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CHRISTIAN ETHICS: 
 
 MORAL PHILOSOPHY 
 
 PRINCIPLES OF DIVINE REVELATION. 
 
 BY RALPH WARDLAW, D. D. 
 
 FROM THE SECOND LONDON EDITION 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY 
 
 BY LEONARD WOODS D. D. 
 
 President of the Theological Seminary, Andover. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 D. APPLETON & CO. 200, BROADWAY 
 
 BOSTON: 
 WILLIAM PEIRCE, 9, CORNHILL. 
 
 1835' 
 

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 Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1884, 
 
 By D. APPLETON & Co., 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for 
 
 the Southern District of New York. 
 
 ^/-^/ 
 
 BOSTON; 
 
 Webster & Southard, Printers, 
 No. 9, CornhiU. 
 
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 I 
 
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 CONTENTS 
 
 LECTURE I 
 
 ON THE RESPECTIVE PROVINCES OF PHILOSOPHY AND 
 THEOLOGY. 
 
 1 Cor. i. 20.- 
 this world 
 
 Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of 
 
 13 
 
 LECTURE II. 
 
 ON MISTAKES IN THE METHOD OF PURSUING OUR IN- 
 QUIRIES ON THE SUBJECT OF MORALS ; AND ESPE- 
 CIALLY ON THE ATTEMPT TO DEDUCE A SCHEME OF 
 VIRTUE FROM THE PRESENT CHARACTER OF HU- 
 MAN NATURE. 
 
 1 Tim. vi. 20. — " Science falsely so called." - 
 
 40 
 
 LECTURE III. 
 
 THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. 
 
 1 Tim. vi. 20. — " Science falsely so called." 
 
 69 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 
 THE MORAL SYSTEM OF EISHOP BUTLER. 
 
 Rom. ii. 14. — "For when the Gentiles, which have not the 
 law, do by nature the things contained in the law; these, 
 having not the law, are a law unto themselves." - - 105 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 ON THE RULE OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 
 
 1 John iii. 4. — " Sin is the transgression of law." - - 140 
 
 LECTURE VI. 
 
 ON THE ORIGINAL PRINCIPLES OF MORAL OBLI- 
 GATION. 
 
 1 Peter i. 16. — " Be ye holy, for I am holy." - - 174 
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 
 ON THE IDENTITY OF MORALITY AND RELIGION. 
 
 1 John v. 3. — "This is the love of God, that we keep his 
 commandments." .._-_. 207 
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 
 ON THE QUESTION, HOW FAR DISINTERESTEDNESS 
 IS AN ESSENTIAL QUALITY IN LEGITIMATE LOVE 
 TO GOD. 
 
 1 John iv. 19. — " We love Him, because he first loved us." 238 
 LECTURE IX. 
 
 ON THE PECULIARITIES OF CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION 
 AND DUTY. 
 
 Rom. xii. 1. — "I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the 
 
 mercies of God." ------ 275 
 
 Notes and Illustrations, ... - 311 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY 
 
 TO THE FIRST AMERICAN EDITION 
 
 It is a principle which has often been affirmed and illustrated by 
 the ablest philosophers, and which is seldom called in question at 
 the present day, that facts are the foundation of all correct theory. 
 This principle is so generally adopted in physical science, that a 
 man who should bring forward a philosophical theory, not founded 
 in facts, would be regarded as a dreamer; and whatever strength of 
 mind and plausibility of reasoning he might exhibit, his theory would 
 gain no credit among enlightened men. This principle, in all its 
 extent, is as applicable to moral science, as to physical. 
 
 But here we are met with a serious question: What shall we do 
 with this acknowledged principle in a case where the facts appear to 
 favor different and clashing theories ? Evidently we must still found 
 our theory on facts, only taking those which are most common, and 
 palpable, and least liable to misapprehension. As to other facts, 
 which are of a doubtful nature, and which occur but rarely, — it is 
 reasonable to assume that, when better known, they will be perfectly 
 reconcilable with the more common facts, and will contribute to 
 support the same theory, enlarged perhaps, or in some way modified. 
 What is necessary in such a case is, that we should attach the chief 
 importance in our reasoning to plain, common facts, and in regard to 
 others, that we should suspend our judgment till we obtain fuller in- 
 formation. To give prominence to facts which are obscure and of 
 rare occurreuce, and to leave in the back ground those which are well 
 known, and which constantly occur, would be wholly unphilosoph- 
 ical. And yet this is the practice of many who aspire to the character 
 of philosophers. But true philosophy shows a more excellent way. 
 1 
 
VI INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 It leads us, for example, to adopt the Newtonian theory of astronomy, 
 because it is supported by the whole range of well known phenomena 
 on the earth and in the heavens; while a philosophy which is erratic 
 or whimsical, may, on the ground of a few appearances of a doubt- 
 ful character, lead to a belief in any novel or fanciful scheme. 
 
 But there is another case. A theory, well supported by facts, is 
 still exposed to speculative objections. We cannot reconcile it 
 with other acknowledged doctrines; or in some way, it involves dif- 
 ficulties which we are unable to solve. What is our proper course ? 
 
 On this question, which presents itself more or less frequently in 
 regard to all the principal subjects in Ethics and Theology, I shall 
 take the liberty to offer a few suggestions; and shall offer them par- 
 ticularly for the consideration of those young men, who are desirous 
 of investigating such subjects as are brought under examination in 
 the following excellent Lectures. 
 
 That which I think of most importance is, that we should govern 
 ourselves wholly by evidence; and by the evidence of facts, where 
 facts are to be the basis of our reasoning. This should be our in- 
 variable rule. We should receive as true whatever has clear, con- 
 clusive proof, and nothing else. When a proposition is supported 
 by sufficient evidence, we should believe it, and hold it fast, what- 
 ever difficulties may attend it. There is no subject of revelation, 
 or of natural theology, which is free from difficulties; none against 
 which speculative objections may not be urged. If these are suffered 
 to govern us, we shall have no sound belief; particularly in those 
 things which are of the greatest consequence. For it is generally 
 the case, that in proportion as a doctrine rises in importance, it is 
 exposed to the pressure of speculative difficulties. Ihis may arise 
 from the circumstance, that the most important subjects lie most 
 beyond the bounds of our knowledge. The existence of such diffi- 
 culties may also be considered as a trial, appointed for us by the 
 Author of our being. It is in reality a trial. For if a man does 
 firmly believe an important doctrine which is supported by suitable 
 evidence, say for example the benevolence of God, or the deity of 
 Christ, while various objections, unanswered, and by him unanswer- 
 able, lie against it; he evinces a well regulated reason, and strong 
 faith. But if a man is not governed by evidence; if his intellectual 
 habits are such, that the moment he begins to reflect on an important 
 doctrine, his mind is filled with a host of difficulties; and if, instead 
 of fixing his attention directly and chiefly upon the evidence of the 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Vll 
 
 truth, he fixes it chiefly upon the objections which lie against it; he 
 is on the very brink of skepticism. This is the case with many men 
 of a philosophical turn of mind, and with some devoted to the gos- 
 pel ministry. They have such a habit of ruminating upon the spec- 
 ulative difficulties which hang around moral and religious subjects, 
 that there is scarcely a single point of truth which they heartily 
 believe. Of course they enjoy scarcely any of the benefits of faith. 
 For it is manifest, that the most important truths, held in a hesitating, 
 wavering manner, can have little influence on our moral affections. 
 If then it is the desire of any one, who is conscious of a skeptical 
 tendency, to bring the salutary influence of moral truth upon his 
 own mind, and secure the benefits of faith, he must break up the 
 habit, (which was precisely the habit of Hume,) of recurring per- 
 petually to objections and difficulties, and must accustom himself to 
 employ his thoughts chiefly, and for the most part undividedly, upon 
 the truth itself, and the evidence on which it rests. The mind 
 becomes clear, by contemplating what is clear; while by being con- 
 versant with what is doubtful and obscure, it gathers doubt and 
 obscurity. 
 
 If a man would engage successfully in the investigation of the 
 subjects which are discussed in the following Lectures, he must 
 attend to the principle above suggested; and although in the regular 
 course of his investigations, he ought thoroughly to examine the 
 force of all which can be alleged in opposition to the truth, and to 
 labor after the best solution of the difficulties attending it; he ought, 
 for the safety of his own principles, to escape as soon as may be, 
 from the region of difficulties, and to take up his abode where the 
 clear light of divine truth shines forth, to illuminate the understand- 
 ing and heart. 
 
 I knew a young man of an inquisitive and fearless mind, and of 
 fair promise in respect to talents and piety, who at the commence- 
 ment of his theological studies, adopted the resolution, that he 
 ivould endeavor to get his wind into a stale of entire indifference 
 as to the truth of the Christian system, and that he would never 
 receive a doctrine as true, unless it was so clearly proved and 
 demonstrated, that no objection whatever could be brought 
 against it. This dangerous resolution he carried into effect. It 
 hardly need be said to those who are in any good measure acquainted 
 with the nature of the human mind, that he became more and more 
 doubtful as to moral and religious truth, till in the end he believed in 
 
VUl INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 nothing, but " in all unbelief." His faith and hope and happiness 
 were wrecked. He forsook the throne of grace, restrained prayer, 
 and neglected the duties of the Christian life. A horrible gloom 
 gathered around his soul, and the shadow of eternal death settled 
 upon all his future prospects. And it cost that dear youth unut- 
 terable darkness and distress, and years of repentance, before he 
 was restored to faith, and communion with God, and the comforts of 
 the Holy Spirit. He now views it as a miracle of mercy, that he 
 was not left to perish in that more that midnight darkness in which 
 he involved himself, not by a fair and impartial examination of the 
 doctrines of religion, but by pride, rashness, and a renunciation of 
 divine truth. He has learnt that, whatever may be the boast of free- 
 thinkers, the love of God and his word is the only impartial 
 state of mind. 
 
 Let me say farther, that, if a man would peruse these Lectures 
 in a profitable manner, he must be sure to obtain the knowledge 
 which is necessary previously to the right understanding of those 
 profound principles of moral science which are here elucidated. 
 What could we do towards understanding one of the most sublime 
 and difficult propositions in Geometry, without having attended to 
 the simple, elementary principles on which it depends ? And what 
 can a man expect but disappointment and confusion, who attempts 
 at once to comprehend the profoundest doctrines in moral science, 
 before making himself familiar with the simple truths from which 
 they result ? Many a man will find himself unable to get clear and 
 satisfactory conceptions of the principles set forth in these Lectures, 
 because he has not made the attainments which are prerequisite. In 
 his pursuit of knowledge, he has not travelled far enough to arrive at 
 the position, from which he can clearly survey the objects here ex- 
 exhibited : or if perchance he may have travelled far enough, he 
 has not travelled in the right direction. Such a man must prepare 
 himself to understand the subjects here examined, by a farther pur- 
 suit of knowledge in the same direction, or by retracing his steps, 
 and pursuing it in a different direction. And although he may not 
 now be able by a single movement to reach the elevation at which 
 he aims, he can reach it by gradual advances. 
 
 I have already mentioned it as a fundamental principle, that we 
 must reason from facts; and that if we construct a system, we must 
 make it rest on facts as its basis. Every true philosopher, like the 
 Author of the following Lectures, rigidly observes this principle, and 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. IX 
 
 from the beginning to the end of his labors, has to do with facts. 
 And he keeps it in mind that facts are facts whether brought to 
 light in one way or another. So far as their reality or importance 
 is concerned, the particular manner in which they are made known 
 can be of no essential consequence. But how few are the writers 
 on any branch of mental philosophy, who proceed on this principle, 
 and give as much weight to the facts which are made known by the 
 word of God, as to those which fall under their own observation. 
 And yet, if we are Christians, we must hold, that the facts which the 
 Scriptures disclose, are as certain, and in all respects invested with 
 at least as much importance and authority, as if discovered by our 
 own unaided reason and experience. Indeed is not the very circum- 
 stance, that God has interposed in a supernatural manner, to make 
 known certain things which could not be discovered in any other 
 way, a plain indication, that they are of special importance? For 
 unless they are so, why has the Maker of the world, for the sake of 
 revealing them, set aside those laws of nature, which are his estab- 
 lished modes of giving instruction, and by which our knowledge is 
 commonly bounded ? Can we suppose that the only wise God would 
 do this, were not the facts brought to light in this extraordinary man- 
 ner, of extraordinary importance ? And we find that what we might 
 thus naturally infer from the mere fact of a divine revelation, is made 
 perfectly manifest, by the considering of the nature of those things 
 whieh revelation makes known. For it is clear that nothing can be 
 of greater momenl, than the peculiar truths which the sacred writers 
 teach re?pecting our depravity and ruin, our redemption by Christ, 
 and the results of our present conduct in a state of endless retribu- 
 tion. The facts which are revealed in relation to these subjects 
 cannot be overlooked in any system of moral science, without leav- 
 ing that system essentially defective. Who can form a just opinion 
 of our moral nature, without considering that depravity which is one 
 of its most prominent characteristics ? Who can form a right esti- 
 mate of our propensities, while he takes no notice of that propensi- 
 ty to sin which is found in every human being, and which introduces 
 disorder among all the other propensities, and threatens ruin to the 
 soul ? According to the testimony of Scripture, and of experience 
 too, moral evil as really belongs to us, in our present degenerate 
 state, as any one of our animal appetites, or intellectual powers. 
 You can as easily find a man without the appetite of hunger, or 
 without understanding or memory, as you can find an unregenerate 
 *1 
 
X INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 man without a fixed, unvarying propensity to sin. The Bible con- 
 tains full evidence of this. And on this single account, the moral 
 depravity of man would deserve to be held as an essential article in 
 the science of man's moral nature. For the Bible declares what is 
 true, and places every truth in its proper light. If we do not recog- 
 nize this, we virtually renounce Christianity. 
 
 But the depravity of man has also the testimony of universal ex- 
 perience. This certainly should have secured it a distinct and prom- 
 inent place in the systems of those philosophers, who profess to be 
 governed wholly by experience. Had David Hume been true to his 
 boasted principle of experience, he would have been among the first 
 to assert the degeneracy of man, and would have traced to that 
 cause many operations of the understanding and heart. And there 
 is no way to account for it that philosophers, distinguished for the 
 acuteness of their observations on other qualities of man's intelligent 
 and moral nature, have taken so little notice of his depravity, ex- 
 cept by the influence of that very depravity on their own minds. 
 Dr. Wardlaw has detected and clearly exposed this essential defi- 
 ciency in most of the systems of ethical science which have been 
 published to the world, — even in those which have come from the 
 pens of Christian philosophers; and has shown how the neglect of 
 this prominent fact has misguided them in their speculations on the 
 most important principles in morals. In a word, he has shown that 
 whatever their eminent talents and laborious researches may have 
 accomplished, they have not produced a system which deserves the 
 honorable name of Christian Ethics. Nor will such a sys- 
 tem ever be produced, except on the model of the J\ew Testa- 
 ment. 
 
 That Christ died for our sins, is also a fact which cannot be 
 omitted in the history of the human mind. It is a fact of indescrib- 
 able consequence in regard to the moral government of Gcd, and 
 the state and prospects of man. The divine administration towards 
 us, and everything which relates to our condition, is essentially af- 
 fected by that event. It is through the influence of Christ's death 
 that any of our race become holy. To the same influence the un- 
 holy are indebted for all the good which they enjoy in this world, 
 and for their opportunity to obtain eternal life. And the death of 
 Christ, as an object of faith, has more power to constrain men to put 
 away sin and obey the divine law, than any other motive. Now if 
 the death of Christ has such an influence on the character and state 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSA.Y. XI 
 
 of man, and is thus intei-mingled with the best exercises of his mind; 
 how can it be overlooked by those who undertake to exhibit right 
 views of the mind, and of whatever has an important influence upon 
 its affections ? A philosophical account of man's moral nature as 
 developed in the Christian church, unconnected with the cross of 
 Christ, would be as defective, as a philosophical account of vegeta- 
 tion, unconnected with the influence of the sun. Whoever would 
 take a just view of the most interesting operations and states of the 
 human mind, must place the doctrine of the cross before him in a 
 clear and prominent light. And it would be easy for the Author of 
 these Lectures to show, that the neglect of this doctrine constitutes 
 as radical a defect in the principal systems of mental science, and 
 leads to as hurtful errors, as the neglect of our depravity. 
 
 The same is true of another grand peculiarity of the Christian 
 system, that is, the influence of the Holy Spirit. That Divine 
 Spirit is indeed an agent distinct from the human mind, and his in- 
 fluence altogether above the influence of any power or principle 
 natural to man. But we are taught that the Divine Spirit dwells in 
 all the pious and holy, influencing their affections, prompting them 
 to obedience, and fitting them for spiritual enjoyment. And can that 
 be a just account of the human mind, which leaves out of view its 
 most important states? And can that be a just account of the 
 causes which operate upon the mind, which leaves out that divine in- 
 fluence, which is the spring of all spiritual life and joy in the saints, 
 and which awakens so many thoughts of God and eternity and so 
 many convictions of truth and duty even in the unrenewed ? Are 
 not the holy dispositions and feelings and actions of Christians well 
 known facts ? Do we not discover in them the only moral excel- 
 lence of man ? What then shall we say of those writers on the 
 philosophy of the mind, who descant freely on all the other states of 
 mind, and on their causes, while they overlook those most important 
 states which are found in the regenerate mind, and take no notice of 
 that work of God's power, which is marked with such peculiar ex- 
 cellence and glory ? How will such authors and their works appear 
 in that approaching period, when the sanctifying power of the Spirit 
 will be general, and the exercises of holy love and faith and peni- 
 tence will constitute the common chai-acteristic of man's moral na- 
 ture ? What will then become of that mental philosophy which is 
 made up of those facts merely, which appertain to the natural mind, 
 and neglects those, which will stand out as of chief moment in the 
 
XU INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 experience of a renovated world ? The authors of such a philoso- 
 phy, however numerous, and however justly celebrated for their in- 
 tellectual powers, will then be out of date, and the veil of respect- 
 ful oblivion will be drawn over them, because they made up their 
 systems without any regard to the most important and at that time 
 the most Common and obvious phenomena of the human mind. Un- 
 numbered volumes, written with Consummate genius and industry, 
 and once studied and referred to as standards of truth, will be laid 
 aside, because they do not agree with the deep spiritual conscious- 
 ness of the redeemed, and contain systems which are built upon 
 partial and erroneous views of the mind, both in its natural and in 
 its renewed state. The time is coming, I hope it is drawing near, 
 when philosophy will be sanctified; when no Ethics will be received, 
 but Christian Ethics. The system of moral science here ex- 
 hibited by Dr. Wardlaw, will, I doubt not, be regarded with public 
 favor in the best days of the church, because it honestly recognizes 
 the humiliating fact of our moral degeneracy and our redemption 
 as taught by the Apostles, and derives illumination from him who is 
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 Were I to write a Review of these Lectures of my highly respected 
 Friend and Correspondent, I should point out a few passages where I 
 think the Author misapprehends the meaning of some American Di- 
 vines; and a few other passages on which I should find it necessary 
 to bestow more attention, before I could be perfectly satisfied with 
 the reasoning they contain. But this volume, as a whole, T reckon 
 among the best which this age or any age has produced. And I beg 
 leave to express my peculiar satisfaction, that it is now to be issued 
 from the American press, and to recommend it, with all my heart, 
 to ministers of the Gospel, and to enlightened Christians, and espe- 
 cially to Theological Students. 
 
 LEONARD WOODS. 
 
 Theological Seminary, And over, ) 
 Jan. 10, 1835. V 
 
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 By some, the author fears, the Title of this work may be 
 deemed presumptuous, and may possibly be censured, as holding out 
 promises of more than it performs, and so of exciting expectations 
 which it does not fulfill. He wishes it to be regarded as strictly and 
 exclusively elementary, — having for its design to invesitgate and 
 ascertain principles , not at all to unfold the details of duty, or fur- 
 nish a practical commentary on the commandments. Had not the 
 Title, indeed, been formally announced in the opening of the first 
 Lecture, he would now have been disposed to modify it to — Ele- 
 ments of Moral Philosophy, on the Principles of Divine Revelation. 
 In forming an estimate, therefore, of his labors, the critic, he trusts, 
 will bear in mind the avowed extent of their aim, and will not 
 condemn, as a defect, the want of that which they were never in- 
 tended to supply. He will himself be satisfied, if by those intelli- 
 gent fellow Christians, whose approbation, next to that of his Divine 
 Master, he is solicitous to obtain, he shall be thought to have at all 
 succeeded even in his limited object, and so to have done any effect- 
 ual service to the cause of Truth. 
 
 There are two things which the Title presupposes, or considers 
 as assumed, — the existence of God, and the authority of the Scrip- 
 tures as a revelation from Him. The former evidently lies at the 
 foundation of all religious principle, — of all moral obligation. Deny 
 a God, and you annihilate both. Creatures, indeed, (if we may 
 speak of creatures, when we are supposing no Creator,) finding 
 themselves in possession of existence, whencesoever they may have 
 received it, and experiencing association to be in a high degree con- 
 ducive to their mutual benefit, might consult and come to agreement 
 respecting the rules by which their reciprocal conduct should be reg- 
 ulated: — and, having so agreed, they might be said to have come under 
 obligation to one another for the observance of these rules. But 
 there could neither be any will or authority superior to their own, nor 
 any previous source or principle of obligation, by which they could 
 be at all bound in framing the laws of their intercourse. Thp 
 
XIV 
 
 obligation, such as it is, would be entirely self originated and self- 
 imposed. — And, as to personal obligation, independent of the social 
 compact, it is manifest there could be nothing of the kind. No 
 individual could be bound to act in one way rather than in another. 
 There could be no law but his own will, choosing and determining 
 according as circumstances might dictate what was most for his own 
 interest, or his own enjoyment. — I have no argument, then, in the 
 following disquisitions, with the atheist. 
 
 But neither, strictly speaking, have I any argument with the infi- 
 del. In assuming the authority of revelation, I occupy no common 
 ground with him who denies it. It is to the believers of its author- 
 ity, — it is to fellow Christians, that I make my appeal ; and especially 
 to those amongst them, to whom Divine Providence has assigned 
 situations of influence, in disciplining the minds, nurturing and 
 maturing the principles, and forming the personal or official charac- 
 ters, of the rising youth. 1 dare hardly avow my heart's wish, lest 
 the avowal should be interpreted into a presumptuous expectation 
 of contributing to its fulfillment — that the science of our land were 
 more generally and decidedly "baptized into Christ." Would it 
 were so ! Would that Christians were more on the alert in looking 
 to their principles! — more sensitively alive to the danger arising from 
 the intrusion of an insidious philosophy, in adulterating the purity, 
 obscuring the simplicity, lowering the tone, and paralyzing the au- 
 thority, of the truths of God! — When 1 say, however, that I have 
 no argument with the infidel, let me not be misunderstood. I mean 
 not, that there is nothing in the following pages bearing any relation 
 to the controversy between him and the believer. On the contrary, 
 I conceive the just exhibition of the moral principles of the sacred 
 Volume to form a very important and interesting branch of the 
 internal evidence of its truth. I believe the JZible to be its own 
 best witness. Like all the other works of Cod, it bears upon it 
 the impress of its Author; and being, more than all the rest, if I 
 may so express myself, a moral work, it bears the special impress 
 of moral character. — It is obviously, however, no part of my prov- 
 ince, in such a series of Discourses, to establish the authority of 
 the sacred record, but only to bring to the test of its principles the 
 varieties of human theory. 
 
 In attempting, with all diffidence, this weighty task, it would have 
 been interminable to bring forward in systematic order and duly pro- 
 portioned prominence, and to defend by their respectively appropri- 
 
XV 
 
 ate modes of argument, the various distinguishing doctrines of reve- 
 lation; thus presenting, in regular form, an entire system of divin- 
 ity j as an introductory basis for a superstructure of morals. What 
 the doctrines are which I regard as constituting the peculiar truths 
 of revealed religion, I have chosen rather to leave to be discovered 
 from the tenor of the discussions: — and, as a minister of the word of 
 God, I should be ashamed and grieved to have ever so expressed my- 
 self, as that any attentive reader should for one moment be at a loss 
 to apprehend the views of those doctrines which I entertain. The 
 first Lecture will sufficiently show the light in which I regard all 
 trimming, on such subjects, between the wisdom of God and the 
 wisdom of men. 
 
 There is only one point, on which, since the delivery of the Lec- 
 tures, I have at times felt a rising and lingering regret that I had not 
 insisted somewhat more formally and at large: — I refer to the pres- 
 ent state and character of human nature. In the Lectures, the 
 position has, to a great degree at least, been hypothetically assumed, 
 that the nature of man is not now what it originally was; — that it is 
 fallen, and in a state of alienation from God. And yet, after all, 
 in assuming this position, what more have I done than assume the 
 authority of revelation? The doctrine stands out in the divine 
 record with prominent notoriety, by frequent, unequivocal statement, 
 — by manifest and pervading implication, — and by the whole bear- 
 ing of its peculiar discoveries, respecting the divine provisions for 
 the restoration of this apostate nature to its original principles, — 
 for bringing it back to God, and to the purity and the bliss from 
 which it fell. — Nor is there any doctrine in support of which, on the 
 principle of the inductive philosophy, an appeal might be made, to a 
 more overwhelming multiplicity of facts in the history, and more 
 especially in the religious history, of the human race. I refer, in 
 a particular manner, to the fact of the early, universal, and perma- 
 nent loss of the knowledge of the true God, — although originally 
 possessed, and although kept incessantly before the mind by remem- 
 brancers the clearest and the most impressive in every department of 
 creation, — and the substitution in his room, of all the varieties of 
 polytheistic idolatry, the most fantastic, cruel, and impure, — in every 
 respect " a lie " against the only Deity. This one fact I cannot but 
 regard as of itself decisive; — affirming it, with all confidence, to have 
 been impossible in a world where God was loved, — nay, in any 
 world where there was not, in the nature of its inhabitants, an invet- 
 
grate and fearful tendency to forget and to depart from him. — Arid 
 to this might be added a no less confident appeal, amongst all classes 
 and descriptions of society, to present and universal observation * 
 experience, and consciousness. Let these bear witness whether this 
 be a world in which the love of God is the dominant principle, — - 
 in which piety bears the sway! Bring the question to the test of all 
 the ordinary modes in which affection is accustomed to express itself. 
 Were it tried by this criterion, there could be but one conclusion in 
 every unprejudiced mind, — that we are not in a world of loyalty 
 and love, but of fearful disaffection and rebellion. And the question 
 of human depravity ought to turn on this one point, — the state of 
 the heart towards God. There is no need for expatiating on the 
 wide and varied field of men's intercourse with each other, — though 
 here too there might be found abundant proofs of our general posi- 
 tion: — the inquiry should be concentrated on the one criterion 
 stated; — love to God, or enmity against him, being the essence, re- 
 spectively, of good or of evil ; — and the latter being capable of 
 subsistence and operation, even under its most virulent forms, in the 
 very midst of many of those outward decencies, and social amiabil- 
 ities, and "moral accomplishments," which are naturally produced 
 by the conventional virtues of the world. These are virtues, indeed, 
 which, on the principle of mutual benefit before adverted to, might, 
 to no inconsiderable extent, be creditably maintained even in a com- 
 munity of atheists. — But I must resist the temptation to enter further 
 into this most interesting theme. The number and variety of points 
 in it, which rise up in array before my mind, demanding successive 
 notice, satisfy me that it could not be duly discussed, without a 
 treatise much longer than it would be at all seemly to introduce here. 
 
 I leave it to the Committeee of the Congregational Library to pre- 
 fix their own explanation of the occasion on which this series of 
 Lectures was delivered. — It is right for me, however, to state, that 
 I owe my appointment for the first series to the circumstance of my 
 learned and excellent friend, the Rev. Dr. John Pye Smith, having 
 found it necessary, from special engagements, to decline the accep- 
 tance of it. Many will regret this besides myself. 
 
 R. W. 
 
 Glasgow, Nov. 12, 1833. 
 
CHRISTIAN ETHICS 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 ON THE* RESPECTIVE PROVINCES OP PHILOSOPHY AND 
 THEOLOGY. 
 
 I am at a loss, ray friends, to determine to which of the 
 two charges I should be most unwilling to expose myself; 
 — whether, on the one hand, to the charge of presumption, 
 in having consented to undertake the task assigned me, 
 of delivering the first series of the " Congregational 
 Lecture," — or, on the other hand, to the charge of 
 affectation, which might attach itself to any apology I 
 might now, however sincerely, attempt to frame for such 
 presumption. I deem it, therefore, preferable to proceed 
 at once, without any apologetic preamble, to the task 
 itself; leaving the merits or demerits of the execution, 
 whatever they may be, to the candid and liberal judg- 
 ment of my audience. 
 
 The general suject of the proposed series of discourses, 
 has already been announced to the public, under the title 
 of " Christian Ethics ; or, Moral Philosophy on the prin- 
 ciples of Divine Revelation:" and the first topic in the 
 series, to be discussed in the present lecture, (a lecture 
 2 
 
14 PROVINCES OF 
 
 which may, in a good degree, be considered as introduc- 
 tory,) is, — " The respective provinces of Philosophy and 
 Theology." I take for my text the words of the Apos- 
 tle Paul — 
 
 1 Cor. I. 20. 
 " Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world ? " 
 
 Treatment Is this the language of a weak enthusiast, 
 
 of human . . . , . . ... 
 
 wisdom by depreciating human science, and treating with 
 write"? 116 disdain what he does not himself possess ? Is 
 it the utterance of a vain-glorious pretender, who, in the 
 loftiness of his spiritual empiricism, looks down, with a 
 scornful pity, on uninitiated, minds ? It is neither. It is 
 the deliberate verdict of one who "speaks forth the words 
 of truth and soberness;" of one who, himself propound- 
 ing views of Deity, — of his character, his administration, 
 and his will, — incomparably surpassing aught that the 
 unaided wisdom of man had previously produced, had, in 
 this very fact, his divine warrant for the low estimate of 
 that wisdom, which, in this passage, he pronounces. The 
 estimate relates to the exercise of the human intellect, not 
 in any of the departments of natural science, but in re- 
 gard to what this same writer denominates " the things of 
 God ; " and the truth of it is established by an appeal to 
 the experience of all the preceding centuries of the world's 
 history: "For after that, in the wisdom of God, the 
 world by ivisdom knew not God, it pleased God, by the 
 preaching of foolishness,* to save them that believe." 
 
 * The words in the original are ambiguous — di& %r\g pwglag 
 toO xi]QTuy/uaTog. Our translators have rendered them " by the 
 foolishness of preaching." The difference, as to the sense, is not 
 material. It may, however, be observed, that the foolishness (in 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 15 
 
 Most assuredly, the sacred writers do not express them- 
 selves in terms of submissive deference to the wise men 
 of this world. If they were inspired, how could they ? 
 The incongruity would have been monstrous. It would 
 have been the intellect of the infinite Creator bowing to 
 that of the feeble and fallible creature ! I do not mean 
 to say, that the mere circumstance of their disparaging 
 what those wise men themselves honored with the desig- 
 nation of " divine philosophy," is itself to be regarded as 
 an evidence of their inspiration. Far from it : the dispar- 
 agement might have been of such a kind as, instead of 
 furnishing proof of their inspiration, would only have 
 made manifest their self-conceited presumption. It is not, 
 we are all aware, the first nor the thousandth time that 
 ignorance has talked disdainfully of knowledge, and 
 meanly depreciated what it could not attain. Vanity has 
 been the attendant of limited, and humility of enlarged 
 attainments; the one, the characteristic of a little, the 
 other, of a great mind. While, therefore, deference to the 
 wisdom of men is incompatible with the possession of in- 
 spiration, contempt of that wisdom is perfectly compati- 
 
 the estimate of men, for that is what the Apostle speaks of) did not 
 lie in the preaching, but in the doctrine preached. And to this, 
 accordingly, it is that the term , immediately afterwards, is applied : 
 " But we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block, 
 and to the Greeks foolishness ; but to us who are called, both 
 Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of 
 God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weak- 
 ness of God is stronger than men : "—that is, those divine discov- 
 ries, contained in the Gospel, which by men were esteemed foolish- 
 ness, were indeed true wisdom ; wisdom infinitely surpassing, in its 
 principles and its practical efficiency, all the results of human intel- 
 lect of which philosophers had been accustomed to boast. 
 
16 PROVINCES OP 
 
 ble with the want of it. All, in such a case, depends 
 upon the manner. And surely, with confidence might 
 we put it to the candid judgment of philosophy itself — 
 even notwithstanding its rising indignation at the uncer- 
 emonious refusal of its authority — whether, in the style 
 of these writers, there be anything discernible, in the 
 remotest degree indicative, either of the littleness of elated 
 vanity, or the chagrin of mortified envy; — whether, on 
 the contrary, in its unostentatious simplicity, its calm, 
 dispassionate, dignified, conscious authoritativeness, their 
 whole manner be not in admirable congruity with the 
 hypothesis of their inspiration : whether, that is, on the 
 supposition of their being inspired, they could, in this 
 respect, have written more appropriately than they have 
 actually done. 
 This treat- Still, however, to the wise men of this world, 
 
 ment offen- 
 sive to the it cannot fail to be offensive, that so little weight 
 
 wise men of - , . . . 
 
 this world : should thus be allowed to the decisions of their 
 a?vorc q e U be- cherished and adored philosophy ; — nay, that its 
 sophy and° authority should even be entirely set aside, and 
 eoogy. > ts oracu | ar voice silenced. And the offence, 
 accordingly, has been taken, and has been shown. The 
 displeasure has been but ill-concealed by the affected con- 
 tempt. It has been determined, that, if Theology will be 
 thus exclusive, so shall .Philosophy. If the latter must 
 in no degree dictate to the former, neither shall the former 
 to the latter. Each shall have its own department: and, 
 if the divine interdicts the intrusion of the philosopher, 
 the philosopher, with a jealousy no less peremptory, will 
 prohibit the officious interference of the divine. The lat- 
 ter shall have the same legitimate title to hold as truth 
 the results of his researches and processes of ratiocination, 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 17 
 
 within his own province, as the former has to hold as 
 truth the dictates of his accredited oracles. 
 
 All this might be well enough, and there Unreasona- 
 
 bleness of 
 
 might, on such principles, be a treaty of mutual this divorce, 
 
 . . and unhappy 
 
 forbearance, could the respective provinces be effects of h 
 kept entirely distinct. But this is manifestly ests of truth. 
 impracticable. To physical science, it is true, or natural 
 philosophy, (in as far as its province of investigation is 
 concerned,) there is but little in common with theology. 
 The departments of the two are more decidedly distinct ; 
 so that there is less danger of their coming into conflict- 
 ing contact. Not, however, by any means, that they are 
 without connection. Their connection is close and inter- 
 esting. In one branch of theology, — that which is usu- 
 ally designated natural religion, — physical science is a 
 handmaid, whose services are of essential value. The dis- 
 coveries and demonstrations of the natural philosopher 
 either furnish the evidences, or place them in the clearest 
 and most satisfactory light, from which we ascertain the 
 fundamental article of all religion and morals, the exist- 
 ence of an intelligent and almighty Creator. In the visi- 
 ble universe, it is true, manifold are the proofs of this 
 great truth, which it requires not. the research of profound 
 science to elicit. Were it otherwise, there would be a 
 large proportion of mankind, of whom it could hardly 
 with fairness be affirmed, that their ignorance of the true 
 God was without excuse. But in very many particulars, 
 philosophy throws a clearer and more determinate light 
 upon the argument ; inasmuch as the farther its investiga- 
 tions have extended, and the more rigid the scrutiny 
 which, in these investigations, it has employed, the more 
 demonstrative has the manifestation become of the unin> 
 *2 
 
18 PROVINCES OF 
 
 provable perfection of those works in which the skill of 
 the great Artificer is discovered. 
 
