP. XXH. This state of the question usually passes for a great im- provement on"^the system of the Scriptures. And it seems to work tolerably well, unless a young family rise up to test its practical efficiency. Then comes the discovery that there is no proper family government at all. The mother regulates the children until she can control them no longer ; and that period, in the case of the boys especially, arrives very soon. The force of authority is understood by neither of the parties. The father is accustomed to the law of con- traqt; and the power of interest, and the sentiments of honor and;' humanity ; but the rod of parental discipline, though directed by the wisdom of Solomon, is looked upon as an old and exploded institution ; and the feelings of his wife would not suffer him to use it, even if he were convinced qf its propriety. The mother is accustomed to the manage- ment of the home department, and thinks herself at least as competent, or rather a good deal more so, to judge of the best plan for managing the children. And the ordinary conclusion of the matter is, that the self-will of the young people gains the victory over coaxing, bribery, and moral suasion, mingled, occasionally, with an angry lecture, which only irritates the temper ; until at length, if the parents be poor, they send their children out to serve strangers ; and if they be rich, they commit the juvenile rebels to a board- ing-school. And so the lack of government breaks up the true bond of family love and union ; and home loses its proper character, as a centre of attachment and affection. JSTow this is all wrong, though it is, unhappily, very com- mon. The whole difficulty proceeds from the false delicacy which keeps the husband from asserting his lawful authori- ty, and the pride of independence which prevents the wife from acknowledging it. But the law of God, which first CHAP. XXII.] DUTY OF GOVERNMENT. ^,. 283 instituted marriage, is the only law which can be safely taken for its government. It is perfect folly 'to suppose that this can be either rightly or successfully superseded by the notions of the world. The man is constituted the head of the woman, in all that relates to the married state. And neither can set that rule aside, without losing incomparably more than can be gained by the violation. If, then, the husband, by the very terms of the wedded tmion, possesses the right to govern, it is his duty to claim it on the ground of the divine law ; and it is his further duty to learn how that right may be religiously and conscientious- ly exercised. As the head of the wife, it is his place to in- struct her in the article of obedience ; and it is hers to ac- cept the lesson, as a manifest branch of Christian obliga- tion. And both the parties may easily understand the true quality of their mutual relations, if they will seriously study the language of the original law of marriage and the pre- cepts of the apostles ; as they are faithfully embodied in the expressive form of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and legally recognized in every Christian country. The husband, in his wedded vow, has solemnly promised to " love and to cherish." The wife has promised, before God, to " love, honor, and obey." By the express terms of this sacred contract, both parties are bound ; and therefore it results, of necessity, that the man has no right to give up the office of government, and the woman has no right to oppose its lawful fulfilment. It is very possible, indeed, that he may be inferior to her, in strength of intellect, and in general education. It is very possible that she may be better qualified to be the teacher than the taught. But that has nothing to do with the question of authority. The prime minister, in a monarchical government, may know a 284: DUTY OF GOVERNMENT. [OHAP. XXII, vast deal more than the king, and may often be obliged to instruct the monarch in his duty. And yet, it belongs none the less to the king to decide, because it is his place to govern ; and whether he chooses to adopt the counsel of his minister or not, that minister is required to obey. So, in an ordinary court of justice, the lawyer may know more than the judge, and be abundantly qualified to give him the best instruction. But still, it belongs to the judge to decide, by virtue of his official authority; and whether he decide right or wrong, the lawyer must submit. So, in the general, commanding an army. The colonel may be far better vereed in the art of war, and be able to give lessons to his superior officer. But the authority is vested in the general ; and although the colonel may be ever so convinced that his commander is mistaken, yet he is bound to execute his orders notwithstanding. It is quite easy to conceive that the husband, who is con- scious of his wife's superiority of education, may give up his authority on that very ground, and fancy himself justi- fied in doing so. And it is equally easy to conceive that the wife who has married a man intellectually inferior to herself, may think it perfectly right to claim the govern- ment of the family, for the same reason. But in truth they only involve themselves in a dangerous fallacy. They ought to have considered the relative fitness of their educa- tion and understanding, before they were married. The man would certainly have been wise in declining the office of government, which he could not expect to discharge with satisfaction. And the woman would as certainly have been justifiable in refusing to promise honor and obedience, to one whom she felt unwilling either to honor or obey. But after marriage, it is too late to consider the difficulty. The rela- CHAP. XXn.] DUTY OP GOVEENMENt. 285 tion has now been formed. The irrevocable vows have been taken. And whatever trouble the parties may expe- rience from the ill-matched conjunction, they must learn to discharge their duties, as honestly as they can ; instead of committing the far graver error of supposing, that because thny have disregarded the rules of prudence in undertaking Bunh a union, they may try to remedy the matter by living in a constant violation of its established law. Nor is it so difficult as it may seem, even under these cir- cumstances, to perform their duty. The husband, like the king, may be perfectly conscious of his intellectual inferi- ority. The wife, like the prime minister, may be quite conscious of her ability to instruct him. Let her do so, then, as the prime minister would do, with a faithful and profeEsed acknowledgment of his authority ; and all will be well. But let her carefully avoid twitting her husband wi^ his ignorance. Let her advise him in the constant recollec- tion that she has promised to honor and obey. Let her pre- sent her counsel, as counsel and not as dictation, without temper, without sharpness, without direct and provoking con- tradiction. Let her tell him often, and with entire sincerity, that she considers him as the master of the family ; and that she desires his authority to decide, after he has heard her reasons with attention. And she may be well assm-ed that she will never lose a particle of her proper influence by such a course, but, on the contrary, will increase it, more and more; besides the inestimable benefit of having the ap- proval of her own conscience, and the sure promise of the divine blessing on her union. And the husband, on his side, may readily understand his duty of government, however willing he may be to lean on the judgment of his wife. He may and ought to consult 286 TEAINING OF CHILDEESr. [cHAP. XXtt. her on all his'affairs, and, like the king, resolve on nothing of importance without hearing his prime minister. And yet he should never suffer his authority to be set aside, or wan- tonly disregarded; because that authority is established by the decree of the Almighty, and has been solemnly acknow- ledged in the marriage vow. Hence, if at any time the wife forget it, he should kindly and calmly, but firmly, re- mind her of her obligation. And thus he may easily unite the highest regard to her superior knowledge, with a strict conservatism of his own superior power. But now let us consider the result of this true matrimo- nial system, on the training of the children. The cardinal defect of our age and country lies in this veiy point of auihoritg: The principle is dismissed, almost as if by com- mon consent, from the family circle. They never hear of it from their parents' lips, in its connection with domestic p)vernment. They are brought up in the most perfect ignorance that God has fixed the strictest laws of subordi- nation for the domestic relations, by whicli the mother is subject to the father, and the children to both. Shs cannot be expected to inculcate this duty on their part, if she be hostile to it on her own. Nor can he be expected to insist upon it, on the only proper ground of religious obligation, when he is quietly submitting, every day, to the indepen- dent dictation of the very wife who has solemnly promised to honor and obey him ; and who, nevertheless, continually shows, in the presence of those children, that she has not the slightest idea of doing either the one or the other. They grow up, by necessary consequence, without any knowledge of this first principle of duty, obedience to pa- rental law. And this inevitably leads them into aU the dangers of self-will, headstrong resistance, and rebellion, CHAP. XXII.3 FBtriTS OF OBEDIEKOli. 287 wMch are but too apt to follow them throtigli life, and per- haps lead them to utter ruin. Suppose, however, on the eontraiy, that the authority of the husband were properly understood from the beginning, and openly acknowledged by the wife, as the fundamental rule of the mamage union; and it will be manifest, at once, that the children would understand, most fully, its application to themselves, as the established law of God, from which escape was utterly impossible. They would hear the principle of obedience honored by their mother's lips, and see it in her conjugal example. They would learn to accept it as a gift of the divine wisdom, without which there could be no government, nor order, nor peace, even in the little circle of the family. And thus the rule of submission to rightful authority would become engrafted in their hearts, and produce the best fi'uits in all the future relations of life, and spread its reverential influence over their memory of a father's watchful care, and a mother's devoted affection. It is commonly believed, indeed, that this assertion of the husband's authority is inconsistent with the law of love ; which is doubtless the great law of marriage, as it is of every other Christian relation. But no mistake can be more manifest, if the subject be rightly apprehended. There is no love on earth equal to the love of Christ. And yet He lays down certain precepts for His people, and expressly saith, " If ye love me, keep my commandments."* Here, therefore, obedience to Gommandments is imposed by perfect love on the one side, and made the very test of love upon the other. The apostle Paul applies this analogy to * John xiv. 15. 288 SOEIPTtTEAL ANALOGY. [cHAP. XXO. the relation of marriage, where he saith, "As the Churcli is subject to Christ, so let the wives be to their own hus- bands in every thing."* And then immediately after- wards, he adds, "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the Church, and gave himself for it."t Clearly, then, there is no contrariety between love and obedience, since it is love which issues the command, and love which is expected to fulfil it. And this is, therefore, the sentiment which, if it were as operative as it ought to be, would make the yoke of marriage a true bond of the happiest union. For love does not destroy authority, since that authority is established by the love of God, and must, consequently, be the best instrument for promoting the highest objects of the married relation. Neither does authority destroy love, because it must be regulated by love, exercised in love, and obeyed in love. But love itself cannot secure the welfare of the family, unless it works by the agency of government. Yet there can be no govern- ment without authority. And there can be no authority, unless there be some established power to enforce obedi- ence. Hence the necessity of authority, in the family, grows out of the principle of love ; and proves the perfection of the analogy which the apostle so jslainly declares, between the obedience of the wife to the husband, and the obedience of the Church to Christ. I have treated this important subject on the ground of religion, because there is no other mode of ascertaining its proper character. Marriage is a divine institution, having its whole sanction from the law of the Creator. Its great object is to provide, in the best and happiest manner, for * Eph. T. 24. t lb. V. 25. CHAP. XXII.] AUTHOEITT OF LOVE. 289 the increase and training of the human race. No mortal ingenuity can improve its condition, by departing from the maxims of the 'New Testament ; and the attempt is sm-e to be followed by danger, by suffering, and by sorrow. Alas ! it is but seldom that we can jBnd its rights and duties under- stood or appreciated, even among Christian people. And to this fact, perhaps, more than to any other, may be attributed the decline of piety in the Church itself; and the inci'easing progress of social depravity in the world around us. Doubtless there is no topic on which the arguments of the moralist are less likely to produce reformation. But I may not, for that reason, shrink from the defence of truth. It is for my readers, and not for me, to decide how far that truth shall be acceptable. I conclude, then, with a practical summary of the whole matter. The American citizen has an unquestionable rigki to government in his own family. It is also his duty to claim and exercise that right, by the express law of the marriage relation ; and he cannot be justified in delegating his authority, unless by some unavoidable necessity, either to his wife, or to any other. But it is his duty to administer this authority in love. Hence, it is no license for tyranny, for harshness, for ill- temper, for caprice, for selfishness, or for any shape or form of oppression. He is bound to govern his wife, but he is also bound to love and to cherish her, and neither of these obligations must be allowed to nullify the other. If she be a thoughtful and consistent Christian, sincerely desirous to fulfil her wedded vow, the task of government will give him no trouble. If she be, on the contrary, self-willed, high-spirited, and contradictory, it may give him a great deal. Yet even so, he may hope to succeed, if he perse- 18 290 WEDDED CONFIDENCE. [CHAP. XXH. vere, with kindness, calmness, and firmness, in placing her duty hefore her, on the true foundation of religion and con- science, sustained by reason and by law. And if he fail, after a due trial, it is better that he should have recourse to a quiet separation, than give up his rights, or use any unmanly violence, or live in constant dispute and conten- tion. But there are few women who will continue to resist the just authority of a husband, if he know how to use it. For the most part, the fault is not so much in their wilfulness, as in the want of proper and affectionatefinstrnxs- tion in the true meaning of the marriage vow. And if the man be ignorant of his own duty, or careless about its proper exercise, he deserves to bear the blame ; as he will surely have cause to rue the consequences, in the loss of his domestic peace, and the final wreck of conjugal affection. It is impossible, however, to succeed fully, in the estab- lishment of this domestic government of love, unless he be willing to take his wife into his confidence. He should show her, therefore, that he regards her as his other self, his best friend, and his favorite companion. To this end, he should consult her about his business, so far as she can take interest in it. He should abandon all societies, clubs, amusements, and pleasures, in which she can take no part ; and give up his leisure hours to the far higher and safer gratification of making his home happy. He must not forsake her in the evenings, and leave her solitary and sad, because he may prefer the excitement of some other com- pany. He has promised to love and to cherish her, and hfe cannot do that, unless he consults her happiness, in union with his own. Doubtless, it may require, at first, some self-denial to resist this too common hahit of seeking amusement after marriage, in thie skme nianiier as beibi'^. CHAP. XXn.] AET OF WEDDED PEACE. 291 But he ■will find himself amply rewarded in the end, for the trifling sacrifices which it may cost him. For this is the point at which we may usually date the beginning of festrangement and complaint. The young wife feels herself nteglected. She natui-ally remonsti-ates. Her husband resents the expostulation as a restraint upon his liberty. And love, on both sides, sustains a wound which continues to bleed, until it exhausts the fountain of aifection. And so, by degrees, the sacred bond of wedlock falls away from the heart ; and marriage sinks down into a miserable state of mutual license, or cold conventionality. Of course, there maybe some difficulty in this importand; matter, which demands the exercise of reason and judg- ment. Love is often exacting and troublesome, and needs to be regulated, on both sides, by discretion and good sense. But there will be no danger of any serious error, so long as the parties keep in view the great maxims of the wedded covenant, and honestly strive to fulfil them consci- entiously. They will be liable, assuredly, to make occa- sional mistakes. The art of a happy marriage is not to be learned immediately. Experience, observation, and care are needed by both, that they may understand and accom- modate themselves to one another. And here is one of the advantages of an early marriage, which I have already noted — that the yoimg are far more likely to acquire this -important art of accommodation, than those whose habits have been fixed by long-continued celibacy. But if these mistakes of the parties, when they do occur, be frankly acknowledged and explained, as they always should be ; and if both are truly anxious to perform their respective duties, time and association will accomplish the work. X'oVe will gain in mature strength, fer more than it loses in 292 EDtlCATION. [OHAP. XXHI, intensity. And marriage will prove to be the safest and the happiest school of human comfort, sympathy, and virtue. I have said that this subject of marriage can only be rightly considered on the ground of religious principle ; and I shall close this chapter by a repetition of the same truth. If the young American- will rush into wedlock without caring whether his wife be a Christian — if the maiden of his choice will marry, under the foolish expectation that the man who has no conscience towards God will yet manifest conscience towards herself, and love his wife although he refuses to love his Saviour — there is no firm basis for peace and enjoyment to rest on. Weddings of this sort are unhappily too common. And sad experience proves that as they commence in sin, so they usually end in sorrow. CHAPTEE XXIII. ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. The great objects of marriage, as a divine institution, being the increase and nurture of the race, it results, plainly, that the proper management of the offspring stands in the first rank of its obligations. And as this is, confess- edly, a matter of serious and increasing difficulty, in our age and country, it needs the lessons of instruction, and the hand of judicious reform, at least as much as any other interest of society. Like the previous topic of wedded life, this topic of edu- cation must be treated religiously ; because it is also a divine institution, and the laws of God cannot be disobeyed with- Chap, xxm.] foece of early -impeession-s. 293 out the certain consequence of eyil, even in the present •world ; however men may presume to promise themselves a larger amount of ease and self-enjoyment, by their violation. The formation of the sexes, and the mysterious commence- ment of human existence, are amongst the most wonderful works of the Creator. And it is obvious that His will must be followed in the management of the offspring, if we would secure the result which can alone make the gift of life a blessing to its possessor. Alas ! it is a melancholy reflec- tion that there are so many thousands, even in our Christian land, who have reason to look back, in bitterness of soul, upon the false indulgence of their parents ; and to wish that they never had been born ! In every work of importance, it is allowed to be a point of great judgment to iegin rightly. And in nothing is it more essential to full success, than in the task of education. For it is the universal maxim of experience, that the earli- est impressions are the strongest. And this maxim is founded on the well-known fact that in old age, when memory fails, and the long and busy scene of mature life is blotted out from recollection, the events and lessons of childhood come out in vivid relief upon the tablet of the mind, and are usually the last to fade away from the intel- lectual vision. In this we have the most convincing proof of the abiding power, which attaches to the first training. And therefore we have here the explanation of the influence which a wise and pious mother may exert upon the whole future life and character; by the right employment of the early period, committed, in the order of Providence, to her especial care. She may be young, indeed, and quite lacking in maternal experience. But in this there is no real difficulty, if she 294 EEUGKIOTTS DEDICATIQH., [OHAP. XXill. follow the natural instincts of a mother's heart, and pray for strength and guidance, in reliance on the plain preeepte of her Bible. Let her only remember that God has given her this little one, in order that she may bring it up for Him, and consecrate it to the service of the great Eedeemeif. To this end, she should lose no time in dedicating the infant to Christ, by the holy sacrament of Baptism. And she should resolve to secure the benefits of this sacred act, by a consistent course of watchful care and instruction. Supposing her circumstances and her health to justify the employment of a nurse, she should be well assured that this nurse is worthy of her confidence, and she should warn her of the responsibility of the office, and sedulously exam- ine, day by day, the mode in which it is fulfilled. Nothing is more common, I fear, than the carelessness of youthful mothers in this important matter. It is usually thought to be enough, if the nurse be of a good physical constitution, and reasonably attentive to the bodily wants of the child. But, in truth, it is quite as important that she should be pure in her moral principles, and religious in her habits ; since, otherwise, there is little ground to hope that she will perform her duties conscientiously. Moreover, if the child is to draw its nourishment from the nurse's breast, there is a strong probability, at least, that it will be influenced by her temperament. For my own part, I would far rather see it dependent on the milk of an innocent cow, than have it suckled by a woman wanting in moral worth, subject to high passions, enslaved by superstition, or in any degree addicted to intemperance. The organization of the infant is so exquisitely susceptible, that too much caution cannot be employed in this very serious matter. It is not easy to say how early in life the mother should GHAE. m.Xm.'] INFANT TEAINmG. 295 begin her great duty of education. But it is quite certain that it may and ought to be commenced as soon as possible, and much sooner than most persons belieye that it can be really commenced at all. The first and most important habit of obedience to authority may be formed, to a considerable extent, before the child is weaned ; and long before it can understand the duty. This, I am perfectly aware, will be regarded as a very extravagant assertion, and yet I know it to be strictly true. And any one may perceive its truth, who will call to mind the ordinary process, by which obe- dience is taught to the young of our domestic animals. Every observer knows how soon, and how perfectly, the horse or the dog learns to know and submit to his master. And it is certainly paying a poor compliment to the intel- ligence of the infant, when it is supposed that he cannot be taught the same lesson by his mother, if it be inculcated with equal care. The error in this, and many other points, lies in the com- mon mistake, that hahits cannot be established without principles. This, however, is a perfect misapprehension. In the training of children, habits should be formed first, and principles should be inculcated afterwards. The rea- son is found in our double nature — the bodily, which resem- bles the brutes; and the spiritual, which resembles the angels. Of these two natures, the bodily nature is suscep- tible of training first, because it is first developed. And if it be rightly trained from the beginning, the mother will find one of her greatest diflficulties removed, in the subse- quent work of intellectual and moral education. But many of my female readers will probably conceive a strong disgust at the idea of teaching submission to an in- fant, on the same plan that we should teach it to a brute. 296 INFANT OBEDIENCE. [CHAP. XXHI. To their tender sensibilities, such a course would appear cruel and unreasonable. Yet in trath, it is the ordinary course which deserves these epithets. If the child, for in- stance—suppose at the age of six or seven months— should get hold of his mother's watch, and refuse to let it go, why may he not be taug"ht a lesson of obedience ? Let her takd the watch firmly out of his little hand, and if he screams in passion, let her look calmly into his eyes, and bid him hush ; and if he refuses to obey, let her tap him gently, but sufficiently to give a little pain, at intervals, when he stops to take breath for another fit of crying. And after a few such con- tests, at farthest, the infant will learn to submit imme- diately ; and thus be saved from the much greater suffering which he would otherwise endure, from his own wilfulness. But in order to succeed, the mother must be perfectly con- sistent and persevering in her system, and never desist from the exercise of proper authority, on account of his passion or his struggles. Her power once established, she must not suffer it to be disputed. And thus she may easily establish her maternal empire over the habits of her little one, and secure to it a happy freedom from an evil temper and a re- bellious will ; which are the greatest plagues through life of the majority, amongst ill-trained children. If this course be adopted from the first, and steadily maintained, the main difficulty in the subsequent education will be conquered. The habit of obedience will prevent all the innumerable contests, which would otherwise cloud the happiness of that interesting period ; and the mother may keep the household atmosphere pervaded with the sunshine of order and affection. And this, therefore, is true love to the child, because it promotes his enjoyment and his cheer- fulness. The lesson of submission must be learned at some CHAP. XXm.] UNION OF AUTHOEITY. 297 time, if the parent would have any real government ; and it is cruelty to the little one to delay it needlessly. "When this lesson is taught from the beginning, the painful duty of correction, in later years, becomes almost unnecessary. A word and a look will usually sufEce to recall the child to duty. And when he is old enough to be taught the jprinciple of obedience, there will be no obstacle to its reception ; because the habit is already there, and has been instilled so early that it has become a sort of second nature. In this important point, the aid of the father will rarely be needed, during the first few years ; but it is quite essen- tial that he should strengthen the authority of the mother in her good work ; and carefully avoid the least appearance of encouraging the child in opposition. Yet so perfectly thoughtless are married people upon this subject — though, on every other, they appear to be persons of intelligence and sense — that I have frequently seen the father take the young child out of the mother's arms, and stimulate the passion of the little culprit against her, and even call her "naughty mother," and pretend to beat her, in order to restore him to good humor ! And I have found nothing more unfortunately common than to see the parents, in later life, quite divided about the children ; and effectually destroy- ing their own peace and the future welfare of their off- spring, by mutual contradiction, indulgence, and partiality. A wise and thoughtful husband will adopt a very oppo- site course ; and give all proper weight to the mother's au- thority, by the addition of his own. With his encourage- ment, she may rise above the prevailing error of our days ; and success will usually crown their united efforts. But woe be both to parents and to children, when the concord of domestic government is wanting; for the result can 13* 29« EAELT EELIGION. [CHAP. XXHI. hardly fail to be strife and contention, self-will, headstrong obstinacy, rebellion, and estrangement. While the law of obedience, taught in time, and maintained consistently, produces harmony and cheerfulness, industry, affection, and peace. I pass on, however, to the period, when the mind of the child is sufficiently developed to make him capable of reli- gious instruction. And this, too, may be at a much earlier age than is commonly supposed. In two or three years, and sometimes even sooner, he may receive his first lessons in prayer, and in the idea of that kind Father in heaven, who watches over him, and loves him, and takes care of him by day and by night, and gives him his parents, and provides every good thing with which he is supplied. The history of Christ may next be explained, in language suited to his capacity ; and all his conduct may now be connected with the great truth, that the eyes of the Lord are con- stantly beholding him, in darkness as well as in the light ; that 'his parents gave him up to his Saviour in Baptism ; and that he should live as one of the adopted children of the Almighty King, who knows all things, and will do all things to make him happy, if he be faithful and obedient In this way, his little heart may be led to put its trust in the Redeemer, with more earnest sincerity than even his teachers realize. And thus they may keep the precept of the apostle, which commands Christians to " bring up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," in perfect accordance with the rule laid down by our divine Master where He saith, " Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." And why should it be otherwise ? Religious faith, in its qHAP. XXm.] FEELING BEFOEE PEINCIPLE. 