 While physical science thus supplies theology with ar- 
 gument, in laying the very foundation of her system, 
 there is another relation between them, often too little 
 regarded, but of great practical value. Besides furnish- 
 ing and elucidating the evidences of natural religion, it 
 ought to be the business of this philosophy to collect from 
 the whole system of nature materials for devotion. What- 
 ever philosophers themselves may think of it, there is not 
 a more important end which science has it in its power to 
 effect, than thus elevating the soul to its Divine Maker, 
 in the sentiments and emotions of "reverence and godly 
 fear," and of grateful adoration and praise. How deeply 
 is it to be deplored, that science and devotion should so 
 frequently have been disunited, and that philosophy, by 
 busying the mind about the works of Deity, should, in so 
 many instances, have induced forgetfulness of their Au- 
 thor, and have tended, instead of kindling, to quench the 
 flame of piety ! One of ourselves, a poet of our own, has 
 said — 
 
 " An undevout astronomer is mad." 
 
 — But what is devotion 1 We cannot consent that a man 
 shall be regarded as devout, merely because he recog- 
 nizes an almighty and intelligent Agent in the wonders 
 which he discovers and describes. How very often does it 
 happen, that, by such minds, Deity is contemplated and 
 introduced (in terms, it may be, of elegant and enthusi- 
 astic eulogy) under no other character than that of the 
 first and greatest of artists; — an artist in whose incom- 
 parable skill the philosopher, with a conscious elation, 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 19 
 
 almost feels himself a participant ; inasmuch as he who 
 discovers the secrets of a well-adjusted plan that lie hid- 
 den from the vulgar eye, regards himself as standing next 
 in order to the inventor and framer of it ; he who detects 
 and unfolds the beautiful intricacies of an ingenious me- 
 chanism, dividing the palm of ingenuity with its original 
 constructor. 
 
 Such views of Deity may be entertained, such eulogies 
 of Deity may be pronounced, while there is no compla- 
 cency in his moral excellencies, — no holy sympathy of 
 heart with the purity of his nature, the righteousness of 
 his government, or the grace of his gospel. And with- 
 out this, there is no true devotion. There is the admira- 
 tion of the philosopher, but not the piety of the saint. 
 The admiration is akin to the emotions of the musical 
 amateur, when he is fixed in extasy by the full harmony 
 of an oratorio of Handel: he fancies himself devout; 
 and yet there is little, if anything, more than unwonted 
 sensibility to the powers of sound — a sensibility which 
 gives itself utterance, when the entrancing harmony has 
 died away upon the ear, rather in terms of rapture at the 
 inimitable skill of the composer, than in the adoration of 
 the majesty and grace of Him whom the composition 
 professes to extol. 
 
 Amongst philosophical men, there have been, and there 
 are, not a few eminent exceptions to these remarks; — 
 men, in whom science has elevated piety, and piety has 
 sanctified science. Our lamentation is, that a coalition[so 
 natural and seemly should ever be wanting.* 
 
 But it is not with natural philosophy, it is with moral 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note A. 
 
20 PROVINCES OF 
 
 science, that theology chiefly interferes* It is of these 
 two that I have pronounced the provinces inseparable by 
 any definite and mutually exclusive line of demarcation. 
 There can be no boundary drawn for the philosophical 
 moralist, that does not inclose a portion, far from incon- 
 siderable, of the territory of the theologian. Their 
 ground, on many points, is unavoidably common. Their 
 lines of partition, therefore, are not so much determined by 
 the subjects which they respectively embrace, as by their 
 principles of argumentation, their sources of evidence, ami 
 the authorities to which each appeals and pays deference. 
 The theologian exhibits the proofs of divine revelation; 
 and, having established its authority, settles all questions 
 in religion and morals by a direct appeal to its sacred les- 
 sons: — the philosopher carries on his own researches in 
 his own way, in the spirit of independence of all such 
 authority, and arrives at his own conclusions. 
 
 If, as may not unfrequently happen, the doctrines of 
 the one and the decisions of the other are at variance, 
 and that, not by a shade of difference merely, but, by di- 
 rect contrariety, there is no help for it: — each must be 
 regarded as right on his own principles and within his 
 appropriate sphere. 
 
 Can anything be imagined more unfortunate than this 
 position of parties to the interests of truth? — as if a thing 
 could be true on one ground, and false on another?- — 
 true, when tried by this set of principles, and false when 
 tried by that ! — theologically right and philosophically 
 wrong, — or theologically wrong and philosophically 
 right ! The philosopher, we shall suppose, works out the 
 establishment of some favorite point by his own process 
 of mataphysical reasoning ; the divine, by an appeal to 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 21 
 
 his authorities and sources of evidence, arrives at an op- 
 posite result : that is not the sage's concern ; it pertains 
 to another department, — to a different chair, — with 
 which he has nothing to do, and from which, as he does 
 not presume to interfere on his part, he reasonably looks 
 for a reciprocity of non-interference on the part of its oc- 
 cupant. The conclusion to which he has himself come, 
 may, for aught he knows, be bad divinity ; but he is con- 
 fident it is sound philosophy : and this is all that it con- 
 cerns him to mind. 
 
 Now, in the name of common sense, what Thediscove- 
 
 , , , i • i ry «f truth 
 
 ought to be the sole inquiry with every man the only ie- 
 who takes to himself, or who deserves from oth- j2ct m of e aii 
 ers, the designation of a philosopher? Should p losop y * 
 not the exclusive question be, — and should not the an- 
 swer to it be sought with equal simplicity and earnestness 
 of purpose, — what is truth? What other object can 
 there be, of aught that is entitled to be called philosophy, 
 but the discovery of truth 7 Of what conceivable use or 
 value are all the investigations and reasonings of philos- 
 ophy, if not for the ascertaining of truth ? And, in order 
 to arrive at truth, is it not the proper business and the 
 imperative duty of the philosopher, to leave no quarter 
 unexplored, where evidence of any description can be 
 found ; nothing whatsoever unexamined that promises to 
 throw even a single ray of light on the subject of his inqui- 
 ry, one solitary beam on his path that may contribute to 
 guide him to a right result 1 Can anything be more irra- 
 tional, more unworthy of a mind that is really honest and 
 in earnest in its desires after truth, than for him who pro- 
 fesses to be in pursuit of it to allege, ^respecting any 
 source of information or department of evidence, that he 
 
22 PROVINCES OF 
 
 has nothing to do with it? No man of sound principle 
 and enlightened judgment will ever sit down satisfied 
 with a conclusion which he knows to have been formed 
 on a partial investigation, or so long as there remains un- 
 examined any accessible source of information or of 
 proof which may possibly shake its stability — nay, for 
 aught he knows, may even demonstrate its fallacy, and 
 constrain its rejection. 
 
 Everything, without exception, should be regarded as 
 pertaining to the province of the genuine philosopher that 
 holds out any promise of conducting him to truth. This 
 should be the ultima Thule of all his voyages of discov-- 
 ery. Like a skillful navigator, he will make use of every 
 information that can enable him to chart out his course, 
 so as to reach it with the greatest safety, directness, and 
 speed. If he misses it in one direction, he will try an- 
 other, availing himself of every wind and of every cur- 
 rent that may bear him to his wished for destination. 
 
 The application of these general principles will be 
 already apparent. In the Bible, we possess a document, 
 by whose contents a great variety both of facts and sen- 
 timents are materially affected. It professes to be of the 
 remotest antiquity, and of the very highest authority. 
 Suppose, then, that, by his own process of argumentation, 
 a philosopher has arrived at a particular conclusion re- 
 specting the truth or falsehood of some fact or opinion. 
 You say to him — "I find something very different from 
 your conclusions in the statements of this book." He 
 answers, with all imaginable coolness, — " It may be so ; 
 that does not come within my legitimate range; it belongs 
 to the province of the divine. It is his business, the best 
 way he can, to make out the consistency of the state- 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 23 
 
 ments of the Bible with the decisions of philosophy. If 
 there be a discrepancy, it is unfortunate ; but I cannot 
 help it : — the harmonizing of the two lies not with me, 
 but with him." But why so? What good reason is 
 there, why the onus of finding a principle of reconcilia- 
 tion should be made to rest entirely on the theologian ? 
 We cannot consent to this. We cannot quiescently per- 
 mit philosophy to assume so lofty a bearing ; to take her 
 own decisions for granted, and, with the port and tone of 
 a self-sufficient superciliousness, leave the divine to make 
 what he can of their consistency with his Bible. We 
 cannot allow the authority of this document to be thus 
 unceremoniously left out of the account. We insist upon 
 it, that, on every point respecting which it delivers a tes- 
 timony, the proofs of its authority, or of its want of au- 
 thority, are among the evidences, on that point, which 
 every lover of truth — that" is, every true philosopher — 
 should feel himself under imperative obligation carefully 
 to examine. 
 
 As the philosophy is of no sterling worth, that con- 
 ducts not to truth: if the authority of the document can 
 be established, and the verity of its statements conse- 
 quently ascertained, then it becomes, on all matters of 
 which it treats, the only 'philosophy ; unless we are deter- 
 mined to dignify with the honorable appellation a system 
 of falsehood. If any man is prepared to avow, that he 
 would prefer falsehood, as the result of one process of 
 inquiry, to truth, when ascertained by another, — then 
 may he, consistently, leave out of his investigation the 
 evidences on which the claims of this document rest. 
 But should we call such a man a philosopher? It" were 
 a miserable misnomer ; inasmuch as no procedure could 
 
24 PROVINCES OF 
 
 be more thoroughly unphilosophical, than to refuse any 
 light, be it what it may, that promises to conduct to what 
 is the sole end of all rational inquiry. 
 Exempiifica- Allow me to illustrate my meaning by a case 
 
 tion of these . . 
 
 principles— or two, in the way of exemplification. 1 hey 
 are not at all connected with our present subject, but 
 merely explanatory of the principle, which it is my aim 
 to establish. I purposely indeed select my illustrative 
 examples from departments unconnected with the one 
 under discussion, that I may at once avoid anticipation, 
 and keep myself clear of any charge of prejudging the 
 question. They shall be cases that relate not to doctrine 
 but to fact. 
 
 1. in the case ^ ^ as been a subject of controversy, wheth- 
 mo^origin 1 " er > as i s usually supposed, the race of mankind 
 of mankind. ^ gjj | tg y^rieities, had a common origin; — 
 whether, that is, all these varieties sprung from the same 
 pair. — Suppose, then, that, on an extensive survey, and 
 a minute inspection of the various tribes of men on the 
 surface of the globe, there are found appearances both for 
 and against the ordinary belief of a common original 
 stock. Suppose, if you will, the appearances on the two 
 sides of the hypothesis to be even nearly on a balance, 
 and to leave some little room for hesitation and scepti- 
 cism. In this posture of the case, here is a document, 
 which, in the most explicit terms, affirms the common 
 origin ; and which proceeds, throughout, upon the as- 
 sumption of God's having "made of one blood all nations 
 of men to dwell on the face of the whole earth." With- 
 out intending, in the least degree, to lay any interdict on 
 philosophical investigation, to put a stop to the continued 
 collection and comparison of facts, and the free and un- 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 25 
 
 embarrassed discussion of whatever these facts may seem 
 to indicate, — my simple affirmation is, that the authority 
 of this document is fairly entitled to be examined upon 
 the question : — nay more, — that it is not only so enti- 
 tled, but that the man who professes to be actuated by a 
 sincere desire to ascertain the truth, does not act consis- 
 tently with his professions, so long as he either refuses or 
 neglects such examination. 
 
 I am not now assuming the authority of the document, 
 and attempting to silence philosoplry, by an appeal to di- 
 vine testimony: all I contend for is, that its claims to 
 authority be fairly investigated ; that the competency or 
 incompetency of the witness be ascertained : that his pre- 
 tensions be not set aside without inquiry. He may not, 
 on the one hand, be found worthy of confidence ; or, on 
 the other, his deposition may be' so attested as to render 
 it creditable, material, and even decisive. But, whichso- 
 ever of these may be the result, the question at issue has 
 not, we affirm, been fully, impartially, and in the true 
 spirit of philosophy, investigated, if the pretensions of the 
 witness be not candidly inquired into, and the credit due 
 to his testimony correctly appreciated : — and, on this 
 principle, the entire evidence, in all its variety, of the 
 genuineness, the authenticity, and the divine inspiration, 
 of this document, does come, not legitimately only, but 
 imperatively and indispensably, within the range of in- 
 vestigation belonging to this question; — there being 
 nothing more pregnant with folly, than summarily to dis- 
 card, without a deliberate and rigid examination of his 
 character and credentials, any guide, who promises to 
 lead our steps to the oracle, where doubts may be settled, 
 and truth satisfactorily learned. 
 3 
 
26 PROVINCES OF 
 
 2. in the The same principles might be further illus- 
 
 case of the r r o 
 
 Deluge. trated from the case of the general Deluge. 
 Various conflicting theories have been framed, respecting 
 the cause or causes of particular appearances which pre- 
 sent themselves to scientific inquirers, on and under the 
 surface of our globe: one geologist demonstrating that 
 these appearances cannot be accounted for on any other 
 hypothesis, than that of the earth, at some remote period, 
 having been subjected to a catastrophe of this descrip- 
 tion; while a second, pronouncing such a cause totally 
 incompetent to explain the phenomena, has recourse to 
 others, real or conjectural, which, in his estimation, are 
 both more appropriate, and more adequate. In these cir- 
 cumstances, here is an ancient document^ in which the 
 awful event is recorded, and its more awful cause is as- 
 signed. Is no heed to be given to the claims of such a 
 record ? Suppose scientific investigation to leave the case 
 undecided- — adhuc sub judice;- — is that man entitled to 
 the character of a lover of truth, who will be satisfied to 
 let it remain in this undetermined state, rather than even 
 examine the evidence on which the authority of this doc- 
 ument rests? I presume there can be but one answer to 
 this question, unless philosophy is prepared to disown the 
 love of truth as a principle of her character, 
 ^cation'of" * ma y f rame these statements more gen- 
 E!?i ci To S the era ^Ji an ^> m t ^ r g' en eral form, without any 
 question abatement of decision. -^ With every man of 
 
 whether J 
 
 the Bible be sound wisdom, the very first of all inquiries 
 
 a revelation . ,, 
 
 from God. ought, without question, to be, Have we, or 
 have we not, in the book called the Holy Scriptures, a 
 revelation from God % This is an inquiry which no sane 
 man can treat with lightness: nor can we allow any man 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 27 
 
 to deserve the designation of a philosopher, who has not 
 bent the entire energies of his mind to its investigation 
 and settlement ; — sifting out every atom of proof, — ad- 
 justing the balance with impartial accuracy, and giving 
 to every argument its legitimate weight. I know that 
 there are some self-called philosophers, who will receive 
 such an assertion as I am about to make with a sneer of 
 ineffable scorn, — but I shrink not on that account, from 
 making it, confident as I am that, even in their minds, 
 the disdain is either the offspring of an ignorant vanity, 
 or is not in harmony with the secret dictates of their 
 sober judgment; — that there is no one inquiry whatever, 
 which ought to take 'precedence of this, or to be prosecuted 
 with anything like an equal solicitude for a true result. 
 
 Nothing can well be more insensate, than for a man to 
 be spending his time, and taxing to the uttermost his 
 intellectual resources, and exhausting his mental energies, 
 in exploring, and reasoning, and laboriously searching for 
 truth, — " feeling after it, if haply he may find it," — and 
 in the end arriving at no certainty, but only landing 
 himself in the dim and dubious twilight of distressing 
 conjecture ; when, by first ascertaining, from a due ex- 
 amination of his credentials, the trust-worthiness and 
 capacity of an offered guide, he may be conducted at 
 once to his object, and enjoy the clear sunshine of intel- 
 ligent and settled conviction. — In all that I have thus 
 said, I have spoken of what ought to be. I am not 
 unaware, nor unmindful, of the prejudice and bias that 
 exists in every mind against the actual discoveries of rev- 
 elation ; — but I can say no more at present, than that 
 all such bias and prejudice is wrong, and has in it not 
 
28 
 
 PROVINCES OF 
 
 merely the spirit of folly, but the essential element of 
 moral pravity. 
 
 2 uestion e * ^ ave n i tnert0 spoken hypothetically. Al- 
 
 how such a j ow me now to assume the divine authority of 
 
 revelation is , ^ 
 
 to be used, the Bible, as having been established by sat- 
 isfactory evidence. The next question is, — What, 
 on this assumption, becomes our duty? And is there 
 another answer than one, which, by any sound and sober 
 mind, can be returned to this question? On the principles 
 of common sense and of true science, who can hesitate ?• 
 The supposition is, that the divine authority of the record 
 has been satisfactorily ascertained : — what inquiry, then, 
 can possibly remain, but the inquiry, " What saith the 
 Scripture?" What are the lessons which the record 
 teaches? I am aware, that the nature of its lessons 
 comes, to a certain extent, amongst the previous proofs 
 for or against its authority ; — but I am not now consid- 
 ering the process of argument by which the point of 
 authority has been settled ; I am proceeding on the 
 assumption, that by a harmony of external, internal, and 
 experimental evidence, that point has been brought to a 
 satisfactory decision. The sole object of investigation 
 comes then to be, — the meaning of the language in 
 which the intimations of the Divine Oracles are conveyed. 
 It must come to this. The questioning of any of their 
 discoveries, as contrary to reason, and inconsistent with 
 otherwise ascertained principles of truth, is then out of 
 place. It ought to have been introduced in the investi- 
 gation of evidence. The present assumption is, that 
 such investigation is over, and has terminated in the de- 
 cision that the book is divine. In these circumstances, 
 we must take high ground in behalf of revelation. Phi- 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 29 
 
 losophy and theology stand, in this respect, on a widely 
 different footing. The philosopher, as I have already 
 said, having arrived at his conclusion, would, with all 
 possible sang-froid, leave it to the theologian to reconcile 
 that conclusion with the dictates cf his Bible. But, on 
 the supposition of this Bible having been ascertained to 
 be from God, — 
 
 " The sempiternal source of truth divine," 
 
 we must not only modify but precisely reverse this posi- 
 tion ; unless we would exalt the wisdom of the creature 
 above that of the Creator. So far from its belonging to 
 the divine, to harmonize the discoveries of this inspired 
 document with the dogmata of the philosopher, it is in- 
 cumbent on the philosopher, unless he can fairly meet 
 and set aside the proofs of its inspiration, to bring his 
 dogmata to the test of the document. What the divine 
 has to do, — and this we admit to be incumbent upon 
 him, — is, to make good the authority of his standard j 
 and, having established this, to elicit with clearness its 
 decisions. To insist upon its being his province to recon- 
 cile these decisions with the contrary decisions (if such 
 there be) of the philosopher, would be to assert the supe- 
 rior decisiveness of philosophical conclusions to that of 
 divine intimations. We should be unfaithful to our God, 
 and throw a disparaging insult on his name, were we 
 thus to consent that the wisdom of " the only wise" 
 should make its obeisance to the chair of human science ; 
 — or were we to admit that he has left his word with 
 less conclusive evidence in its behalf, than that by which 
 the wise men of this world can vindicate the dictates of 
 their own sagacity. 
 *3 
 
30 
 
 PROVINCES OF 
 
 of some ess Philosophical divines, it is to be feared, have 
 
 XvTnelfin at times contributed not a little to this letting 
 
 intention^?" ^ own °f divine revelation from its sacred pre- 
 
 thepara- eminence, as the Dictator of truth. Their 
 
 mount au- 
 thority of predilection for metaphysical speculations has 
 
 revelation. * . 
 
 occasionally appeared to gain the ascendency 
 over the simplicity of faith in the uncompromising dec- 
 larations of the "lively oracles." To save the credit of 
 their favorite science, they have been tempted to blend 
 its theories with their theological system, modifying the 
 latter by the former, and accommodating the former to 
 the latter, in such a manner, that the principles of the 
 Gospel have been robbed of their divine simplicity, and 
 have been so moulded into philosophical forms of state- 
 ment, as hardly to be recognizable by those who have 
 studied them only in the writings of the Apostles and 
 Prophets. The warp and the woof of divine and human 
 have thus been woven into a tissue of incongruous and 
 anomalous texture. A solicitude has been discovered, to 
 reconcile divine truths with philosophical principles, which 
 has gone to such an extreme, as to leave it a matter of 
 uncertainly, whether the philosophy or the divinity holds 
 the surest place in the writer's convictions; — which of 
 the two he intends to be regarded as the test of the other. 
 This amalgamation of philosophy and theology, has, from 
 the beginning, been a copious source of error. In depre- 
 cating, on the principles which have been stated, the 
 divorce between the two, I would not be understood as 
 pleading for the incorporation of the dictates of the former 
 with the divinely simple and authoritative discoveries of 
 the latter. These discoveries must be received as they 
 stand, or let alone. There must be a child-like submis- 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 31 
 
 sion of the mind to divine teaching. We must " become 
 fools that we may be wise." 
 
 It must, I repeat, come to this — But than 0ff ensive- 
 
 1 ' ness of lra- 
 
 than this, there is nothing more galling to the p 11 ^ faith 
 
 000 to human 
 
 spirit of that " science, falsely so called," which, P rid e- 
 in modern as in ancient times, has usurped the exclusive 
 designation of Philosophy. Implicit faith, to borrow the 
 terms of the poet on another subject, 
 
 " is its perfect scorn, 
 Object of its implacable disgust." 
 
 ■ — It puts to flight so many of its lofty and independent 
 speculations ; bringing down the wise man of this world 
 from the proud eminence of mental self-sufficiency, and 
 placing him, as a mere learner, a listener and asker of 
 questions, at the feet of Prophets and Apostles ; — setting 
 him to school, with his grammar and his dictionary, to 
 find out what it is that these men say, and in every point 
 of which they treat, to bow without gainsaying to their 
 authoritative decisions. This will never do. It stirs the 
 blood of intellectual pride. It frets and chafes the 
 haughty spirit of independent reason. Let weak narrow- 
 minded bigots submit, in all their littleness of soul, to be 
 thus schooled and dictated to : his must be a course of 
 undaunted freedom of thought, — of an unfettered and 
 excursive independence of intellect. 
 
 Yet surely no axioms can have more in them of self- 
 evidential truth, than the positions, that, if the Bible be 
 the word of God, it must be true ; — and that, if true, it 
 must, on the subjects of which it treats, and on which it 
 delivers its divine lessons, be philosophy, and the only 
 philosophy. There must be some other aim than truth in 
 that man's view, who, on whatever subject, would lay 
 
32 PROVINCES OP 
 
 under interdict and proscription any branch of evidence : 
 — and when, at any time, our appeal to the Holy Scrip- 
 tures is answered with an indignant scowl, as if by such 
 appeal we were putting fetters upon thought, and imposing 
 silence on the tongue ; — as if we were laying the ports 
 of science under blockade, and affixing the stigma and 
 the peril of piracy to scientific adventure ; — we answer, 
 No : we only say, and we say it with all confidence, — 
 that philosophy acts unworthily of her own character 
 and pretensions, if the claims of such a document are 
 unexamined, and, without examination, refused admission 
 in evidence ; we only insist upon it, that, in the commerce 
 of truth, this port be kept free of embargo as well as all 
 the rest; and, moreover, that, on the supposition of its 
 having been ascertained that certain descriptions of the 
 precious article of which we are in quest can be obtained 
 genuine from this port alone, then does it become a pre- 
 posterous expenditure of time and toil, and a worse than 
 unprofitable outlay of our intellectual resources, to be 
 fitting out expeditions, and undertaking distant voyages, 
 to regions from which we can bring back no cargo but 
 what is spurious or adulterated. 
 Unworthy There is occasionally to be found amongst 
 
 and injuri- ^ ° 
 
 ous manner our philosophers, a species of respect for the 
 revelation is Scriptures, that is, perhaps, more injurious in its 
 treated. tendencies, especially to the youthful mind, than 
 a direct and open denial of their authority. While 
 spoken of with verbal courtesy and all due deference, 
 they are still subjected to the reasonings of men ; and at 
 times, by a miserable perversion of their words, the in- 
 spired penmen are even represented as subjecting them- 
 selves to such reasonings, recommending their doctrines 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 33 
 
 to the revision of human wisdom, and by no means de- 
 manding implicit submission. " I speak as to wise men, 
 judge ye what I say," is insidiously interpreted as a dis- 
 claimer of ultimate authority, as leaving everything 
 which the writer dictates to be received or not, according 
 as it does or does not coincide with the- reader's own 
 judgment. Insinuations are thrown out, — of which the 
 influence is the more dangerous from their having the 
 aspect of general truths, and from their being in harmony 
 with the tendencies of corrupt nature, — that in none of 
 our investigations should we allow our minds to be tram- 
 meled by prepossessions, and restrained from that freedom 
 of inquiry, which is every man's inalienable birthright, and 
 of which the due appreciation and the fearless use are 
 the peculiar glory of philosophy. Hints are suggested, 
 that, in our interpretations of Scripture, we may possibly 
 be mistaken ; there being, in many parts of the book, not 
 a little obscurity : — that there may, after all, be some 
 principle of harmony between what it testifies, or seems 
 to testify, and the decisions of philosophy : — but, at all 
 events, such appear to be the conclusions to which sound 
 and unprejudiced reason conducts us ; and there is nothing 
 for it, but to leave them to the considerate candor of the 
 reader's or hearer's own mind. Philosophy, in this way, 
 still keeps the precedence ; and the Apostles and Prophets 
 are, with all politeness, and every assurance of the most 
 profound respect, bowed to the door. Now, in some re- 
 spects, it would be better, were they unceremoniously 
 hooted off the stage, than thus dismissed with the simula- 
 tion of courtesy. It would be more honest, and it would 
 be less pernicious. The assurances of respect serve no 
 other purpose, than to lessen the shock given to the prin* 
 
34 PROVINCES OP 
 
 ciples and feelings of those who have previously been ac- 
 customed to defer to their authority ; and, by this means, 
 they tend to open access for the easier admission of error. 
 The sacred writers are found to stand inconveniently in 
 the way. It would be rude to beard them, and to set 
 them at avowed defiance. The happy art is, to slip the 
 pupil cautiously and gently past them, without any ap- 
 pearance of assault or contumely, and so as that he him- 
 self shall hardly be aware of the passage that has been 
 made for him. 
 
 evanroScai * ma y ^e a ^ owe ^ nere to observe, how deeply 
 much of our ** * s t0 ^ e deplored, that the philosophy which 
 philosophy issues from certain chairs of our schools of 
 
 to be lament- 
 ed ;■— espe- learning should be thus, in its spirit and in many 
 
 cially for its < ° , . r f 
 
 effects upon of its principles, unbaptized and covertly anti- 
 christian. I mention it the rather, for the sake 
 of impressing, on parents and guardians of youth, the 
 vast importance to a young man, previously to his attend- 
 ance on a course of such prelections, of his being thor- 
 oughly established in the enlightened conviction of the 
 paramount authority of revelation ; so that he does not 
 hold this conviction as the mere result of educational 
 prejudice, but as the effect of as extensive and intelligent 
 an acquaintance as possible with its contents, and with 
 the harmonious dependencies of all the parts of its system 
 of truth, of a careful study of its evidences, and, above 
 all, of a heart-felt experience of its renewing power. If 
 he comes under such tuition as I have been describing, 
 with nothing in his mind, in behalf of the Bible, beyond 
 a youthful prepossession, he runs an imminent risk. His 
 mind will soon be bewildered. At the first suggestion of 
 any speculation, which seems at variance with what he 
 
- PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 35 
 
 has been accustomed to revere as the testimony of God, 
 his heart may beat thick with a distressful trepidation. 
 But he gets over the first agitation. He becomes, by de- 
 grees, enamored of the theories that are brought before 
 • him. The views are novel ; the arguments in their sup- 
 port are unanticipated and plausible. The opinions and 
 speculations are pleasing and captivating to the ardor 
 of youthful fancy, and alluring to the spirit of inquisitive 
 curiosity and independent thinking. Doubts arise and 
 multiply. A spirit of speculative scepticism is generated, 
 and gradually gains the ascendant. Early notions and 
 impressions are discarded, as unfounded prejudices : and 
 the Bible is either thrown aside as a volume of "old 
 wives' fables;" or a heterogeneous compound of philo- 
 sophical and theological opinions, ill-assorted and mutu- 
 ally contradictory, becomes — I can hardly say, the creed, 
 for opinion is not faith, and things inconsistent and con- 
 trary cannot both be believed, — but the unsettled, con- 
 fused, and fluctuating system of thought ; as to the va- 
 rious points of which, the listless or unhappy sceptic sat- 
 isfies, or tries to satisfy himself, with the trite and puerile 
 reflection that " much may be said on both sides." 
 
 By some of my hearers I may be thought to have 
 drawn this picture strongly. Yet I am not aware of 
 having, in any of its shades, overlaid the coloring, or of 
 having delineated any one of its features in caricature. 
 It is more than my fear, it is my conviction and my 
 knowledge, that with little if any softening, the portrait 
 has had its prototype in fact. And I confess, that, along 
 with the general importance and interesting nature of the 
 discussions themselves, this consideration has contributed 
 
36 PROVINCES OP 
 
 not a little to settle my choice of a subject for the pro- 
 posed series of lectures.* 
 
 oHhfsub- There cannot, certainly, be any subject higher 
 alfand" 101 " * n i m P ortanc e, or deeper in interest, than that of 
 principles Morals. It comprehends in it all the obliga- 
 
 on which the * ° 
 
 following tion, not of human beings alone, but of intelli- 
 
 discussions ° 
 
 are to be ^ e nt creatures universally, in all the relations 
 
 conducted. ■> ,',.,'-.'. 
 
 they can occupy, whether to their Maker, or to 
 each other ; together with the great original principles, 
 so far as they can be ascertained, from which these obli- 
 gations arise. Such is the enlarged acceptation in which 
 I would be understood as employing the term in those 
 discussions, on which, with all diffidence, I am about to 
 enter. It is my design, to treat of morals in the light of 
 revelation, and to bring to the test of its principles, some 
 of the leading philosophical theories of ancient and mod- 
 ern times. I do not mean that I am to confine myself to 
 the simple statements of the Holy Scriptures ; but only, 
 that I would take those statements as " the light of my 
 feet and the lamp of my path," in prosecuting every in- 
 quiry that goes at all beyond their range. I would lay it 
 down, with all the certainty of an axiomatic principle, 
 that divine revelation and true philosophy can never be 
 really at variance ; that it is only false philosophy that 
 fears revelation, or that revelation needs to fear. Truth 
 is one. There have been those, in the history of the 
 Christian church, who have waged the most desperate 
 war against philosophy, as " the mortal enemy of reli- 
 gion." Such, for example, was Daniel Hoffman, in the 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note B. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGV. 87 
 
 end of the sixteenth century, professor of divinity at 
 Helmstadt, whom Mosheim represents as maintaining, in 
 the vehemence of his enmity, the singularly absurd posi- 
 tion, " that truth was divisible into two branches, the one 
 philosophical, and the other theological ; and that what 
 was true in philosophy was false in theology."* I 
 need say no more of such a statement than has been 
 already said. But, while we smile at its folly, let us not 
 forget to consider, in mitigation of our scorn, the nature 
 of that multiform and incomprehensible jargon which 
 then passed under the denomination of philosophy, and 
 the serious injury to the cause of divine truth which had 
 arisen from the intermixture with its sublimely simple 
 discoveries of the crude conjectures and mystical specula- 
 tions of the schools. When we think of the adultera- 
 tion, the debasement, the almost extinction of Christianity, 
 whose simple elements were overwhelmed amongst the 
 accumulated rubbish of scholastic science — "science, 
 falsely so called " — it will not be matter to us of great 
 surprise, that, in their zeal for purifying religion, some of 
 the reformers themselves should have fallen into the ex- 
 treme of proscribing and discarding philosophy altogether. 
 We ought to recollect, in their behalf, how, in course of 
 time, terms come to change their import. Philosophy 
 then was something very diverse from philosophy now. 
 Since the domination of the Stagyrite was overthrown, 
 and the mystic oracles of the schoolmen, the darkening 
 commentators of Aristotle, were silenced ; since Bacon 
 introduced the true principles of scientific investigation : 
 the name of philosophy has been retained, but the thing 
 
 * Mosheim, Vol. IV, p. 302. 
 4 
 
38 PROVINCES OP 
 
 designated by it has undergone an essential change.* 
 Whether it be the philosophy of mind, or of matter, it 
 now proceeds upon facts, as its only admissible data j and 
 with existing facts it is impossible that divine revelation 
 should ever be at variance. In the procedure of philoso- 
 phers, there may not, on all accasions, be a duly consistent 
 adherence to the inductive principle ; but, however it may 
 be departed from in practice, it is by all adopted in pro- 
 fession. He who would not be satisfied by the passing 
 breath of inconsiderate applause, but would enjoy, among 
 men of sense and reflection, solid and lasting reputation 
 for true science, must neither spin out into theories the 
 materials furnished by his own fancy, nor even, however 
 ingeniously, frame structures of principles, and then set 
 out in quest of facts to support them. To the lover of 
 truth, even the most ingenious conjectures will be the 
 suggestion of previously noticed or recorded facts ; and 
 he will immediately reject them, if they are unsupported 
 by subsequent observations and experiments. It had been 
 well if, in certain questions closely connected with the 
 subject of these lectures, — questions relative especially 
 to the present character of human nature, — there had 
 been less of plausible and often (it must be admitted) 
 beautiful theorizing, and a more rigid observance of the 
 inductive principle. Revelation would have nothing to 
 fear from such a process, but everything to hope. There 
 would be found a correspondence between its statements 
 and a larger induction of facts than can be brought to 
 bear upon any other point whatever, in the whole range 
 of natural and moral science ; an induction, embracing a 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note C. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY. 39 
 
 wider field of experiment, extending through a longer 
 period of time, and yielding a more invariably uniform 
 result. I am aware, indeed, that the very principles of 
 evil existing in human nature in its present state, prevent 
 many from admitting the conclusion to which this in- 
 duction leads, and which is in harmony with the repre- 
 sentations of the sacred volume. I refer to the natural 
 alienation of the heart of man from God, as constituting 
 the essential element of his moral corruption. It has long 
 been my painful conviction, that many of our theories of 
 morals have been sadly vitiated, not merely in the way 
 of defect, but even of radical and mischievous error, by 
 the non-admission, or by the absence of all due considera- 
 tion, of the real character of our nature, as estranged in 
 in its affections from the government of God, and so in a 
 state of moral depravity. I avow it to be one of my 
 principal designs, to call to this subject the attention of 
 my fellow Christians. However unsatisfactory may be 
 my own brief consideration of it, I shall be happy if the 
 principles that may be laid down shall be followed out 
 more at large by some other and abler mind. 
 