8,9.9 essence, belongs mainly to tlie heart ; and love to Christ is its most important element. Why should not the heart be possessed with that sacred affection in the tender years of childhood ? Do not the parents know, that this is the surest period to gain the love of their offspring for his father and his mother, although the little one does not yet really un- derstand the proper meaning of the words ? Would they be \yilling to postpone the influence of filial affection, until inature years ; in order that before their child should be taught to love them, he should first be instructed in the anatomy of the human form, and in all the mysteries of the wedded relation, so as to be fully aware of the strict signi- fication of the terms, father and mother ? By no means. They are perfectly satisfied that love, in their own case, should be taught as soon as possible ; without waiting for the knowledge of a riper age. And why can they not see that in teaching theJT offspring to love Christ, before the period of complete intellectual apprehension, they are only acting on the same obvious and beautiful principle ? A little later comes the time, when the child may be taught the alphabet and leam to read. And this he may do at the mother's knee, by short and easy intervals, to the best advantage. But here I would caution her against the indiscriminate use of story-books for children. She may easily find, if she will look for them, some good ones ; and a large variety of cheap pictures, which will fill the young and impressible mind of her little boy with useful truth. And she should give him no others : for nothing can be more absurd than the popular notion, that folly and lies are equally fit for that early age, if they be only amusing. It would be just as wise to plant weeds on purpose in our gar- 4§ns, in order that we may afterwards enjoy the pleasure of 300 VALUE OF TETITH. [CHAF. XXKI. pulling them up. On the contrary, the parents should never present to the mind of the young child any ideas on way subject^ which they do not intend to remain there; because they must be aware that at this period, all ideas are received as true ; and there is neither knowledge nor judgment sufficient to enable the understanding to discrim- inate. I have already shown that the earliest impressions are the strongest and the most abiding, of necessity ; because the condition of the brain and of the mind in childhood is the most tender and susceptible. And hence, when we call to our recollection the preposterous jumble of notions which are commonly infused into childi'en, by the nonsense of Mother Goose, Jack the Giant Killer, and fairy tales ; as- sisted by the superstitious stuff of St. Nicholas, and the black man, and goblin stories, detailed by the servants and the nurses ; it is little wonder that the great majority of man- kind prove so careless of truth, especially of religious truth, to the end of life ; and that so few amongst them are fond of sober thought, or sound reflection. Let the child, then, have books and pictures in abun- dance. But let them all present something worth learning, useful and true. Pictures have a wonderful power to seize hold upon the tender mind, when the mother takes proper pains to explain them. First should come the large collec- tion which belongs to the narratives of the Bible. Next, pictures of birds, beasts, reptiles, fishes, flowers, fruits, and trees. Thirdly, as he advances, books illustrating geogra- phy, beginning with that of the holy land, and passing on to the manners and customs of nations. Then, little works on travels and history, and in due time, biographies of good and useful men, voyages of discovery, descriptions of the various arts and trades, &c. The object of the whole be- CHAP. XXm.] DAUGEES OF FALSEHOOD. 301 ing the same, viz., to store the mind with truth, and gradu- ally develop the powers of reason, in connection with sound judgment and right feeling ; while we keep away, as carefully as possible, the notions of falsehood and error, and so build up the enduring basis of principle and habit, for the future life. In all this, I propose not only the course which is plainly dictated by the precepts of religion, but that which is equally required by a strict analogy with the laws of bodily health and vigor. Every physician insists upon the food of children being simple, pure, and wholesome ; absolutely forbidding the hurtful indulgences of old persons, in spices, stimulants, elaborate cookery, sweetmeats, sauces, highly seasoned dishes, and confectionery ; which may, indeed, be allowed in moderation and with safety, after the constitu- tion becomes mature, but should never be permitted while the frame is growing. Wo intelligent physiologist doubts that the common violation of this essential rule is one main cause of the multiplied diseases of society ; producing, inevitably, the dyspepsia, fevers, liver complaints, and va- rious forms of organic debility, which interrupt so sadly the duties and true enjoyments of life, and consign such multitudes to suffering and premature decay. But shall unwholesome food thus injure the body, and will it not, still more surely, injure the mind and the soul ? Is not knowl- edge the meat and drink of our spiritual nature ? And if this knowledge be unwholesome in its quality — not good, but evil — not true, but false — not calculated to strengthen but to weaken the intellect — not adapted to elevate and purify, but to degrade and even poison the thoughts and the affections during the same all-important period of early development — who can doubt that it must introduce a cor- 302 OBJECTIONS ANSWEKIiD. [CHAP. XXIII, respondent amount of mental disease, disorder, and de- bility ? "Who can question the likelihood of the wretched result, which ends in the total lack of virtuous energy, and high-toned principle ? I am well aware, however, that the system which I ad- vocate is opposed by a variety of objections. Some wise arguers will say that it is all nonsense to lay down such strict rules for this early period — that children are children, and it is folly to desire that they should be men and wo- men before their time, or to attempt to put old heads on young shoulders. To this very popular and convenient style of argument, I answer, that it is the duty of the father and the mother to lay down strict rules for their children, because they alone are able to enforce them ; and the responsibility of their early training rests upon the parents, whether they will or not. That children are children is indeed most true ; and if they were any thing else, the task of educating them would be impossible. But that the effort to bring them up in the knowledge of ti'uth and virtue is likely to make them men and women before their time, is mere absurdity. That cannot be done, simply because it is contrary to natm-e. The objector must mean, therefore, that the plan proposed would have a tendency to make \h&csx fancy themselves men and women, prematurely. This tendency, however, I ut- terly deny. There is not the slightest danger of their for- getting that they are children, so long as they are held in the true subordination to their parents' authority which re- ligion and reason enjoin ; and are taught to look up to those parents with reverent obedience and affection. On the contrary, it is the ordinary system of the world that makes them fancy themselves men and women. It is CHAP. XZin.] OBJECTIONS ANSWEBBaj. 303 the preposterous indulgence whicli frees them from domestic restraint, and fills their thoughts with the dress, the company, the dissipation, the vanities, the fiction, and the artificial manners of mature society. It is the allowance of chil- dren's parties, and childi'en's fashions, and children's balls, and children's flirtations, and children's novels, which stuffs their young heads and hearts before the time with ideas and feelings totally unsuited to their age and condition. And hence the result deplored by every reflecting observer, that young America has almost lost the period of childhood altogether. Our boys and girls assume the airs of indepen- dence before they enter their teens. Obedience to parents is stricken out of the list of youthful virtues. There is no notion of government connected with the name of home. And " old heads are effectually put upon young shoulders," when the children are encouraged to think for themselves, a,nd act for themselves, and choose their companions and amusements for themselves ; without reference to the au- thority of either father or mother, and with a full persuasion that the main duty of both the parents is to let them do precisely as they please. Another objection to the system would doubtless be, that it is impracticable. It runs counter too much to the pre- vailing custom of the world. It lays too great a bm-den on the wife and mother. It requires too constant and watch- ful a degree of attention. Neighbors, friends, and servants would all help, in their several ways, to counteract it. And it must of necessity be relinquished, when the children are old enough to be sent to school. This is a plausible state- ment, I admit ; and demands a fair and full consideration. In the first place, then, let it be granted that the task of education, rightly performed, does run counter to the cus- 304 OBJECTIONS ANSWKEED. [cHAP. XXHI. torn of the world— that it lays a great burden on the mother —that it requires a constant and watchful attention, and that neighbors, friends, and servants would help, in their several ways, to counteract it. "What then ? That all this renders it a work of great difficulty is admitted ; but does that make it absolutely impracticable? Duty is always difficult, when it differs from the practice of the world ; but does that make it less a duty? And with respect to that pre-eminent duty which involves the virtue, the health, and the ultimate happiness of children, will the world give either to them or to their parents any equiv- alent, for the woeful and ruinous results of failure in their education ? It should further be considered that if there be difficul- ties on the one side, there are far greater difficulties on the other. The true system would usually result in the forma- tion of the children's character, so that their parents would derive from their future course the highest earthly comfort and satisfaction ; while, during the whole process of their training, their temper, their habits, and their reverential affection would make a comparative paradise of home. The ordinary plan, on the contrary, is a constant source of trouble, disorder, and anxiety. The parents, instead of be- ing the governors of their children, often become their slaves. And their heads are frequently bowed down in grief, and their hearts are well-nigh broken, by youthful immorality, ingratitude, and rebellion. Are there no diffi- culties here ? And when they recur, will the world be able to afford the father and the mother any consolation in their wretchedness, since not only are they conscious that it is the natural result of their own careless indulgence, but the children themselves, when they begin to feel the conse- OHAP. XXni.] OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 305 quences of the mistake, are apt to upbraid them as the causes of their ruin ! "Whatever, then, may be the amount of care, attention, and labor which the true system costs, the object to be ac- complished is well worth it all. True, indeed, it is, that the best-directed endeavors of the father and the mother may fail, on account of the counteracting influence of others ; and perhaps still more, by reason of their own defect of wisdom and consistency. Yet it is a great matter to have a high and just ideal of the rule ; since the nearer a con- scientious parent can approach to this, the greater the like- lihood of success in the important undertaking. Perfection is not to be expected in any thing belonging to humanity. But it is none the less our duty to aim at it, in all things ; and to advance, by diligent care and attention, in the path which leads to virtue and to truth. "With regard to the last branch of the objection, namely, that the strict system must of necessity be relinquished when children are old enough to be sent to school, I should say that it is wholly gratuitous and imaginary. As a gen- eral rule, the boy should be kept at home, until he has learned to read, and his habits have all been rightly formed, under strict parental authority. The age of eight years is quite early enough to enter the day-school ; and this should be one where the pupils are about the same age, not too numerous, and kept by an experienced, or at least a con- scientious and religious teacher. The mother should send him, and require him to return, with punctual regularity ; on no account allowing him to play and loiter in the street. She should give an hour, in the evening, to examine his les- sons and his progress ; and have a daily report, marked on a card, of his conduct in the school. She should attend, as 306 PARENTAL AIJTHOEITT. [cHAP. XXin, before, to his performance of his religious duties, and listen to his remarks on the events of each day, so as to form his judgment and his principles, in their new application to strangers. And in this, she will have an excellent oppor- tunity to teach him the virtue of charity and allowance for the faults of others, and of strictness towards his own, by telling him that the children who went wrong had not the same advantages as himself, and were therefore ignorant of their duty ; so that he should look on them not with anger but with pity, and remember that if he had been brought up as they were, he might not only have been no better, but perhaps far worse. Hence, instead of feeling proud or vain of his superiority, he ought rather to thank God who had given him the instmction of His holy "Word, and the careful teaching of his affectionate parents ; and pray to Him for the help of HisHoly Spirit, that his own conduct might be always answerable to his privileges; since otherwise he would be condemned to a much severer punishment, in the judgment of the great day. In this manner, the wise and careful mother may easily preserve her authority over her son, during the years of adolescence, and effectually guard him from the snares of evil company. But she will need the co-operation of the father, and should always have it when required. And if, at any time, there be manifest the temper of rebellion, not- withstanding all their care ; or if, without any open resist- ance, there be laziness, inattention, or wilful neglect, the father should tell him of his fault, read to him the instruc- tions of Solomon, and calmly but firmly administer the rod of correction, in the fulfilment of his own parental duty. This painful but indispensable part of a true system of edu- cation, should indeed be well understood, from the earliest CHAP. XXm.] COEEECTIVE DISCIPLINE. 307 years of childhood. The boy should regard it as it really is — the express command of the Almighty, from which no conscientious parent has a right to deviate. It should nev- er be administered in passion, but in marked displeasure, mingled with sorrow, and followed by prayer. And it should be repeated — like medicine in the hand of a careful physician — until the disease of self-will and disobedience is conquered, and the boy seems fully sensible of his trans- gression, and resolved to commit it no more. Nothing can be more dangerous and unjustifiable, in any Christian parent especially, than the notion that this whole- some discipline can be superseded by " moral suasion," as it is called, or by any other scheme of human discovery. The idea that it was only suited to the severity of the Mo- saic ritual, and was virtually done away by the more mer- ciful spirit of the Gospel, is a pure absurdity. Our divine Saviour Himself made a scourge of small cords, to chastise the buyers and sellers who profaned the temple.* And St. Paul, illustrating the paternal love of God in punishing His children, asks the emphatic question : " What son is he whom his father chasteneth not ?"f Human nature is precisely the same since the advent of Christ, that it was before ; and there is not a shadow of apology for the popu- lar folly of supposing that it does not require the same kind of correction, whenever the self-will or disobedience of the child or the boy resists the law of rightful authority. The education begun and steadily continued on these true principles, would insure to the American citizen, who is married and has a family, the best and happiest results, in that which forms the dearest object to every father's * John ii. 15. t Heb. xii. 7. 308 RESULT OF EIGHT TRAINING. [cHAP. XXHI. heart— the character and welfare of his children. It is his duty, therefore, to understand the subject well ; because, al- though the agency of the mother must be chiefly employed, particularly in the earlier years of childish training, yet she will usually need his counsel and advice, and always his entire and harmonious co-operation. I shall not, indeed, undertake to say that the fruits of such a system will always be satisfactory. Obstacles may intervene between the parents and the child. Strange and untoward influences may arise to alienate and corrupt him. And often, when he leaves the refuge of his father's roof, the pleasures and allurements of the world may appear, for a while, to carry him away. But it will be only for a while. The inspired proverb of Solomon contains a precept and a promise : "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it."* When he is OLD ! He may depart when he is young, through lack of experience. But the hand of God will lead him back, af- ter he has found that the world has nothing but disappoint- ment and grief to offer. Like the prodigal son, he will re- turn to his Father, for he learned to know that heavenly Eather in early life. And therefore he will retrace his steps in humility and penitence ; and he will be Avelcomed with joy ; and the remainder of his days will prove the power of that divine truth which he was taught in the be- ginning. To realize all this in the consistent plan of education, is no light nor easy undertaking. I have admitted it already, and I admit it now again. It requires piety, reflection, and prayer, that the parents may have wisdom for the task, and * Prov. xxii, 6. OHAP. XXm.] EESULT OF EIGHT TEAINING. carry on their work in the spirit of love, with patience, perseverance, and confidence, to the end. To those who will not employ these only lawful methods, I have nothing to say in favor of any other. The same Creator who made man, and who alone comprehends fully the infirmity of his understanding and the corruption of his heart by nature, has laid down the law for his education ; and from that law no human power has a right to deviate, nor can it deviate with the hope to prosper. , But to those parents who will devote themselves to the work in a true religious.temper, the reward is sure, even in the happiness of the present life. What possession is so precious as the grateful love of our children ? "What spec- tacle so delightful as to see them walking in the ways of virtue, usefulness, and truth ? What wealth so great as the treasure of their integrity and honor ? What suffering so deep, as the knowledge of their misery and shame ? Shall the mother shrink from the trouble demanded in their nur- ture ? Shall the idle intercourse of society, or the empty pleasures of the world, or the habits of easy indolence, be allowed to come between her and this most sacred of all her duties ? Shall the father cut himself off from his share in the work, for the sake of his evening amusements, his gay companions, his games and dissipation? Alas! for the parents who thus decide. Alas ! for the children whose rightful protectors have so deserted them. Nevertheless, I mean not to condemn those, whose circum- stances are such that they are really unable to perform aright this all-important duty. Doubtless, there are very many who cannot discharge it in their own persons, either by reason of ill health, or lack of knowledge, or want of the faculty of domestic government, or other difficulty which $10 FAtoLT SCHOOLS. foHXP. ^t.n. may be, in their case, insurmountable. The only resoiiriJfe, in these instances, is the substitute of the Boarding-school. And to this I shall devote the following chapter. CHAPTER XXIY. ON FAMILY SCHOOLS OF EDUCATION. I HAVE endeavored, in the last chapter, to show that the most important and abiding part of education should be performed at home, through the affectionate authority of the father and the mother ; and it is quite obvious that when circumstances render this impracticable, the Boarding- school, which is presented as the substitute for home, should preserve as many of its proper characteristics as possible. I say its proper chai-acteristics, because I use the term, hom>e, in the sense which it ought to bear ; and not in that which is too commonly affixed to it, in the loose and dangerous license of our day. Eightly understood, home is not merely the place of the parents' residence ; but it is also the place which should possess the largest amount on earth of Chris- tian government, united with love, order, and growth in knowledge and virtue. Under this aspect of the matter, the master and mistress of the boarding-school become the temporary substitutes for the parents of the boy committed to their care. They are invested, for a time, with the same power, and assume the same responsibility. Hence they are bound to treat him as they ought to treat their own child ; and if they fail in this, they are lacking in the fundamental point of a most serious obligation. 0fti¥. XHV.'] tAMELT SC&OOtS. &ll Of course, 1 do not mean that they should love him as they would do, if he were really their own ; nor that he should transfer to them the filial affection which he should have for his own father and mother. This would be equally impossible and undesirable, and does not come within the range of contemplation by either party at the time. I haVe therefore said precisely what I mean, that they should treat him as they ought to treat their own,' with the affection which will tenderly provide for his comfort and welfare, and with the constant care of his improvement in religious principle, in sound morality, in knowledge, in habits and deportment ; so as to qualify him, to the extent of their power, for the subsequent duties of life. More than this, no reasonable parent could desire. Less than this, ought not to satisfy the conscience of any Christian teacher who con- ducts a boarding-school. Such being the basis of the true system, the first result would seem to be that it cannot be extended to a very large number. How large, indeed, it would be difBcult to pre- scribe ; because there is so great a difference in the capaci- ties of men for the government, the inspection, and the quick insight of individual character which the task requires. Much would also depend on the fidelity and watchful attention of the other instructors. The famous Pestalozzi contrived to manage, with eminent success, a hundred boys. But he was a single man, and entered into the work with a rare enthusiiasin. He lived in their con- stant society, slept in the same apartment, was the com- panion of all their sports and plays, and gave himself wholly up to them in every thing. The plan, in his hands, giefemed to prdsper admirably : so 'admirably, indeed, that it became, foir a Httlb while, known atid praised as thfe Festar 312 NUMBEK OF FVFXLS. [CHAP. XXIV. lozzian system. It was soon found, however, that it depended solely on a kind of energy which nothing but his own enthusiasm could supply; and, therefore, after his death, it sunk into oblivion. Nor is this to be regretted, because it was his aim to make education a matter of pleasurable excitement rather than of patient industry, to render discipline unnecessary, and to form the habit of exertion by the stimulus of social ambition, without the only enduring support of religious principle. This example, under these circumstances, proves nothing on the point of numbers. We must take men as they are, and estimate their powers by the fair average of capacity, rather than by the transient success and popularity of a rare exception. And if we assume this average as the safest standard, we shall probably come near the mark by saying that twenty-five boys are quite enough for one man to govern, with real parental care ; unless he can command a degree of zealous and conscientious fidelity in his subordi- nates which is seldom to be expected. I am aware that many of my readers will think this a very low and absurd estimate. In our age, we are accus- tomed to do these things on a magnificent scale, and to cal- culate their worth according to their cheapness and their magnitude. But it must be remembered that I am speak- ing of a boarding-school which is to be a substitute for home, and conducted on parental and religious i^rinciples. I am also considering the question with reference to boys rather than to girls, who are much more easily governed and restrained. And I am not at all concerned with the question of numbers in those establishments which offer a cheap opportunity of education to young men and women, at that riper age, when, as in our colleges, they are pre- CHAP. XXIV.] NTTMBEE OF PUPILS. 313 Bumed, whether justly or otherwise, to be capable of governing themselves. In this restricted view of the subject, I think that the care of twenty-five boys will be found sufiicient for the average capacity. Of men whose minds and energies far exceed this average, I have nothing to say beyond the homage of admiration. The first Napoleon was endowed with such astonishing faculties for government, that he was able to exercise an influence over every individual soldier in a vast army ; and knew more of their character and cir- cumstances, than an ordinary captain knows of the members in a single company. And, doubtless, we may have, now and then, a JSTapoleon in the government of schools, whose intellectual vigor places him far above the sphere of prob- able calculation. But even on this moderate scale, the master of a true family seminary will be found to be engaged in a most important work for the community. For supposing him to receive his boys at the age of ten, and to dismiss them, rightly educated, at sixteen, ready for the college, the office, the counting-room, the farm, or the manufactory, and let him be thus occupied for thirty-six years, and the aggre- gate would be one hundred and fifty youths trained to be examples of religious principle, sound knowledge, and indus- trious habits, a blessing to their parents and to society. This is enough for the labor of any ordinary lifetime ; and would produce more real good than if a thousand or ten thousand had passed through his hands, with the common amount of irreligion, ungoverned license, and woi-ldly indul- gence, which prevail so largely amongst the rising genera- tion of our country. I proceed, in the next place, to consider some specific u 314 EELIGIOtrS PEmCIPLE. [OHAP. XXIV. points belonging to this system of family education in the boarding-school. And here, all agree that there must be a due amount of religious instruction. But this, as usually understood, would fall short of the true idea. The morals and motives of the Gospel are rarely appealed to in the practical work of education ; and hence the religious teaching is very apt to sink down into a dull, formal routine, which goes in at one ear, and out at the other, making little impression on the intellect, and still less upon the heart. Instead of this, it should be regarded as the rule of the daily life, ^nd thus become the actual standard of feeling and of principle ; holding up the Saviour as the great model of imitation, and ti-ying every question by the light of His precepts and example. This, however, should be done without gloom, austerity, or unreasonable strictness ; which only tend, with young per- sons especially, to make religion odious and repulsive. The Gospel is the religion of light and love, and can always be best inculcated in the spirit of kindly and cheerful affec- tion. It was the declaration of the Saviour Himself, that His yoke is easy and His burden is light. And therefore the pupils should understand the value of His precepts as the only way to real happiness, by which they may conquer sin and selfishness, which are the worst enemies to peace and true enjoyment even in this world ; and attain tha,t pure and benevolent habit of the heart and mind whi&h repels the desire of doing evil to others, and rejoices in goodness and in truth. ■With this view, there should be no appeal made to the motive of emulation. For this motive is thoroughly an- tagonistic to all Christian principle, and only Gpera,tes by CHAP. XXTV.] EMtTLATIOSr. 