 To say more at present, would necessarily be to antici- 
 pate the ground to be occupied in future lectures. The 
 next in order will have for its object, the exposure of cer- 
 tain mistakes in pursuing our inquiries on the subject of 
 morals ; and especially, the attempt to deduce a scheme 
 of virtue from the present character of human nature; 
 and in it, and the one that shall succeed it, the principles 
 laid down will be illustrated by brief comments on vari- 
 ous moral systems. 
 
LECTURE II. 
 
 On mistakes in the method of pursuing our in- 
 quiries ON THE SUBJECT OF MORALS ; AND ESPECIALLY 
 ON THE ATTEMPT TO DEDUCE A SCHEME OF VIRTUE 
 FROM THE PRESENT CHARACTER OF HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 1 Tim. VI. 20. 
 
 " Science falsely so called." 
 
 I shall enter at present into no inquiry what was the 
 particular description of " science," or knowledge, which 
 the Apostle meant to characterize by these words. 
 Whatever it was, — whether the vaunted illumination 
 of Jewish doctors, or the fanciful theories of Gentile 
 philosophers, — all may be justly comprehended under 
 the designation, that proceeds upon false principles, and 
 by necessary consequence, conducts to false conclusions. 
 o7r?ht nC8 * n a ^ sc i enc e whatever, the entire value of it 
 principles, depends upon the adoption of right principles ; 
 and to no one of its departments does the remark more 
 truly or forcibly apply, than to that of morals. Here, 
 right principles are everything. There is nothing, in 
 actions themselves, that can be called moral or immoral, 
 considered abstractedly from the principles of the agent. 
 A moral action is the action of a moral agent ; and the 
 moral character of the action depends on the state of the 
 
RADICAL ERROR OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 41 
 
 agent's mind in the doing of it. An action may he con- 
 templated in its merely physical properties, abstractedly 
 from this altogether ; and, along with its physical prop- 
 erties, the consequences too may be considered to which it 
 gives rise. It is obvious, however, that neither the one 
 nor the other of these constitutes at all its moral goodness 
 or delinquency. As the action of a particular agent, the 
 good or the evil of it must be sought in the mind from 
 which it has proceeded, — in the motive or principle 
 there, by which it has been suggested and influenced ; — 
 the amount of moral good or of moral evil in the action 
 being neither more nor less than the amount of good or 
 evil principle in exercise in the performance of it. 
 
 What is thus true of individual actions, or courses of 
 conduct, may with equal truth be predicated of systems 
 of morality. A system must be right or wrong, according 
 as the principles on which it rests, or into which it ulti- 
 mately resolves itself, are right or wrong. An error in 
 these must affect the whole. All the diverging streams 
 will have the taint of the fountain. The entire super- 
 structure will correspond, in stability or in frailty, to the 
 soundness or the erroneousness of the primary elements 
 which constitute its foundation. And the present being 
 a subject in which theory never can be purely and ab- 
 stractly speculative, but must, to a greater or less degree, 
 in as far as the minds of moral agents are concerned, 
 affect the correctness of their feelings of responsibility, our 
 inquiries into principles are not mere intellecual exercita- 
 tions, with no other result than the gratification of a 
 metaphysical curiosity ; — they have a direct and impor- 
 tant bearing on the characters of accountable beings, and 
 *4 
 
42 
 
 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 consequently on their ultimate and everlasting destinies. 
 Under these impressions, we proceed to our subject. 
 beSeenthe ■^ Ln( * * enter u P on it with the statement of a 
 /*2«L W distinction, which is a sufficiently obvious one 
 and the ride but not on that account the less deserving of at- 
 
 or standard ° 
 
 of virtue. tention, — the distinction between the principle 
 or foundation of moral virtue, and the rule or standard of 
 its requirements. Without at present making any affirm- 
 ation respecting either the one or the other, — without 
 being so unreasonable as thus, at the very outset, to take 
 aught for granted in answer to the questions, What is 
 the principle? and What is the rule? 1 merely state 
 the theoretical distinction. It is one which admits of a 
 very simple and satisfactory illustration from what has 
 place under human governments. A law appears in the 
 statute-book, or the recorded enactments of a particular 
 country, requiring or prohibiting some specified act. 
 This law, then, is the rule, by which, in the matter 
 whereto it relates, the conduct of the inhabitants of the 
 country, and subjects of its government, must of ccurse 
 be regulated. We shall suppose the law a prohibitory 
 one, — simply affixing a definite penalty to a definite 
 deed, — without assigning any reason for the prohibition. 
 But, although no reason appears on the statute-book, it 
 does not follow that no reason existed in the minds of 
 those legislators by whom the enactment was introduced. 
 Here then we have the rule, and the principle of the rule. 
 Whatever it was, by which the original framers of the 
 law were induced to enact it, — that was the principle 
 by which is here meant, the consideration on account or 
 for the sake of which the law was enacted — or that 
 which, in the minds of the enactors, constituted it right ; 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 43 
 
 while the law itself, in its simple terms of prohibition, 
 independently of the reason or principle of it, is the rule 
 of conduct to the subject, In ten thousand cases, the 
 subject may know nothing beyond the rule itself. He 
 finds the law existing ; and, without further inquiry, 
 without troubling himself with any investigation of the 
 principle, — with any attempt to discover the grounds of 
 its original enactment, — he regulates his conduct accord- 
 ingly. In some minds, however, there may preside a 
 more inquisitive disposition. Though living, like other 
 good subjects, in obedience to the law, they may not be 
 satisfied with the mere knowledge of its existence. They 
 may be desirous to trace it to its origin, — to ascertain 
 its reason, — to find a satisfactory reply, not merely to 
 the question, What is the law ? but to the further ques- 
 tion, Why is the law ichat it is ? The answer to the first 
 inquiry determines the rule, — the answer to the second 
 the principle of the rule. The distinction is thus suffi- 
 ciently intelligible, between the simple rule or standard of 
 duty, and the reason why this rule or standard is what it 
 is, and not something different or something opposite. I 
 do not apply this distinction at present; but, having 
 stated it, keep it in reserve for future use. 
 
 To show you, in part at least, my reason for Grand defect 
 
 •'..'* '. •f in the struc- 
 
 enlarging, as I have done, on the hazard arising, tare of most 
 
 ° ° . theories of 
 
 in questions of morals, from the theories of morals; the 
 
 . omission of 
 
 human philosophy, I now come at once to the man^s de- 
 
 pravity. 
 
 point which I have had principally in view, and 
 to which I alluded in the close of the former lecture. It 
 is this, — that in by much the larger proportion of these 
 theories there is an entire, or almost entire, overlooking of 
 
44 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 a fundamental article in the statements of fact and of 
 doctrine contained in divine revelation, relative to the 
 character and condition of man as a subject of God's 
 moral government : — I refer to the innate depravity of 
 human nature. It has long been my conviction, — a 
 conviction which has been progressively confirmed by 
 observation and reflection, — that a large proportion of 
 theological errors, — of heretical departures from evan- 
 gelical truth, — may be traced to mistaken or defective 
 views of this great point. It is reasonable to expect that 
 it should be so. The point is obviously and essentially 
 fundamental ; so that any material error respecting it 
 cannot fail to affect the entire system of a man's opinions 
 on divine subjects ; and especially, in regard to that which 
 it is the grand design of revelation to make known, — the 
 scheme of the Redeemer's mediation. Of that scheme 
 man is the object ; and therefore our views of its nature, 
 provisions, and ends, must of necessity be essentially 
 modified by the conceptions we entertain of his actual 
 character and condition. To these the scheme must of 
 course be adapted ; and an erroneous estimate of the dis- 
 order to be remedied will unavoidably produce a false 
 conception of the remedy provided for it ; — a light im- 
 pression of the nature and extent of the apostacy, a cor- 
 respondingly light impression of the means of restoration ; 
 and a denial of the one a consequent denial of the other. 
 While these things are sufficiently evident as to the bear- 
 ing of our views of human nature on our conceptions of 
 the remedial part of the evangelical system, — the obser- 
 vation is, with equal truth, applicable to the speculations 
 of philosophers on the principles and laws of moral 
 obligation. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 45 
 
 Let me not, however, be misunderstood. I am {jjjjjjj 
 very far from intending to convey the sentiment, JfJ™^" 
 that the fallen and sinful state of human nature d ° es n °t . 
 
 alter ob lga- 
 
 has produced any alteration whatever on the tion - 
 principles of obligation, and the essential elements of 
 virtue. No sentiment could be more preposterous, or more 
 pregnant with mischevious results. Whatever these 
 principles were before man fell, they continued the same 
 after he had fallen ; and they now remain, and must 
 remain forever, unaltered, and unalterable, — like the 
 Divine Being himself, in whose nature we shall find 
 them originating, "without variableness or shadow of 
 turning." The harmony of man's nature with those 
 principles, was what constituted its original rectitude ; 
 and in its contrariety to those principles consists its pres- 
 ent depravity. So far from the principles having under- 
 gone anj T change, it is from their very permanence and 
 immutability that this depravity continues to be ascer- 
 tained and measured. Had there been a change in the 
 standard, we should have had no means of determining 
 the extent of the debasement; — had the weights and 
 scales been altered, how could we have known how far 
 the fallen creature, when "weighed in the balances," was 
 " found wanting 'I " The obligations that lie upon man 
 in his fallen state are the very same with those which 
 lay upon him in his state of pristine innocence. His not 
 fulfilling these obligations is his guilt. A change of 
 character in any subject of the moral government of 
 Deity can never occasion a change in the principles of 
 that government. The law is neither annulled nor altered 
 by the rebellion of the subject. 
 
46 RADICAL ERROR. 
 
 Truebearing But, granting, and more than granting, — 
 
 of the omis- ' o o' o o> 
 
 sio " on mor - most decidedly maintaining all this, as impor- 
 twofeid:— tant and undeniable truth, — a very few obser- 
 vations will suffice to show the connection of the fall and 
 depravity of man with our present inquiry, and to make 
 you sensible how essentially and extensively it must 
 affect all the speculations of the creature who is the sub- 
 ject of it, on every question relating to the principles of 
 moral rectitude, I argue at present hypothetically. I as- 
 sume the fact of man's depravity, — of the natural and 
 inveterate alienation of his heart from God. Now this 
 state of his nature brings with it two distinct sources of 
 error. Man, let it be remembered, is, in our present in- 
 quiry, both the investigator, and, in part at least, the 
 subject of investigation. In each of these views of him, 
 there is a source of error; the first arising from the influ- 
 ence of his depravity on his character as an investigator ; 
 and the second from the disposition to make his own 
 nature, without adverting to its fallen state, his standard 
 of moral principles, and his study in endeavoring to ascer- 
 tain them. 
 
 enc? 'of n de- ^e ^ rst °^ tnese > on tne assumption of de- 
 thechLac P ra vity, must De ver J T apparent. It arises from 
 terofthein- the bi as which the moral state of the heart 
 
 vestigator. 
 
 unavoidably imparts to the operations of the 
 intellect on all such subjects : — a bias, which attaches 
 uncertainty and inconclusiveness to all human inquiries 
 and decisions concerning them. The mental powers of 
 man are injuriously affected, on every point that relates 
 to religion and virtue, by his moral alienation from God, 
 the eternal prototype of all excellence. Tlxey are prone 
 to aberration. His moral perceptions have lost their 
 
OP MORAL SYSTEMS. 4? 
 
 original clearness. A corrupt tendency has been infused 
 into all his speculations and reasonings ; so that, on the 
 topics referred to, his conclusions are not, without great 
 caution, to be depended upon. How preposterous would 
 it be, to commit the decision of an inquiry respecting the 
 true principles of moral rectitude to a creature subject to 
 all the blinding and perverting influences of the principles 
 of moral pravity. Those philosophers, it is true, who 
 deny the fact of human corruption, and hold in lofty dis- 
 dain the abasing doctrine of the fall, are not at all sensi- 
 ble of any such perverting influence operating upon their 
 judgments; and they accordingly pursue their specula- 
 tions with the same freedom, and draw their conclusions, 
 and frame their theories, with the same confident assur- 
 ance, as in other departments of science. But their not 
 suspecting it, their even scornfully disavowing it, cannot 
 be allowed to disprove its reality. It may be one of its 
 very operations. It is in the nature of the principles of 
 depravity, to render the creatures who are the subjects of 
 them insensible of their power. It exposes them to num- 
 berless modes of self-delusion ; and especially in regard to 
 what constitutes the essential element of depravity, — the 
 41 enmity against God," with which the heart of man is 
 charged by his Maker. But, without at present entering 
 on any proof of this point, — proceeding on the hypo- 
 thetical assumption of it, it must be obvious to every re- 
 flecting mind, that, while the degrees in which it oper- 
 ates may be various, yet, on topics such as that which 
 we are now discussing, there can be no certainty in the 
 conclusions to which the subjects of this moral pravity 
 may come ; — no^ ground on which, with any assurance, 
 
48 RADICAL ERROR. 
 
 our minds can repose. It is a cause in which the judge 
 is prepossessed, and his decisions not to be trusted. 
 secondly; on g ut tm %3 [ s not a jj There is, as has been 
 
 the chier * 
 
 source of his mentioned, a second source of error, of no less 
 
 moral esti- 
 mates, illusory influence, arising from the assumption 
 
 by philosophers of human nature in its present state as a 
 legitimate standard from which to take their estimate of 
 moral principles. We find them, with very few excep- 
 tions, trying to discover these principles — the principles 
 of rectitude — from an attentive examination and analysis 
 of this same fallen nature. They take man as he is. 
 They contemplate him as an intellectual and moral 
 agent, of a certain rank and character in the scale of 
 created existence ; as possessing the nature, and holding 
 the place, which the Supreme Will has assigned him, 
 Thus, assuming him, as he now is, to be what his Creator 
 made him and designed him to be, they pursue their in- 
 vestigations, and deduce their conclusions accordingly. 
 They discover in man a variety of principles of action, 
 which, according to their customary phraseology, "the 
 Author of his being has implanted in bis nature ; " and 
 from the existence of these principles they infer the inten- 
 tions and the character of the Being by whom the con- 
 stitution of his nature has been adjusted, and elicit their 
 theories respecting the essential elements of moral recti- 
 tude. Now, this would be a procedure altogether satis- 
 factory, were the creature who is the subject of the ana- 
 lytical process of investigation in the state in which it 
 came from its Creator's hand ; were it according to its 
 appropriate nature, perfect, and so a fair specimen of the 
 moral productions of Deity; — or, as it has been briefly 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 49 
 
 and happily enough expressed " if in man that which is 
 were the same with that which ought to be. v * But if the 
 human nature be indeed in the condition in which revela- 
 tion affirms it to be, — if it be a nature in a state of es- 
 trangement from God, and of moral corruption, it is need- 
 less to say how delusive all this necessarily becomes. 
 How can anything but error and confusion, or, at best, 
 mingled and partial truth, be the result of an attempt to 
 discover the principles of moral rectitude from the consti- 
 tution of a depraved nature ? — to extract a pure system of 
 Ethics from the elements of corruption ? — to found the 
 superstructure of moral science on the scattered and un- 
 stable rubbish of fallen humanity % 
 
 Let me illustrate my meaning by a simple comparison. 
 Suppose a chemist were desirous to ascertain the ingre- 
 dients of water. What estimate should we form of his 
 judgment, if, with this view, he were to subject to his 
 analysis a quantity of what had just passed, in the bed of 
 a sluggish river, through the midst of a large manufac- 
 turing city, from whose common sewers, and other outlets 
 of impurity, it had received every possible contamination 
 which, either by simple admixture or by chemical affinity, 
 had become incorporated with the virgin purity of the 
 fountain ; and if, proceeding on such analysis, he were to 
 publish to the world his thesis on the composition of 
 water ? Little less preposterous must be the conduct of 
 those philosophers, who derive their ideas of what consti- 
 tutes rectitude in morals from human nature as it is. 
 They analyse the water of the polluted river ; and refuse 
 the guide that would conduct them to the mountain 
 spring of its native purity. 
 
 * Dr. Payne. 
 
50 RADICAL ERROR, 
 
 It may perhaps be alleged, that the comparison is not 
 fair ; that these philosophers should rather be likened to 
 the chemist, who, in analysing the water of the river, 
 takes care to separate all such ingredients as are merely 
 adventitious, and so to arrive at the true nature and com- 
 position of (I use the term of course in its popular accep- 
 tation) the pure element. Should this be alleged, I 
 answer, that such a comparison will be found to involve 
 a manifest pelitio principii. The chemist who proceeds 
 thus, must of course, have a previous knowledge of the 
 composition of water; else of the various ingredients, 
 found by him in the portion taken from the river, how 
 could he possibly be aware which were adventitious, and 
 which belonged to its primitive nature ? According to 
 the comparison, therefore, as thus stated, the philosopher, 
 with whom the chemist is compared, must, in like man- 
 ner, be in possession of a previous knowledge of the 
 elementary principles of rectitude ; from which, in his 
 process of moral analysis, he refines away all the foreign 
 and adventitious corruptions which, in the nature of man, 
 have mingled with and debased them : — that is, he must 
 be already in possession of the very knowledge of ivhich 
 he is supposed to be in quest. This will not do. To 
 render the comparison legitimate, we must, in both cases, 
 suppose a state of previous ignorance, and a process of in- 
 vestigation instituted with the view of obtaining correct 
 information. In both, the source from which the infor- 
 mation is sought is fallacious ; and in both, therefore, the 
 conclusions are unavoidably uncertain or wrong. 
 
 Exempiifica- i n the brief remarks which it is my purpose 
 omission in to offer on some of the principal theories of 
 
 question.) . 4 
 
 morals, the influence of the source of error I 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 51 
 
 have now adverted to may be made sufficiently apparent ; 
 yet it may not be amiss to present you with an exemplifi- 
 cation or two of what I mean when I speak of philoso- 
 phers taking human nature, according to its present 
 phenomena, as a standard of their moral estimates, in 
 their speculations on the principles of rectitude. I give 
 the following, not according to any principle of selection, 
 but as the first that have recently presented themselves, 
 and only as a specimen of much to the same purpose, to 
 be found in almost all the writers on moral science. 
 Others will occur in our comments on different systems, 
 which, to avoid repetition, I do not introduce here. 
 
 The writer of the article Moral Philosophy, in the 
 Encyclopedia Britannica, gives the following statement 
 of the specific nature of the science ; and I quote it, 
 because it presents a clear view of the fallacious principle 
 of which I have been speaking : " Moral philosophy has 
 this in common with natural philosophy, that it appeals 
 to nature, or to fact ; depends on observation ; and builds 
 its reasonings on plain, uncontroverted experiments, or 
 upon the fullest induction of particulars of which the 
 subject will admit. We must observe, in both these 
 sciences, how nature is affected, and what her conduct is 
 in such and such circumstances ; or, in other words, we 
 must collect the appearances of nature in any given in- 
 stance, trace them to some given principles or terms of 
 operation, and then apply these principles or laws to the 
 explaining of other phenomena. Therefore, moral phi- 
 losophy inquires, not how man might have been, but how 
 he is, constituted; not into what principles and dispo- 
 sitions his actions may be artfully resolved, but from what 
 principles and dispositions they actually flow ; not what 
 he may, by education, habit, or foreign influence, come to 
 
52 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 be, or to do, but what by his nature, or original constituent 
 principles, he is formed to be and to do. We discover the 
 office, use, or distinction, of any work, whether natural 
 or artificial, by observing- its structure, the parts of which 
 it consists, their connection, or joint action. It is thus we 
 understand the office and use of a watch, a plant, an eye, 
 or a hand. It is the same with a living creature of the 
 rational or brute kind. Therefore, to determine the office, 
 duty, or distinction of man ; or, in other words, what his 
 business is, or what conduct he is obliged to pursue, we 
 must inspect his constitution, take every part to pieces, 
 examine their mutual relations one to the other, and the 
 common effect or tendency of the whole." 
 
 According to this statement, we are to pursue our in- 
 vestigations in morals, as we do our researches in physics ; 
 regarding the present moral constitution of man, indicated 
 by its various phenomena, as being, in all respects, the 
 work of Deity, as really as the structure of his corporeal 
 frame, or that of any creature, animate or inanimate, in 
 the physical world ; so that, from the observation of man 
 as he is, we are to learn the moral character of Deity, 
 and the principles of rectitude as existing in his nature 
 and approved under his government, in the same way in 
 which wc discover his intelligence and wisdom from the 
 marks of skill in the material universe. This, of course, 
 proceeds on the assumption, that man, as he now is, is 
 what he was originally made, and was designed by his 
 Maker to continue to be. This writer says, and says 
 truly, when speaking of the differences of opinion sub- 
 sisting with regard to the criterion or test of virtue, and 
 the principle or motive of it ; " One cause of this differ- 
 ence respecting matters of such universal importance, 
 may, perhaps, be traced to the mistakes into which philos- 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 53 
 
 ophers are apt to fall concerning the original state of 
 man." In saying this, he refers to the opinion held by 
 some, (an opinion as contrary to reason as to Scripture, 
 and falling into merited disrepute,) that the original state 
 of man was a state of ignorant savagism. But, what- 
 ever differences of opinion may have arisen from this cause, 
 the differences have been both greater and more numerous, 
 which have been occasioned by the overlooking of " the 
 original state of man" in a higher sense, when he sus- 
 tained the moral image of his Creator, — light of light, 
 — the holy creature of a holy God ; and of the degen- 
 eracy of his nature, as it now presents itself in his state 
 of apostasy. 
 
 The late Dugald Stewart quotes, with high approba- 
 tion, the following sentiment of Melancthon, where, to 
 use the language of the philosopher, that reformer " com? 
 bats the pernicious and impious tenets of those theologi- 
 ans who maintained, that moral distinctions are created 
 entirely by the arbitrary revealed will of God;" — 
 "Wherefore, our decision is this: that those precepts 
 which learned men have committed to writing, transcrib- 
 ing them from the common sense and eommon feelings of 
 human nature, are to be accounted as not less divine 
 than those contained in the tables given to Moses ; and 
 that it could not be the intention of cur Maker to super- 
 sede, by a law graven on a stone, that which is graven 
 with his own finger on the table of the heart." — " This 
 language," says the commentator, " was, undoubtedly, an 
 important step towards a just system of moral philosophy. 
 But still, like the other steps- of the reformers, it was only 
 a return to common sense, and to the genuine spirit of 
 Christianity, from the dogmas imposed on the credulity 
 of mankind by an ambitious priesthood. Many years 
 *5 
 
54 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 were yet to elapse, before any attempts were to be made 
 to trace, with analytical accuracy, the moral phenomena 
 of human nature to their first principles in the constitu- 
 tion and condition of man; or even to disentangle the 
 plain and practical lessons of Ethics, from the spec- 
 ulative and controverted articles of theological sys- 
 tems." * 
 
 Assuming the fairness of the citation from Melanc- 
 thon, the sentiment expressed in it seems to me to involve 
 an unaccountable oversight, — and, in some degree at 
 least, a falling in with the grand error of philosophical 
 writers on Ethics. In allowing equal authority to the 
 deductions of "learned men," from "the common sense 
 and common feelings of human nature," with that ascrib- 
 ed to the ten commandments, the moral law as given by 
 Moses, the good reformer had surely forgotten the de- 
 pravity of that nature, the dictates of whose " common 
 sense and common feelings" are thus identified, in cer- 
 tainty and obligation, with the direct announcements of 
 the will of Deity ; and had forgotten also the bias pro- 
 duced by this depravity in the minds of those very 
 " learned men," by whom the deductions are drawn, and 
 the theories framed. Granting, to no small extent, the 
 correctness and authority of the dictates of conscience ; 
 still, as the conscience of a fallen creature, it is liable to 
 be warped and deflected from rectitude in its decisions, 
 and must not, therefore, have absolutely implicit reliance. 
 So far from its being the design of Jehovah to " supersede 
 by a law graven on stones that which is graven with his 
 own finger on the table of the heart ; " it is obvious that, 
 had the law continued "written on the heart," in the 
 
 * Prelim. Diss, to Suppl. to Encycl. Brit. pp. 30 > 31, 
 
OP MORAL SYSTEMS, 55 
 
 same sense, and to the same extent, as at first, there 
 would never have been any occasion for the proclamation 
 of it from Sinai, and the graving of it, for permanent ap- 
 peal, on the tables of stone. We may have occasion to 
 resort to this topic somewhat more at large, when, in a 
 future Lecture, we shall have to speak of the Apostle 
 Paul's representation of the condition of the heathen. 
 
 Meantime we observe, that when Mr. Stewart speaks 
 of the language of Melanchthon as "an important step 
 towards a just system of moral philosophy," and of 
 " tracing with analytical accuracy the moral phenomena 
 of human nature to their first principles, in the constitu- 
 tion and condition of man," he proceeds on the common 
 assumption, that the "constitution and condition of 
 man," — -that is, of man as he now is, — afford a just 
 criterion, and the only one accessible by us, of right and 
 wrong; and that the "first principles of the moral phe- 
 nomena of human life" are there to be sought, with the 
 view of thence ascertaining a correct system of morals. 
 
 To a certain extent, I have admitted, there is truth in 
 the representations thus made by philosophers. Reason 
 and conscience are not obliterated, but do certainly con- 
 tinue to bear testimony for God. What we plead for is, 
 that in a depraved nature, subject to all the manifold 
 biases of corruption, they cannot be trusted to as affording 
 any certain standard either of truth or duty, — any in- 
 fallible indication of the mind and will of Deity. The 
 creature that has lost the moral image of God, cannot, in 
 his moral constitution, present a fair exhibition either of 
 what God is, or of what God wills, or afford any eorrect 
 index to the principles of moral rectitude. Were the phi- 
 losophers who write thus making any reference to the 
 present state of our nature as being different from what it 
 
56 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 was originally, we should then understand their meaning 
 with the qualifications whieh the recognition of such dif- 
 ference implies. But their appeals to the constitution of 
 our nature for the principles of morals, are not only 
 unaccompanied with any such admission, but contain 
 either the implication, or the express avowal, of the con- 
 trary. 
 
 It is of human nature in its present state, and accord- 
 ing to its present phenomena, that the late Dr. Brown (of 
 whose theory of morals more particular notice will be 
 taken hereafter) shortly but emphatically says, when 
 speaking of the universal accordance of the moral senti- 
 ment among mankind : — " Since the world was created, 
 there have indeed been myriads of human beings on the 
 earth ; but there has been only one God, and there is only 
 one God. There is therefore only one great voice of 
 moral pprobation among mankind; because He, the 
 great Approver, and the great Former of our moral con- 
 stitution, is oner * — This is, in few words, the essence 
 of the vitiating error of so many philosophical systems : 
 that our present " moral constitution," — our moral con- 
 stitution as we now find it, — was "formed" by Him who 
 is " the great Approver " of virtue, — and so indicate his 
 character, and is a standard of the principles which he 
 approves. — I refrain from saying more, till we come to 
 the brief consideration of Dr. Brown's theory. 
 
 Several other references I had marked, more and less 
 explicit ; but I think it unnecessary to multiply quota- 
 tions in support of what will hardly be questioned, and 
 what, moreover, will more fully appear immediately, — 
 The subject is deeply interesting; and the illustration of 
 
 *Lect. LXXXI. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS, 57 
 
 it might be pursued to an indefinite extent. What I have 
 now to offer is crude and imperfect ; and I wish it to be 
 regarded rather as hints which may be amplified by oth- 
 ers, than as anything approaching to a full discussion. — ■ 
 I am well aware, how exceedingly unpalatable the prin- 
 ciple is, on which I am now proceeding ; and with what 
 indignation philosophers would frown it down, as not 
 merely involving what will by them be regarded as a 
 slander upon the object of their almost idolatrous venera- 
 tion, human nature, but as laying an arbitrary interdict 
 on the freedom of speculation, and wrapping in uncer- 
 tainty all the results, on such subjects, of philosophical 
 research. — I cannot help it. The question is not what 
 is palatable, but what is true. And the offence itself 
 which is taken by a jealous and sensitive pride, at the 
 very suggestion of any existing incompetency from a 
 cause so humbling, only furnishes an additional evidence 
 that the cause exists. 
 
 In the cursory observations which I am about Application 
 to make on some of the principal theories of tfontotS" 
 morals, my chief object is, to show the bearing 0U3theones ' 
 upon each of them of the great general objection which 
 I have now been introducing to your notice. An occa- 
 sional remark on their respective merits in other points of 
 view, may at the same time be tolerated, to prevent repe- 
 tition afterwards. — I intend no more than a mere glance 
 at the several theories; with the exception of one; into 
 which, as the system of a philosophical Divine of the 
 very highest and most merited eminence, I may enter a 
 little more at large. 
 
 When the Aristotelian philosophy de- i. The Aris- 
 scribed virtue as consisting in the mean be- peripatetic 
 tween two extremes ; I need hardly say, it laid systeiTU 
 
5S RADICAL ERROR 
 
 down a position singularly vague, — a position which, in 
 terms of apparent definiteness, actually defined nothing. 
 It was, indeed, susceptible of some useful application to 
 particular departments of conduct, in which we are ac- 
 customed still to admonish against extremes. But even 
 in such cases, it is destitute of all precision: and in many 
 others it is incapable of being applied, without the hazard 
 of introducing a mischievous laxity of moral principle ; 
 since there are not a few of the virtues, respecting which 
 the very attempt to fix a medium between them and their 
 opposite vices would be an approach at least to self-con- 
 tradiction, — there being, in such cases, not a mere differ- 
 ence of degrees, but a distinction and opposition of prin- 
 ciples. The drawing of a middle line would then be 
 attended with consequences the most pernicious ; because 
 it would only be such an approximating of virtue to vice 
 and of vice to virtue, as, instead of precisely defining either, 
 would only serve to confound both. Thus the definition 
 is more indefinite than the thing to be defined ; in some 
 cases having no application at all, and even in those to 
 which it can be applied, ascertaining nothing.* 
 
 * Sir James Mackintosh places the Peripatetic definition of virtue 
 in the fairest and most favorable light — but still not in a light 
 which at all alleviates the obvious difficulties referred to in the text, 
 when he says, " The celebrated doctrine of the Peripatetics, which 
 placed all virtues in a medium between opposite vices, was probably 
 suggested by the Platonic representation of its necessity to keep up 
 harmony between the different parts of our nature. The perfection 
 of a compound machine is attained, where all its parts have the 
 fullest scope for action. Where one is so far exerted as to repress 
 others, there is a vice of excess. When any one has less activity 
 than it might exert without distm-bing others, there is a vice of de- 
 fect. The point which all reach without collision against each 
 other, is the mediocrity in which the Peripatetics placed virtue." — 
 Prelim. Diss, to Suppl. to JEncycl. Brit. Sect. II. 
 
t)£ MORAL SYSTEMS. 59 
 
 Even on the supposition, moreover, that the terms con- 
 veyed a principle in itself correct, and capable of univer- 
 sal application, the inquiry still remains — What are the 
 extremes on either hand ? It being sufficiently obvious, 
 that, unless these can be previously fixed, there is no pos- 
 sibility of determining the medium between them ; no 
 more than there is of drawing a central line between two 
 geometrical parallels, without having first drawn these 
 parallels themselves. There remains, besides, another in- 
 quiry, more immediately connected with our present sub- 
 ject, and affecting the principle of the case. Supposing 
 the extremes defined, even with the utmost precision, and 
 the middle line consequently traced out and marked, why 
 are these to be regarded as extremes ? and why is the 
 middle line the line of rectitude] On what account is it, 
 that the line on the one side and on the other is wrong, 
 and the line in the middle alone right ? Without some 
 pertinent answer to such questions, there is no principle 
 ascertained ; for it is obvious, that, # we would keep the 
 theory distinct from others, we must not introduce, for the 
 fixing of the middle, anything of the nature of moral 
 sense, ox intuitive intellection, or approving emotion* 
 which would at once render the definition of virtue un : 
 meaning, and confound it with the principles of theories 
 essentially different. 
 
 But, — to come to the precise point which it is my 
 present object more especially to impress, — not only does 
 the difficulty meet us, of fixing the extreme and middle 
 lines, and the further difficulty of determining why the 
 middle line is right and the extremes wrong ; — we have 
 further to ask, What is the character of that nature, to 
 
 * The t rinciples, respectively, of the theories of Hutcheson, Cud- 
 worth, and Brown. 
 
60 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 which is Committed the province of determining all these 
 perplexing points, — of ascertaining and marking off ex- 
 tremes and middle lines, and settling legitimate princi- 
 ples ? Assuming, as we now do, the Bible account of 
 that nature, we regard it as a nature of which the ele- 
 ments are unhappily jumbled and confounded ; which is 
 "turned upside down," governors and subjects having 
 changed places, the appetites and passions having usurp- 
 ed the sovereignty, and brought the intellect under their 
 restless domination ; in which that is undermost which 
 ought to be uppermost. Even on the supposition, there- 
 fore, that the theory were in the correctest harmony with 
 abstract truth, how is a nature of which this is the char- 
 acter, — which, in its judgments on all such matters, is 
 subject to so large a number and so endless a variety of 
 perverting influences, — which is itself averse to the sup- 
 posed middle line of rectitude, and fond of the extremes 
 on either hand of it, — how is such a nature, or the crea- 
 ture that inherits it «to adjust points of so much delicacy, 
 as the precise limits at which these various bounding and 
 intermediate lines are to be drawn ? Itself in a state of 
 actual aberration from the right line, and without any 
 sincere desire to find or to keep it, how are we to trust to 
 its decisions and its guidance 1 How are we, with any 
 confidence whatever, to shape our course, in the voyage of 
 life, by any chart which it can lay down ? How prepos- 
 terous the idea of leaving to a nature of which the char- 
 acter is summed up in " enmity against God," the delicate 
 office of settling those extremes, between which, in the 
 precise middle line, also requiring to be drawn with pre- 
 cision, lies the true path of moral rectitude ! 
 •2. Ttie stoi- According to the Stoical system, — the sys- 
 or system* of tem of the school of Zeno, — virtue, or moral 
 Zen0 ' rectitude, consisted in living according to na- 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 61 
 
 ture. But of this definition, the terms were by some un- 
 derstood in a more enlarged, and by others in a more lim- 
 ited acceptation ; the former interpreting them as mean- 
 ing according to the nature of things in general, while 
 the latter restricted them to the nature of man. The 
 general doctrine was, that conformity to nature is the first 
 object of pursuit ; that every one who has a right discern- 
 ment of what is good will be chiefly concerned to conform 
 to nature in all his actions and pursuits ; and this they 
 regarded as the origin of moral obligation. From the pe- 
 culiar metaphysical notions of the sect of Zeno, respecting 
 the existence of only one substance in the universe, partly 
 active and partly passive, and from their giving to the 
 former the appellation of Deity, their theory of living ac- 
 cording to nature has been identified by some moderns 
 with the system of those who resolve virtue into con- 
 formity to the will of God ; and Warburton, indeed, has 
 compared the three principal schools of antiquity, the 
 followers of Plato, of Aristotle, and of Zeno, respectively, 
 to the patrons in more modern times, of the moral sense, 
 of the essential differences, and of arbitrary will. Yet, 
 in the leading principle of the doctrine of the Stoics, 
 that virtue consists in " living according to nature," there 
 appears to be quite as great analogy to the second of 
 these three schemes, that of essential differences, or eter- 
 nal fitnesses, as there is to the last. 
 