315 the stimulus of contest and pride ; while the reasons held out for diligence and industry by the Gospel are infinitely superior, and, when once implanted, remain through life. The boy should be taught, therefore, that he is not required to excel his young companions, because he is told to " love them as himself,"* and Christians are commanded "in honor to prefer one another, "f Besides, it is impossible that all should excel ; because it pleases God to endow them with very different measures of talent and capacity. Hence all that the pupil has to do, is to use the ability which the Lord has seen fit to bestow, as well as he can, on the true ground of duty. He is the servant of Christ, who will de- mand a strict account of his time and occupations. He is bound, moreover, to fulfil the reasonable hopes of his pa- rents, who sent him to school in order that he might learn as much as possible. He is further bound to set a good example to his companions, by his diligence and applica- tion. And lastly, he is bound to exert himself, that he may be fit for usefulness to the world when he becomes a man. Meanwhile he must not be discouraged, if he cannot do as much or as well as others. Neither must he envy their superior powers, nor be discontented with his own. For God has given him enough, if he do but use them wisely. And those who have the brightest abilities are often found, in the end, to be far less happy and prosperous than their fellows ; because the pride of their talents is so apt to carry them away, and lead them to place all their confidence in their own capacity ; instead of trasting in the blessing promised to persevering industry and virtue. These are the motives and the feelings with which the * Mark xij. 81. t Bom. xii. 10. 316 MOEAL PEINOIPLE. [CHAP. XXrV teacher should lahor to inspire his pupils. They are in strict harmony with the precepts of religion, and furnish the conscience of the boy with principles of action, under every circumstance of his future career, as well as during the course of youthful instruction. I regard the ordinary system of emulation, on the contrary, as altogether hostile to the injunctions of Scripture, injurious to the improve- ment of the young, unjust in its results at the time, and eminently instrumental in producing all the selfish con- tests and strifes which, in after life, deform society. But this system is so strongly rooted, and the truth, as I regard it, is so likely to be unacceptable, that it may be necessary to discuss the subject fully, before it is dismissed. Let it be carefully remembered, then, that the object of education is to prepare the boy for the duties of the man, and to make him what he ought to be, in all the relations of his being. This, to be effected rightly, plainly demands not only the cultivation of the intellect, but the implanting of moral principles in the heart. Of these two, there can be no controversy about the comparative importance. We all know that it is not intellectual ability, but moral prin- ciple which forms the good citizen, the faithful husband, the affectionate father, the ti-ue friend, the kind neighbor, the honest man of business. Intellectual ability, without moral pririciple, does nothing of all this ; but on the contrary makes men rogues and sharpers, fraudulent schemers, false in every social relation, pests to their family, and plagues to the community around them. It results undeniably, therefore, that the implanting of moral principle is the fii-st and highest object of true education ; while the cultivation of the intellect, though of great value, is yet a subordina,te and inferior concern. Chap, xxiv.] emulation. 317 But there is uo system of moral principle in the world which can be placed in competition with the Gospel. Infi- dels themselves always acknowledge this, for even when they cavil at the divinity and miracles of Christ, they never fail to confess the superior purity and sublimity of His moral teaching. Hence arises the necessity of taking the precepts of the New Testament as the rule of moral princi- ple ; and thus far the system which I advocate is placed be- yond the reach of doubt or disputation. Let us next see, therefore, whether the popular plan of emulation is in accordance with this order. What is its practical method of proceeding? First, in the class, boys are ranged together for the convenience of the teacher, ac- cordinc to the measure of their intellectual attainment. Out of the members of that class, some two or three are nearly equal in ability ; and they contend as rivals for the place of honor at the head. The rest, being inferior in talent, in memory, and perhaps in age, have no chance in the struggle ; and therefore the stimulus of emulation does not reach to them, but exhausts its power upon the two or three antagonists. And the successful pupil is sure to be elated with pride, 'because he lias excelled his competitors ; and they are apt to be filled with envy and mortification. Thus matters go on, day after day, until the time of pub- lic examination ; when the intellectual attainments of the most proficient scholars are ostentatiously displayed, and the triumphant candidates are graced with prizes and re- wards, not because they have done the best in their power, but simply because they have excelled the others. How do those others feel, in being totally passed by ? Some are depressed by shame, some discouraged by failure, while the majority, who had no hope of success, and yet had no 318 EMULATION. [CHAP. XXIV. other motive addressed to them except that of emulation, are more indifferent than ever towards the task of learning, and dismiss the effort from their thoughts, as not worth, the trouble. Now I ask, who in that school — who amongst the crowd that attended the examination — nay, who amongst the teachers themselves, have remembered for a moment that the first great object of education is not intellectual ability, but MOEAL PEiNciPLE? What share had moral principle in the daily teaching of the class ? "What share had moral principle in the prizes and the honors of the successful can- didates ? What share had moral principle in the applause of the assembled company ? None whatever. From firet to last, the intellect filled the whole sphere of effort and of praise. And moral principle was as completely out of sight and out of mind, as if it had nothing to do with the business of youthful training. But this is not the whole, for I have shown that moral principle, by universal consent, is based on the precepts of the Gospel ; and hence I contend that this system of emula- tion is not only destitute of moral principle, but actually opposed to it. For the apostle Paul expressly ranks emu- lation among the works of the flesh, and puts it along with strife, hatred, and other deadly sins.* And in this he is fully justified, when we reflect, that the youthful competitors for the prize of scholarship are not expected to exert them- selves on the score of duty, but simply in order that they may excel the rest. The motive is therefore plainly that of pride, and the selfish love of distinction ; which is totally at war with the love of our neighbor, and derives its pleasui-e * Gal. V. 20, GHAP. XXrvJ - EMtTLATION. 319 from another's pain. Moreover, the successful candidate is usually indebted to his superior talents ; and may be far in- ferior in real worth of character, to many of those whom he has excelled in intellectual display. And since the prize of honor is awarded to the result of those talents, notwith- standing, is there not an open slight offered to moral prin- ciple, when that is not thought worth inquiring after, while the other is hailed with admiration and applause ? "What can more manifestly tempt the inexperienced mind of boy- hood to form the dangerous conclusion, that goodness and virtue are of no account, if they can only attain a certain measure of intellectual ability ? And how, in the name of common sense, can such a system be expected to educate our youth in the love of sound morality ; or send them forth with those habits and principles which deserve the confi- dence of manldnd ? • There can be no doubt, therefore, as it seems to me, that this whole matter demands a total reformation. Moral virtue, based as it must be, on the Gospel, should be set forth as the first element of youthful training ; and no prize should ever be given to any pupil, without a satisfactory examination in the principles and practice of goodness and of truth. Talents are laudable. Learning is laudable. But the morals of Christianity should be held in higher esteem than either ; because on them, at last, we must depend for the iiltimate success of every individual man, and for the peace and welfare of the community. That this true theory of education is the only one which can rightly carry out the idea of a family school, must be obvious to the slightest reflection. We have already seen that the father gives his authority to the master of the school 5 and along with this, he transfers, for the time, his 320 EMULATION. [CHAP. XXIV parental responsibility, in the expectation that his substitut( will treat the boy as he would treat his own. But wha judicious father would consent to leave his child to th( ordinary stimulus of literary emulation, without any specia enforcement of moral principle ? What mother would bf willing to rate the learning of her son higher than hit virtue ? And how shall such teachers fulfil their parental duty, if, instead of raising the standard of Christian morality to its proper height, in the judgment and feelings of the children intrusted to their care, they are content with appealing to pride and selfishness, on the old plan of emu- lation ; and give their public honors to the few boys oi superior talent, without regard to the infinitely more impor- tant moral character which must determine their safety and happiness through life, besides involving the peace and comfort of all connected with them ? The danger of encoiu'aging emulation, however, is furthei manifest, when we consider that it is the very principle oi strife and competition, and makes the great bulk of man- kind the enemies, rather than the friends, of those who are engaged in the same profession with themselves. The moral precepts of Christianity teach us to rejoice in the prosperity of all around us, forbid us to covet their posses- sions, and command us to exert om- powers on the ground of our individual responsibility to God and to society; without seeking to rise above the rest, or wishing to depress them, in order to gratify our personal ambition ; but rather taking pleasure in their success, and accepting our own share from Providence, in the spirit of thankful contentment. Emulation, on the contrary, is always intent upon drawing comparisons with others ; and is never satisfied unless it can overtop them, and cast them into the shade. Hence its CHAP, XXIV.] EMCLATION. 321 very genius is contention, opposition, and straggle for mas- tery. The successful youth, therefore, who has borne ofi the prize from his school competitors, too often sustains a moral injury ; because he is apt to be a slave for life to the same consuming and unhappy anxiety for distinction. He is puffed up with the pride of his superiority, and as it has once been so publicly acknowledged, he expects it to be always conceded as a settled fact. He commences the real business of the world, accordingly, with the worst possible preparation of feeling ; and instead of understanding that his success must depend, under God, upon the diligent labor of persevering duty ; he calculates upon his presumed merit, looks unkindly upon all who are unwilling or unable to see it, grows impatient at their envy or stupidity, feels vexed at the slowness and difficulty of his progress, and disgusted at the difference between his past honors and his present insignificance. And the frequent result is that he falls into low. companionship and dissipation, as a reliet from his morbid and disappointed temper. He is dissatis- fied unless he can be " king of the company," and cannot be happy without some field in which the spirit of emulation can enjoy applause. And thus it is, that in a large number of instances which are known, and doubtless in thousands which have escaped observation, the flattered youths who have gained at school the prize of public honor, have been betrayed by that very means into ruin and disgrace ; while the undistinguished mass, who aspired to no superiority, have gone on with humble diligence, and far outstripped them in the ultimate attainment of credit and success. The vast importance of the subject may be lastly regarded with respect to its extensive influence on the interests of society ; for the evils of emulation may be seen amongst 14<» 322 EMULATION. [OHAP. XXIV them all. It is emulation which stimulates the ambitioui politician, and makes such small account of lies, and slan ders, and bribery, if they can only help his progress to dis tinction. It is emulation which excites the man of business to outstrip his competitors, and tempts him to employ the tricks of trade, and the arts of dishonesty. It is emulation which sets physicians by the ears, and produces the bittei animosity of those who are enlisted in the support of con- tending systems. It is emulation which reigns over the oratory of the bar, and makes the attainment of justice seem of little value in comparison with personal triumph, It is emulation which prompts the extravagance of fashion, and dooms the fairer sex to a wearisome rivalry of dress and ornament, in the desire of superior notoriety. It is emula- tion which squanders such millions in the building and fur- nishing of om* merchant palaces, where prudence and benevolence are so often sacrificed to contentious ostenta- tion. It is emulation which governs the halls of pleasure, and plants the thorn of envy in the heart of seeming gayety, and darkens the bi-ow of youthful beauty with resentful discontent, when it cannot obtain the expected prize oi admired distinction. ISTay, it is emulation which even enters the sanctuary of God, and converts it into a theatre of proud display, and tempts the preacher himself to labor after striking novelties for effect, instead of solemn truths for edification. In a word, it is emulation which fills the world with the fruits of pride, vanity, contest, strife, envy, hatred, malice, and revenge, in the selfish indulgence of some petty and miserable ambition. "Who can wonder then, that St. Paul included it amongst the works of the flesh, and condenmed it as altogether hostile to true Chris- tian principle ! OHAP. XXrV".] DUTY. 323 This false and dangerous stimulus, therefore, should be altogether banished from every school which claims to be conducted in accordance with pure morality; instead of being actually adopted into the very system of education, and praised as a motive for exertion, and rewarded with public honors, as if it were a virtue. There is more than enough of it — God knows — in every human heart ; without this studied effort to nourish and enlarge its baleful influ- ence. The whole strain of a sound and faithful training should be to root it up, as far as possible, and plant in its place the true principle of Duty. This is the embodiment of all practical morals, which should be incessantly incul- cated on the rising youth of our country — duty to God, duty to parents, duty to teachers, duty to their associates, duty to themselves, so as to prepare them for their duty to society. They should be taught to underatand that there is no other road to real happiness, for all selfishness, pride, and worldly ambition are sure to lead to disappointment and misery, while the path of duty is the path of peace and lasting pleasure. It may seem rough and rugged in the beginning, because nature is depraved, and the conquest over its opposition cannot be achieved without constant self-denial. But the victory is sure to every youth who takes the Saviour for his guide, and faithfully seeks, in daily prayer, the strength which He has promised to bestow on those that ask it. And as he proceeds, the path of duty will grow more and more easy, until, at length, it will be covered with the flowers of truth and the fruits of virtue ; and he will be safely led through all his troubles to the best portion of solid enjoyment in the present world, and to the heritage of certain felicity in that which is to come. If it were possible, then, it would be my most earnest 324 DtTTT. [chap. XXV. desire, as a friend to the best interests of the rising genera- tion, to see the true order of education arranged upon this principle. Christian morality first, and useful learning second — both governed by the same rule of Dctty. The application of the maxim to common-schools, where the work of training is performed for the benefit of the many ; as well as to colleges, where it is completed for the advantage of the few ; must be reserved for the following chapter. CHAPTER XXV. ON COMMON-SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. The boarding-school which aims at secui-ing, to a mod- erate number of young persons, the advantages of a family, is always the private enterprise of the individual under- taker. The common-school and the college, on the contrary, are subjects of legislative care and regulation. I have therefore classed them together, for this reason ; because it belongs to every legislature to jDrovide for their modes of instruction, at least so far as the public interest may require, until they are brought to the highest attainable point of practical efliciency. But yet there is so wide a difference between their respective systems, that it will be well to con- sider them separately. It is an admitted principle, throughout the United States, that it is the special oflBce of government to furnish the means of gratuitous education to every child, in the more useful and ordinary branches of reading, writing, arithme- tic, &c., so that the poorest may have suflScient cultivation CHAP. XXV.] DEFECTS OF C0MM0K-SCH00L3. 325 to discharge their social duties in the republic ; and acquire a respectable measure of intelligence, as citizens and parties in the general welfare. To this end, convenient districts are marked out ; school-houses are erected and furnished ; books, materials, and teachers are provided ; all out of the public funds. And many of our most useful and distin- guished men have had no other aid than this, in their pre- pai'ation for a course of success and honor. . So far as it goes, all this is well. The defect is that it does not go far enough to attain the object. If reading, writing, and arithmetic, with a slight sprinkling of gram- mar, geography, and history, were sufficient to qualify the boy for the duties of a good and honest citizen, nothing more would be required for the great body of the people. But the fact is quite certain that neither these, nor any other branches of mere secular art and science, can pro- duce such a result. It needs something more, and that something is a regular system of moral training^ on the principle treated in the previous chapter. ISTor can the Legislature fulfil its proper obligations in this all-im- portant matter, until some plan be devised and carried into effect, by which this lamentable deficiency may be supplied. Before I enter upon this, however, it will be proper to notice a practical defect, which prevents the children of the poor and the dissolute from deriving any benefit even from the existing system. As the matter now stands, there is no sufficient mode for securing their attendance, when, as often happens, their pa- rents are quite indifferent to their learning, or when they are too impoverished to supply them with decent clothing for the purpose, or desire to employ their time in begging or 326 JUVENILE DEPEAVITT. [oHAF. XXV. even pilfering. The children themselves cannot be ex- pected to care for the privilege, and would rather stay away. And hence there is a large, and I fear an increas- ing proportion of the rising generation, to whom the com- mon-schools are practically inaccessible. This is, unquestionably, a great public evil, which it lies upon the Legislature to remedy. For many of these chil- dren grow up to maturity, in ignorance of every thing but vice and wickedness. They become liars, thieves, shop- lifters, counterfeiters, gamblers, rufSans, familiar with the grossest forms of licentiousness, and ready for every act of violence and blood. It is from this class that oui* elections, in the larger cities especially, derive their disgraceful char- acter of fraud and disorder. They supply the chief share of work for our police, our magistrates, and our criminal courts of justice. They are the ready tools of villainy, in all its lower forms. And they constitute a perilous nuisance, more or less known and di-eaded, in every community. Is it really necessary that our countiy should bear this fright- ful burden ? Can the government do nothing to purify this pestilent abomination, and effectually stop the alarming in- crease of juvenile depravity? In my humble judgment they can ; and assuredly, if so, it cannot be denied that it is a matter of high legislative duty. It was one of the laws of Lycurgiis, the famous legislator of ancient Sparta, that all the children born in the repub- lic should be trained by the State, as the children of the commonwealth, on the system laid down by public au- thority. And no parent, however high his rank, was allowed to interfere. So effectual did this regulation prove, that the government of Sparta remained firm and unchanged for 500 years together ; and the people preserved a greater CHAP. XXV.] LAW OF SPAETA. 327 unity of character and principle tlian any other nation of antiquity. From this well-known example, our Legislators may cer- tainly derive a hint worthy of serious consideration. Why cannot they adopt the principle, with reference to that class of unfortunate children, who have no parents or guardians to provide them with instruction ; or whose parents ai'e un- able or unwilling to fulfil their duty to their offspring, and therefore either train them to vice, or abandon them to ruin ? Why should the laws not require strictly that an annual inspection be made in every school district through- out the State, with especial reference to this matter, that every father who keeps his chikben from school, during six months of the year, unless from sickness or other actual necessity, should be held guilty of a misdemeanor, punisha- ble by fine or imprisonment ; and that all children who are vagabonds, or orphans, or beggars, should be taken and enrolled as the children of the commonwealth, maintained and instructed at the public expense, until they are old enough to be bound as apprentices? That such a law would be of vast benefit to the indi- viduals and to the. public, can hardly be disputed by any re- flecting person ; because it would clear the community of numbers who would otherwise be sure to inflict upon it the worst evils of vice and disorder, by converting them into worthy men and honest citizens. The cost would doubtless be considerable ; but it would be as nothing in comparison with the increased peace and security ; the saving of the property now destroyed by theft, fraud, licentiousness, and every other form of depredation ; and the immense sums required to keep villainy in check by the hand of justice. I come next to consider the defect already intimated, 328 MOEAL TEAINING. [CHAP. XXV. which deprives our common-schools of their proper eflS- ciency, namely, the want of any regular system of moral training, without which it is mere folly to expect that they can prepare the pupils for the duties of good and trusty citizens, or fit them for the various relations of their future life. But here, on the threshold of the argument, it may be said that the public schools are only opened during certain hours of the day ; and that the children have their parents and their families, and their Churches, for the purpose of learning morality. In truth, however, _this is nothing to the purpose, when we know that they are not likely to learn morality without other help than these ; since neither family nor parents are nsiially able to teach them, and the Churches have not the opportunity, through the loose practice of allow- ing them to waste and profane in amusemeHt if not in mischief, the Christian Sabbath-day. The fobject of the government, therefore, is not attained, ari(i cannot be attained upon the present system. Provision is indeed made for a certain amount of intellectual cul^re, and eren that is far from being as good as it might be;' But there is no provision whatever for what is infinitely more important not only to the childi-en themselves, but to the public wel- fare, namely, moral training and supervision, on the basis of the Gospel. Here again, however, I may be met with another obiec- tion. For the Constitution secures equal ri fif form of Christianity, and forbids the Lee-f^lof ^° ^^^^ one before another. How, then, it mv^yZ, *° Gospel be introduced into the public school 7'' *^''° ^^^ various Churches and sects throughout the 1 ^' ° ^^^ ^^ it diflferentlj ? "^ understand CHAP. XXV.] THE SCEIPTOEES. 329 The answei" to this specioas but shallow argument is very plain, and in my humble judgment, incontrovertible. The point to be attained is Christian morality, founded on the precepts and example of the Saviour. In this, all Cheis- TiANS AGEEE. The questions on which they dispute are dogmas of faith, forms of government, and modes of public worship. But they all acknowledge the same Eedeemer. They all admit the same Bible to contain the Revelation of God. And therefore the public schools, in training up the children of the commonwealth according to the morals of the Gospel, would not interfere in the least with the equal rights of Churches, and sects ; because they would only in- culcate those principles in which all are of the same mind, and would leave untouched the points in which they differ. The Eoman Catholic, however, objects again, that the translation of the Bible used by all the rest is erroneous ; and that he cannot conscientiously consent to have it read by his child, nor used, in his instruction, as a book of authority. This cavil is also specious, and yet it is perfectly absurd to rely on it, as a valid obstacle to the exercise of Legislative duty. For, in the first place, our English Bible is only a trans- lation ; and there never was a translation of any book, since the world began, which might not be made a subject of dispute, on the point of strict verbal accuracy. But we cannot use the Scriptures, for the public benefit, in any other language than that which the people understand; and therefore we are forced to employ an English version. Morality must be taught by some means. It can only be taught, amongst a Christian nation, by the divine authority which all profess to reverence ; and hence the Legislature are bound to use a translation, and can only be reasonably 330 THE SOEIPTUEES. [ofiAP. iXV. asked to use the best which exists, in the general judgment of the vast majority. In the second place, the Legislature act as the represent- atives of the people. Under our republican government, the people are the sovereign power ; and they have, long ago, settled the whole question as to the English Bible which they and their forefathers accepted, as a true and faithful version of the Word of God, and to which alone they appealed, for religious and moral instruction. It was that Bible which was everywhere established in the schools, and no man dreamed of introducing any other. It was on the basis of the same Bible that all the laws concerning religious duties have been passed. And, therefore, there seems to be a sm-prising amount of recklessness in under- taking, at this day, to raise any controversy about the matter. But, thirdly, the Koman bishops have not a shadow of real ground for the pretence that they cannot conscientiously allow their people to use our established version, on the score of fidelity. For it is not only much superior to their own, in general style, but agrees %^'ith it substantially, in meaning. The exceptions to this agreement are very few, and in these, our established translation is fully justified, on a fair appeal to the Hebrew and Greek originals. In fact, the controversy between them and other Christians does not turn on the contents of the Bible, but on the authority of ChuroTi tradition, outside of and heyond the Bible. There is not a single point involved in that controversy, which depends on the difference between their version and ours. And hence, their real object in raising the difficulty is not to adopt a better translation than that which is already established, but to get rid of the Bible altogether ; lest the (MAF. XXY.] MOEAL TEAINING. 