 But at all events, in ascertaining what is meant by 
 conformity to nature, it is obvious that the character and 
 constitution of the nature of man must be especially re- 
 garded, as among the indications either of the divine will, 
 or of what is essentially fit. Now, in the system which 
 contains the definition, it is surely needless to say, the 
 doctrine of man's innate depravity, as a creature fallen 
 6 
 
62 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 from the state in which he was created* had no place. 
 The assumption, on the contrary, was, that human na- 
 ture is now in the state in which it was originally, and 
 in which the gods, or the active principle of the universe, 
 or an unmeaning Destiny, designed and appointed it to 
 be. If we are to take the definition, then, in this view 
 of it, — as signifying conformity to nature in the present 
 constitution of man, — we may well sigh over the result. 
 Alas ! for virtue. If man be a fallen and depraved be- 
 ing, a being from whose heart the very first principle and 
 most essential element of all true goodness is wanting, — 
 I mean the love of God, — - then what are we to make of 
 living according to nature, as a definition of moral recti- 
 tude? Instead of a definition of virtue, it becomes a 
 definition of vice. The nature being itself evil, to live 
 according to it, (even with all the restraining and correc- 
 tive power of a conscience, which remains indeed, but 
 which participates in the corruption,) cannot be good. 
 To live according to nature, if nature is understood of the 
 fallen nature of man, is, in truth, to live most unnatural- 
 ly ; what we are accustomed to call the natural state of 
 man being the most unnatural in which it is possible for 
 an intelligent creature to be : unnatural, that is, accord- 
 ing to every conception the mind can form to itself of 
 the natural fitnesses of things, especially in regard to the 
 relation of the creature to the Creator. 
 
 The definition would have suited man well, when he 
 came, all upright and pure, from his Maker's hand, — a 
 specimen of his moral excellence, as well as of his power 
 and his wisdom, — a scintillation of the light of the God- 
 head. But if, I repeat, human nature be what the Scrip- 
 tures represent it to be, — a representation in harmony 
 with universal fact, — then, what kind of definition is it 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 63 
 
 of virtue, that it consists in living according to a nature 
 which, in its radical principles and innate tendencies, is 
 in a state of opposition to virtue ; to virtue in its essential 
 elementary principle — the love of God % 
 
 We may have occasion to revert to the leading features 
 of this system, when we come to consider that of Bishop 
 Butler ; which is essentially the doctrine of the school of 
 Zeno, modified by the knowledge of divine revelation,a n d 
 professedly argued on Christian principles. 
 
 If, in the Stoical definition, nature be understood more, 
 generally ; it will then be found to express a standard of 
 rectitude, which, while it may be nearer than the other to 
 truth, is yet greatly more recondite and remote from ap- 
 prehension. When so understood, however, it corresponds 
 so very nearly with another system, which shall be no- 
 ticed by and by, that I need not now insist upon it ; I 
 mean that which resolves virtue into an agreement with 
 the eternal fitnesses of things ; the system of Cudworth, 
 Clarke, and Price. 
 
 I shall pass over, as undeserving of a moment's notice, 
 the theory of Aristippus, Democritus, and others of 
 the Cyrenian and Atomical schools. It corresponds 
 very much to the Hobbism of more modern times; re- 
 garding virtue and vice as mere arbitrary distinctions, 
 depending on the will of the magistrate and the authority 
 of human enactments; so that, according as these vary, 
 what is virtue in one country may be vice in another, and 
 what is vice to-day may be virtue to-morrow. 
 
 Of the system of Epicurus very different 3. Epicurean 
 representations have been given, according as sys em " 
 it has been viev/ed in its original statements, or as it was 
 subsequently corrupted into a scheme of mere animal 
 
64 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 pleasure and unrestrained sensuality.* We shall take it 
 in its " best estate." According to it, then, we are to re- 
 gard happiness as the great end of our being ; and this 
 happiness consists in living as free as possible from the 
 evils incident to life, and in the enjoyment of as large a 
 measure as possible of its goods. The only things to be 
 regarded, as in themselves good or evil, are pleasure and 
 pain ; and of all else that is called good or evil, these, 
 
 * President Edwards speaks of Epicurus as " that father of athe- 
 ism and licentiousness," and of his followers, as " the very worst of 
 the heathen philosophers." — Inquiry into the Freedom of the 
 Will," Part IV. Sect. 6. This is sufficiently severe. " The moral 
 character of Epicurus," says Sir James Mackintosh, " was excellent: 
 no man more enjoyed the pleasures, or better performed the duties of 
 friendship. The letter of his system was no more indulgent to vice 
 than that of any other moralist. ' All the other virtues,' said Epi- 
 curus, 'grow from prudence; which teaches that we cannot live 
 pleasurably without living justly and virtuously, nor live justly and 
 virtuously without living pleasurably.' The illustration of this sen- 
 tence formed the whole moral discipline of Epicurus." — Prelim. 
 Diss. Sect. 2. Perhaps these two seemingly opposite estimates 
 both of the philosopher and his system, may be brought towards 
 harmony by what Sir James says further: "Although, therefore, 
 Epicurus having more strongly inculcated the connection of virtue 
 with happiness, perhaps by the faulty excess of treating it as an ex- 
 clusive principle; yet his doctrine was justly charged with indispos- 
 ing the mind to those exalted and generous sentiments, without 
 which no pure, elevated, bold, generous, or tender virtues can 
 exist." — Ibid. In support of this representation, he refers to 
 Cicero, — "Nil generosum, nil magniflcum sapit." Assuredly a 
 system justly chargeable with such defects, which was incompatible 
 with the existence, in the character formed by it, of purity, eleva- 
 tion, magnanimity, generosity, and tenderness, might justify terms 
 of no very qualified censure. And when to this statement is super- 
 added its virtual atheism, we shall not wonder at any amount of evil 
 resulting from it. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 65 
 
 therefore, are constituted the legitimate measures : — in re- 
 gard to all objects of desire or of aversion, the sole reason 
 why the one is pursued and the other avoided, being, that 
 the one is fitted to procure pleasure, the other to occasion 
 pain ; and the degree of the anticipated pleasure or pain 
 regulating the degree of the eagerness with which the 
 one is sought, and of the solicitude with which the other 
 is shunned. 
 
 The great principle of the system, as a system of 
 Ethics, delivered by the philosopher himself, and taken in 
 its most favorable light, was, " That a steady course of 
 virtue produces the greatest quantum of pleasure and 
 happiness of which human nature is capable." Pru- 
 dence, temperance, sobriety, fortitude, gentleness, justice, 
 all contribute, in their respective kinds, to make up this 
 quantum of happiness ; and their tendency to its produc- 
 tion is what constitutes them virtuous, and determines 
 their title to moral approbation. The system acknowl- 
 edged nothing of the honestum, of which the rectitude, 
 and the approbation of it in our minds, were independent 
 of its consequences to ourselves, whether painful or 
 pleasant.* 
 
 It is not difficult to perceive, how liable this system 
 was to perversion and abuse, by the affixing of a sensual 
 acceptation to those terms which were used in it to express 
 the idea of happiness. And we shall wonder the less 
 that such abuse should have taken place, when it is con- 
 sidered how very limited and inadequate was the import 
 of those terms, even as employed by its founder. 
 
 * J* Honestum, igitur, id intelligimus, quod tale est, ut, detracts 
 omni, sine ullis proemiis fructibusve, per se ipsum jure laudari." — 
 Cicero. 
 
 *6 
 
66 
 
 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 The system of Epicurus, moreover, was a modification 
 of atheism. Everything of the nature of providence, or 
 the superintendence of Deity over human affairs, being 
 denied, there was, of course, no higher principle brought 
 into exercise, than a mere consideration of present results. 
 Happiness meant merely the enjoyment of present pleas- 
 ure, and the absence of present pain; and, instead of 
 comprehending, in the estimate of it, the whole of our 
 immortal being, it was confined to the brief period of 
 man's earthly life. — It was thus, in fact, the system of 
 utility, as the standard of virtue, in its lowest grade. 
 
 According to this system, — (and the observation ap- 
 plies, in a greater or less degree, to every system that 
 founds morals in utility) — there is nothing in virtue that 
 renders it virtue, beyond its experienced conduciveness to 
 human enjoyment. Instead of virtue being something 
 independently and in its own nature good, from which 
 effects result in correspondence with its nature, its good- 
 ness is sought exclusively in the effects themselves; 
 these alone being what constitutes any action virtuous, or 
 the contrary: — so that we are furnished by it with the 
 anomalous and circular statement, that "a steady course 
 of virtue produces the greatest quantum of happiness," 
 as if the virtue were something in itself good, indepen- 
 dently of the happiness produced by it ; while yet, in the 
 theory, its conduciveness to the production of happiness 
 is that which alone constitutes it virtue ; happiness be- 
 ing the sole end, and there being nothing previous, or 
 superior, from which the nature of virtue originates. 
 
 All systems by which virtue is founded in utility, even 
 when the term is taken in its most comprehensive accept- 
 ation, are liable to the grand objection we are now espe- 
 cially considering, — namely, that, although the princi- 
 
Otf MORAL SYSTEMS. 67 
 
 pie of them were ever so correct, it is a principle of which 
 a fallen nature is utterly incompetent to make the appli- 
 cation. We might go further, and say, that the task of 
 determining the useful, in its legitimate extent of mean- 5 
 ing, is beyond the limited powers of any creature. — But 
 at present, instead of insisting upon this, (as it will more 
 than once come before us hereafter,) I would rather hold 
 up the Epicurean system, even in its most undebased 
 form, as a sad exemplification of the tendency of human 
 nature to a low and unworthy estimate of that happiness 
 which the system regards as the end and the standard of 
 moral rectitude ; — and as thus affording a practical con- 
 firmation of the validity of the objection. 
 
 For a just decision in a case of such momentous in- 
 terest, how are we to trust to a nature, which, in this 
 instance, bounds its ideas of the happiness of a creature 
 like man by what contributes to the pleasure of his little 
 span of life on earth ; and which, moreover, by excluding 
 Deity from the government of the world, at once sets 
 aside the first and highest of the elementary principles 
 of goodness in the heart of the creature, a due regard to 
 God, — and the greatest by infinite degrees, of the ends 
 which utility ought ever to be considered as embracing, 
 — the glory of the infinite Creator ! I do not now, there- 
 fore, contend against this system, on the ground that 
 utility cannot be the foundation of virtue, but rather as 
 affording proof that human nature cannot be the judge 
 of utility. We see in it one of the results (and it does 
 not stand alone) of leaving the decision of such a point 
 with such a judge. Even were utility admitted to be the 
 foundation and standard of virtue, still what is included 
 in utility must be determined by a different authority, — 
 by a mind, not only free of all the biasing influences of 
 
68 
 
 RADICAL ERROR, 
 
 &C. 
 
 moral corruption, but above all the necessary limitations 
 of created being, and capable of comprehending both 
 the vastness of the universe and the infinitude of the 
 Godhead. 
 
 We shall pursue the application of the same principle 
 to other systems, in our next Lecture. 
 
LECTURE III. 
 
 THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. 
 
 1 Tim. VI. 20. 
 
 " Science falsely so called." 
 
 The same general principle of objection, which, in the 
 close of last Lecture, was applied to the moral systems of 
 the Aristotelian, the Stoical, and the Epicurean schools, 
 — that, namely, derived from the present fallen state of 
 human nature, as both rendering that nature a deceitful 
 standard of moral goodness, and the possessor of it a 
 corrupt and prejudiced judge, — we now proceed to consid- 
 er in its application to certain other systems of more mod- 
 ern origin, though some of them bearing resemblance, in 
 their leading principles, to one or other of the systems of 
 antiquity. 
 
 I begin with the system which resolves virtue c'udwh ° f 
 into agreement with the eternal fitnesses p^ a c r e ke ' and 
 of things. — To enter at large into illustration 
 of the principles of this system, as introduced by Cud- 
 worth, and ably taken up and defended by Clarke and 
 Price, would be foreign to my present purpose. It is 
 only necessary to state them so far as to make the bear- 
 ing of my general objection manifest. According to it, 
 then, the right and wrong of actions are to be regarded as 
 
70 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 ranking amongst necessary or first truths, which are 
 discerned by the mind, independently of all reasoning or 
 evidence; so that the perception of right or wrong, along 
 with the consequent sentiment of approbation or disappro- 
 bation, is as unavoidable as the perception of the truth or 
 falsehood of self-evident propositions, — propositions which 
 are never obscured more than by attempts to prove them, 
 and which we believe, simply because we cannot but 
 believe them. The system maintains an absolute and 
 eternal distinction between right and wrong, — a dis- 
 tinction which the mind intuitively discerns ; the right 
 consisting in correspondence, and the wrong in contrarie- 
 ty, to the eternal fitnesses of things.* 
 
 I am far from intending to deny that this phraseology, 
 about fitnesses, and eternal fitnesses, has any meaning. 
 I believe it to have a meaning, and an important mean- 
 ing too. I have no hesitation in admitting, that there do 
 exist such fitnesses as the definition assumes, and that 
 virtue may with propriety be regarded as consisting in 
 conformity with these fitnesses: whence this is to be 
 considered as arising, we may hereafter see. Suppose, 
 then, we grant that the moral fitness of the action of an 
 intelligent agent lies in its congruity with the true nature, 
 circumstances, and relations of things ; a general idea 
 may be given of this congruity, and consequently of the 
 moral fitness of which it is the assumed standard, from 
 that relation which is obviously the first and highest of 
 all that are possible — the relation, namely, in which such 
 a creature stands to the Author of his existence. There 
 cannot surely be any hesitation in assenting to the prop- 
 osition, that in moral science, the unfitness of profanity in 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note D. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 71 
 
 the speech or conduct, or of irreverence or hatred in the 
 mind of such a creature towards Deity, is as real and as 
 palpable as, in the science of physics, would be the unfit- 
 ness of a cube to fill up a spherical case.* However 
 inconsistent with this maxim may be the behavior of 
 mankind in general, — behavior indicative of that es- 
 trangement of affection from God which is the essence 
 of their depravity, -— yet we cannot imagine a man in 
 the possession of a sound mind, and understanding 
 the terms of the proposition, who will withhold from 
 it the assent of his judgment. If hesitation ever ap- 
 pears in avowing such assent, it must be the hesitation 
 which a man naturally feels who is reluctant to condemn 
 himself. Who ever met with a profane man, who would, 
 on principle, vindicate his blasphemies ? 
 
 But although a few such general maxims, — such 
 great fundamental principles, — may be admitted to be, 
 with all propriety, classed among first truths, and held as 
 correct exemplifications of the fitness of things ; — yet 
 even of a sinless creature, if we suppose him left entirely 
 to his own unassisted conceptions, how very limited must 
 be the comprehension of what may be embraced in such 
 a phrase ! It is a phrase easily uttered, and it expresses 
 what has not merely theoretical but real existence ; but 
 it is a phrase of vast amount of meaning, comprehending 
 views so enlarged and complicated, as to be utterly be- 
 yond the grasp and the distinct apprehension of a finite 
 intellect. The line of created wisdom is too short to 
 sound their depths. There is one line alone that can 
 reach, — one intellect alone that can search them. 
 They are views, which can be embraced in all their am- 
 
 * Notes and' Illustrations. Note. E. 
 
72 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 plitude, — fathomed in all their profoundness, — traced 
 out in all their ramifications, only by that Mind, which 
 planned and framed the universe, and by which all its 
 endless relations were originally 'adjusted, — the relations 
 of creatures to fellow creatures, and of all creatures to 
 himself; this last being necessarily the first in order, the 
 highest in obligation, and the foundation of all the rest. 
 
 Here, then, comes in, in all its force of application, our 
 master difficulty. If such things are true of a finite na- 
 ture, even though sinless, — how is a nature that is not 
 only thus limited, but in which the propor order of things 
 has been disturbed and inverted, — in which, especially, 
 the claims of the first and most sacred of all relations 
 have lost their hold, and are disregarded and trampled 
 under foot, — how is such a nature, with any semblance 
 of reason, to be constituted judge of the universal and 
 eternal moral fitnesses of things? It should not be for- 
 gotten, that the learned framers of the system now under 
 our notice, had the benefit, in putting it together, of the 
 light of revelation. Hence the superiority of, their illus- 
 trations and defences of its principles to anything of a 
 similar character broached among the philosophers of 
 antiquity. But, even as maintained by these Christian 
 philosophers, the system does not contain that distinct 
 and full recognition of the real state of human nature, 
 for which I am at present pleading, as essential to a cor- 
 rect judgment on all such subjects. 
 
 It is surely very manifest, that unless there be a just 
 apprehension of the true character and condition of man, 
 there cannot fail to be a corresponding misconception 
 and error in the estimate of those fitnesses, in conformity 
 to which virtue, or moral rectitude, is supposed to consist. 
 If the human nature, as it now is, is conceived to be in 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 73 
 
 its pristine and proper state, even as the Sovereign Creator 
 made and meant it to be, and if the estimate of those 
 fitnesses is made out on this mistaken hypothesis; it is 
 not difficult to perceive, how materially the true relation 
 of man to God, and of God to man, may be misunder- 
 stood, and what an amount of error may, by such misun- 
 derstanding, be introduced into the conclusions of which 
 it becomes the ground. In order to a right estimate of 
 fitnesses, there must of necessity be a right conception of 
 the relations between which they subsist. I have for- 
 merly admitted, that the fall and subsequent sinfulness of 
 man have made no change on his original moral obliga- 
 tions ; but of these obligations themselves our ideas can- 
 not -but be materially affected by ignorance of his true 
 condition, and of the difference between what his nature 
 was at first, and what it has now become. For, if it be 
 from our conception of the fitnesses involved in the relation 
 reciprocally subsisting between man and God, that our 
 estimate of these obligations is formed ; — then, if the 
 conception of those fitnesses proceeds upon a view of this 
 relation as it now exists, which is either entirely, or to 
 any considerable degree, erroneous, who does not perceive 
 to what confusion, to what total misapprehension, or at 
 least to what incongruous blending of truth and false- 
 hood, this must necessarily lead ? Here r then, we have 
 the double source of error formerly adverted to, — the 
 incompetency of the judge, and the incorrectness of the 
 standard.* 
 
 * I have taken no notice in the text of the system of Wollaston, 
 according to which virtue consists in conformity to truth, or to the 
 truth of things ; — partly because it was not my purpose to intro- 
 duce all the different theories which philosophers have broached, 
 7 
 
74 .RADICAL ERROR 
 
 i)r. S Adam 0f Under the same condemnation, in a heavier 
 Smith. measure, must be laid the " Theory of Morai, 
 
 Sentiments," by the justly celebrated Adam Smith. 
 
 The work in which this theory is unfolded has been 
 eulogized as, "in its minor details and illustrations, pre* 
 
 and partly because it bears so close a correspondence to that of 
 Cudworth ; the fitness of things and the truth of things, convey- 
 ing ideas, as far as we can understand the phrases, so analogous, 
 that the same objections which are valid against the one system will 
 be. of equal force against the other. The near resemblance of the 
 two may appear from the following language of Jonathan Edwards 
 in regard to Wollaston. After having remarked that " most of the 
 duties incumbent upon us, if well considered, will be found to par- 
 take of the nature of justice ; that there is some natural agreement 
 of one thing to another ; some adaptedness of the agent to the ob* 
 ject ; some answerableness of the act to the occasion ; some equali- 
 ty and proportion in things of a similar nature, and of a direct rela- 
 tion one to another," &c. — (language quite appropriate to the 
 fitness of things) — he proceeds to observe : — "It is this second- 
 ary kind of beauty which belongs to the virtues and duties that are 
 required of us, that Mr. Wollaston had in his eye, when he resolved 
 all virtue into an agreement of inclinations, volitions, and actions, 
 with truth. He evidently has respect to the justice there is in the 
 virtues and duties that are proper to be in one being, towards another; 
 which consists in one being's expressing such affections, and using 
 such a conduct, towards another, as hath a natural agreement and 
 proportion to what is in them, and what we receive from them • 
 which is ae much a natural conformity of affection and action with 
 its ground, object, and occasion, as that which is between a true 
 proposition and the thing spoken of in it." — {Diss, on the Nature 
 af true Virtue, Chap, hi.) I do not now consider the terms used 
 by Edwards as they relate to his own system, which will come to be 
 discussed hereafter. I quote the passage, as aptly illustrative of the 
 approximation to each other (so as almost to identify an import) of 
 fitnesses in Clarke's system and truth in Wollaston's. — Similar 
 observations might, perhaps, be made with regard to Malebranche's 
 love of order as the principle of virtue, and conformity to universal 
 order as what constitutes moral rectitude. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 75 
 
 senting a model of philosophic beauty, of which all must 
 acknowledge the power, who are not disqualified by their 
 very nature for the admiration and enjoyment of intellect- 
 ual excellence ; so dull of understanding as to shrink, 
 with a painful consciousness of incapacity, at the very 
 appearance of refined analysis; or so dull and cold of 
 heart, as to feel no charm in the delightful varieties of an 
 eloquence, that, in the illustration and embellishment of 
 the noblest truths, seems itself to live and harmonize with 
 those noble sentiments which it adorns."* This is high 
 praise ; but it is the praise of one who himself rejects the 
 theory ; pronouncing it, in its leading doctrine, " as man- 
 ifestly false, as the greater number of its secondary and 
 minute delineations are faithful to the fine lights, and 
 faint and flying shades, of that moral nature which they 
 represent": " — a nature which thus, without any ac- 
 knowledgment of its fallen state, comes in for its share 
 of the eulogy bestowed on its philosophic delineator. It 
 is with the principles of the theory alone that we have at 
 present to do. And we may safely say, that, but for the 
 well-earned celebrity of the name attached to it, it would 
 hardly have been deemed deserving of serious regard. It 
 is the product of an ingenious, refined, and vigorous in- 
 tellect, in quest of something original on a tritical sub- 
 ject ; but it has, justly, I think, been designated " fantas- 
 tical,"! and may, not inaptly, perhaps, be characterized 
 as the enthusiasm of moral science. 
 
 According to this theory, we judge of the actions of 
 others by a direct, and of our own by a reflex sympathy. 
 If we are conscious of a full sympathy with the emotions 
 of the agent in performing an action, we pronounce the 
 
 * Dr. Brown. t Dr. Payne. 
 
7b RADICAL ERROR 
 
 action right ; if of a similar sympathy with the gratitude 
 of the object of the action, we pronounce the agent meri- 
 torious ; — our estimate of the moral rectitude of the ac- 
 tion depending on our sympathy with the agent, — and 
 our estimate ol ihe merits of the agent, on our sympa- 
 thy with the object of his action. Then, with regard 
 to our own conduct, " we in some measure reverse this 
 process ; or rather, by a process still more refined, we im- 
 agine others sympathizing with us, and we sympathize 
 with their sympathy. We consider how our conduct 
 would appear to an impartial spectator. We approve of 
 it, if it be that of which we feel he would approve ; we 
 disapprove of it, if it be that which we feel, by the expe- 
 rience of our own former emotions, when we have our- 
 selves, in similar circumstances, estimated the actions of 
 others, would excite his disapprobation. We are able to 
 form a judgment of our own conduct, therefore, because 
 we have previously judged of the moral conduct of others, 
 that is to say, have previously sympathized with the feel- 
 ings of others; and but for the presence, or supposed 
 presence, of some impartial spectator, as a mirror to rep- 
 resent to us ourselves, we should as little have known the 
 beauty or deformity of our own moral character, as we 
 should have known the beauty or ugliness of our external 
 features without some mirror to reflect them to our ej^e."* 
 
 * I have taken this succint statement of the principles of Dr. 
 Smith's theory from Dr. Brown, because it appears to me to be com- 
 prehensively and luminously correct ; and I therefore felt it needless 
 to attempt another. " Perhaps," says Sir James Mackintosh, " there 
 is no Ethical work, since Cicero's Offices, of which an abridgment 
 enables the reader so inadequately to estimate the merit, as the 
 Theory of Moral Sentiments. This is not chiefly owing to the 
 beauty of diction, as in the case of Cicero j but to the varieties of 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 77 
 
 1 do not intend attempting* the exposure of all the fal- 
 lacies with which this system is chargeable. It is 
 chiefly in the one point of view in which I have been 
 endeavoring to place other theories, that I wish to con- 
 template it. If, however, it merits not the designation of 
 enthusiasm, I know nothing that does. It is equally en- 
 titled to the appellation, whether it be viewed in reference 
 to the principle or to the standard of moral rectitude. 
 In regard to the principle, it is not conceivable that its 
 ingenious author could imagine actions to be right or 
 wrong, because they had, or had not, a concurrent sym- 
 pathy in our minds; as if it were the sympathy that 
 constituted their rectitude, or the absence of it their delin- 
 quency, independently of anything in themselves on 
 account -of which the sympathy is experienced or with- 
 held. If our sympathy with the actions of others, and 
 with the emotions of the agents, only ascertains to us 
 their rectitude, then it has nothing to do with the deter- 
 mination of the principle or foundation of virtue, but 
 serves the purpose merely of a criterion or test. But even 
 in this view, how unsatisfactory is it ! how unavoidably 
 unstable and fluctuating, in consequence of the exposure 
 of our feelings of sympathy to so endless a variety of ex- 
 traneous influences; some of which are constant, and 
 
 explanation of life and manners, which embellish the book often 
 more than they illuminate the theory. Yet, on the other hand, it 
 must be owned, that, for purely philosophical purposes, few works 
 more need abridgment ; for the most careful reader frequently loses 
 sight of principles buried under illustrations. The naturally copious 
 and flowing style of the author is generally redundant ; and the 
 repetition of certain formularies of the system is, in the later edi- 
 tions, so frequent as to be wearisome, and sometimes ludicrous." — 
 Prel. Diss. p. 358. 
 
 *7 
 
7$ RADICAL ERROR 
 
 some incidental, and not a few of both insinuating and 
 powerful, arising from the diversity of circumstances that 
 may operate on the selfish principle ; as well as of rela- 
 tions, of greater or less proximity and intimacy, in which 
 we stand to the agents ; or, it may be, of indifference, 
 jealousy, or dislike! How uncertain a thing, alas! would 
 virtue be, were this feeling to be its criterion ! — And 
 then, considered as a test of our own actions, how whim- 
 sically circuitous is the process prescribed by it, before we 
 can determine whether we have done right or wrong ! 
 What a strange anomaly in a " theory of moral senti- 
 ments," that it should require a more complex analysis of 
 mental feeling, to ascertain the rectitude of what we do 
 ourselves, than to determine the virtue of the actions of 
 others ! — that it should make the process longest, where 
 prompt and instantaneous decision is most frequently re- 
 quired ! How extraordinary, too, is the oversight of a con- 
 sideration which is not less obvious than it is fatal to the 
 theory, — namely, that the " impartial spectator," by our 
 sympathy with whom, in his sympathy with us, we are to 
 determine the rectitude or the faultiness of our own act, 
 is a spectator of our own imagining ; to whom, of course, 
 we will, naturally and unavoidably, transfer a portion at 
 least, if not even the whole, of our self-partiality; so that, 
 after all, our reflex sympathy with the sympathy of the 
 unprejudiced witness turns out to be nothing more than 
 an illusory fellow-feeling with ourselves ! 
 
 But independently of these and other similar objections, 
 the theory stands exposed, like others, to the overwhelm- 
 ing foree of the one now under our special considera- 
 tion. Those sympathies which, in their direct and reflex 
 forms, are elevated to the high and responsible position of 
 the criterion, at least, if not the very principle of moral 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 79 
 
 right and wrong, are the sympathies of a depraved na- 
 ture, the feelings of a creature imbued to the very core 
 with the corrupting taint of sin. They are sympathies 
 which, being uninfluenced by the first element of moral 
 goodness — love to the supreme Possessor and Source of 
 all excellence — are less likely, in a vast variety of cases, 
 to be on the side of good than of evil. According to a 
 low standard, indeed, of sentimental virtue, which either 
 leaves Deity out of its estimate, or assumes a character 
 of him very different from that which, in his word, he 
 gives of himself, it may be otherwise ; there may be a 
 more frequent coincidence between sympathy and recti- 
 tude: — (although, even taking the standard of the con- 
 ventional morality of the world, the preceding objections 
 to the theory would be far from destitute of force:) but 
 its grand and fatal error lies in this, — that it assumes, 
 what, alas! has no basis in truth, — the rectitude of 
 human nature. If it be so, that that nature has lost 
 its rectitude, then the theory, and the philosopher who 
 framed it, are found chargeable with the strange anomaly, 
 ,of making the sympathies of evil the criterion of good. 
 
 Let us now, on the same principle, very brief- 6. System of 
 ly examine Dr. Hutcheson s theory ot a mor- son. 
 al sense : — a theory which, in the phraseology of it, has 
 been adopted by not a few, without any very distinct un- 
 derstanding of its real merits. They have used the terms 
 moral sense and conscience as synonymous, without very 
 accurately examining into the nature of either. It is not 
 the merits of the theory in general that I have at present 
 to discuss. I satisfy myself, (as in former cases,) with a 
 single remark or two, merely so far illustrative of its na- 
 ture as to show the applicability to it of my leading ob- 
 jection. The moral sense, as the very use of the term 
 
80 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 sense implies, is designed to denote a supposed internal 
 power resembling, in its operation, that of the external or 
 corporeal senses. As the sensations derived by the latter 
 from the objects around us, are pleasing or displeasing ; 
 so, by means of this inward mental sense, the feelings of 
 moral approbation or disapprobation are excited in our 
 minds, by the different actions and affections of moral 
 agents. The operation of this moral sense is to be con- 
 sidered, agreeably to the designed analogy, as independent 
 of reason and of all argumentation : and it is from the 
 internal sensations (if I may so express myself) to which 
 it gives rise, that our moral judgments are formed. The 
 intimations of this moral sense are to be regarded as 
 equally immediate, and equally sure, with the intuitive 
 intellectual perceptions of the preceding system; or, 
 agreeably to the analogy on which its nomenclature is 
 founded, with the notions of things without us, received 
 by the instrumentality of our bodily organs. 
 
 According to this theory, it would seem, that the quali- 
 ties which constitute virtue, or moral goodness, must be 
 regarded rather as relative than as essential. It makes 
 the rectitude of any action to consist in a certain relation 
 which it bears to this moral sense, in consequence of 
 which it produces pleasure; in the same way as particu- 
 lar colors occasion sensations of pleasure, in consequence 
 of a similar relation between them and the organ of vis- 
 ion, — or particular sounds, from the same kind of rela- 
 tion between them and the organ of hearing. This 
 appears to make the nature of virtue dependent on the 
 arbitrary constitution of the mind ; so that, in affirming a 
 thing to be right, we do not mean that it has in itself 
 any property of essential and immutable rectitude, — but 
 only that, according to the constitution of our minds, it 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 81 
 
 gives rise to a certain inward feeling of pleasure and ap- 
 probation: — whence it follows, that, on the supposition 
 of a change in the moral sense, and a consequent change 
 in the moral sensations, there would arise a correspond- 
 ing change in the nature of moral rectitude, modifying, 
 or even, it might be, reversing, our ideas of right and 
 wrong. By adopting the intimations of a moral sense, 
 not in a merely analogical and figurative, but in the strict 
 and proper acceptation of terms, in contradistinction to 
 the mind's intuitive perception of essential truths, the au- 
 thors of this system have certainly left it open to this 
 radical objection. 
 
 Were we to understand terms figuratively, we might, 
 in the way of analogy, without any great impropriety, 
 have applied the designation moral sense, intelligibly 
 enough to that intuitive discernment of moral distinc- 
 tions, which we conceive to be the appropriate possession 
 of a sinless creature, and, along with the perfect conform- 
 ity of disposition to the perception of right, to constitute 
 the harmony of that creature's nature with the nature of 
 Deity. But man is not now such a creature. He is the 
 very reverse, — not sinless, but radically sinful. And 
 here, therefore, as before, applies our fatal objection. 
 
 What are we to think of finding the principle, or even 
 the standard and criterion of virtue, in the moral sense, 
 (whether understood more literally or more figuratively, 
 more strictly or more vaguely,) of a creature whose moral 
 nature is vitiated, and alienated from God ? Might we 
 not, quite as reasonably, nominate, as judge of colors, a 
 man with jaundiced or otherwise distempered eyes, — or 
 a man whose palate, in consequence of some organic or 
 constitutional disorder, had lost its discriminating func- 
 tions, an arbitrator of tastes? If there be in man's moral 
 
82 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 vision an obscuring film, or a distorting obliquity. — if 
 there be a hebetude in his spiritual taste, or such an in- 
 version of its original relishes as to " put bitter for sweet 
 and sweet for bitter;" — must not this equally disqualify 
 him from being a judge of appeal on questions regarding 
 the principles of rectitude? Give the power of which 
 we have been speaking what name you will, a change of 
 name alters not the nature of the thing. It is still the 
 power of a depraved creature, and, partaking in the de- 
 pravity, cannot be safely trusted as a moral arbiter; we 
 never can repose, with anything approaching to implicit 
 confidence, in the correctness of its arbitrements. — Call 
 it conscience ; you are no nearer the truth : — - for either 
 by conscience you mean the same thing that Dr. Hutche- 
 son meant by his moral sense, in which case there is no 
 difference at all; — or if you mean something else, or 
 something more, still it is the conscience of a depraved 
 creature, and being necessarily affected by the depravity, 
 cannot, on such a subject, be a secure standard of princi- 
 ple. We can no more confide in the certain rectitude of 
 its decisions, than, in any cause of importance, we could 
 with propriety rest a final sentence on the testimony of a 
 witness who was liable to be suborned and bribed, or 
 whom, on different occasions, we knew to have betrayed 
 no very scrupulous regard to truth. 
 
 Of the proper nature of conscience we shall speak a 
 little hereafter : — but to whatever conclusion we may 
 come on that point, of this we are sure, that there is 
 quite enough in its dictates to be a legitimate ground of 
 responsibility ; the corruption of heart, indeed, by which 
 those dictates are perverted being what constitutes the 
 very guilt of man, and can never be his apology. This 
 is what has impaired and deadened its sensibilities, espe- 
 
OP MORAL SYSTEMS. 83 
 
 Cially towards God, and has subverted its judicial integ- 
 rity. The inward monitor is environed by a fearful as- 
 semblage of biasing and vitiating influences, assailing, 
 tempting, bribing it on every hand, whispering their in- 
 sinuations, alarming by their threats, and alluring by 
 their promises. We should no more, therefore, think of 
 taking our standard of duty from the conscience of such 
 a Creature, than we should think of receiving from him 
 our instructions as to the nature of God. If it be true 
 that, from the very domination of depraved affections and 
 desires, men " did not like to retain God in their knowl- 
 edge/' we surely cannot wonder that they should have 
 discovered an aversion not less inveterate, to retain the 
 right knowledge of his ivill ; especially when we con- 
 sider, that it was in fact the dislike of his will, and the 
 fondness for what was opposite to it, that fostered the 
 spirit of alienation from himself, and engendered the wish 
 for gods more congenial to their depraved propsnsities. 
 
 Men, I must repeat, who actually possess the benefit of 
 revelation, may, by the aid of its unacknowledged, nay, 
 possibly, its disowned and disparaged light, construct 
 theories of imposing plausibility, both as to the knowl* 
 edge of Deity and the knowledge of duty attainable by 
 unassisted nature; but facts, stubborn, melancholy, un- 
 numbered facts, are against them. Wherever, indeed, 
 there are not entertained right conceptions of Deity, it is 
 impossible that there should be right conceptions of duty. 
 Where there is an Unknown God, there must, to a great 
 extent, be an unknown law. Where there are gross mis- 
 conceptions of the nature and character of the Godhead, 
 there must be corresponding misconceptions of the high- 
 est principles of rectitude, and grounds of moral obliga- 
 tion ; and these primary misconceptions necessarily per- 
 
84 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 vade, with a vitiating influence, the entire system of 
 morals between man and man; for man cannot be 
 
 RIGHT WITH MAN, IF HE IS NOT RIGHT WITH GoD. 
 
 7. system of I must now offer a few similar strictures on 
 
 Dr. Thomas 
 
 Brown. the moral theory of that most acute and accom- 
 plished metaphysician, and in many respects, according 
 to the concurrent testimonies of all who knew him, 
 most amiable and estimable man, the late Dr. Thomas 
 Brown. 
 
 I cannot but express the deepest regret, — a regret in 
 which, I am confident, my auditors will fully sympathize, 
 that a mind like his, when speculating, on subjects like 
 the present, with all the penetration of a discriminative 
 intellect, — and exhibiting the results of his speculations, 
 though at times with a needless prolixity and an almost 
 superfluous refinement of metaphysical abstraction, yet 
 with all the rich elegance of a scholar's erudition and a 
 poet's fancy, — should have missed so widely of the truth, 
 as to me he appears to have done, in r ard to the princi- 
 ple or ground of moral obligation. And the source of 
 his error seems to lie in the very same quarter with that 
 of the errors of others, — the absence of a just, — by 
 which I mean a scriptural, view, of the present character 
 and condition of human nature. 
 
 In the exposition of his theory of virtue, there is the 
 same amplitude of illustration ' and excess of refinement, 
 which I have mentioned as a general characteristic of 
 his writings; — but it is not at all my intention, as it is 
 not necessary for my present purpose, to enter minutely 
 into the discussion of all the points involved in it which 
 might afford room for comment and controversy. I have 
 to do with the system now, only in one point of view ; 
 and the consideration of it in this light will not require 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 85 
 
 large quotation. Two or three sentences, in the mean 
 time, will be sufficient. 
 
 " Why," says Dr. Brown, " does it seem to us virtue to 
 act in this way ? Why does he seem to us to have merit, 
 or in other words to be worthy of our approbation, who 
 has acted in this way ? Why have we a feeling of obli- 
 gation or duty when we think of acting in this way ? 
 The only answer which we can give to these questions is 
 the same to all, that it is impossible for us to consider the 
 action without feeling that, by acting in this way, we 
 should look upon ourselves, and others would look upon 
 us, with approving regard ; and that if we were to act in 
 a different way, we should look upon ourselves, and oth- 
 ers would look upon us, with abhorrence, or at least with 
 disapprobation. — It appears to us virtue, obligation, merit, 
 because the very contemplation of the action excites in 
 us a certain feeling of vivid approval. It is this irresisti- 
 ble approvableness (if I may use such a word to express 
 briefly the relation of certain actions to the emotion that 
 is instantly excited by them) which constitutes to us, who 
 consider the action, the virtue of the action itself, the 
 merit of him who performed it, the moral obligation on 
 him to have performed it."* 
 
 You will at once perceive, that the objection mentioned 
 to the system of Dr. Hutcheson's moral sense, namely, that 
 it converts virtue into a mere relation, applies still more di- 
 rectly and strongly here. According to this theory, there 
 is in virtue nothing essential, — and nothing, consequently, 
 essentially virtuous in the actions of a moral agent con- 
 sidered in themselves, (in connection, of course, with their 
 
 * Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind. Lecture 
 LXXIII. 
 
 8 
 
86 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 motives;) — but the virtue of the actions consists solely 
 in a certain relation between them and our minds, — the 
 relation by which they give rise to the immediate and 
 vivid feeling of approval. This emotion, arising in the 
 mind instantaneously, instead of being produced by any 
 previous judgment on the nature of the action from 
 which it arises, is, in the strictest sense, the foundation 
 of our moral judgment ; so that we do not experience the 
 feeling of approbation because we judge the action right, 
 but we judge the action right because it excites in us the 
 feeling of approbation ; the feeling not being at all gen- 
 erated in us from our contemplating the action as virtu- 
 ous, but its virtue consisting in its relative adaptation to 
 excite the feeling. 
 
 It is this vivid feeling of approbation, which, according 
 to Dr. Brown, not merely indicates or ascertains to us the 
 virtuousness of the action, but constitutes it virtuous: 
 such is his own expression — it " constitutes the virtue of 
 the action itself, the merit of him who performed it, and 
 the moral obligation on him to have performed it." The 
 conclusion, that this resolves virtue into a mere relation, 
 and a relation dependent on the arbitrary constitution of 
 our minds, is a conclusion from which the philosophic 
 author of the theory is far from shrinking. He admits 
 it; he insists upon it ; he argues it. " Virtue," according 
 to his frequently repeated statement, "being a term ex- 
 pressive only of the relation of certain actions, as con- 
 templated, to certain emotions in the minds of those who 
 contemplate them, cannot have any universality beyond 
 that of the minds in which these emotions arise ; " it is 
 " nothing in itself, but only a general name for certain 
 actions, which agree in exciting, when contemplated, a 
 certain emotion of the mind ; " — it is " a felt relation, 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 87 
 
 and nothing more." He defends this position against 
 the advocates of eternal and immutable morality, with a 
 very unsuccessful waste, as it appears to me, of meta- 
 physical acumen, an acumen so minutely penetrating, 
 that it seems as if it could discern extension in a mathe- 
 matical point. 
 
 In showing that "right and wrong are nothing in 
 themselves, but words expressive only of relation," and 
 vindicating the position from the charge of making vir- 
 tue something altogether dependent and precarious, he 
 says, " It is not to moral distinctions only that this objec- 
 tion, if it had any force, would be applicable. Equality, 
 proportion, it might be said, in like manner, signify noth- 
 ing in the objects themselves to which they are applied, 
 more than vice or virtue. They are as truly merely rela- 
 tions as the relations of morality." But equality and 
 proportion are surely, on such a subject, very ill-chosen 
 examples, being terms that necessarily involve in them 
 the idea of relation to something else ; which cannot be 
 affirmed of virtue and vice, — of right and wrong in 
 morals, without an obvious begging of the question. It 
 would have been more to the purpose to have proved the 
 converse, — that virtue and vice are as really mere rela- 
 tions as equality and proportion are.* 
 
 From the position that virtue and vice are terms of 
 mere relation to the constitution of our minds, it appears 
 to be an immediate and unavoidable sequence, that, on 
 the supposition of another class of intelligent creatures 
 being differently constituted from us, — constituted with 
 such a nature that the vivid emotions of approbation and 
 disapprobation should be reversed, that which pleases us 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note F. 
 
88 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 offending them, and that which offends us exciting in 
 them the feeling of pleasure, — then that which is in us 
 virtue would in them be vice, and that which is vice, 
 virtue. Virtue being nothing in itself, but lying solely in 
 the relation of the action to our emotions, I cannot see 
 how the inference can be evaded, that, the relations and 
 emotions being changed and inverted, there must be a 
 corresponding inversion of moral obligations: vice must 
 become virtue, and virtue vice. 
 
 Should it, in answer to this, be alleged, that such a 
 thing cannot be, — that the supposition is one which can 
 never by possibility be realized, because we cannot im- 
 agine the Divine Being to constitute intelligent creatures 
 so as that, from their original nature, vice should produce 
 the emotion appropriate to virtue, and virtue the emotion 
 appropriate to vice, — vice the moral sentiments of ap- 
 probation, and virtue the reverse: — I should reply, I 
 grant the impossibility ; but he who urges it against my 
 conclusion, abandons the theory. For, if virtue and vice, 
 moral rectitude and moral pravity, are expressive of noth- 
 ing belonging intrinsically to actions in their own nature, 
 but simply of their relations to created minds, I feel my- 
 self altogether incapable of divining any reason, why 
 these relations should not be diversified in every possible 
 mode of variety. Why should it not be in the moral 
 world, as it is in the natural 1 In the latter, there are to 
 be found adaptations, endlessly varied, of the physical 
 properties of matter to the structure, to the modes of life, 
 and to the sources of enjoyment, amongst all the different 
 tribes of sensitive being, and unnumbered relations arising 
 from this divine arrangement, indicative of the wise and 
 mighty benevolence of the great Creator. Why, then, 
 should it not be thus in the former ? Why should there 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 89 
 
 not be a similar variety in the adaptation of different 
 moral natures to different modes of action, — each hav- 
 ing its own peculiar "vivid feelings of approbation," 
 arising from different and opposite sources, but all equally 
 virtuous, because equally in harmony with the original 
 and divinely instituted relations of each nature ? I can 
 conceive of nothing whatever that should have prevented 
 this analogy between the beautiful variety of the natural 
 and that of the moral world, excepting the existence in 
 the Divine Mind of certain immutable principles of moral 
 rectitude, from which, in fixing the constitution of any of 
 ' his intelligent creatures, it is impossible for Deity, consis- 
 tently with his own moral nature, to depart. But every 
 supposition of this kind, I need hardly say, is subversive 
 of the theory: — a theory, which appears to me to in- 
 volve a relinquishment of everything that, in strictness 
 of speech, at all deserves the designation of moral rec- 
 titude. 
 
 Having offered these general remarks, which will be 
 found to have an immediate bearing on a subsequent part 
 of our subject, I must proceed to the objection which it 
 is my business at present specially to notice. — That that 
 objection holds good, in all its force, against the present 
 as against former theories, will be at once apparent from 
 the quotation of a single sentence. " We speak always," 
 says Dr. Brown, "relatively to the constitution of our 
 minds ; not to what we might have been constituted to 
 admire, if we had been created b}' a different Being, but 
 to what we are constituted to admire, and what, in our 
 present circumstances, approving or disapproving with 
 instant love or abhorrence, it is impossible for us not to 
 believe to be, in like manner, the objects of approbation or 
 disapprobation to Him who has endowed us with feelings 
 8 
 
90 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 so admirably accordant with all those other gracious pur- 
 poses which we discover in the economy of nature." 
 
 The ground thus taken is in agreement with that con- 
 tained in an extract given in a former Lecture, as well as 
 in many other passages, which, were it at all necessarj', 
 might be cited. Before I proceed to apply to it my lead- 
 ing objection, I cannot forbear taking notice of the re- 
 markable expression used by the writer, when he supposes 
 the possibility of our having been otherwise constituted 
 than we are. The expression to which I allude is, — "If 
 we had been created by a different Being" Was there 
 then, after all, in the philosopher's mind, a felt recoil 
 from the supposition of our having received a different 
 constitution in regard to our emotions of approbation and 
 disapprobation, from the same Being % Was there some 
 secret " moral emotion," — some perhaps hardly conscious 
 misgiving, as if such a supposition would not be quite in 
 harmony with the immutable rectitude of the Divine na- 
 ture? On the fundamental principle of the theory, that 
 virtue and vice are nothing more than simple relations, 
 such recoil and misgiving could have no consistent 
 ground ; — and I would fain regard the expression as in- 
 dicative of the lingering of a sounder principle, in spite 
 of his theory, in the mind of the accomplished and amia- 
 ble philosopher. 
 
 But what I have at present more especially to do with 
 is, what you cannot have failed to perceive, the entire ab- 
 sence, in the statements quoted, of anything like the most 
 distant recognition of degeneracy, or of innate moral 
 pravity, in the present nature of man. The principle is 
 unequivocally avowed, that the likings and dislikings, 
 the emotions* of moral pleasure and moral aversion, expe- 
 rienced by that nature, are to be regarded as a fair and 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 91 
 
 sufficient index of the mind of Deity. He speaks of 
 " what we are constituted to admire, and what, in our 
 present circumstances, approving or disapproving with 
 instant love or abhorrence, it is impossible for us not to 
 believe to be, in like manner, the objects of approbation 
 or disapprobation to Him who has endowed us with such 
 feelings." 
 
 Here, then, is still the same radical mistake. The Bi- 
 ble doctrine of the apostate and alienated condition of 
 man, is not only not recognized, but, in as direct terms as 
 could well be employed short of a flat and absolute de- 
 nial, contradicted. Human nature is regarded with com- 
 placency. It is so constituted that whatever it approves 
 and loves, God approves and loves 5 and whatever it dis- 
 approves and hates, God disapproves and hates. I hesi- 
 tate not to say, that, if this be true, the Bible is a fable. 
 Its most explicit statements respecting the present 
 character and condition of man are false ; and the stu- 
 pendous scheme of mediation and mercy, of pardon and 
 regeneration, which it is its chief purpose to reveal, is be- 
 reft of all basis, and (its wisdom being founded on its ne- 
 cessity) is virtually declared foolish, by being pronounced 
 unnecessary. It is of little moment whether these state- 
 ments be at once distinctly and honestly disowned, or put 
 through such a process of critical nitration as refines them 
 all away, — bereaving them of their whole meaning and 
 consistency, in order to bring them to anything like har- 
 mony with the dicta of a self-sufficient philosophy ; and 
 so rendering the Book which contains them, as a source 
 of instruction to the unlettered and the poor, utterly in- 
 appropriate and incompetent. 
 
 In combating the doctrine of innate ideas, Mr. Locke, 
 following Aristotle, has compared the human mind to a 
 
92 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 sheet of white paper, on which characters of different de- 
 scriptions may subsequently be written. By those phi- 
 losophers who deny the innate depravity of human 
 nature, the comparison has frequently been applied to the 
 mind in regard to its moral state, its dispositions and ten- 
 dencies. It will be a juster comparison, if, in this res- 
 pect, we liken the mind to a sheet of paper on which 
 have been written characters in sympathetic ink, which 
 are not discernible by the eye, till, by approximation 
 to the fire, or by some appropriate chemical application, 
 they are brought out into legible distinctness. So it is 
 with the principles of evil in infancy. We may not, for 
 a time, be sensible of their presence ; and may be delight- 
 ed with the smiling harmlessness of the little babe. But 
 the principles are there ; and require only the influence of 
 circumstances to bring them into practical and visible 
 manifestation, — a manifestation, which, to the eye of 
 even a superficial observer, commences at a very early 
 period. 
 
 A philosopher of the class referred to, we might expect 
 to find (if indeed he thought the attempt worth his while) 
 endeavoring to bring the representations of the Apostle 
 Paul into accordance with his own, by explaining the 
 affirmation, that " the carnal mind is enmity against 
 God," as without doubt having reference to such profligate 
 sensualists as, by a long course of vicious indulgence, 
 have deteriorated and debased their nature, have allowed 
 their appetites to get the ascendency of their reason and 
 their moral principles, have subjected the soul to the 
 body, the spirit with its exquisite powers and divine sensi- 
 bilities, to the dominion of the flesh. If the Apostle's 
 testimony is not openly and honestly discarded, (which 
 would be by far the more manly part,) he must not under 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 93 
 
 the designation of the carnal mind, be allowed to mean 
 human nature universally, far less human nature in the 
 unsophisticated simplicity, and undebauched innocence, 
 in which it is born into the world. The " carnal mind " 
 must not be regarded as at all comprehensive of the spe- 
 cies, but only of some occasional, though, it may be, too 
 frequent varieties. It expresses not the generic character 
 but only the exception ; not what mankind are, but what 
 individual men become. It is in this way that the plain- 
 est and most unequivocal statements of the word of the 
 living God arc too frequently dealt with ; — not verbally 
 denied, yet really disbelieved ; not explained, but explained 
 away. It is clear as noon, that the system of which I 
 am now speaking, and the Bible doctrine of human 
 depravity, cannot possibly exist together. The system 
 has been framed altogether independently of any such 
 doctrine. There is not the remotest recognition of it. 
 The introduction of it would displace the very key-stone 
 of the arch, and bring the whole fabric to ruins. Had 
 Dr. Brown viewed man as at all sustaining the character 
 of a fallen creature, whose moral principles and feelings 
 are corrupt and vitiated, it would have been impossible for 
 him to frame his theory. It could have had no basis in 
 his mind on which to rest ; and, if the doctrine of human 
 depravity, however obnoxious to the scorn of philosophy, 
 be indeed a truth, then is its very foundation laid in error ; 
 or rather, the entire structure is no better than an aerial 
 castle, splendid but visionary, the day-dream of a philoso- 
 phic reverie. 
 
 Permit me, in the remainder of this Lecture, 8, System of 
 
 ' ' utility, as 
 
 to call your attention to another, and only maintained 
 
 ^ J by Hume and 
 
 another system, and to examine it on the same others, 
 
94 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 principle, — I mean the system which places the founda- 
 tion and the criterion of virtue in utility. 
 
 Mr. Hume's definition of virtue makes it coincident 
 with whatever is agreeable and useful to ourselves and 
 others; — agreeable and useful to ourselves without injury 
 to others, and to others without injury to ourselves. Be 
 it remembered, that in the nomenclature of this philoso- 
 pher, pleasure and utility were limited in their import to 
 the present life ; there being, according to him, no futurity 
 of conscious existence beyond its termination. In this 
 respect it corresponds with the Epicurean theory, adverted 
 to in a former Lecture ; although, in admitting into its 
 estimate of utility what is agreeable to others as well as 
 to ourselves, it has less in it than that theory of the ele- 
 ment of selfishness. Mr. Hume's definition has been con- 
 ceived by some to involve in it a confounding of things 
 that are in their nature essentially different. If virtue, it 
 has been alleged, consists in utility, then whatever is 
 useful ought to be virtuous; from which it seems to 
 follow, that in the mind of the hungry man there should 
 be associated a strong sentiment of moral approbation with 
 a comfortable meal, and in the mind of the man of science 
 with a spinning-jenny or a steam engine. Dr. Adam 
 Smith, Dr. Brown, and others, have urged this objection 
 strongly ; the former of these two philosophers summing 
 up what he says in the pithy statement, that according 
 to the system which is founded on such a definition, " we 
 have no other reason for praising a man than that for 
 which we commend a chest of drawers." I at one time 
 concurred fully in the validity of this objection. It now, 
 I confess, appears to my mind in a different light. Mr. 
 Hume, I apprehend, hardly gets justice in it. It ought, 
 in the whole discussion, to be previously understood and 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 95 
 
 assumed, that when we treat of virtue, we treat of what 
 relates exclusively, to the feelings and actions of living, 
 conscious voluntary agents. Much that is physically 
 useful may be found in the natural world : but we do 
 not associate the utility with any conceptions of virtue, 
 for the simple reason, that it is not found in that depart- 
 ment of nature to which all our ideas of virtue are pre- 
 viously understood to be restricted. It certainly does not 
 legitimately follow, that because the usefulness of a 
 steam engine is the consideration on account of which 
 we value it, therefore the usefulness of the action of a 
 moral agent, is not and cannot be the consideration on 
 account of which we approve it; — or that because we 
 approve the action of a voluntary agent on account of its 
 utility, therefore, wherever we discover utility, whether it 
 be the result of the action of such an agent or not, we 
 must experience the same kind of approbation. Dr. 
 Brown reasons thus : — "It is evidently, then, not mere 
 utility which constitutes the essence of virtue, or which 
 constitutes the measure of virtue ; since we feel, for the 
 most useful inanimate objects, even when their usefulness 
 is to continue as long as the whole race of beings that 
 from age to age are to be capable of profiting by them, 
 no emotions of the kind which we feel when we consider 
 the voluntary actions of those who are capable of know- 
 ing and willing the good which they produce. A benevo- 
 lent man and a steam engine may both be instrumental 
 to the happiness of society, and the quantity of happiness 
 produced by the unconscious machine may be greater 
 perhaps, than that produced by the living agent; but 
 there is no imaginary increase or diminution of the utility 
 of the one and of the other, that can make the feelings 
 with which we view them shadow into each other, or 
 
96 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 correspond in any point of the scale." " Though," con- 
 tinues he, " it is impossible for the theorist not to feel the 
 irresistible force of this argument* when he strives in vain 
 to think of some infinite accession of utility to a mere 
 machine, which may procure for it all the veneration that 
 is given to virtue, he can yet take refuge in the obscurity 
 of a verbal distinction. Utility, he will tell us, is not in 
 every instance followed by this veneration, it is only 
 utility in the actions of living beings that is followed by 
 it ; and when even all the actions of living beings are 
 shown not to produce it, but only such actions as had in 
 view that moral good which we admire, he will consent 
 to narrow his limitation still more, and confine the utility 
 which he regards as the same with virtue, to certain vol- 
 untary actions of living beings. Does he not perceive, 
 however, that in making these limitions, he has conceded 
 the very point in question ? He admits that the actions 
 of men are not valued merely as being useful in which 
 case they must have ranked in virtue with all things that 
 are useful, exactly according to their place in the scale 
 of utility, but for something which may be useful, yet 
 which merely as useful would never have excited the 
 feelings which it excites when considered as a voluntary 
 choice of good."* 
 
 In all this, however plausible, there appears to me a 
 lurking fallacy. In such discussions, as I have already 
 said, it should on all hands be previously understood, 
 that virtue, independently of every question about the 
 ground of its approvableness belongs exlusively to the 
 department of voluntary agency; — that consciousness 
 and voluntariness are essential to its nature, whatever be 
 
 * Lecture LXXVII. 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 97 
 
 the peculiarity in it that excites the sentiment of appro* 
 bation. Neither consciousness nor voluntariness is itself 
 that peculiarity ; these being common to moral actions 
 generally, the evil as well as the good. What then is it? 
 Is it utility ? No, it is alleged ; else it would follow, that 
 whatever is useful would be virtuous. But this is a 
 non-sequitur. If it be previously understood, as in all 
 reason it ought to be, that virtue belongs exclusively to 
 the department of rational and voluntary agency, then to 
 allege that because it is its utility that renders an action 
 within this department approvable, therefore whatever is 
 useful, though without this department, must in the same 
 sense be approvable, is a palpable sophism : — because, 
 although it may have the common property of usefulness, 
 it has not the special property of voluntariness. When 
 Dr. Brown says, in the preceding citation, " The theorist 
 admits that the actions of men are not valued merely as 
 useful, in which case they must have ranked in virtue 
 with all things that are useful, exactly according to their 
 place in the scale of utility ; but for something which 
 may be useful, or rather which is useful, yet which, mere- 
 ly as useful, never could have excited the feelings which 
 it excites when considered as a voluntary choice of 
 good ; " what does he superadd to utility as necessary to 
 the excitement of moral approbation ? Is there anything 
 more than voluntariness ? Yet it is not in the volunta- 
 riness that the virtue consists; for-, to render an action 
 virtuous, or capable of " exciting vivid moral emotions," 
 it must not only be a voluntary choice, but a " voluntary 
 choice of goodP Might not the theorist, then, fairly retort, 
 is it not on account of the good which the agent volunta- 
 rily chooses, that his action does excite the emotion of ap- 
 probation % And is not this the very theory of utility % 
 9 
 
98 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 that in the actions of voluntary agents (in which alone, 
 any moral principle whether good or evil, is to be sought) 
 the virtue consists in the good or benefit to which, in the 
 purpose of the agent, they tend? — The language of 
 Dr. Dwight, in replying to the same objection — the ob- 
 jection that if virtue is founded in utility, everything 
 which is useful must so far be virtuous — is indignantly 
 strong : yet it does not seem without reason : — - " This 
 objection it is hardly necessary to answer. Voluntary 
 usefulness is the only virtue. A smatterer in moral phi- 
 losophy knows, that understanding and will are necessary 
 to the existence of virtue. He who informs us that, if 
 virtue is founded on utility, animals, vegetables, and 
 minerals, the sun, the moon and the stars must be vir- 
 tuous so far as as they are useful, is either disposed to 
 trifle with mankind for their amusement, or supposes them 
 to be triflers."* 
 
 I have been led to offer these remarks in justice to the 
 theory. Let no one from this imagine that I am arguing 
 in its support. Associating with it the ideas of utility 
 and agreeableness entertained by Mr. Hume, — ideas that 
 neither rose to God nor extended into eternity, but were 
 bounded by the present benefit and present enjoyment of 
 the creature, — the principle of it is one which, both in little- 
 ness and in laxity, is worthy of a place beside the system 
 of universal and dreary scepticism in which he sought to 
 involve all the departments of metaphysical science. In 
 confining the agreeable and the useful to that life which, 
 " as a vapor endureth for a little and then vanisheth 
 away," it is unworthy the possessor of a nature, which, 
 
 * Dwight's Theology. Sermon XCLX Notes and Illustrations. 
 
 Note G. 
 
OP MORAL SYSTEMS. 99 
 
 though fallen, is still immortal, and still, when its obliqui- 
 ty of disposition is corrected, capable of such lofty aspir- 
 ings, and of such divine and eternal joys ; and in con- 
 stituting men themselves the judges of the agreeable and 
 the useful, and identifying virtue with whatever promises 
 to contribute to their own and one another's pleasure and 
 advantage, it gives the sanction of a plenary indulgence 
 to every appetite and desire, whose present gratification 
 holds out this promise. What a maxim for the rule of 
 conduct to a depraved creature ! that the only question 
 he has to ask is, what is agreeable or what is useful to 
 himself, with the sole restriction that his own gratification 
 do not interfere, in the way of prevention or dimunition, 
 with the gratification of others ! — that there is nothing 
 whatever, either to oblige him to one course or to restrain 
 him from another, beyond the single consideration of what 
 he likes, provided the indulgence of his liking does no 
 injury to his fellow men ! This is to constitute the pro- 
 pensities of man's apostate nature, and his calculations of 
 benefit under all the biasing sway of these propensities, 
 the criterion of moral rectitude : — in other words, it is to 
 reduce moral rectitude to nothing more than a name. 
 For since present pleasure and profit may arise, at sundry 
 times and under varying circumstances, from different and 
 even opposite actions and courses of conduct, vice and 
 virtue become, by this means, in themselves indifferent ; 
 the good or the evil in either being in no case absolute, 
 but merely relative to their present effects. 
 
 But the Utilitarian system has been maintained on 
 higher and more extended grounds than those of Mr 
 Hume's contracted and heartless scepticism. It has been 
 held and vindicated by those who, in estimating the hap- 
 piness of the individual, take into account the whole ex- 
 
100 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 tent of his immortal being, — and who, moreover, with 
 individual benefit associate the general good *of the uni- 
 verse. — These, it must be admitted, are high and impor- 
 tant ends. Next to the glory of the Divine Being himself, 
 (which of necessity stands first, there being nothing to 
 which, without impiety, we can fancy it to give way,) we 
 cannot conceive of any ends either prior or superior to 
 the happiness of immortal intelligences, and the well- 
 being of the entire creation. Still, however, it remains a 
 question, how far conduciveness even to these is what 
 properly constitutes virtue or moral rectitude. Instead of 
 its conduciveness to good constituting its essential nature, 
 
 — from its essential nature may arise its conduciveness to 
 good. High as the ends are which have been mentioned, 
 they are still, (as may be noticed more fully hereafter,) 
 even although embracing the universe and eternity, far 
 short of the full and legitimate acceptation of the term 
 utility ,- which, in the estimate of final causes, ought to 
 be understood as rising from the created to the uncreated, 
 and, along with the good of the universe, embracing the 
 glory of the Godhead. When so understood, it will cer- 
 tainly follow, that whatever really conduces to these two 
 great ends must be good ; because in these two ends there 
 is an exhaustion of all that is imaginable by our minds ; 
 
 — the Godhead and the universe comprehending all that 
 exists. But the inquiry which, even then, as I have just 
 hinted, will remain, is this — whether virtue is good be- 
 cause it conduces to these ends, or whether it does not 
 necessarily conduce to these ends because it is good ; -. — 
 in other words, whether the system, even in this loftiest 
 and most enlarged view of it, goes far enough back ; — 
 whether there be not ultimate principles of moral rectitude, 
 necessary and eternal, existing previously to all possible 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 101 
 
 trial and manifestation of their tendencies ; and whether 
 the actual evolution of the goodness of those tendencies, 
 commencing of course with the earliest date of creation, 
 instead of being what essentially constitutes moral recti- 
 tude itself, ought not rather to be regarded as the native 
 and appropriate result of the principles of rectitude, and, 
 by consequence, to a mind capable of applying it, a fair 
 and decisive test of what is in accordance with those 
 principles. 
 
 But what I have at present specially to insist upon is, 
 the utter incompetency of man, on the supposition that 
 utility were admitted to be both the principle and the cri- 
 terion of rectitude, to apply the criterion, or to be judge 
 of such utility. Even if man were sinless, the incompe- 
 tency might be predicated of him, on the ground of the 
 vastness of the subject, and the limitation of his faculties 
 and his means of observation. Of such a creature, even 
 when free of all contracting and corrupting influence, how 
 narrow must be the conceptions of what is conducive to 
 the good of the universe, and to the glory of its Maker ! 
 The phrases, like others formerly noticed, are easily ut- 
 tered ; and, aided as we are by what we already know 
 from God himself, we are apt to fancy that we understand 
 them ; but the observation made about " eternal fitnesses 11 
 is not less applicable to them : they are of boundless im- 
 port, altogether beyond the grasp of any intellect but that 
 by which the universe in all its amplitude, and Godhead 
 in all its infinitude, can be fully comprehended. If then, 
 on such a subject, the conceptions even of a holy creature 
 must be so inadequate; how biased, how various, how 
 inconsistent, how frequently pernicious, must those be of 
 a creature under the dominion of moral pravity ! How 
 partial, and many a time how false, are the notions of 
 *9 
 
102 RADICAL ERROR 
 
 such a creature, of what constitutes, and of what may be 
 conducive to, his own benefit ! And how inexpressibly 
 foolish, then, the idea of leaving to the determination of 
 such a creature what will best promote the interests of 
 the universe — a creature, who knows but little of his 
 own world, diminutive as it is amid the immensity of 
 creation, — and who, with regard to the constitution of 
 other worlds, and the conditions and characters of their 
 inhabitants, is unavoidably and profoundly ignorant ; a 
 creature, too, in whose perverted mind the glory of Deity 
 is little understood and less regarded, and whose degener- 
 ate principles, even were this knowledge much more ex- 
 tensive than it is, cannot but vitiate and invalidate all his 
 general conclusions. In short, there is here, as in former 
 cases, the same fundamental objection. Even if the the- 
 ory were, in the principle of it, correct ; still, if the appli- 
 cation of it is to lie with man, the expectation of a satis- 
 factory result must be equally vain and presumptuous. I 
 can imagine nothing more wildly preposterous, than the 
 setting of such a creature, imbued throughout with the 
 taint of moral apostasy, to investigate and settle the es- 
 sential principles of moral rectitude, by determining ques- 
 tions relative to the good of the universe, while every 
 day and every hour are convicting him of numberless and 
 miserable mistakes in the limited question of what is 
 most conducive to his own! — Even Dr. Brown, with no 
 such views of human nature, admits the incompetency of 
 a creature with faculties so limited, for settling principles 
 of which the range is so boundless : — " The coincidence 
 of general good," says he, " with those particular affec- 
 tions which are felt by us to be virtuous, is, indeed, it 
 must be admitted, a proof that this general good has been 
 the object of some being who has adapted them to each 
 
OF MORAL SYSTEMS. 103 
 
 other. But it was of a Being far higher than man — of 
 him who alone is able to comprehend the whole system 
 of things ; and who allots to our humbler faculties and 
 affections those partial objects which alone they are able 
 to comprehend; giving us still, however, the noble 
 privilege 
 
 < To join 
 
 Our partial movement with the master-wheel 
 Of the great world, and serve that sacred end, 
 Which he, the unerring Reason, keeps in view.' " * 
 
 — That man, like all the other creatures of God, has 
 subserved the "sacred end" that is kept in view by the 
 infinite and " unerring Reason," it were impious to ques- 
 tion. But, alas, how has this been? Not by a voluntary 
 and holy co-operation of the subject creature with the 
 supreme and rightful Governor ; but by that Governor's 
 having, in wisdom and love, availed himself of the apos- 
 tasy of the creature, to present to the wondering universe 
 a manifestation, the most stupendous in glory and delight- 
 ful in interest, of his own all-perfect character; thus 
 promoting the great purposes of his moral government, 
 and rearing on the ruins of human nature a magnificent 
 temple to his praise; — a temple, towards which, for 
 aught we can tell, the eyes of an intelligent universe 
 may look in their adorations, just as from all countries 
 of the world through which they were scattered, the eyes 
 of the chosen people of Israel, were turned towards the 
 Sanctuary of Jehovah at Jerusalem. 
 
 It is my intention to devote the next Lecture to an 
 examination of the moral system of Bishop Butler, assign- 
 
 * Lecture LXXVII. 
 
104 RADICAL ERROR, &C. 
 
 ing, at the same time, my reasons for so doing : — after 
 which our way will be clear for the more direct discussion 
 of what we conceive to be the truth on the interesting 
 questions at issue. 
 
LECTURE IV. 
 
 THE MORAL SYSTEM OF BISHOP BUTLER. 
 
 Rom. II. 14. 
 
 " For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the 
 things contained in the law ; these, having not the law, are a law 
 unto themselves." 
 