831 children might insensibly learn to look to the Bible for their system of religious faith, as well as for their princi- ples of moral practice. "Whether their apprehensions of such a result are well founded or otherwise, I shall not now inquire. For myself, I can only declare that I regard them as wholly imaginary. So long as the child of a Komanist believes that his faith must de founded on the teaching of his Church, which he is to receive as the unwritten Word of God, because that Church is infallible, the reading of all the Bibles in the world can never move him. But it is sufficient for my argument to say, that the fears of a small body of ecclesiastics about a possible future result, can never be taken as a valid reason for depriving the public schools of the Word of God, in the form which has always been approved by the great body of the nation. Indeed, the very idea seems monstrous in absurdity ; since it is evident that if the fears of a minority are to neutralize the judgment of the majority, we never could establish any law or system whatever. In the last place, however, it is answer enough to reply that the sole object for which the Bible is to be used in our Common-schools, is the establishment of moral principle y and therefore, unless the Eomanist can point out some pas- sages in which our established vexsion perverts the morality of the Gospel, he has no pretext for objecting to its use, for purely moral purposes, by the public teacher, I recur, therefore, to my proposition — that the great defect of our common-schools, founded for the education of the mass of our population, lies in the Avant of moral train- ing and supervision on the basis of the Christian Scriptures. The question arises, How may that defect be supplied ? The Bible must be i-etained, of course. But the mere 332 MOEAL TEAINING. [CHAP. XXV. reading of a chapter in the Bible is a small part of the work required for the moral training of children. It is the foun- dation, indeed, but it requires the superstructure to be raised, before it can be available ; and that can only be done by making it the practical rule of life, which is the. most difficult, as it is the most important matter to be accomplished, in the task of education. The first thing demanded for this great object, in my humble judgment, is to make the morals of the Gospel a distinct branch of instruction ; to be held forth, in all our public schools, as the primary and essential subject of attention, to which every other must be subordinate. To this end, books should be prepared, rising in extent and thoroughness, presenting a detailed and complete course of Christian morals, beginning with a catechism for the younger scholars, to be followed by a grammar of morals for American youth, adapted to the more advanced pupils. And every class should be put daily through some portion of this course, as the most important part of their training. This would insure the attention and the knowledge re- quired, and go far towards inclining the thoughts and im- proving the habits of the pupils, by the regular reiteration of instruction. But in addition to it, the teacher should be obliged to keep a daily record of moral conduct for each scholar ; and at the end of every term, the moral character should be made the first and most serious part of their examination, and should occupy the leading place in the certificate given by the master of the school. The next thing required would be to provide for some effectual supervision of their conduct, during the remainder of their time. And for this purpose, there should be an CHAP. XXV.] MOEAL TRAINING. 333 inspector appointed in eacli school-district, whose duty it should be to make himself familiar with aU the children, and to exercise a salutary government over their general behavior, both in their families and abroad. It should further be his care to have them entered as scholars in the Sunday-schools of their parents' choice, and to require a weekly report of their attendance and conduct on the card which each should receive from the superintendent. The first business at the opening of the public school, on Monday morning, should be the handing in of this card by every pupil, as the roll is called ; and the memorandum should be set down upon the conduct-book, and a list made for the inspector, of those whose attendance at the Sunday-school could not be proved. And on every Saturday the inspector should visit the school of his district ; examine the conduct of the past week, according to the record ; call the delin- quents to account, give commendation to the good, and rebuke the disorderly and disobedient. He should also, once in a month, or more frequently, if need be, visit the home of every pupil ; and lend his infiuence to the authority of the father or the mother, as the case might require, for the benefit both of themselves and of their children. For examples of special obstinacy, disobedience, habit- ual idleness, or direct rebellion, a further provision would be necessary. The Legislature should establish a place of discipline for obstinate delinquents, where a moderate degree of confinement, with a diet of bread and water, might sufiSce to correct their waywardness in time ; instead of their being suffered to go on in an evil course, until they commit some act of villainy. As a general rule, this place might be the domicil of the inspector ; and he should be authorized to take charge of eveiy pupil whose wilful oppo- 334 MORAL TEAINING. [CHAP. XXV. sition to the regular course of training rendered it, in his judgment, necessary. And the fear of this punishment, if seasonably applied, would be quite enough to insure suc- cess, in those occasional cases of youthful obduracy, which might otherwise bid defiance to all that his instructions or the authority of their parents could do to reclaim them. And on the 4th of July, in every year, it would be well to have a public procession of all the schools within a con- venient distance ; each school being attended by the inspec- tor and' the teacher, and a banner with some suitable device being carried at the head, by the best pujoils. The choice of the bearer might be by ballot, given by the scholars themselves, but confirmed by the inspector, in order to pre- vent improper influence. And a short address might be made to them, and some simple refreshments provided ; and then, when they had returned to their respective school- houses, and deposited their banners, they might be dis- missed for the remainder of the day. Cases of serious delinquency should be excluded from this annual festival, which would render it a useful adjunct to the influence of salutary discipline. And the eflect would be to raise the system of our common-schools in the public estimation, and especially in that of the parents and the scholars ; so as to make it more and more appreciated as one of the most important elements of the national welfare. Such is the outline of a plan which would seem to me adapted to correct the defects of our common-schools, and make them what they ought to be ; namely, an adequate course of instruction in the intelligence and virtue de- manded by our republican Constitution from every Ameri- can citizen. There is no subject so grave and important on which the wisdom of our Legislatures can operate. On CHAP. X3EV.] LEGISLATIVE DUTY. 335 tlie training of the children in this generation depends the future prosperity, and perhaps the very existence, of our Union. And the acknowledged progress of youthful li- cense, immorality, and irreligion, taken in connection with the general inefficiency of our common-schools, certainly warns our rulers, with fearful emphasis, to remedy the growing evil before it is too late. It rests on them to de- vise and apply the proper corrective, because it caii be done by no other authority. They have undertaken the work by establishing the common-schools, and in this they have done well and wisely. But they are pledged, for this very reason, to go on and perfect the system, until the ob- ject is really effected ; and I do not understand how, if it be in any way within the scope of their lawful powera, they can evade this most weighty responsibility. It is very possible, doubtless, that the scheme which I have presented may be quite unsatisfactory ; arid I am per- fectly aware that many of my readers may be disposed to dismiss it at once, as too stringent on the one side, or Utopian and visionary on the other. But I hold it to be a very idle exercise of time to expose a public evil, without devising some appropriate remedy. As an humble citizen, but yet as " a partner in the republic," where all the people are sovereign, I have suggested an available plan, according to my poor ability. And no one will rejoice more sincerely than myself, if the Legislatures of our land will only take up the subject in its true length and breadth, and establish some system which shall far exceed my own in wisdom and efficiency. ^Nevertheless, as every man who proposes a plan of public improvement is naturally desirous to be fairly understood; I must request the attention of my readers to a brief ex- 336 OBJECTIONS ANSWEEED. [CHAP. XXT. planation of those points which are most likely to be sup- posed objectionable. The first of these would probably be the strict requisition on every parent to send his child to the public school, (un- less he be able and willing to pay for his education in some other) during the six years between the ages of eight and fourteen, on pain of leing fined or imprisoned for a misde- meanor. This, of course, would seem to many minds ex- travagantly despotic and severe. Yet I have no doubt whatever that such a law would be not only just and bene- ficial to a large number of children, who are now growing up, through their parents' fault, in ignorance and vice, but that it would be in fair analogy with other parts of our established system. The law of the land now takes cognizance of the parents' conduct towards his child, in several particulars. The father has an undoubted right to chastise his son ; but if he does so with cruelty and unreasonable excess, he commits a misdemeanor, and may be punished by fine and im- prisonment. The law of the land also permits the father to regulate the food and clothing of his son, according to his circum- stances. But if he purposely keeps him in starvation and nakedness, he commits a misdemeanor again, and may be pimished by fine and imprisonment. But does the father owe nothing more to his child than the absence of brutality to his body ? Is he not equally bound to treat him as an intelligent being, endowed with the rights of a citizen? Does he not know that the law designs his son to be trained up, by the use of the means which the State has provided, in the knowledge and the principles which may enable him to fulfil his duty ? And OSAP. XXV.] OBJECTIONS ANSWEEED. 337 is he at liberty to expose that son to the inevitable alterna- tive of ruin to himself, and injury to the public ? Shall the father be liable to punishment because he is cruel to the person of his child, and shall he not be at least equally liable to punishment if he be yet more cruel to his whole lifetime ? There are two great principles in the old civil code, familiar to every lawyer : " Sic utere tuo ut alieui no?i Icedas," and, '■'■ Solus reipublicae suprema lex;'''' both of which apply directly to the subject. The first lays down the principle that the citizen must " so use what is his own, that he does no injury to another." And the second pre- scribes the great rule of all legislation, that " the safety of the commonwealth is the highest law." The father may count as his own the time and labor of his child ; but he may not use his rights to the public injury, by bringing him up in ignorance and vice. And " the safety of the commonwealth" is so absolutely dependent on the right education of its members, that the system which provides for this must be respected as a portion of its " highest law ;" and therefore the father who stands in the way to prevent its execution, and thus treats it as if it were a nullity with respect to his own son, is justly to be regarded as an enemy to the commonwealth, and guilty of an aggravated misde- meanor. It is on these principles that we are able to justify the laws made to suppress intemperance. A man has a right to buy what he pleases. Therefore he may buy intoxi- cating liquor ; and when thus purchased, it is his own. But he is forbidden so to use it as to commit drunkenness, because he injures others. He is even forbidden, in some of the States, to sell it by retail, lest the buyer may. b^ 338 OBJECTIONS AUSWEEED. [CHAP. XXV. tempted to commit the same sin; and if he violates this law, it is a misdemeanor, punishable by fine or imprison- ment. Yet how trifling is this offence against public mo- rality and order, in comparison with the course of the father who keeps his own son from access to a useful edu- cation ; and trains him up, not to commit the sin of drunk- enness only, but to be a nuisance to the community in every form of gross abomination ! For these reasons, then, I should contend that a law com- pelling every parent to send his children to the public school, for six years together, under the penalty affixed to every other misdemeanor, would be neither despotic nor severe ; but, on the contrary, it would be a law of justice to the children, justice to the parent, and justice to the conynunity. It was the law of ancient Sparta. It is said to be the law, substantially, of several European nations. And yet there never was a government on earth which demanded a stronger guard upon the education of children than our own ; because the virtue of our citizens is our only protection against disorder, in the absence of kings, nobles, or any other established class of fixed authority. The next objection might be to the office of district in- spector over the conduct of all children between the ages of eight and fourteen, who were, or ought to be, pupils in the public school. It may be said that such an office would be too inquisitorial in its character. It would interfere too much with the rights of parents. It would invade the privilege of every man to consider his home as Ms castle, and never could be made to agree with the free institutions of oiu- country. This is all very reasonable, doubtless ; but yet I do not see that it has much practical force, when we consider that the bbjfect to be attained is vitally iffiportailt to tbe BaMy of society. In my huroble judgment, no good and well- disposed parent Would object to an oflBce, which could only operate to aid him in securing the morality and obedience of his children. And those parents who are neither good nor well-disposed ought to have their children subject to some government which might save them from the ruin consequent tipon idleness and vice, and protect the com- munity from the disastrous consequences. The inspector would therefore be welcomed as a friend by all who had a desire to see their children in the right way ; and liis visits would only be disliked by that class to whom they would be most necessary. A third objection would perhaps be made against the power of the inspector to confine and punish the obstinate and refractory. But here, again, he would only be doing that which is the express duty of the parents. And