 Respecting the various theories which, in former 
 Lectures, we have had under our brief review, it has been 
 my object to show you, that they are all chargeable with 
 the twofold fallacy mentioned at the outset of my stric- 
 tures, and are all alike vitiated by it ; — namely, that in 
 each one of them, the human nature is assumed as the 
 standard by which virtue is to be estimated, and man, 
 the possessor of that nature, as the judge by whom the 
 estimate is to be made ; while if man is a fallen and 
 morally depraved creature, the standard is fallacious, and 
 the judge incompetent ; the source of the information 
 deceptive, and the theorist who uses it himself a subject 
 of the deceptive influence. Yet even by philosophical 
 divines, justly esteemed evangelical, there has at times 
 been discovered rather more than enough of a disposition 
 to give in to such modes of reasoning ; — to forget and 
 overlook the grand fact of man's degeneracy, or at least 
 while they are framing from the human nature their 
 rnoral theories, to mitigate its extent, and soften down its 
 
106 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 virulence. With how much of explanation, for example, 
 must such a statement as the following be taken (and jet 
 it is comparatively a moderate one) to bring it to 'clear 
 and full congruity with the Bible account of man ; 
 " We approve or disapprove of actions, not because of their 
 tendency to happiness or the contrary, but in consequence 
 of the moral constitution of our nature ] which constitu- 
 tion, as God is its Author, we are to regard as furnishing 
 the expression of his will. He who has formed us in his 
 own image, has not rendered it necessary for us to observe 
 relations and to estimate tendencies and effects, previous- 
 ly to our approving of an action as right, or our disap- 
 proving of it as wrong; and, being conscious that we 
 love virtue and hate vice without reference to, conse- 
 quences, merely because they are virtue and vice, we justly 
 infer, that it is not on account of their consequences that 
 virtue is lovely, and vice hateful, that the one produces 
 the emotions of approbation and the other of disapproba- 
 tion." There is a sense, and there is a measure, in which 
 all this is true ; but both in the phraseology and in the 
 principles of the statement, there seems to me to be more 
 of the professorial chair than of the evangelical pulpit, — 
 more of the human nature that is eulogized by philoso- 
 phers, than of the human nature that is depicted and de- 
 plored by Prophets and Apostles. Would not one sup- 
 pose, were we not otherwise aware of the author's senti- 
 ments, that the nature of which he thus writes retained 
 the image in which it was formed, and was still charac- 
 terized by a native love of goodness for its own sake, and 
 a corresponding hatred of all that is evil ? 
 !who m But- ^- s a ^ u ^ er exemplification of the systems of 
 ler - philosophical theologians, I have selected, for 
 
 illustration and comment in the present Lecture, that of 
 
OF BUTLER. 107 
 
 the justly celebrated Bishop Butler ; a man to whose 
 penetration, and learning, and argumentative sagacity, 
 Christianity is under such deep and lasting obligation. 
 In his "Analogy" he has shown, with admirable skill, 
 that the God of nature and of providence is the same as 
 the God of revelation ; and that the principle of the ob- 
 jections, urged by infidels against the latter, holds with 
 equal force against all the intimatians of Deity given by 
 the two former ; — so that not only would such objections, 
 if valid in opposition to the authority of the Scriptures, be 
 equally subversive of whatever passes under the designa- 
 tion of natural religion, or of pure theism, — but that the 
 identity of the characteristics of the divine procedure, ac- 
 cording to the discoveries of revelation, with those which 
 come before us in the constitution of nature and the course 
 of providence, affords a corroborative evidence of the truth 
 of revealed religion. In presuming to offer any strictures 
 on the moral system of such a man, I would be understood 
 as speaking with the sincerest diffidence. It does appear 
 to me, however, that his scheme is defective ; and that its 
 defectiveness arises from the same cause to which we have 
 been tracing the errors of others.* 
 
 * I feel the diffidence I have thus expressed the more becoming, 
 when I find, in a work published since this Lecture was delivered, 
 Bishop Butler's Sermons pronounced by an authority so eminent as 
 that of Dr. Chalmers, to contain " the most precious repository of 
 sound ethical principles extant in any language ; {Bridgewater 
 Treatise, Vol, I. p. 68.) and the writer himself designated " that 
 great and invaluable expounder both of the human constitution and 
 of moral science." {Ibid. p. 71.) Another high authority writes 
 in the following terms : — "There do not appear to be any errors 
 in the ethical principles of Bishop Butler. The following remarks 
 are intended to point out some defects in his scheme ; and even 
 that attempt is made with the unfeigned humility of one who rejoices 
 
108 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 It is not my present purpose to enter into detailed con- 
 sideration of the various personal and social virtues, as 
 they are analyzed in the discussions of this profound 
 writer, — or even of all the more prominent characteristics 
 of his system. The beautiful light in which he places 
 the question respecting the disinterestedness of the social 
 affections, we may have a future opportunity of noticing. 
 In the meanwhile, we have to do with his theory, only 
 in some of its still more general and fundamental 
 principles. 
 
 " There are two ways," says this eminent writer, " in 
 which the subject of morals may be treated. One begins 
 from inquiring into the abstract relations of the things ; 
 the other from a matter of fact, namely, what the particu- 
 lar nature of man is, its several parts, their economy or 
 constitution ; from which it proeeeds to determine what 
 course of life ic is which is correspondent to this whole 
 nature. In the former method, the conclusion is express- 
 ed thus, that vice is contrary to the nature and reason of 
 things ; in the latter, that it is a violation or breaking in 
 upon our own nature. Thus they both lead us to the 
 
 in an opportunity of doing justice to that part of the writings of a 
 great philosopher, which has not been so clearly understood, nor so 
 justly estimated, by the generality, as his other works." (Sir James 
 Mackintosh's Prelim. Diss. p. 345.) The sentences to which 
 the present note is appended, were also delivered before I had 
 perused Sir James's Dissertation. Like him, I have spoken of 
 Butler's moral system as defective more than erroneous ; although 
 I would not by this be understood to mean, that I regard it, when 
 tried by the test of Scripture, as in every one of its principles immac- 
 ulate. But even in speaking of the defects of such a thinker and 
 reasoner, although they may not be of the same description as those 
 specified by Sir James, I feel pleased to cover my seeming pre- 
 sumption under the sanction of so great a name. 
 
OF BUTLER. 109 
 
 same thing, our obligations to the practice of virtue ; and 
 thus they exceedingly strengthen and enforce each other. 
 The first seems the most direct formal proof, and, in some 
 respects, the least liable to cavil and dispute ; the latter 
 is, in a peculiar manner, adapted to satisfy a fair mind, 
 and is more easily applicable to the several particular 
 relations and circumstances of life."* The latter is the 
 principle on which the author proceeds in those of his 
 sermons, that are particularly devoted to this subject, as 
 well as throughout his "Analogy," and in the Treatise on 
 Virtue appended to it. 
 
 The scheme of Butler, indeed, bears a very J£"®^" f 
 close resemblance, in its leading principles, to JJ'J^ 6 ^ 
 that of the ancient Stoical school ; of which he Co- 
 adopts the phraseology, only attaching to it a Christian 
 commentary. It may be designated the system of Zeno 
 baptized into Christ. That system, you will recollect, 
 placed virtue in living according to nature ; nature, by 
 one class of its abettors, being understood generally, and 
 by another with restricted reference to the nature of man. 
 It is in this latter sense that the terms are to be interpret- 
 ed in the scheme of Butler. He repeatedly quotes, with 
 approbation, appropriating it to his own purpose, the lan- 
 guage of the ancients ; and pronounces their manner of 
 speaking, when they said that virtue consisted in follow- 
 ing nature, " not loose and undeterminate, but clear and 
 distinct, strictly just and true."f The object of his three 
 sermons " on human nature, or on man considered as a 
 moral agent," is (to use his own terms) " to explain what 
 is meant by the nature of man, when it is said that 
 virtue consists in following, and vice in deviating from 
 
 * Preface to Sermons, pp. 3, 4. t Pref. to Sermons. 
 
 10 
 
110 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 it ; and, by explaining, to show that the assertion is true." 
 " As speculative truth," he says, " admits of different 
 kinds of proof, so likewise moral obligations may be shown 
 by different methods. If the real nature of any creature 
 leads him, and is adapted to such and such purposes only, 
 or more than any other, this is a reason to believe the 
 author of that nature intended it for those purposes."* 
 Explanation To an objection which naturally suggests 
 phraseology, itself, and which he specifies as having actually 
 been made, namely, that " following nature" is a phrase 
 which " can hardly have any other sense put upon it but 
 acting as any of the several parts, without distinction, 
 of a man's nature happened most to incline him," and is 
 therefore " at best a very loose way of talk," — he replies, 
 with much, it is admitted, both of ingenuity and correct- 
 ness, by distinguishing between the parts and the whole 
 of any complex system. He thus instances in a watch. 
 The quotation is somewhat long ; but it presents a clear 
 and explicit view of the principle of his system : — 
 " Suppose the several parts taken to pieces, and placed 
 apart from each other ; let a man have ever so exact a 
 notion of these several parts, unless he considers the 
 respects and relations which they have to each other, he 
 will not have anything like the idea of a watch. Sup- 
 pose these several parts brought together, and anyhow 
 united ; neither will he yet, be the union ever so close, 
 have an idea which will bear any resemblance to that of 
 a watch. But let him view those several parts put 
 together in the manner of a watch ; let him form a 
 notion of the relations which those several parts have to 
 each other — all conducive, in their respective ways, to 
 * Serm. II. 
 
OF BUTLER. Ill 
 
 this purpose, — showing the hour of the day ; and then 
 he has the idea of a watch.- Thus it is with regard to 
 the inward frame of man. Appetites, passions, affections, 
 and the principle of reflection, considered merely as the 
 several parts of our inward nature, do not at all give us 
 an idea of the system or constitution of this nature ; 
 because the constitution is formed by somewhat not yet 
 taken into consideration, namely, by the relations which 
 these several parts have to each other ; the chief of which 
 is the authority of reflection or conscience. It is from 
 considering the relation which the several appetites and 
 passions in the inward frame have to each other, and 
 above all the supremacy of reflection or conscience, that 
 we get the idea of the system or constitution of human 
 nature. And from the idea itself it will as fully appear, 
 that this our nature, that is, constitution, is adapted to 
 virtue, as from the idea of a watch it appears, that its 
 nature, that is, constitution or system, is adapted to meas- 
 ure time. What in fact or event commonly happens, is 
 nothing to this question. Every work of art is apt to be 
 out of order : but this is so far from being according to 
 its system, that, let the disorder increase, and it will 
 totally destroy it. This is merely by way of explanation, 
 what economy, system, or constitution, is. And thus far 
 the cases are perfectly parallel. If we go further, there 
 is indeed a difference, nothing to the present purpose, but too 
 important a one ever to be omitted. A machine is inanimate 
 and passive ; but we are agents. Our constitution is put 
 in our own power. We are charged with it ; and 
 therefore we are accountable for any violation or disorder 
 of it-."* 
 
 * Pref. pp. v, vi. 
 
112 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 "Following nature," therefore, is not, in Butler's system, 
 to be understood as meaning, that we follow the present 
 impulse of every appetite or passion ; but that we follow 
 out the obvious dssign of that complex constitution, of 
 which conscience is the ruling power, — the grand moving 
 spring. In " an adequate notion" of man's nature there 
 must, as he expresses himself, be included, " that one of 
 the principles of action, conscience or reflection, compared 
 with the rest as they all stand together in the nature of 
 man, plainly bears upon it marks of authority over all the 
 rest, and claims the absolute direction of them all, to 
 allow or forbid their gratification ; a disapprobation of 
 reflection being in itself a principle manifestly superior to 
 a mere propension. And the conclusion is, that to 
 allow no more to this superior principle, or part of our 
 nature, than to other parts ; — to let it govern or guide 
 only occasionally in common with the rest, as its turn 
 happens to come, from the temper and circumstances one 
 happens to be in; this is not to act conformably to the 
 constitution of nature, unless he allows to that superior 
 principle the absolute authority which is due to it. And 
 this conclusion is abundantly confirmed from hence, that 
 one may determine what course of action the economy of 
 man's nature requires without so much as knowing in 
 what degree of strength the several principles prevail, or 
 which of them have actually the greatest influence."* 
 
 " Every bias, instinct, or propension within, is a real 
 part of our nature, but not the whole : add to these the 
 superior faculty, whose office it is to adjust, manage, and 
 preside over them, and take in this its natural superiority, 
 and you complete the idea of human nature. And as in 
 
 * Preface, pp. viii, ix„ 
 
OF BUTLER. 
 
 113 
 
 civil government, the constitution is broken in upon and 
 violated by power and strength prevailing over authority; 
 so the constitution of man is broken in upon, by the 
 lower faculties or principles within prevailing over that 
 which is in its nature supreme over them all."* 
 
 From these extracts you will readily perceive, in what 
 sense the nomenclature of Zeno is to be interpreted, when 
 adopted by Butler. With him, living "according to na- 
 ture" is the same thing with living according to con- 
 science ; conscience, in the complex constitution of the 
 human mind, being the legitimate ruling principle. — 
 Hence he says of man, that, " from his make, constitution, 
 or nature, he is, in the strictest and most proper sense, a 
 law to himself:" that "he hath the rule of right within," 
 and that " what is wanting is only that he honestly at- 
 tend to it:"f — and, in enforcing the authority of this 
 natural monitor, — " Your obligation to obey this law is 
 its being the law of your nature. That your conscience 
 approves of and attests to such a course of action, is 
 itself alone an obligation. Conscience does not only 
 offer itself to show us the way we should walk in, but it 
 likewise carries its own authority with it, that it is our 
 natural guide, — the guide assigned us by the Author of 
 our nature. It therefore belongs to our condition of be- 
 ing ; it is our duty to walk in that path and to follow this 
 guide, without looking about to see whether we may not 
 possibly forsake them with impunity." % 
 
 Now I entertain no doubt, that this is a Se " s f » 
 
 which true, 
 
 iust account of the original constitution of our a " d . 8 , en8e in 
 
 J ° which ques- 
 
 nature, — that such is the due subordination of tionabie. 
 its various powers and propensions, — such the legitimate 
 
 * Serm. III. t Serm. III. % Serm. III. 
 
 no 
 
114 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 order of their respective operations. But you can hardly 
 fail to have been sensible, how little reference there is, in 
 these representations, to the fallen condition and depraved 
 character of this nature. I am far from intending to in- 
 sinuate, that the fallen and degenerate condition of man 
 has no place in Butler's Theology. When treating, in 
 his "Analogy," of the economy of redemption by a Medi- 
 ator, he speaks of " the world's being in a state of ruin" as 
 " a supposition which seems the very ground of the Chris- 
 tian Dispensation," and argues, on this ground, the reason- 
 ableness, from the analogy of divine Providence, of the 
 scheme of mediatorial interposition. But he is one of those 
 to whom I have already alluded, as, in their reasonings 
 on morals, appearing at times as if they had forgotten the 
 characters of human nature which, on other occasions, 
 they have admitted : and I must be excused for adding, 
 that not only in this seeming forget fulness, but also in the 
 vague generality of the terms in which human degener- 
 acy is usually expressed, and in the statements given by 
 him of the influence of the Redeemer's atonement, and 
 of the conditions, on man's part, of acceptance with God, 
 there is evidence, that his impressions of the real amount 
 of this degoneracy, as existing in the moral state and 
 character of each individual man, were hardly adequate 
 to the unqualified and humbling representations of the 
 inspired volume. 
 
 In the extracts which have just been given from the 
 Bishop's Sermons, we are certainly, in a great degree, 
 allowed to lose sight of the present character of human 
 nature, and are left to suppose it, in its present state, such 
 as it was designed, by the Author of its constitution, to 
 be. The various parts of the watch are put together by 
 the skill of the artist, each in its proper place, and all 
 
OF BUTLER. 115 
 
 relatively adjusted to the production of a certain effect, — - 
 the correct measurement of time. So is it, according 
 to Bishop Butler's theory, with human nature. It is 
 "adapted to virtue" as evidently as "a watch is adapted 
 to measure time." But, suppose the watch, by the per- 
 verse interference of some lover of mischief, to have been so 
 thoroughly disorganized, — its moving and its subordinate 
 parts and powers so changed in their collocation and 
 their mutual action, that the result has become a constant 
 tendency to go backward instead of forward, or to go 
 backwards and forwards with irregular, fitful, ever-shift- 
 ing alternation, — so as to require a complete re-modeling, 
 and especially a re-adjustment of its great moving power, 
 to render it fit for its original purpose; — would not this 
 be a more appropriate analogy for representing the pres- 
 ent character of fallen man ? The whole machine is out 
 of order. The main-spring has been broken ; and an an- 
 tagonist power works all parts of the mechanism. It is 
 far from being with human nature, as Butler, by the 
 similitude of the watch, might lead his reader to suppose. 
 The watch, when duly adjusted, is only, in his phrase, 
 " liable to be out of order." This might suit for an il- 
 lustration of the state of human nature at first, when it 
 received its constitution from its Maker. But it has lost 
 its appropriateness now. That nature, alas! is not now a 
 machine that is merely " apt to go out of order; " it is out 
 of order ; so radically disorganized, that the grand orig- 
 inal power which impelled all its movements has been 
 broken and lost, and an unnatural power, the very oppo- 
 site of it, has taken its place ; so that it cannot be re- 
 stored to the original harmony of its working, except by 
 the interposition of the Omnipotence that framed it. 
 
116 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 The Bishop speaks of the legitimate supremacy of 
 conscience. — I shall not at present dispute the propriety 
 of the terms ; although I cannot but conceive that con- 
 science should rather be regarded as an arbitrator of le- 
 gitimacy amongst influential powers, than as the great 
 ruling power itself; that the supremacy amongst the le- 
 gitimate principles of action in the human constitution 
 should be assigned to a power more directly moral in its 
 own nature than conscience ; and that conscience itself, 
 if freed in its arbitration from corrupting influences, 
 would determine the supremacy on behalf of love to God, 
 and maintain the paramount rights of this principle. — 
 But, assuming the correctness of the Bishop's representa- 
 tion, what I have at present to say is, that, if human na- 
 ture be in a state of depravity, conscience, directly or in- 
 directly, must partake of that depravity. If it did not, 
 indeed, there could be no depravity. If the ruling power 
 were right, all would be right that is subordinate. But 
 where, 1 ask, in human nature now, is conscience, in the 
 highest department of its exercise, to which we have just 
 alluded 1 — where is " conscience towards God ? " What 
 are the results of its authority ? What the actual state 
 of things under its dictatorship 1 — Let the speedy and 
 universal loss of the original knowledge of the true God, 
 answer the question. Let the polytheistic superstitions of 
 heathenism, with all their fooleries, impurities, and ruth- 
 less cruelties, — let the sceptical theism, and the presump- 
 tuous atheism of philosophy, — let the manifest and 
 conscious ungodliness of the whole race of mankind, — 
 answer the question. 
 
 According to Butler, (and nothing can be more true,) 
 "wanton disregard and irreverence towards an infinite 
 
OF BUTLER. 117 
 
 Being, our Creator, are by no means as suitable to the 
 nature of man, as reverence and dutiful submission of 
 heart towards that Almighty Being." But an abstract 
 proposition as to essential fitness and propriety is a differ- 
 ent thing from a statement of fact. We ask, what is the 
 matter of fact, as to the operation of conscience in this 
 particular ? Has this presiding and ruling power in the 
 "nature of man" been found fulfilling its appropriate 
 function, inspiring right feelings, and dictating right 
 practice, towards the one blessed Object of reverence, and 
 love, and homage, and obedience? Does not the entire 
 history of our race, from the beginning hitherto, reply in 
 the negative? — And if conscience has failed here, we 
 must insist upon it that it has essentially failed in every- 
 thing. It has proved treacherous in regard to the very 
 first principle of all obligation ; and it carries the spirit of 
 this treason against God into the entire administration of 
 its perverted power, — Even in its dictates towards fellow 
 creatures, too, how sadly is it under the domination of the 
 appetites, and passions, and selfish desires! — how con- 
 stantly liable to be swayed and bribed to wrong decisions ; 
 and how much in danger are even its right judgments of 
 being set aside by the power of such interfering influ- 
 ences ! It may be, and incessantly is, tampered with in 
 a thousand ways. The question, therefore, on our present 
 subject, comes to be — how we can be sure of an unbiased 
 verdict; — and how, from a nature of which the princi- 
 ples are so disordered, and the aberrations, especially in 
 the highest and most essential of all departments, so pro- 
 digious, we can, with any assurance of correctness, ex- 
 tract the pure and primary elements of moral goodness. 
 
 It is not at all, whether conscience ought or ought not 
 to be the ruling power, and the appetites and desires, the 
 
IIS MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 affections and passions, in subordination to its authorita- 
 tive jurisdiction. This was the original state of things ; 
 and so long as this state continued, man, in "following 
 nature," followed a sure guide, — a guide, whose coun- 
 sels, intuitively discerned, were all divine. But when, in 
 a discussion like the present, we proceed on such a view 
 of human nature, our argument becomes purely hypo- 
 thetical. Human nature, in this view of it, has now no 
 existence. If it had ; — if it retained its original char- 
 acter; — if all were in the harmony of holy principle, and 
 under the direction of an inwardly presiding and never 
 resisted Deity; — we should require no discussions to de- 
 termine either the principle or the rule of moral obliga- 
 tion. But the question is, whether, in human nature, as 
 it now is, we have sufficient data, to warrant our assum- 
 ing it as a standard from which to ascertain the princi- 
 ples of rectitude. Here, in my apprehension, lies the 
 principal fallacy of Butler's system. Virtue, according 
 to him, consists in " following nature ; " but then the na- 
 ture to be followed is not the nature of man as it now is : 
 or, if it be, then, as formerly hinted, the conception enter- 
 tained by the theorist of the depravity of man as a fallen 
 creature, must have been far short of the scriptural repre- 
 sentation of it.* 
 
 Appeal of To Scripture, however, the appeal is actually 
 
 authority of made. The authority of the inspired Apostle 
 cnpture. ^ ^ Q ent ji es [ Q considered as decisive in favor 
 of the theory. The passage referred to is our text and 
 context — Rom. ii. 14, 15: — "For when the Gentiles, 
 which have not the law, do by nature the things con- 
 tained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note H, 
 
OF BUTLER. 119 
 
 unto themselves ; which show the work of the law writ- 
 ten in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, 
 and their thoughts the mean while accusing or else ex- 
 cusing one another." It will be necessary for us to con- 
 sider, with some little attention, what is the amount of 
 meaning in these remarkable expressions. 
 
 From the correspondence of the terms, "who Examination 
 show the work of the law written in their 
 hearts," with one of the promises of the New Covenant, 
 " I will write my laws in their hearts," as well as from 
 the difficulty which has been felt in applying such terms 
 to the persons of whom the Apostle himself had just 
 before drawn so dark and hideous a portraiture, — some 
 interpreters have conceived the whole passage to have 
 reference to converted Gentiles, — those in whom the 
 promise of the covenant, just quoted, had been graciously 
 verified. I shall not enter on any exposure of the fal- 
 lacy of this explanation, as I agree with Bishop Butler 
 in applying it to the heathen, and the discussion of the 
 other interpretation would only lead me away from my 
 subject. 
 
 All who are acquainted with this Apostle's writings 
 are aware, that, in speaking of unregenerate human na- 
 ture, he uses no gentle and measured terms. His unqual- 
 ified testimony is given in few words, but the words are 
 full of meaning : — they were adverted to, in a different 
 connection, in our last Lecture ; but require a little addi- 
 tional comment now : — " The carnal mind is enmity 
 against God; for it is not subject to the law of God; 
 neither indeed can be."* In the preceding context, he 
 had divided men into two descriptions : — those who " are 
 
 Rom. viii. 7. 
 
120 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 after the flesh," who " walk after the flesh," who " mind 
 the things of the flesh," — and those who " are after the 
 Spirit," who "walk after the Spirit," who "mind the 
 things of the Spirit." He recognizes no intermediate, no 
 neutral class; so that all who are not after the Spirit must 
 be numbered amongst those who are after the flesh. It 
 requires, indeed, but a glance at Paul's writings to satisfy 
 any candid mind, that with him, the distinction between 
 the flesh and the Spirit is the same as the distinction be- 
 tween unregenerate and regenerate human nature. 
 
 This "carnal mind," in different conditions, and under 
 the influence of various modifying circumstances, may 
 assume an almost endless diversity of aspects, some gross- 
 er, and others more refined: — but under all its modifica- 
 tions its generic character is " enmity against God," — 
 alienation of affection and desire from him. The evidence 
 of this enmity, is stated to lie in the fact of insubordina- 
 tion and disobedience, — "it is not subject to the law of 
 ■God ; " and the cause of the insubordination and disobedi- 
 ence is, reciprocally, affirmed to lie in the enmity, — alien- 
 ation from God and subjection to his law being necessa- 
 rily incompatible — "neither indeed can be" If, then, 
 the primary and essential principle of the divine law is 
 love to God, — and if the unregenerate mind is "enmity 
 against God," it must necessarily be in a very restricted 
 and qualified sense indeed, that the Apostle represents the 
 Gentiles as " showing the work of the law written in 
 their hearts." 
 
 When the promise of the New Covenant is fulfilled in 
 any sinner's experience, it is effected by Jehovah's giving 
 that sinner a heart to love him ; the transition in conver- 
 sion being, substantially, a transition from enmity to 
 love". — but, previously to this change, there is not in any 
 
OP BUTLER. 121 
 
 human heart the true principle of subjection to the law 
 of God. If, indeed, there were; if, in man's natural state, 
 the law were still, in anything like the proper import of 
 the expression, "written in his heart ; " if it were, as But- 
 ler says of it, "interwoven in our very nature;" — we 
 might ask, what would be the value of the New Covenant 
 promise ? If the law be already there, why engage to 
 write it there ? 
 
 How, then, it will naturally be asked, comes the Apos- 
 tle to say of the unenlightened Gentiles, that they " do by 
 nature the things contained by the law," and that, in so 
 doing, they " show the work of the law written in their 
 hearts?" I answer, that if there be a sense in which his 
 words can be understood, that is at once sufficient for the 
 purposes of his present argument, and consistent with his 
 statements elsewhere, this is the sense which ought to be 
 preferred. Now, when he says " the Gentiles, who have 
 not the law, do by nature the things contained in the 
 law," it is not necessary to his argument that he be un- 
 derstood as meaning either that they do all these things, 
 or that, with regard to any of them, the principles from 
 which they are done are such as to render the perform- 
 ance of them truly good and acceptable in God's sight. 
 It is enough for his argument, that, in their conduct, the 
 Gentiles do, in various ways, evince a sense of right and 
 wrong, — convictions in their minds of sin and dut} r . 
 That they have such convictions, such a sense of right 
 and wrong, is manifest, when, at any time, they pay re- 
 gard to the claims of humanity, of equity, of natural 
 affection, and of general benevolence, in opposition to the 
 contrary principles of injustice and selfishness. 
 
 On the mind and heart the law of God was originally 
 written; and although by the fall the impression of the 
 11 
 
122 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 divine hand writing has been mournfully defaced, it has 
 never been entirely obliterated. In regard, indeed, to 
 right dispositions, — to the primary principles of godli- 
 ness, — to true, spiritual, holy desires and affections, the 
 obliteration is complete ; no traces of the original charac- 
 ters remaining. But, however entirely the heart may 
 have lost the disposition to keep them, the dictates of 
 law itself have not been thoroughly erased from the 
 mind. 
 
 The conceptions of moral good and evil prevalent 
 among the heathen, have been erroneous and debased ; 
 and the erroneousness and debasement have originated 
 in the same cause with that to which the Apostle traces 
 their ignorance of God himself. The source of their dis- 
 like to "the only true God" was, the opposition of his 
 holy character to the pollution and earthliness of their 
 fallen nature : — and there is surely no room for wonder, 
 that the same depravity should have produced the perver- 
 sion and the partial oblivion of that law, which is a 
 transcript of his moral perfection. By all such voluntary 
 erasement of the law of God from their hearts, deep guilt 
 has been contracted. But still, as has been said, the 
 original impression is not gone : — and, while they wil- 
 fully act in opposition to the sense of right and wrong 
 which is yet in their minds, they continue tc " treasure up 
 unto themselves wrath against the day of wrath." And 
 that they do act thus perversely, the Apostle had before, in 
 the strongest terms, affirmed, — when, after enumerating 
 the abominations prevalent among them, he adds — "Who, 
 knowing the judgment of God, that they who commit 
 such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, 
 but have pleasure in them that do them." 
 
OP BUTLER. 123 
 
 The case, then, stands thus. The Gentiles "have not 
 the law." When, therefore, they are condemned, it can- 
 not be for the violation of a law which they have not. 
 But it must be the violation of some law; for "where no 
 law is, there is no transgression." They have a law ; a 
 law enforced by all that is made known of God in his 
 works and ways, and by all their daily experience of his 
 unwearied goodness. This law is the law of conscience, 
 the, natural convictions of right and wrong. The very 
 contrast, however, between the condition of those who 
 "sin without law," and are to "perish without law," and 
 that of those who " sin in the law," and are to be "judged 
 by the law," most convincingly shows, that, in the Apos- 
 tle's mind, the difference was very material, in extent, 
 and clearness, and certainty, between the dictates of the 
 law of conscience and those of written law, — of the 
 law of nature and the law of revelation. This is evi- 
 dent; and on our present subject it is most important. If, 
 in the present state of human nature, " the work of the 
 law were written on the heart," in the same extent, and 
 with the same clearness and certainty, with which it is 
 delivered in the divine word, not only would the need of 
 revelation be, in this respect, lessened, but the difference 
 in the amount of evil desert and of consequent condem- 
 nation and punishment, between those who " sin without 
 law," and those who " sin in the law," would so far be 
 obliterated : — it would cease to be imputable to a differ- 
 ence in the means of knowledge, and would arise entirely 
 from a difference in the kind and amount of motive. But 
 the whole scope of the Apostle's reasoning requires us to 
 consider it as produced by both. In regard to the former, 
 — the knowledge of the divine will, — I am aware of 
 the cause of the difference. It is a criminal cause. The 
 

 124 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 case is the same with regard to the knowledge of God's 
 will, as it is with regard to the knowledge of God him- 
 self. Had men " retained God in their knowledge," there 
 would have been no need for his using additional means 
 to make himself known; and had they retained the 
 knowledge of his will, they would not have required a 
 fresh promulgation of his law. But the knowledge of 
 God, and the knowledge of the will of God, have been 
 alike impaired by the entrance of sin and the blinding 
 power of depravity. The two, indeed, (as hinted in 
 last Lecture,) are so intimately connected, that whatever 
 affects the one must, in a similar way, and to a similar 
 extent, affect the other. It is impossible that there should 
 be a right knowledge of God's will, without a right 
 knowledge of God himself. The law of God being a 
 transcript of his moral character, where there is ignor- 
 ance of the character, there must be corresponding ignor- 
 ance of the law. We cannot imagine just impressions 
 of the law co-existing with grossly corrupt and unworthy 
 conceptions of the Lawgiver. There is, we may observe 
 accordingly, in the portraiture of heathenism delineated 
 in the first chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, a per- 
 fect correspondence between that part of it which re- 
 spects the knowledge of God, and that which relates to 
 tne conduct of life, — between its religion and is moral- 
 ity. The former stands thus: 
 
 " When they knew God, they glorified him not as God, 
 neither were thankful; but became vain in their imagin- 
 ations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing 
 themselves to be wise, they became fools, and changed 
 the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made 
 like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed 
 beasts, and creeping things. Who changed the truth of 
 
OF BUTLER. 125 
 
 God into a lie, and worshiped and served the creature 
 more than the Creator, who is blessed forever." * The 
 latter is given as follows: — "Forasmuch as they did not 
 like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them 
 over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are 
 not convenient: being filled with all unrighteousness, for- 
 nication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of 
 envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers, back- 
 biters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors 
 of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understand- 
 ing, covenant breakers, without natural affection, impla- 
 cable, unmerciful ; who, knowing the judgment of God, 
 that they who commit such things are worthy of death, 
 not only do the same but have pleasure in them that do 
 them." f 
 
 It is true, that, in the last of these verses, the Apostle 
 admits, and even asserts, the knowledge on the part of 
 the perpetrators of the enormities he had enumerated, 
 " that they who commit such things are worthy of death." 
 There remained, unless where conscience was thor- 
 oughly seared, natural convictions of right and wrong, 
 along with what may be called traditionary apprehen- 
 sions of that "death" which "the judgment of God" 
 had originally denounced against transgression. This 
 "judgment of God" men originally "knew," as they also 
 knew God himself. But just as after the entrance of 
 sin, they "did not like to retain God in their knowledge," 
 so neither did they, as they ought to have done, keep in 
 humble and self-controlling remembrance his judicial sen- 
 tence against evil. They rather chose to cast off all re- 
 straint. Instead of " striving against sin," they strove to 
 
 *Rom. i. 21 — 23, 25, t Verses 28 — 32. 
 
 •ii 
 
126 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 rid themselves of every check to the commission of it ; 
 and, pouring contempt on the threatenings of heaven, 
 and stifling the forebodings of their own minds, they not 
 only practiced those things which God had forbidden, but 
 delighted in all who would be their associates in rebellion 
 and wickedness. 
 Summary of There is a sense, then, let it be observed, in 
 
 the objection 
 
 to Butler's which I am far from obiectino- either to the 
 
 statements. ,''»'•-**»., 
 
 phraseology of Butler s system, or to the prin- 
 ciple which the phraseology involves, — that virtue con- 
 sists in living "according to nature." What we are ac- 
 customed to call the natural state of man, is, in truth, 
 the most unnatural the mind can conceive : — inasmuch 
 as there can be nothing more directly at variance with 
 the essential and immutable nature of things, than that 
 an intelligent creature should be in a state of alienation 
 from his Creator. But you will at once perceive, that, 
 whenever any such explanation as this is made, there is 
 a departure from the system, and a resolution of it into 
 another, — into that, namely, of essential and eternal fit- 
 nesses. For then, "living according to nature" comes to 
 signify, not living according to the nature of man as it 
 now is, but according to the general nature of things. 
 Between these two, — the nature of things and the na- 
 ture of man, there was at his creation an unjarring har- 
 mony. There was a perfect fitness in his nature to the 
 relations in which he stood to his Maker: — so that then, 
 acting according to his own nature was the same thing 
 as acting according to the essential nature of things. — 
 Now, the fault which, with all diffidence, I am disposed 
 to find with Butler is this, — that he professes to take 
 human nature as it is, expressly deducing the principles 
 of his theory from its present phenomena, — while yet 
 
OP BUTLER. \27 
 
 his "following nature," as his definition of virtue, does 
 not actually mean following it in its present degenerate 
 state, but according to the right order and legitimate sub- 
 ordination of its various principles, — which is the same 
 thing, in other words, with following it according to its 
 original, divinely imparted constitution, — I grant him 
 the correctness of his distinction between power and 
 Tight. No more in the constitution of human nature 
 than in the constitution of human society, is the former 
 the legitimate standard of the latter. There is, unques- 
 tionably, amongst principles of action, a distinction, in 
 nature and kind, quite independent of their relative 
 strength and actual prevalence. A usurper may depose 
 a rightful sovereign; but the superiority of his power 
 does not transfer to him the right to rule, or impart legiti- 
 macy to his usurpation. So may a principle of action 
 gain the ascendant in power, while it has not the ascend- 
 ant in right. Its power may be that of the usurper. 
 And I am aware that of Butler's theory the very funda- 
 mental principle is to be found in this distinction. To 
 follow nature, according to that theory, is not to obey 
 strength, but right ; not to yield subjection to whatever 
 principle happens, at the time, to have the superiority in 
 power, but to those which have the legitimate and perma- 
 nent superiority in kind. The distinction is just and im- 
 portant: — but still, "following nature" in this sense, is 
 not following it according to its present degeneracy, but 
 according to its original rectitude. 
 
 In stating the different senses of the word nature, the 
 Bishop himself writes, — " Nature is frequently spoken 
 of as consisting of those passions which are strongest, 
 and most influence the actions; which, being vicious 
 ones, mankind are in this sense naturally vicious, or vicious 
 
128 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 by nature. Thus St. Paul says of the Gentiles, who 
 were ' dead in trespasses and sins, and walked according 
 to the spirit of disobedience,' that they were 'by nature 
 the children of wrath/ They could be no otherwise 
 children of wrath by nature, than they were vicious by 
 nature."* — -This is the second of three acceptations of 
 the word which he mentions; and it is this especially 
 (the first being of little immediate consequence to our 
 present subject) that is contrasted by him with the third, 
 or that sense of it according to which the Gentiles "do 
 by nature the things contained in the law," "show the 
 work of the law written in their hearts," "are a law unto 
 themselves" 
 
 Every one, however, must instantly be sensible, in how 
 very limited a meaning of the terms they who are "vi- 
 cious by nature" can be said to "do by nature the things 
 contained in the law;" — or those in whom "vicious pas- 
 sions are strongest, and most influence the actions," to 
 " show the work of the law written in their hearts." Yet 
 with the same limitation, it is manifest, must they be un- 
 derstood to be "a law unto themselves." They have, 
 from nature and tradition, such a sense of right and 
 wrong, as to constitute a ground of responsibility: — and, 
 moreover, the degree in which this is deficient or pervert- 
 ed, is owing to the power and prevalence of a depraved 
 disposition of heart, and is, therefore, on the same ac- 
 count as forgetfulness and ignorance of God, in itself 
 criminal. " Following nature," therefore, is not following 
 nature as it is, but following it as it was, and as it ought 
 to be : — it is obeying, not the power that is actually 
 dominant, but the power that bore the sway originally, 
 
 * Serm. II. 
 
OF BUTLER. 129 
 
 and whose deposition from rightful authority is the result 
 and evidence of man's apostasy from God. 
 
 " If," says Butler, " we are constituted such sort of 
 creatures, as from our very nature to feel certain affections 
 or movements of mind upon the sight or contemplation 
 of the meanest inanimate part of the creation, for the 
 flowers of the field have their beauty: certainly there 
 must be something due to him himself who is the Author 
 and Cause of all things, who is more intimately present 
 to us than anything else can be, and with whom we have 
 a nearer and more constant intercourse than we can have 
 with any creature; there must be some movements of 
 mind and heart which correspond to his perfections, or 
 of which those perfections are the natural objects."* 
 
 If such language be meant to express the sentiment, 
 that as, by the present constitution of our nature, the 
 sight of the inanimate objects of creation awakens emo- 
 tions corresponding to their beauty, their sublimity, or 
 their other qualities, so does the contemplation of the per- 
 fections of Deity actually give rise in our bosoms to suit- 
 able feelings and affections towards him ; can any repre- 
 sentation be more at variance with those of the inspired 
 Apostle? If, on the contrary, the representation be 
 merely theoretical, implying no more than that there is 
 the same natural fitness in the character of Deity to pro- 
 duce in the heart of an intelligent creature the sentiments 
 of fear and love, as there is fitness in the beauties of cre- 
 ation to excite the feelings of admiration and pleasure, — 
 its truth will not be questioned ; but its inapplicability 
 must be manifest, to human nature in its present state, as 
 described in Scripture, *and exhibited in fact. 
 
 * Pref. to Serm. p. viii. 
 
130 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 If we admit the doctrine that "enmity against God" 
 is the essential character of fallen humanity, we can only 
 consider the fact that, whilst "from our very nature" we 
 are conscious of movements of mind corresponding to 
 the sights and sounds of inanimate creation, there is so 
 mournful a contrariety between the state of our hearts 
 towards God and the affections which his character is 
 really fitted to inspire, as the most striking and humilia- 
 ting exemplification that could well be presented of our 
 nature's moral degeneracy. There is, beyond all question, 
 a fitness in the attributes of the Godhead to engender in 
 our bosoms the sentiments of affectionate fear and rever- 
 ential love ; a fitness not less real or less perfect than the 
 fitness of sublimity to awaken awe, or of beauty to in- 
 spire admiration. That these sentiments are not engen- 
 dered, — that the infinite concentration of all excellence 
 is in fact, on the contrary, the object of aversion ; — this 
 is what constitutes the very essence of our moral debase- 
 ment and guilt. What is " due to Him who is the Au- 
 thor and Cause of all things " is one consideration ; what 
 is actually rendered to him is another. It is not from the 
 former but from the latter alone that the present state of 
 human nature is to be determined. That which was due 
 and that which was rendered, were originally the same ; 
 that which is due and that which is now rendered are 
 precisely opposite ; forget fulness for remembrance, irrev- 
 erence for fear, enmity for love! 
 
 Suppose, then, all to be admitted for which Dr. Butler 
 contends with regard to the obviously designed supremacy 
 of conscience in the constitution of human nature ; — 
 still, if this original constitution Jias been deranged ; if 
 other principles have gained the ascendency ; and if this 
 ascendency of the inferior principles over the superior is 
 
OF BUTLER. 131 
 
 not maintained in contrariety to the will or disposition of 
 the nature in which the usurpation has taken place, but, 
 on the contrary, it is the will or disposition itself which 
 has rebelled, and has laid conscience under arrest, so as 
 to silence its voice, and suppress its mandates : how can 
 these voluntary slaves of a self-imposed domination be 
 expected to give forth a fair ana' impartial statement of 
 the claims and requisitions of the rightful sovereign ? 
 How are we to get the law of conscience, with any 
 security of its correctness, from those who are the sub- 
 jects, by choice, of the law of appetite and passion ? — 
 Suppose we had no other source from which to derive our 
 notions of the moral character of God except the moral 
 character of man, taken simply as he now is ; should we, 
 on the principle of judging of an author by his works, 
 be able to deduce from the contemplation of the creature 
 the infinite purity and infinite goodness of his Creator 1 
 Most assuredly not. In the constitution of man's nature 
 originally, there were the clear and delightful indications 
 of both; but the aspects of his constitution now subject 
 our speculations on such subjects to the most distressing 
 and inextricable perplexity, — a perplexity which the 
 variety of philosophical sj^stems only renders the more 
 confounding and hopeless, and from which nothing can 
 satisfactorily deliver us but the discoveries of revelation. 
 When we take these discoveries along with Difficulties 
 
 „ . . -r ¥ Ti i • i inthephe- 
 
 us, all is consistent, vvhen mankind are re- nomenaof 
 garded as a race of apostate creatures, — the 
 world which they inhabit as a revolted province of God's 
 universal empire, — we have a principle which affords a 
 solution to all the perplexing difficulties that present 
 themselves in the phenomena of providence. In the past 
 history and the present condition of the world, we meet 
 
132 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 everywhere with two opposite classes of facts. There 
 are evils endured ; there are blessings enjoyed. Without 
 attempting at present to adjust the balance, and to settle 
 the disputed question of their relative proportions, — to 
 determine which of the two preponderates ; it is enough 
 for our present purpose to observe, that both the one and 
 the other, in large abundance and endless variety, are 
 incessantly obtruding themselves upon our notice. — In 
 attempting to account for this apparently anomalous 
 Unsatisfac- state of things. — to find a principle of recon- 
 
 tory solu- . . . ', • i • i 
 
 tionsofthem ciliation between these opposite and seemingly 
 contradictory sets of facts, we are not satisfied with the 
 Manichean theory, of two contrary presiding principles, 
 of good and evil, of benevolence and malignity, mani- 
 festing their respective natures in the exercise of their 
 respective dominions, mutually counterworking each 
 other, contending for the pre-eminence, and alternately 
 prevailing. However naturally such a conception might 
 be supposed to suggest itself to an ignorant mind, we 
 very soon perceive it to be pregnant with demonstrable 
 absurdity. Yet the ordinary philosophical solutions of 
 the difficulty are hardly more satisfactory. According to 
 these, the existence of evil is necessary to a state of moral 
 probation, — partial sufferings inseparable from the opera- 
 tion of general laws, — and their existence, in the present 
 constitution of things, designed, by the all-wise Author 
 of that constitution, to work out the largest amount of 
 good on the whole : — - the Sovereign Maker and Ruler 
 having an indisputable right to form such a world, to 
 give being to such an order of creatures as its inhabitants, 
 and to appoint to those creatures such conditions of ex- 
 istence as he saw meet ; — no creature having any title 
 to complain of the condition allotted to him, provided the 
 
 
OF BUTLER. 133 
 
 measure of good, either bestowed or placed within his 
 reach, preponderates over the evil; — and disease and 
 death having been admitted into the constitution of our 
 world, as useful and necessary parts of the great system 
 of moral influences, • — of modes of trial, and means of 
 improvement. Such theories have long appeared to my 
 mind quite as little satisfactory as the two principles, the 
 light and the darkness, the god and the demon, of Manes. 
 They all proceed on the unscriptural assumption, that 
 the present constitution of things in our world is the one 
 allotted to it by primary and sovereign appointment. 
 Such is the case, especially, with the ordinary s^eme of 
 
 . 'moral prooa- 
 
 scheme of moral probation. However plausible tion - 
 the lights in which it may be placed, — however captiva- 
 ting the attire in which it may be invested, it is the 
 offspring of error, or of very partial views of truth. Ac- 
 cording to it, physical evils are to be regarded as originally 
 designed, in the general arrangement of the system of 
 divine administration, for the trial and improvement of 
 moral principles. But, according to the statements of 
 Scripture, all physical evil is to be regarded as strictly 
 punitive, - — not in an}?- case a sovereign or arbitrary 
 appointment, but a judicial and penal infliction. That 
 moral principles are now tried by it, is true; but this was 
 not the primary purpose of its introduction. There was 
 no suffering, to try the principles of man, in his state of 
 innocence. It is as a sinner that he is a sufferer. He is 
 not now a creature on trial for life, but a criminal under 
 sentence of death. The period of man's probation, in 
 the strict acceptation of the term, is past : — it was 
 properly the time of his original innocence. It was then 
 that he was put upon trial, — upon trial for life or death. 
 Such probation there can never be again. Man now, 
 13 
 
134 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 while in his natural state, cannot, in strict propriety, be 
 regarded as upon trial; inasmuch as there would be 
 implied in this a possible alternative, — namely, that life 
 might still be attained, as well as death incurred. — an 
 alternative which, according to Scripture, was put out of 
 the question by the entrance of sin. 
 
 When, under the gracious administration of the gospel, 
 sinners are " renewed in the spirit of their minds," — 
 when by profession they have their places amongst the 
 spiritual children of God, they become again, though not 
 in the same sense as at first, subjects of probation. The 
 principles of the new life are then put upon trial ; — they 
 are subjected to practical tests, by which their reality 
 must be evinced, or their hypocrisy detected. But while 
 these principles are thus tried, and by trial improved, — 
 still, the sufferings are not inflicted in sovereignty; they 
 are all deserved. Though corrective, they are still puni- 
 tive. The very sin which they are designed to remove 
 is, at the same time, their cause. There is displeasure in 
 them as well as love. The scheme of probation to which 
 I am now objecting, is that which appears to forget the 
 true condition of the world as under a curse on account 
 of sin, and represents mankind as if they were even now 
 the subjects of an original constitution, and still pro- 
 bationary candidates for the curse or the blessing. And 
 of this scheme, although with occasional qualifications, 
 which bring it nearer to the representations of Scripture, 
 there is more than a sufficiency in the moral system of 
 Butler. 
 Tme soiu- g u t I w ish you now to look at those seemingly 
 
 tion accord- ^ ° 
 
 ingtothedis- contradictory phenomena of providence which 
 
 covenes of J r x 
 
 revelation, have been mentioned, and to compare them with 
 the Bible account of the actual condition of man as an apos- 
 
OF BUTLER. 135 
 
 tate subject of God's moral government. It is most interest- 
 ing and satisfactory to observe, how perfectly this account 
 tallies with the existing appearances. When we look at man 
 himself, at the world which he inhabits, at nature around 
 him, in as far as he comes at all into contact with it, or 
 bears any relation to it, — the scene that presents itself 
 to our view is precisely such as, even a priori, we might 
 have anticipated, under the government of such a Being 
 as Deity is in Scripture represented to be, — a Being who 
 is offended, yet kind, — judicially offended, but essentially 
 and unchangeably kind, — retaining unbounded benevo- 
 lence in the midst of righteous displeasure. Everywhere, 
 and at all times, we are environed with indications of the 
 latter : — and all the variety of suffering is at once and 
 more than accounted for, when it is regarded as the effect 
 and manifestation of offended righteousness, or of the 
 inevitable tendencies of sin under his just and holy 
 administration. All the "ills that flesh is heir to" (would 
 men but rightly consider them) are so many memorials, 
 incessantly reminding them of their being in a fallen 
 state, and of the place of their habitation being under a 
 curse. But then, the very Being by whom the curse has 
 been pronounced is good and gracious: — he has not re- 
 nounced the kindly tendencies of his nature ; he has not 
 divested himself of his infinite benignity ; he still " de- 
 lighteth in mercy." And, accordingly, on which side 
 soever we turn our eyes, ten thousand proofs of this also 
 are before us. While all the calamities which men hear 
 of, and see, and feel, remind them that the Being whom 
 they have offended is holy and just, a hater and a punisher 
 of sin ; yet all is not curse. The Sovereign Ruler " woos " 
 his erring creatures by his kindness as well as "awes" 
 them by his judgments : 
 
136 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 " though woo'd and awed 
 
 Bless'd and chastised, a flagrant rebel still." — Young, 
 
 Rebels as we are, we live in the very midst of his munifi- 
 cence. " The earth is full of his riches." " His tender 
 mercies are over all his works." Is not this mingled con- 
 dition of things, I ask you, precisely what we might 
 expect to find, under the administration of a justly offended, 
 but kind and merciful Being-, over a province of his do- 
 minions, which, though in a state of unnatural and base 
 revolt, he had not finally proscribed and abandoned ? — 
 sin, in ten thousand forms, sending up every instant to 
 the Eternal Throne, from all parts of the world, the call 
 for vengeance, and the inexhaustible and indomitable 
 goodness of Jehovah still lingering to smite, staying the 
 uplifted hand of Justice, and in spite of the desert of 
 punitive retribution, still " kind to the evil and unthank- 
 ful," still " making the sun to rise and the rain to descend" 
 on the " children of disobedience," filling with good the 
 mouth that, instead of speaking his praise, blasphemes 
 his name, and pouring showers of blessing on the soil 
 that yieids him nothing in return but briers and thorns t 
 But observe, my hearers: — In what is it, according to 
 this representation, that the indications are apparent of 
 the holiness and righteousness of the Supreme Governor ? 
 Is it in the moral character of the creature 1 — in its con- 
 formity to that of the Creator? How can it be? That 
 character is evil ; and evil in the work can never be the 
 index of good in the maker. The indications of this 
 part of the divine character are rather to be found in the 
 very sufferings which, on account of this evil, are judi- 
 cially inflicted on the sinning creature. In the character 
 of the creature himself we look in vain for the traces of 
 
OP BUTLER. 137 
 
 the holy purity of his Creator. In his original constitu- 
 tion these traces were marked and prominent; they 
 were not then mere traces indeed, they were the broad 
 lines and distinctive features of his character ; but in his 
 nature as fallen, even the traces of purity are lost. It is 
 not there that we can find them ; it is in the procedure 
 towards the degenerate creature of the God whom his 
 sins have offended ; — in his providence as interpreted by 
 his word, and in the scheme of redemption as there ex- 
 clusively revealed. And if, I repeat, in the present char- 
 acter of man considered abstractly from the divine conduct 
 towards him, the moral excellence of his Maker is not 
 discernible, — ever fruitless, surely, must be the attempt 
 to extract from the elements of that character a correct 
 delineation of the principles of moral rectitude. 
 
 Conscience, indeed as I have before admitted, does still 
 continue, in fallen human nature, as a witness in favor of 
 God and of his law. In the midst of what is wrong, it 
 bears testimony, with various degrees of clearness and 
 force, to what is right. But in the highest department of 
 all, its operation, we have seen, is partial, erroneous, 
 feeble, capricious, ineffectual. And, in addition to this, 
 it should be observed, that the moral character of man 
 consists, properly and directly, in his dispositions ; not in 
 the decisions of his judgment, but in the inclinations and 
 affections of his heart. Among these, conscience does 
 not at all rank. It has nothing in it, strictly speaking, 
 of moral goodness; its exercise implying no spiritual 
 taste or relish for true virtue, no disposition of mind to 
 delight in its essential beauty. "If," says Edwards, 
 44 conscience's approving duty and disapproving sin were 
 the same thing as the exercise of a virtuous principle of 
 the heart in loving duty and hating sin, then remorse of 
 *]2 
 
138 MORAL SYSTEM 
 
 conscience would be the same thing as repentance ; and, 
 just in the same degree as the sinner felt remorse of eon- 
 science for sin, in the same degree would his heart be 
 turned from the love of sin to the hatred of it, inasmuch 
 as they are the very same thing." The two things thus 
 distinguished have frequently, it is to be feared, been con- 
 founded, -*- the mere approbation of conscience with the 
 inclination of the will and choice of the heart. But the 
 operation of conscience is compatible with the absence of 
 every vestige of truly moral principle. This is manifest 
 from every day's observation of human character; and 
 there will be the most perfect exemplification of its truth 
 in the place of future woe ; where the clearest light of 
 conviction, and the acutest anguish of remorse, will 
 co-exist with the most unsubdued and inveterate aliena- 
 tion of heart from God and goodness. There can be 
 nothing, therefore, in strict propriety of speech, morally 
 good in conscience ; else there must be moral goodness 
 in hell. There, surely, although the holiness and righte- 
 ousness of the Divine Being are apparent in the punish- 
 ment and remorse of its inhabitants, we should never be 
 warranted in saying that in their moral character there is 
 a specimen or exemplification of the purity of his nature. 
 On the same principle, in proportion as men, while on 
 earth, are the subjects of depravity, and destitute of the 
 love of God and the sensibilities of moral rectitude, must 
 it be unreasonable to speak of them as presenting, in 
 their corrupt nature, an exhibition of the holy excellence 
 of their Creator. And although, in the remaining testi- 
 mony of conscience, " accusing or excusing," approving 
 the exercise of the moral affections and chastening the 
 neglect or violation of them, the Sovereign Ruler " has 
 not left himself without witness," — yet conscience, des- 
 
OF BUTLER. 139 
 
 ignate it as you will, and describe its functions as you 
 will, still, as belonging to a fallen nature, must participate, 
 directly or indirectly, in that nature's alienation from 
 God and goodness, and, on moral subjects, cannot with 
 confidence be depended upon for a sure and consistent 
 deliverance. 
 
 It would have been quite relevant to the subject of this 
 discourse, and might even have served to shed upon it a 
 clearer light, to have considered a little more at large, the 
 question, What is conscience ? The answer to this ques- 
 tion, however, will find an equally if not a more suitable 
 place in next Lecture, of which the general subject will 
 be, the Rule of Moral Obligation ; and the reservation of 
 it till then will also produce a more convenient division 
 of the two discourses in point of length. I waive it, 
 therefore, for the present, and conclude by simply assur- 
 ing my hearers, if such assurance be necessary, that I 
 have been anxious to avoid doing any injustice to a writer 
 of such merited celebrity as Dr. Butler ; and that, if in 
 aught it shall be brought to my conviction that I have, 
 however unintentionally, misrepresented his sentiments, I 
 shall be most happy to retract and erase the error. May 
 God, the only wise, and the source of whatever deserves 
 the name of wisdom to his creatures, " lead us into all 
 truth ;" so that " in his light we may see light ! " 
 
LECTURE V. 
 
 ON THE RULE OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 
 
 1 John III. 4. 
 " Sin is the transgression of law." 
 
 In the review which has been taken, in former Lec- 
 tures, I have left unnoticed various systems of morals, 
 with their respective varieties and modifications, partly to 
 avoid repetition and tediousness, and partly because the 
 applicability to them of the general principles which it 
 was my object to establish, is, without particular illustra- 
 tion, sufficiently apparent. — Let us now see whether we 
 can arrive at anything more satisfactory. 
 
 I must recall your attention to the distinction, stated in 
 the outset, between the pri?tciple or foundation, and the 
 rule or law, of moral rectitude. The latter is simply the 
 authoritative direction by which the conduct of the sub- 
 ject of any government is to be regulated ; the former is 
 that, whatever it may be, in the prescribed action itself, 
 or in its tendencies and effects, on account of which it is 
 that the governor enjoins it. I shall begin with the con- 
 Reason for sideration of the rule or law. To some this 
 
 beginning 
 
 rlrfentther m ^ a PP ear somewhat preposterous, the order 
 thantke f discussion not being in conformity to the 
 
 principle. ° * 
 
 natural order of subsistence ; inasmuch as the 
 
RULE OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 141 
 
 principle must precede the rule, — and the consideration 
 on account of which a law is enacted, commanding one 
 kind of conduct and prohibiting its opposite, must be pri- 
 or to the law itself; I prefer this method, however, first, 
 because the law, if I may so express myself, lies nearest 
 to us, and is that with which we have most immediately 
 to do : — and secondly, because, by the consideration and 
 satisfactory settlement of this point, we may be the better 
 prepared for ascending to the higher and more abstruse 
 investigation of the original principles of moral rectitude, 
 the primary and essential elements of virtue. 
 
 My feeling on this subject is similar to that which I 
 have ever experienced in regard to another, of a different 
 nature — the decrees of God. On that subject, it has 
 always appeared to me our best and our only legitimate 
 course, not to begin with the purpose, and reason forward 
 to the event, but to begin with the event, and reason back- 
 ward to the purpose ; — renouncing all vain and presump- 
 tuous attempts to go back in the first instance into eterni- 
 ty, and to read the mind of Deity in its own light, rather 
 to look to what the Divine Being has done, and thence 
 to ascertain, in all cases in which he has not himself 
 made them previously known, his everlasting counsels. ~- 
 So, in regard to moral obligation. If, by any legitimate 
 process, we can ascertain the law by which human agen- 
 cy is to be regulated, this may be an assistance to us in 
 our endeavors to trace the eternal principles, if such there 
 be, on which this law is founded. We shall thus pursue 
 a course, not only more becoming the modesty of created 
 intellects, so liable to be bewildered and lost in indefinite 
 abstractions, but at the same time more likely to conduct 
 us to a satisfactory conclusion, 
 
142 RULE OF 
 
 q££ for With regard, then, to the rule, or standard, 
 ascertaining by which human conduct ought to be regu- 
 
 the rule ; ^ o o 
 
 whetherman lated, and conformity to which is virtue, it ar> 
 
 be a subject J J 
 
 of God's pears to me, that there is one fundamental 
 
 moral gov- A 
 
 emmeut. question, the answer to which leads immediate- 
 ly to its determination : — it is the simple question, wheth- 
 er man be indeed a subject of the government of the 
 Deit y ? — - Now, I am not going to enter into any proof, 
 either of the existence of one God, or of his sustaining 
 the character of Moral Ruler of the universe. These are 
 points which I must be permitted to assume, as settled 
 data, — points on all hands conceded by those who enter 
 into any discussions on the nature and obligations of vir- 
 tue. Yet, if the moral government of God be granted, 
 and the consequent subjection of man to that govern- 
 ment, it evidently follows, as an instant and unavoidable 
 sequence, without even a single link of intermediate rea- 
 soning, that the rule by which his conduct is to be regu- 
 If -S e S c *v the lated must be — the will of the Supreme 
 
 will of the 
 
 supreme Governor.- — The question with regard to the 
 
 Governor x ° 
 
 miisibe his wa y or ways in which that will is made known 
 to his subjects — how they are put in posses- 
 sion of the rule or law — is quite a distinct inquiry. As 
 a general and primary principle, it is to my mind axiom- 
 atically evident, that the rule or law of the subject's con- 
 duct can be nothing else than a declaration, in what way 
 soever imparted, of the will of the sovereign Ruler. The 
 The two propositions, indeed, that man is a subject of the 
 Divine Governor, and that the will of the Divine Gov- 
 ernor is his law, 1 cannot but regard as of identically the 
 same import. If there be a God, and if man, as a moral 
 and responsible agent, be the subject of his government, 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 143 
 
 I confess myself unable to imagine any answer but one 
 to the question, What is the rule by which he is to act, 
 and by which he is to be tried ? — the answer, namely, 
 which has just been given — the supreme will. I have 
 no idea of arriving at this conclusion by a circuitous 
 process of argumentation. The evidence of it seems to 
 me to be involved in the evidence of the divine existence. 
 If there be a God, he must rule ; and if he rules, his will 
 must be law. 
 
 The higher inquiry, — what it is by which that will 
 itself is determined,- — is not the question for the creature, 
 considered simply as a subject of God's dominion. The 
 difference, in this respect, must be veiy manifest, between 
 the divine government and all the governments of men. 
 In the latter, the subjects may have a voice in the framing 
 of their own laws. This indeed is the case in all gov- 
 ernments, where any portion is enjoyed of the precious 
 blessing of liberty ; — absolute power being more than can 
 safely be entrusted to any hands but those of the Divine 
 •Being himself; — perilous even in the hands of an un- 
 fallen and sinless creature; and, in those of a creature 
 whose nature is under the sway of corrupt principles and 
 passions, one of the most tremendous of the curses of 
 offended Heaven. But the government of the Most High 
 God it were impiety even to think of as otherwise than 
 uncontrollably absolute. There is no will superior to the 
 divine ; and the very imagination, however transiently 
 admitted into the mind, that any of his subjects should 
 have aught to say in determining the laws by which they 
 are to be bound and tried, would be nameless presump- 
 tion. — Under any other government than his, we cannot 
 too strongly deprecate the idea of the will of the govern- 
 
144 RULE OP 
 
 or being law ; but under his, whence but from himself 
 can the law be conceived to come ? * 
 mate e fiquir- To me > t ^ ien ' ^ a PP e ars, that, in all theories 
 ries respect- f m orals, in as far as the law or rule of duty is 
 
 lug the rule, J 
 
 shouWreiate concerned, the only legitimate inquiry is ^— what 
 
 to the means J ° * - -•' 
 
 of ascertain- j s the true way, or (if there be more sources 
 
 ing the Di- J * ■ \ 
 
 vine will. f information than one) what are the true 
 ways, of ascertaining, with certainty and correctness, the 
 will of the Supreme Legislator 1 When, on this part of 
 the subject, these theories attempt anything else than a 
 satisfactory answer to this question : — when they pro- 
 ceed, or seem at all to proceed, upon the assumption that 
 a law may possibly exist and be discovered, — whenceso- 
 ever the discovery may be sought — superior to this will, 
 and independent of it; — I can regard them in no other 
 light than as founded upon a basis of atheism. 
 
 If these principles be at all correct, — and to me they 
 appear entitled to rank amongst first truths, self-evident 
 elementary principles, — it must follow, that in any sub- 
 ject of God's moral government virtue must consist in 
 conformity to this will. Recollect, 1 am not now speak- 
 ing of the foundation of moral rectitude, or of the ques- 
 tion (whether we be competent to find an answer to it or 
 not) why is the divine will what it is? I am speaking 
 solely of the rule or law of duty for his dependent and 
 accountable creatures. And in this view, it is not only 
 our safest ground, — it is our only legitimate and reason- 
 able ground, — that the virtue or moral rectitude of a 
 
 * It has been beautifully said by Dr. Clarke, " Governing ac- 
 cording to law and reason, and governing according to will and 
 pleasure, are on earth the two most opposite forms of government; 
 while in heaven, they are nothing but two different names for one and 
 the same thing." 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 145 
 
 subject of God's moral government consists in conformity 
 of principle and conduct, of heart and life, to the will of 
 the Governor; a Governor who is necessarily supreme, 
 and whose will, to all his intelligent creatures, is infallible 
 and unimpeachable law. 
 
 That such is the light in which this subject ^3®"^. 
 is invariably represented in the Scriptures, no 
 reader of them, how superficial soever, can fail to per- 
 ceive. The comparison of the words of our text with 
 three other statements equally brief, will bring out, clearly 
 and summarily, the doctrine of revelation on this interest- 
 ing point. The statement of our text is, that " sin is the 
 transgression of law" This, then, is the Bible definition 
 of sin, or moral evil. The other statements, analogous to 
 this and arising out of it, are Rom. iv. 15, — " Where no 
 law is, there is no transgression ;" Rom. v. 13, — " Sin is 
 not imputed where there is no lata ; " and Rom. hi. 20,. — 
 " By the law is the knowledge of sin." These four short 
 sentences, or Scripture aphorisms, when connected togeth- 
 er, present a view as clear as it is concise, of the divine 
 mind respecting the rule of moral duty and moral, respon- 
 sibility to man. If " sin is the transgression of law," the 
 consequence is immediate, that, law and transgression 
 being correlates, where there is no law there can be no 
 transgression of law, and consequently no sin; — that 
 where there is no sin there can be no imputation of sin, 
 no guilt, no condemnation, no punishment ; and that, in 
 proportion to our knowledge of the law of which sin is 
 the transgression, must be our knowledge of the amount 
 of sin in ourselves, or in others ; nor can there, on the part 
 of the creature, be any knowledge of sin at all, but in as 
 far as the law is known of which sin is the transgression. 
 And what is most immediately to our present purpose, 
 13 
 
146 RULE OP 
 
 the passages cited, which are only a brief statement of 
 principles that pervade the whole volume of revelation, 
 teach us the lesson, that sin is not by us to be sought for in 
 contrariety to any abstract principles of right and wrong, 
 — principles, which it is necessary for us, before we can 
 know wherein and to what extent we have erred, to inves- 
 tigate and discover : — it is simply " the transgression of 
 law," — that is, I need hardly say, of the law of God. 
 And, in conformity with this representation, sin and diso- 
 bedience, sinners and the disobedient, are, throughout the 
 Scriptures, invariably employed as designations of inter- 
 changeable use, because of synonymous meaning. And, 
 on the grounds already very briefly adverted to, this appears 
 to be not only the dictate of Scripture, but, as every dictate 
 of Scripture must equally be, the sound philosophy of the 
 case ; inasmuch as the philosophy that would attempt to 
 go above God on the one hand, or, on the other, to frame 
 a law for his creatures independently of him, we must, in 
 either case, pronounce unworthy of the name, and lay it 
 under reprobation, as only the proud presumption of 
 "science falsely so called." 
 
 tothe m n a iJ s ^he mc l lur J> then, which next presents itself 
 ner of dis- f or our consideration, relates to the manner in 
 
 covering the ' 
 
 Divine will. w hich the Divine will is made known. How 
 do men obtain acquaintance with the rule or law by 
 which their conduct is to be regulated and tried ! Has the 
 Divine Governor given to the human race any full and 
 infallible discovery of it ? To this question I answer at 
 Answer to once , with all confidence, leaving the objections 
 
 the question, ' D J 
 
 and to the an( j sneers of philosophy to be afterwards dis- 
 
 pnncipal ob- *..'*•' 
 
 jectiontothe posed of, — He has ; — and it is to be found in 
 
 answer. L # a- 
 
 the volume of divine revelation. This we affirm 
 to be the only complete and absolutely sure discovery of 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 147 
 
 the mind and will of the Divine Being to man. The 
 answer may seem a very common-place one ; but I am 
 satisfied it is the only one in accordance with truth. I 
 am aware of the special exception put in against it by 
 philosophers, — that nothing can be acknowledged as the 
 rule or standard of virtue to mankind, with which so 
 limited a portion of mankind are acquainted. The stand- 
 ard, they allege, must be something universal, — some- 
 thing of which all men are equally in possession, or to 
 which, at least, all have equal access ; it being unreason- 
 able to suppose, that the law, by which all are to be tried, 
 should be a law known only to a few. The objection, I 
 grant, is a very natural one, and one which, stated in 
 such a form, appears insuperable : for how is it possible, 
 that a book should be the standard of duty to the millions 
 of men into whose hands it has never come ? A little 
 attention, however, to the true state of the case will not 
 only remove the difficulty, but will serve still further to 
 show, on how many points, in our investigation of such 
 subjects, the doctrine, formerly adverted to, of the fallen 
 condition of man, is found to bear. This, I repeat, and 
 repeat most emphatically, is the fundamental article of 
 difference between the philosophy of the schools and the 
 philosophy of the Bible, — between the science of the 
 wise men of this world, and the divine science of Proph- 
 ets and Apostles, — that man is not now what he original- 
 ly was. 
 
 AH the great difficulties on the subject under discus- 
 sion, and the one which I have now mentioned among the 
 rest, will be found, with hardly perhaps a single excep- 
 tion, to resolve themselves into this one point. Let us 
 look at the case. We are accustomed to say, in terms 
 before adverted to, that the law of God was originally 
 
148 RULE OF 
 
 written on man's heart. The expression is figurative ; 
 but the figure is quite sufficiently intelligible and explicit. 
 We mean by it, that, along with a perfect knowledge of 
 the character of his Maker (perfect, that is, in kind, for 
 to be perfect in degree it must have been infinite) and a 
 corresponding knowledge of his. will, as arising out of 
 that character and in conformity to it, he had also in 
 regard to the divine will, a perfect disposition to do it, — 
 a perfect accordance, in all his inclinations, with the 
 principles of rectitude, as subsisting in that infinite nature, 
 in the image of which his own had been formed. The 
 manner in which his mind possessed its information of 
 the will of God, upon which the disposition developed 
 itself, we may not be able distinctly to apprehend. From 
 the very change that has passed upon the moral consti- 
 tution of our nature, and our consequent total want of 
 experience of the consciousnesses of a sinless soul, the 
 particular mode of Divine intimation to the mind of the 
 first man may to us be in some degree a secret. But it is 
 enough for us to know, that he possessed a full and in- 
 tuitive discernment of right, and that the perception of 
 duty and the delight in it were, in the very constitution 
 of his nature, inseparable, — subsisting there in unjarring 
 and blessed harmony ; — no discrepancy between the dic- 
 tates of the understanding and the desires of the heart, — 
 the illumination of the one, and the warmth of the other, 
 ever in unison and in proportion, blending together, like 
 the rays of light and the rays of heat flowing in undis- 
 tinguishable combination, from the same sun. The 
 principles of rectitude were perfect in his soul, and the 
 influence of them was perfect in his life. 
 