hence, whenever they either fail or refuse to use the correction, which they are bound to employ, for the safety of their chil- dren and for the public good, his ofiice would afford a legal substitute of domestic discipline. And the fourth and last objection might be against the arbitrary act of taking under the protection of the State all children who are vagabonds and beggars, and providing for their maintenance and welfai'e. Tet here, also, it is manifest that some such provision is absolutely required, for the rescue of the children and the good of society. Strictly considered, the commonwealtli has a direct interest in all the children, who are, by and by, to be admitted to the privileges of citizens, and thus to become " partners in the republic." And if the parents will not, or cannot, train them in the path &f duty, the government is not only justi- 340 DUTY OF THE LHGISLATtTEE. [CHAP. XXV. fied in depriving those parents of the natural right which they would otherwise possess, but is obliged to apply some humane and adequate remedy. It is precisely on the same principle that the law now authorizes the appointment of guardians over the property of the drunkard, and confines the insane. And no one can question that the abandonment of young children to a life of vagabond beggary is usua,lly followed by far more dangerous and fatal results, than even drunkenness and insanity. Why, then, should the Legis- lature guard society against these, and yet make no ade- quate provision for the other ? To my mind these answers seem satisfactory and conclu- sive. But, as I have already said, I am not so much de- voted to my own plan, that I cannot rejoice in the adoption of any other which may be deemed preferable. The great object which I propose to myself is to contribute my hum- ble share, in calling the attention of the American citizen to the subject. The evils are manifest. They are rapidly in- creasing. Every man is interested, directly or indirectly, in removing them. For the public schools concern us all, because they educate the mass of the community. Those who are now in their mothers' arms will be, in a few years, the body of the nation. And just according to the char- acter implanted by their youthful training, will the na- tion be. Hence, every one is ready to allow the wisdom of estab- lishing the common-school system for the children of the masses. But the same wisdom which began the good work, is bound to improve and perfect it, until the object is at- tained. And therefore it may be hoped that our Legisla- tures will not " grow weary in well-doing." There is no labor in which they can be employed, of so much value ; OHAP, XXVI.] THE COLLEGE SYSTEM. 341 none of sucli deep and abiding interest, and none in which success will be followed by so large an increase of public peace and prosperity. CHAPTEE XXVI. ON COLLEGES. Undee the general term of Colleges, I would include all those public schools which are incorporated, by a legal charter, for the highest finish of education ; and over which the Legislature retains a just measure of general supervision and control. In these most useful and imjjortant establish- ments our youth are prepared for the several professions, and for the immediate introduction into the practical busi- ness of life. And there are few topics of greater interest to all thoughtful and instructed men, than a fair inquiry into their efficiency for the great objects of their institution. ISTo one can have a more profound respect for the presi- dents, the professors, and the teachers, so well and so ac- tively employed in our colleges, than I have ever enter- tained; nor can any man cherish a deeper regardfor their incessant and invaluable labors. Yet I must be permitted, in pursuance of my general design, to point out the defects which they have inherited from bygone ages ; of which there are doubtless some that might be removed in part by their official powers, but all would be far more easily and surely corrected with the friendly aid of legislative action The cardinal fault is the same which I have had occasion Si2 CHEISTIAN MOEALS. [0H4.P- XXVI. to notice at so much length, in the three previous chapters. Education in college, as everywhere else, is confined to lit- erary culture; and Christian morals have no distinct im- portance assigned to them. The inevitable consequence is what all virtuous and intelligent men lament ; — that with respect to religion and morals, college life is a period of temptation. And it is hardly to be doubted that the ma- jority of the youth who pass through it, while they carry away with them a large increase of intellectual knowledge and power, suffer also a serious decrease of moral sensibility and principle. The causes of this are not to be traced to the indifference or neglect of their instructors, who are usually Christians, and, for the most part. Christian ministers, anxious to pro- mote, in every way, the religious welfare of the youthg committed to their care. The difficulty lies partly in the lack of previous training in the young men themselves, and partly in that want of distinct attention to the subject of Christian morals, which is chargeable upon the college sys- tem. And I shall proceed, therefore, to consider both of these causes according to this order. I am persuaded that, as a general rule, the sti-ong and abiding character of every youth is fixed for life, before he is old enough to enter college. But I have examined the power and permanence of early habits and impressions in the 23d chapter, and I shall not weary ray readers by repeat- ing the arguments here. Suffice it to say, that if the young Freshman does not come into the hands of the Faculty with the motives of Christian duty, the habit of subordination to authority, and the love of knowledge, industry, and order, abeady grafted in his heart ; it is usually q^uite impossible for his instructors to supply the deficiency. Indeed the OHAP. XXVI.] CHKISTIAJSr MOEAIS. 343 effort can seldom be made. He sees them only*at certain hours of every day, in company with his classmates. He has no opportunity of that familiar personal intercourse, ■which might give them an influence over his individual thoughts and feelings. The intervals between his hours of study and recitation are passed in the society of his board- ing-house, or with his fellow-students, or in such read- ing and thoughts as please his own fancy. These asso- ciations are generally such as lead to pleasure and indul- gence. And hence, it is rarely found that he can derive any advantage from his college life, in the principles of moral virtue. On the contrary, those principles are far more likely to lose than to gain, throughout the four years of his literary course ; unless there be some peculiar circum- stances, not necessarily connected with that course, which may give them a better direction. And this is so well un- derstood, that the Faculty neither are, nor ought to be, subject to any blame, if the character which the student brings with him, instead of improving, grows worse to the end. Here, then, in the defect of his previous training, and in the tendency of his new associations, lies the first cause of the moral degeneracy which the student is so ajpt to expe- rience, during college life. The second cause may be found, as I have said, in the want of that distinct attention to the subject of Christian morals, which is fairly charge- able upon the established system. And this want may be readily understood from the fact, that Morality, as founded upon the Gospel, is not a hranoh of instruction, nor is it held up as a rule of life, in any college or university of Christendom. In this point, the same defect meets us everywhere. The Bible is used, indeed, to a small extentj, 344 CHEISTIAN MOBALS. [CHAP. XXVI. and prayers are regularly offered for the divine blessing on the Institution. But nothing is systematically done to " train up the youth in the way he should go," nor to make the precepts of the Gospel a law of daily observation. I do not forget, however, that an approved work on Moral Philosophy is made a part of the studies of the senior year. Nor do I wish to pass over the fact that Butler's Analogy, and some author on the evidences of Christianity, are added in several colleges. But this comes too late to rectify the defect in the previous three years. And besides, it is merely gone over as an intellectual study, along with Met- aphysics ; and is in no way brought to bear upon the heart and life, as a rule of real and practical efficacy. And in precise accordance with all this, is the final course of examination. There is not a word said about the Christian morals of any student. There is no attention given to his moral character at all. There is no inquiry made into even his intellectual acquaintance with the moral precepts of the Bible. But he receives his diploma with credit, as a jDroof that he has gone through a certain amount of literary culture ; and he is considered fully entitled to his college honors, without the slightest reference to his stand- ing in truth, fidelity, or virtue. I have already said that the Faculty are not to be blamed for the defective condition of this matter. The fault is not in them, but in the system which they have inherited from previous ages. The college only caps the climax of the error which I have shown to prevail throughout our whole scheme of education ; since, from first to last, the morals of the Gospel have been cut loose from the schools, and the work of the teacher has been limited to the mere task of literary and ornamental instruction. But the true CHAP. XXVI.] MODE OF EEFOEM. 34:5 design of education remains the same, notwithstanding. Its proper object is to prepare and qualify the youth for the duties of the man. His conscience and his heart, therefore, need to be educated, even more than his intellect. For if these be not cultivated aright, the increase of his intellec- tual powers will do nothing for his character. And they cannot be ciiltivated aright, except by a diligent and con- stant training in the moral precepts of the Gospel. The question, then, arises at once. Can any thing be done to rectify this defect, and make oui* colleges, not only schools of intellect, but schools of virtue ? It seems to be a difficult, and yet by no means a hopeless undertaking, if the good and wise men, connected with those important institutions, will make the needed improvement a subject of united effort, as well as a subject for united j^T-at/er. And they will pardon me, I trust, if I, who am neither the president nor the professor of a college, should make some practical suggestions, which may at least be worthy of consideration. My first resort would be to the Legislature, because I am persuaded that no authority less than this would be likely to effect any serious reform. In the present state of lax independence, when our youth are allowed to select what college they please, and change it when they please, no institution could be expected to set up a new and stricter standard ; because it would probably diminish very serious- ly the number of its students, unless the law of the land made it equally obligatory on all others. And therefore, if the government cannot be induced to interfere, I should despair of any available result from individual action. I presume, however, that they would willingly adopt any recommendation which should be presented by a memorial 346 PEOPOSBD 1,AW. [chap. XXVI. from a respectable number of College Faculties ; and in this way, much might be done, with due and persevering exer- tion. Suppose, then, that the Legislature, in every State, should be requested to pass a law to increase the usefulness of the colleges and universities, containing the following provi- sions : 1st. That in order to open the way for all deserving youth, to the advantages of a complete and finished edu- cation, the common-schools should be extended into a high- er department, where boys who had honorably passed through the present com'se, and were recommended for their moral character and industry in study by the inspector and the teacher, might go on with those branches which should prepai-e them for college, at the public expense. 2d. That in the high-schools thus constituted, the science of Christian morals should be maintained, as a leading branch of instruction ; and a record kept of the moral char- acter and conduct of every pupil. 3d. That on the final examination of the high-school, when the coui-se of instruction was completed, one-tenth of the pupils, having passed a satisfactory examination in moral character as well as in literary qualification, should be privileged to enter college and be sustained to the end, at the public expense, as the students of the common- wealth ; subject, nevertheless, to the forfeiture of their.priv- ilege, at any time, in case they should incm- the oensure of the Faculty. dth. That no student whatever should be admitted into any college, unless he exhibit satisfactory testimonials of moral character, in addition to the usual literary qualifica-. tions. CH^-P. XXVI.] EFFECTS OF STJOH A LAW. 347 5th. That every college should appoint a professor of Christian morals, whose duty it should be to instruct each of the four classes, at least once in every week of term time, in the knowledge and practice of morality, as the same is laid down in the precepts of the New Testament. And that it should further be his duty to keep a just record of the personal conduct of the students, and oversee their course, with kind and watchful attention. 6th. That in every college examination, a chief place should be given to the branch of Christian morals ; and no diploma should be granted without an express testimony from the Faculty to the moral character of the party. 7th. That inasmuch as there are great diiferences in the diligence, the talents, and the attainments of students, and it is not just that the same testimonial be given to all alike, the diplomas should be divided into the first, second, and third ranks in the baccalaureate degree, and be distributed fairly according to the merits of each candidate respective- ly. And that if the candidate deserve to stand first in moral character, and only second or third in learning, or the contrary, as the case maybe, his diploma should express the truth, with fairness and strict impartiality. These regulations, recommended by the College Facul- ties and established by law, would produce, in my humble judgment, a great and most salutaiy change in the entire circle of American education, and be felt, in due time, throughout the whole range of social, political, and individ- ual duty. For the most part, they explain themselves sufc ficiently. The object is the same throughout, namely, to elevate the importance of moral character to its true rank, in the estimation of the youth of om- country ; and to re^