 But man (the same inspired record informs us how) fell 
 from this state of pristine purity and bliss. He sinned ; 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 149 
 
 and his nature, in consequence, became degenerate, des- 
 titute of its original holy sensibilities, — of that perfect 
 love of God, which, in its original constitution, was the 
 essential element of all moral goodness, being itself a 
 complacent delight in infinite untainted excellence, by 
 which the derived purity of the creature held the most 
 intimate communion with the underived purity of the 
 Creator — the happy soul filling itself with joy from the 
 exhaustless " fountain of life." Enmity having taken 
 the place of this love, the spring of moral purity in the 
 heart having become polluted, the conduct of man in 
 regard to the original law of duty, underwent a most 
 material change. Not that there was any alteration, 
 either in the principles and requirements of the law itself, 
 or in the obligations of the subject to render to it a full 
 obedience ; — the change related to the state of his knowl- 
 edge of the law, as that knowledge was affected by the 
 disposition of his heart towards it. In consequence of 
 the latter, the former became dark, confused, and uncer- 
 tain. No longer the object of complacency and holy 
 desire, it was in danger either of entire expulsion from 
 the mind, or of mutilation and corruption, through the 
 influence of earthly appetites and depraved affections in 
 biasing and perverting the judgment. 
 
 Did philosophers believe what divine revelation testifies, 
 with regard to the difference between the original and the 
 present condition of man, they would at once perceive, 
 that, had man continued what he was at his creation, 
 the difficulty regarding the universality of the rule of 
 moral rectitude could never have arisen ; it would have 
 been all along universal, and by all the members of the 
 human family perfectly understood, perfectly approved, 
 perfectly love I, and perfectly practiced ; and that the con- 
 *13 
 
150 RULE OF 
 
 trary of all this, the sad result of the entrance of sin, has 
 been the very cause which rendered the revelation neces- 
 sary. The loss of the knowledge of God himself, of 
 whose moral nature the law was a fair transcript on the 
 heart of his holy creature, has been owing entirely to 
 moral causes ; and, in as far as it exists, the loss of the 
 knowledge of his will has had the same origin. Both 
 the one and the other belong to man's indictment as a 
 transgressor. Instead of telling in his favor as an apolo- 
 gy for his sins, they stand against him as leading counts, 
 among the charges of his guilt. 
 
 We cannot admit the view which some have taken 
 of revelation, as if it were no more than a republication of 
 the law of nature, — even understanding by the law of 
 nature the law written on man's heart in his pristine in- 
 nocence. The revelation contained in the Scriptures is 
 addressed to men as sinners against God ; and its grand 
 design is, not to make known the way of obedience, but 
 to make known the way of recovery from a state of diso- 
 bedience, — of restoration, by pardon of sin and renovation 
 of heart, to the forfeited favor and the lost image of God. 
 Still, however, the law is there. It is there for the pur- 
 pose of convincing men of sin and showing them their 
 need of mercy ; and it is there, as the rule of life to those 
 by whom the mercy revealed in the gospel is accepted. 
 Its uses are, to constrain men, by a right view of their 
 exigencies, to believe, and then to regulate the life of the 
 believer. But, since there cannot be two laws, — two 
 different rules of duty, — the moral law of revelation is 
 the same with the moral law in the heart of the first 
 man ; and so far this department of revelation may be 
 allowed to be a republication of the law of nature. The 
 special discoveries of the gospel present new and peculiar 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 151 
 
 motives to obedience, • — motives which make their appeal 
 to the obligations under which saved sinners lie to the 
 mercy that has saved them. But in the great principles 
 of moral rectitude, revelation makes no change ; and the 
 specialities of duty which it inculcates will be found no 
 more than the modified exercise, -— the exercise modified 
 by the circumstances in which men are placed by the 
 gospel, — of those great principles. 
 
 When, therefore, against revelation being admitted as 
 the standard of rectitude and the rule of moral duty to 
 man, the objection is urged that revelation is not universal, 
 the objector forgets that the principles of virtue contained 
 in revelation are the same with the principles of virtue as 
 originally subsisting and operating in the human heart ; 
 and that the sole reason why these principles are not uni- 
 versal, is the fallen and guilty state of man. It is man's 
 own blame, therefore, that they are otherwise. There lay 
 upon the righteous Governor no obligation to republish 
 them, — to give to creatures, in a state of voluntary alien- 
 ation from himself, an inspired and accredited manifesta- 
 tion of his will ; and where there was no obligation to 
 give it at all, there could be no obligation to make it uni- 
 versal. The fact of the limited diffusion of revelation 
 may be pleaded by philosophers, if they will, among the 
 considerations which throw doubt on its pretended au- 
 thority; — it maybe introduced among the objections to 
 its claims. But, on the supposition that this and other 
 objections are overruled, and that the contrary evidence — 
 the evidence in favor of revelation — is found sufficient to 
 establish those claims; — then the fact in question, on 
 whatever principles we account for it, by whatever con- 
 siderations we remove or mitigate the mystery that envel- 
 opes it cannot, with any shadow of fairness, be pleaded 
 
152 RULE OF 
 
 
 as a reason for excluding it, when thus authenticated, 
 from being received as the true standard of morals ; the 
 true standard, because containing a discovery of the same 
 will, which formed the inward law of man's original in- 
 nocence. 
 
 I cannot, however, as we pass along, resist the tempta- 
 tion to dwell, for a few moments longer, on the fact just 
 adverted to, that this new discovery of the will of God 
 as the law of duty to man, is not the only, nor indeed the 
 chief part and purpose of the revelation. Had it been a 
 mere republication of the law, unaccompanied by any 
 provision, either for the remission of human guilt, or for 
 the restoration to human nature of the principles of obe- 
 dience, might it not with justice have been regarded as 
 i a curse rather than a blessing ? For, in these circum- 
 
 stances, what alone could have been its effect? If the 
 maxim be true, that "by the law is the knowledge of 
 sin," the clearer discovery of the rule of duty could have 
 answered no other end than to bring before the mind of 
 every sinner that obtained it the fuller view of the amount 
 of his guilt ; — to muster in more appalling array before 
 his conscience, the host of his trespasses; — and, by aug- 
 menting his consciousness of delinquency, at once to ag- 
 gravate his present distress, and deepen the gloom of his 
 prospective terrors : — and, while it offered no means of 
 pardon, and consequently imparted no hope, what moral 
 effect could be expected to arise from the explicit mani- 
 festation of the law, in all the extent of its requisitions 
 and sanctions, while the heart was allowed to remain in 
 its native and acquired hostility to its principles? — what 
 effect, but to awaken a suspicion of cruel vindictiveness 
 on the part of the Lawgiver, as a being who, in such a 
 publication, could have no other end in view than to 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 153 
 
 "torment before the time" the objects of his threatened 
 wrath ; to exasperate, by such suspicion, the virulence of 
 the inborn enmity against him; and, in a frightful extent, 
 to realize that indignant spurning of restraint, and scorn 
 and defiance of the barriers of authority, which is men- 
 tioned by the Apostle as one of the characteristic tenden- 
 cies of human depravity, — "Sin, taking occasion by the 
 commandment, wrought in me all manner of concu- 
 piscence?" 
 
 But, as I have said, the mere exhibition of law is not 
 the object of divine revelation. Law, it is true, is exhib- 
 ited ; the will of God is disclosed ; — the principles and 
 requirements of divine morality are authoritatively stated ; 
 and the terrific sanctions are announced, by which they 
 are guarded. But all this is merely in subserviency to 
 the main design. That design is a design of mercy. It 
 is to restore fallen immortals, for the perpetuity of their 
 being, to their forfeited honor and happiness, to the divine 
 favor and to the divine likeness ; — and, while it sets forth 
 anew, in all its fullness and peremptoriness of the de- 
 mands, the primitive standard of morals, to recommend 
 and enforce conformity to it by such new exhibitions of 
 the character of God, in all its holy sublimity and attrac- 
 tive loveliness, as are divinely fitted at once to awe and to 
 win the froward heart. 
 
 It will very reasonably be asked, what, in re- Condition, 
 
 J J on the pnn- 
 
 gard to responsibility, is the condition of those jjpies k id 
 who have not this revelation? — Their respon- answer, of 
 
 those who 
 
 sibility, we say in reply, must of course corres- are destitute 
 
 * . * . of revela- 
 
 pond to the means they possess of acquaintance tion. 
 with the rule of duty. We have seen it affirmed in this 
 revelation itself, that "sin is the transgression of law," 
 and that "where no law is, there is no transgression." 
 
154 RULE OF 
 
 Have they, then, no law ? If they had not, it would fol- 
 low, that they could have no sin, and could not be the 
 subjects of any sentence of condemnation. I cannot task 
 your patience with any repetition of what was advanced 
 on this subject in last Lecture, when we were comment- 
 ing on the theory of Dr. Butler. A few additional sen- 
 tences must suffice. 
 
 Under the administration of the same divine Ruler, it 
 is manifest, as already hinted, that there can be only one 
 moral law for the whole community of mankind. Right 
 and wrong, in their great essential principles and require- 
 ments, do not vary with climate, locality, condition, or 
 time. They are the same to all. The difference in re- 
 gard to responsibility, wheresoever it exists, does not arise 
 from a difference in the law, but from a difference in the 
 means and opportunities of knowing it, and in the nature 
 and amount of motives by which it is enforced. This is 
 the principle laid down by the divine Author of Chris- 
 tianity: — " That servant who knew his Lord's will, and 
 did commit things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with 
 many stripes ; but he that knew not," (that is, had not 
 the same means and the same measure of knowledge, for 
 the absence of all knowledge and all means of knowl- 
 edge would have nullified accountableness,) "and did 
 commit things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few 
 stripes; " -— and the same is the principle of the passage 
 in the Epistle to the Romans formerly adverted to > — "As 
 many as have sinned without law shall also perish with- 
 out law ; and as many as have sinned in the law shall 
 be judged by the law." Men shall be judged and pun*- 
 ished, that is, according to their means of knowing God's 
 will ; they who enjoy the written law, or revelation of 
 that will, having a heavier load of guilt, and a propor- 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. I5& 
 
 tionally severer verdict, than those who have not possess-* 
 ed this privilege. 
 
 That the law of revelation, and the law of nature and 
 conscience, are substantially the same, the context of the 
 passage last cited clearly implies : — M When the Gen- 
 tles, who have not the law," (the written law,) " do by 
 nature things contained in the law," (the same written 
 law,) "these, having not the law, are a law unto thenv 
 selves," — not certainly a law different from the other, 
 but the same law, known in another way, and in an in- 
 ferior degree. — For the degree in which the Gentiles 
 knew not God, "they were without excuse,' ' because the 
 means of knowing him were sufficient, had there been a 
 right disposition or state of heart. For the degree in 
 which they knew not the will of God, they were in like 
 manner without excuse, because the means of knowing 
 it were also sufficient, had there been a right disposition 
 or state of heart. Their ignorance both of God and of his 
 will, and their practical atheism and wickedness of char- 
 acter rendered revelation necessary, though in no respect 
 a boon which they were entitled to claim. It was crim- 
 inal ignorance, containing in it not only no ground of 
 title to privilege, but no excuse for disobedience. Spring- 
 ing from moral causes, it had itself in it the evil of 
 its source. 
 
 The sum of all this is: — that man was ori- Sum of the 
 ginally in full possession of the knowledge of answer, 
 the divine will, as the rule or law of duty, and that a dis- 
 position in accordance with this will was (if I may so ex- 
 press myself) inwoven with the very texture of his moral 
 constitution : — that in this his original state, the dictates 
 of conscience might, with unhesitating assurance, hav 
 been taken as the test and standard of moral rectitude : — 
 
156 RULE OP 
 
 that since, by throwing or? his allegiance, man became a 
 sinful creature, the knowledge of his Maker's will has not 
 been entirely obliterated, but, in consequence of the oblit- 
 eration of the disposition to do it, has become so sadly 
 defaced and confused in its characters and impressions, 
 that, although it still leaves him, as a subject of moral 
 government, intelligent and accountable, it has been ren- 
 dered, as a standard of right and wrong, incompetent and 
 unsatisfactory, itself requiring to be rectified : — that the 
 Holy Scriptures, coming from the same Being who was 
 the Author at first of man's moral nature, are, with 
 respect to the rule of duty, in precise harmony with the 
 dictates of conscience in that nature, in its state of primi- 
 tive innocence, — the law in the book being the same as 
 the law then in the heart : — and that the way to bring 
 mankind back to the knowledge of the original law, and 
 to correct the dictates of a depraved and erring con- 
 science, is to put them in possession of this divine doc- 
 ument. 
 
 Nature and j k ave sa ^ little hitherto about the nature of 
 
 functions 
 
 of Con- conscience. A few observations in answer to 
 
 SCIENCE. 
 
 the questions, What is it 1 and What are its 
 peculiar functions ? may perhaps serve to throw some ad- 
 ditional light on preceding speculations ; — and may, es- 
 pecially, tend to show how it is, that, being liable to the 
 biasing influence of the depraved dispositions of the 
 heart, its testimony on the present subject is not infalli- 
 kl e> — not, by any means, to be taken, without reserve. 
 On this subject, then, I may be permitted, in the first in- 
 stance, to cite a paragraph or two from Discourses, pub- 
 lished several years ago, on the important topic on which 
 we have now been slightly touching, the responsibility of 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 157 
 
 the heathen. I am the rather desirous to introduce this 
 citation, because the statements which it contains have, 
 to a certain degree, been misapprehended, and require a 
 little additional explication. 
 
 " I have often," it is there said, — "I have often, for 
 my own part, in thinking of this subject, been at a loss to 
 conceive what conscience can include in it, beyond the 
 exercise of the judgment in the particular department of 
 morals. Even those who speak of it as if it were some- 
 thing different, or something more, are at the same time 
 accustomed to use language about it, that will hardly ap- 
 ply to it in any other view. They employ the common 
 phrases. They speak of the decisions of conscience ; — of 
 conscience being well or ill informed , and of these deci- 
 sions being more or less enlightened and just, according 
 to the information it possesses. When we speak of the 
 pain which an awakened conscience inflicts, — what 
 more do we mean than the pain which arises from the 
 conviction, brought home to the mind, of our having done 
 wrong 1 The pain will be various in degree, according 
 to the clearness and force of this conviction ; according 
 to the apprehension which the mind has of the intrinsic 
 evil of sin in general, and of the nature and circumstan- 
 tial aggravations of the particular transgression. The 
 consciousness of the wrong done is not the pain, but the 
 cause of the pain. When the Apostle Paul says, — ' Our 
 rejoicing is this, the "testimony of our conscience, that in 
 simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, 
 but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation 
 in the world ; ' he does not mean to identify the testimony 
 and the joy, but by a common mode of speech, to assign 
 the one as the cause of the other. In the same way, it 
 was the testimony of conscience in Felix, — it was the 
 14 
 

 158 RULE OP 
 
 conviction, forced upon his judgment, of the enormity 
 of his crimes, that made him ' tremble ' under the faithful 
 warnings of the preacher of ' righteousness, temperance, 
 and judgment to come.' The consciousness was not the 
 trembling, nor the fear which the trembling indicated ; 
 it was the cause of both. 
 
 " We speak of conscience slumbering ; and we oppose 
 to this figurative phrase that of an awakened conscience. 
 We mean by the former, that when the disposition to evil 
 hurries on a person in a course of worldliness and vice, 
 the mind is kept from thinking ; reflection and anticipa- 
 tion are alike repressed ; there is no alarm, because there 
 is no considerate thought; and this banishment of thought, 
 which at first might require an effort and the use of vari- 
 ous subsidiary means, becomes itself habitual by the in- 
 fluence of the progressive habit of evil-doing. The con- 
 science, again, is awakened, when, by any alarming 
 event, or powerful pleading, or whatever else may have 
 the tendency to rouse, the mind is startled, and made to 
 think ; the claims of religion and virtue, of God and of 
 the soul, are forced upon its notice ; the infatuation and 
 the damning tendency of sin, and the awful certainties of 
 death and judgment, and eternity, are, in spite of its 
 natural and contracted unwillingness to think of them, 
 pressed upon its view. And the vividness of the conse- 
 quent emotions will correspond with the clearness of the 
 mind's perceptions, and the strength of its convictions and 
 impressions. It must be obvious, however, that if there 
 be any one case in which the judgment is in danger of 
 being perverted by the disposition or inclination, — of 
 having its dictates biased or silenced, — it is in mat- 
 ters of moral right and wrong ; where duty presents itself 
 under the aspect of the effort and pain of self-denial, and 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 159 
 
 its opposite under that of the ease and pleasure of self- 
 indulgence. It is thus that conscience is tampered with, 
 and its remonstrances overcome. It discharges its func- 
 tions as a pmiisher of evil, much more efficiently than as 
 a preventer ; chastising by subsequent remorse, more fre- 
 quently than it hinders by previous restraint, But wheth- 
 er this simple view of the nature of conscience, as a mod- 
 ification of the judging faculty, or rather as that faculty 
 itself exercised in a special department, — be correct or 
 not, the argument of the Apostle is not in the least affect- 
 ed by either its soundness or its error. Whatever view 
 we take of it, and by whatever name we call it, its office 
 is to bear inward testimony to the good or the evil of our 
 thoughts, and words, and actions." 
 
 In this simple view of conscience, as the exercise of the 
 judgment in the department of morals, I seem to be sup- 
 ported by the authority of the eminent prelate, on whose 
 moral system I have, in a former Lecture, been venturing 
 to comment: — "There is," says Bishop Butler, "a 
 principle of reflection in men, by which they distinguish 
 between, approve and disapprove, their own actions. We 
 are plainly constituted such sort of creatures, as to reflect 
 upon our own nature. The mind can take a view of 
 what passes within itself, its propensions, aversions, pas- 
 sions, affections, as respecting such objects, and in such 
 degrees ; and of the several actions consequent thereupon. 
 In this survey it approves of one, and disapproves of 
 another, and towards a third is affected in neither of these 
 ways, but is quite indifferent. This principle in man, by 
 which he approves or disapproves his heart, temper, and 
 actions, is conscience : for this is the strict sense of the 
 word, though sometimes it is used so as to take in more."* 
 
 * Sermon I. 
 
160 RULE OP 
 
 It appears sufficiently obvious, that, to constitute a "prin- 
 ciple of reflection," there is no occasion for any faculty 
 additional to the understanding or judgment. " Reflecting 
 upon our own conduct;" — " taking a survey of what 
 passes within the mind, its propensions, aversions, pas- 
 sions, and affections," and of " the actions consequent 
 thereupon ; " — " distinguishing between them ; — approv- 
 ing one and disapproving another;" — are all evidently 
 intellectual or judicial acts. The Bishop, indeed, speaks 
 of conscience as if it were a distinct " principle " in man ; 
 but in the description which he thus gives of its functions, 
 there is nothing to which the judgment is not perfectly 
 competent. He intimates that the term is sometimes 
 used in a looser sense, as " taking in more ; " but he 
 conceives the " strict ' cceptation of it to be exhausted 
 in his description. It has by many been regarded as 
 " taking in more." Yet, if we set aside the idea of a 
 moral sense in the strict acceptation of the term, as used 
 by Dr. Hutcheson, the differences will be found to be 
 more about the proper use of words than about the actual 
 operations of the mind, — to be questions more of nomen- 
 clature than of truth. 
 
 To the view given of conscience as being no more than 
 "judgment exercised in the department of moral duty," it 
 has been objected, by a sound moralist and an acute meta- 
 physician, that, " the operations of conscience are con* 
 fined to ourselves," whereas, " the faculty of judgment in- 
 cludes others within the range of its decisions." " My 
 judgment," says Dr. Payne, " pronounces the conduct of 
 a friend to be wrong, but it cannot be said that my con- 
 science condemns him." This is perfectly true. But it 
 ought, in such a discussion, to be previously understood, 
 that, when we speak of conscience, we are speaking of 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 161 
 
 what has for its proper province our own conduct : and 
 the the only question is, whether it includes more than 
 the exercise and decision of judgment within that 'prov- 
 ince. A simple analogy may illustrate this. It is by 
 sight and touch that I acquire a knowledge of the form 
 and features of my own person; — it surely does not fol- 
 low, that there must be something more than sight and 
 touch to give me this knowledge, because it is by sight and 
 touch that I acquire also a knowledge of the forms and 
 features of the persons of others. In like manner, it does 
 not follow from its being " my judgement that pronounces 
 the conduct of a friend to be wrong," that it must be 
 something more than my judgment that pronounces my 
 own conduct to be wrong. 
 
 The correctness of the analogy is not impaired by the 
 mere circumstance of our having a peculiar term to ex- 
 press the exercise of judgment in the all-important depart- 
 ment of our own conduct, while we have none for the 
 observation of our own persons. To offer such an objec- 
 tion is, as I have said, to reduce the question to one of 
 mere nomenclature ; to one that respects, not the true 
 mental process, but the proper definition of a word in our 
 vocabulary. The importance of the former is incompara- 
 bly greater than that of the latter. And, in regard to the 
 former, it appears to me that there exists little if any dif- 
 ference between the view I have given of conscience, and 
 that which is taken by Dr. Payne himself. I am inca- 
 pable of discovering any material discrepancy between 
 the actual process of mind, as described by him, and as 
 described by me : — " When we speak of the pain," I 
 have said, " which an awakened conscience inflicts, what 
 more do we mean than the pain which arises from the 
 conviction, brought home to the mind, of our having done 
 *14 
 
i: 
 
 I :/ 
 
 
 162 RULE OF 
 
 wrong? The consciousness of the wrong is not the pain, 
 but the cause of the pain." " Remorse," says Dr. Payne, 
 " is that dreadful feeling of self-accusation and condem- 
 nation, which arises upon the retrospect of our guilt. — It 
 is combined with, or presupposes, a perception of crimi- 
 nality, and consequently a knowledge of the standard by 
 which actions are weighed ; but remorse itself is, strictly 
 speaking, the vivid feeling of regret and self-condemna- 
 tion, which is consequent upon this intellectual state of 
 mind:" and again, — "By an original law of the mind, 
 self-approbation or self-condemnation arises, as an individ- 
 ual conceives himself innocent or guilty, whether that 
 conviction be " well or ill-founded." Between these rep- 
 resentations, and •' the pain which arises from the convic- 
 tion, brought home to the mind, of our having done 
 wrong," I am unable to discern any more than a verbal 
 difference. Substantially, the statements are the same. 
 
 The mental process, therefore, being precisely alike, it 
 comes, as I have said, to be a question -of nomenclature 
 merely, — whether the term conscience should be used to 
 signify the faculty which decides upon the right or wrong 
 of the action ; or to denote the susceptibility of the con- 
 sequent emotion, — of what Dr. Payne denominates 
 moral regret on the one hand, and moral gladness on the 
 other; or whether it should not be inclusive of both. 
 What I have said of it proceeds on the first of these 
 views ; Dr. Payne adopts the second, defining conscience 
 to be " the susceptibility of experiencing those emotions 
 of approbation or of disapprobation and condemnation, 
 which are awakened by a retrospect of the moral demer- 
 it, or the moral excellence, of our own conduct." Ac- 
 cording to this definition, conscience has nothing to do 
 with the previous decision on the right or wrong of our 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 163 
 
 conduct : — that is a matter of judgment ; and conscience 
 is only the susceptibility of consequent emotions.* I have, 
 on the other hand, regarded conscience as the determin- 
 ing faculty, — the faculty that decides on the right or the 
 wrong of our conduct : and, on this assumption, have 
 identified it with judgment. I cannot think it right to 
 exclude from the province of conscience the determining 
 of right and wrong : I may, at the same time, be in error, 
 in limiting its province to this alone. — Perhaps the third 
 of the views mentioned, which considers conscience as 
 partaking of both, — including the faculty of determin- 
 ing, and the susceptibility of pleasurable or painful emo- 
 tions, may be nearer to correctness than either, being more 
 in accordance with all the customary phraseology respect- 
 ing its operations. — But this difference, allow me to re- 
 peat, about the application of- a term, makes no differ- 
 ence as to the actual mental process. That is, in all 
 cases, the same. All that I would be understood to mean 
 is, that there is no need for multiplying our faculties ; and 
 that, in the operation of conscience, when considered as 
 the determiner of right and ivrong, there is nothing more 
 than an exercise of judgment upon our own conduct. 
 We judge ourselves to have done right, or to have done 
 wrong ; and we experience the feelings accordingly, of 
 self-satisfaction, or of remorse. — These* feelings (as for- 
 merly stated) are not the conviction, but the effects or 
 results of the conviction. 
 
 There are certain feelings which naturally arise from 
 a right or a wrong course when adopted by us in other 
 
 * Sir James Mackintosh says, in coincidence with this view, 
 " Judgment and reason are therefore preparatory to conscience, not 
 
 properly a part of it." — Prel. Diss. p. 393 Notes and Illustra- 
 
 trations, Note I. 
 

 
 164 RULE OP 
 
 
 departments, which, although in some points essentially 
 different, are yet so far akin as to afford an illustration 
 sufficiently appropriate to our present purpose. We set 
 about the construction, I shall suppose, of some machine ; 
 we expend upon it no inconsiderable amount of thought, 
 and time, and labor, and expense ; and when it is finished 
 and brought to the trial, it turns out a failure. We im- 
 mediately discover, that the failure is owing to our hav- 
 ing overlooked the application of a particular principle, 
 and that principle, it may be, a very simple and obvious 
 one. The discovery of this omission is of course an act 
 of the understanding. We judge ourselves to have acted 
 stupidly. We are instantly conscious of corresponding 
 emotions. We are ashamed; we are angry with our- 
 selves ; we feel a painful regret for the loss, not only of 
 time, labor, and expense, but of professional reputation, 
 which we have incurred ; and, if we have it not in our 
 power to remedy the failure, our self-reproaches are pro- 
 portionally bitter, and our lamentations vehement. 
 
 Now, I grant the difference to be essential between the 
 regret that arises from an intellectual error, and the re- 
 morse consequent upon a moral delinquencjr, but the dif- 
 ference lies rather in the things themselves by which the 
 feelings, respectively, are produced, than in the mental 
 process regarding them. -In the one case, I judge myself 
 to have acted stupidly; in the other, I judge myself to 
 have acted immorally : — in the one case I judge myself 
 to have violated, with a senseless inadvertency, the prin- 
 ciples of mechanical science ; in the other, I judge myself 
 to have transgressed, with a reprehensible selfishess, the 
 principles of moral obligation : — in the one case, I am 
 sensible of exposure to certain effects which are painfully 
 injurious to my interest and - to my reputation amongst 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 165 
 
 men ; in the other, of exposure to certain effects arising 
 from my responsibility, not to men merely, but to *God. 
 Is there, in the two cases, any material diversity in the 
 order of mental operations ? Or is there any greater dif- 
 ficulty, in understanding the cause or origin of the pain 
 in the one case, than that of the pain in the other ? In 
 both cases, is not the conviction of error an operation of 
 the judgment ? — and in both cases, is not the pain simply 
 the effect of the conviction, differing in its nature, just in 
 as far as in the one case the conviction is that of an in- 
 tellectual error, and in the other of a moral delinquency? 
 What has inspired the agonizing horrors of conscience 
 that have sometimes been consequent on the perpetration 
 of some deed of peculiarly flagrant enormity, — that have 
 wrung with torture, and agitated with phrenzy, the un- 
 natural parricide, or the murderer of helpless age and un- 
 suspecting innocence ? Has it not been, in a special 
 manner, the conviction in the judgment of responsibility 
 to a Supreme Avenger, whose all-seeing eye no secresy 
 can elude, and whose omnipotence no created power can 
 withstand ? If such a preacher as Paul could have "rea<- 
 soned of righteousness and temperance," apart from 
 "judgment to come," would Felix have trembled ?• And 
 to what, accordingly, has the wretched victim of remorse 
 and dread his recourse? Does he not try, by every 
 means in his power, to banish the thought of this Being 
 and of the judgment-seat from his mind, - — or, by all the 
 plausibilities of sophistical argument, to reason himself 
 out of the conviction of the Divine existence and of hu- 
 man responsibility ? The emotion being the product of 
 the conviction, could he but eradicate the conviction, he 
 would rid himself of the emotion, 
 
166 RULE OF 
 
 It may possibly contribute to illustrate the views we 
 have thus been taking of the operations of conscience, 
 to consider for a few moments the question, — What is 
 conscience in a sinless creature ? or, in other words, What 
 was conscience in man while in his state of innocence ? 
 
 — That during that period man was the subject of con- 
 sciousness, it were a puerile truism to affirm ; all that is 
 meant by consciousness being no more than the mind's 
 knowing and feeling itself to be in any particular state, 
 whether of sentiment or of emotion : — and it was of 
 course an impossibility that the mind of Adam should be 
 in the state of holy sentiment and blissful emotion which 
 were the characters of paradise, without his being aware 
 of it ! There was then a perfect identity between his 
 judgment of rectitude and God's ; and an identity equally 
 perfect between his disposition towards it and God's. He 
 knew this ; he felt this. Is there any need for supposing 
 more than this knowledge and this feeling, with the 
 blessed habitude of soul thence resulting ?- Suppose we 
 were to affirm the existence of conscience, what should we 
 express by it ? What would be the province of the new 
 faculty 1 We have already an enlightened understanding 
 and a' pure heart ; — perfect knowledge and perfect love ; 
 
 — a right judgment and a right disposition. This was 
 the image of God ; — light and love, — light in the mind, 
 and love in the heart. What need, — nay, I think I may 
 ask, what possibility, of any higher presiding and regu- 
 lating principle 1 Is it not enough that there is a right 
 disposition, under the guidance of a right judgment ? — 
 that love rules, under the direction of light ? Is anything 
 more requsite, to account for the phenomena ? Is any- 
 thing more really possible ? Should we not be only in- 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 167 
 
 troducing a new term, without any really new power ? - — 
 " It may be questioned," says a writer of merited celebri- 
 ty, " whether the inhabitants of worlds unvisited by evil, 
 how enlarged soever their intelligence may be, have 
 thought of asking What is virtue? or What is the lib- 
 erty of a moral agent?"* The same thing, I should 
 think, may be said, with equal or with even greater truth, 
 of the question, What is conscience ? 
 
 And when man fell, — is there any necessity for sup- 
 posing the introduction of a new faculty? To account 
 for the new phenomena, — for his shame, and fear, and 
 flight, — is anything more required than his knowing 
 that he had done wrong, — his judgment pronouncing 
 sentence upon his conduct, as a violation of the will of 
 his Creator, his Benefactor, his God ? He could not be 
 in this new state of guilt and alienation, any more than 
 in the previous one of innocence and love, without his 
 being aware of it, without his knowing and feeling it : — 
 nor could he be thus aware of it, without such emotions 
 arising in his heart as those which the sacred narrative 
 ascribes to him. When we say that his conscience told 
 him he had done wrong, what is the process of mind 
 which our words express ? Is it any more than that, from 
 his previous knowledge of his Maker's will, and of the 
 terms of the divine covenant with him, he now knew 
 that he had violated that will, that he had broken that 
 covenant, that God was offended, that the sentence of 
 death was incurred, that "all was lost?" And was not 
 the thought of all this, — of the fearful transition he had 
 made, — of an alienated God and a self-inflicted doom of 
 
 * Introd. Diss, to Edwards on the Will, by the author of the 
 Nat. Hist, of Enthusiasm. 
 
168 RULE OF 
 
 perdition, enough to account for the agony of remorse, 
 the burning of indignant shame, and the trembling ap- 
 prehension of encountering the eye, or hearing the voice? 
 of Him whom he could no longer meet in love, — no 
 longer as a benignant and smiling Father, but as an in- 
 censed and avenging Judge? 
 
 When the tempter held forth to our first parents the 
 seductive allurement of "the knowledge of good and 
 evil," as what would assimilate them to God, and what 
 had, on this very account, been by him withheld from 
 them, he knew well that he was presenting, under the 
 mask of a tempting good, the greatest of possible ills, — 
 an experimental acquaintance with that, of which " ig- 
 norance was bliss." It was then, I should apprehend, 
 that the operation of what is usually denominated con- 
 science properly began. It is a term which, in its cus- 
 tomary use, belongs rather to the vocabulary of man's 
 fallen, than of his unfallen nature. I say " in its cus- 
 tomary use." I do not mean that in the state of para- 
 disaical innocence there was not the " mens sibi conscia 
 recti," — an inward approving testimony of conformity to 
 God's will, and a feeling of responsibility to him. But 
 there was no contrary testimony of existing evil, and 
 nothing of the pain of accusation and chastisement: — 
 there were no wicked propensities, against which con- 
 science had to remonstrate, nor any crimes for which it had 
 to inflict its vengeance. There was the simple and happy 
 consciousness of good ; — restraint and correction were 
 unfelt. But these are the operations to which the term is 
 most frequently applied, or which are most generally 
 thought of when it is used. Its operation, at any rate, in 
 its twofold capacity, was unknown till sin entered ; and 
 probably, till then the conception of it could hardly be 
 
Moral obligation. 169 
 
 TSaid to have a definite subsistence. It is the " knowledge 
 of good and evil ; " not a distinct or new faculty, but the 
 judgment exercised upon our conduct, and discerning in 
 it between right and wrong ; bearing testimony for God, 
 and rendering men "without excuse," when, from the in- 
 fluence of corrupt desires and affections, they suppress, 
 pervert, or resist its intimations ; and destined, on the one 
 hand, by its clear and damnatory dictates operating upon 
 an alienated heart and an unsubdued will, to be the chief 
 and everlasting tormentor of the finally disobedient, — 
 whilst, on the other, when, from a mind enlightened by 
 the divine Word, and a heart freed by the Divine Spirit 
 from the biasing and deceiving influence of a rebellious 
 disposition, its dictates are sincerely obeyed, it becomes, 
 by its inward approving testimony, a spring of the purest 
 satisfaction and joy. 
 
 The emotions of self-satisfaction on the one hand, and 
 remorse on the other, may be, but are not necessarily, 
 transient. They may last for a shorter or a longer pe- 
 riod; they may be permanent inmates of the bosom. 
 The continuance of these feelings, respectively, arises of 
 course from the existence of memory, which cherishes 
 the remembrance of the good, and which will not allow 
 us, how fondly soever we would, to forget the evil, 
 " Conscience," saj^s Dr. Brown, " is our moral memory ; it 
 is the memory of the heart." We remember the evil 
 deed ; the conviction of its evil nature attends the recol- 
 lection, as it attended the commission of it; and the re- 
 morse attends the conviction, so long as memory continues 
 to retain the fact. This is what has usually been termed 
 the haunting of conscience. 
 
 When, to show the difference between conscience and 
 judgment, Dr. Payne says, as quoted above, " My judg- 
 15 
 
170 RULE OP 
 
 ment pronounces the conduct of a friend to be wrong, but 
 it cannot be said that my conscience condemns him;" we 
 have seen in what sense the statement is true, and how, 
 at the same time, as bearing upon his object, it is falla- 
 cious. If conscience, indeed, is to be considered as at all 
 including in its appropriate function the determination of 
 right and wrong, — then it seems to me to be a self-evi- 
 dent truth, that the same faculty of mind which pro- 
 nounces the sentence of right or wrong on the actions of 
 others, must necessarily be that which pronounces similar 
 sentence upon our own. If it be judgment in the one 
 case, it must be judgment in the other ; the sentence 
 not depending on the person by whom the action is done, 
 but on the nature of the action itself. 
 
 The subsequent emotions, however, are necessarily differ- 
 ent: — "The emotions," says Dr. Brown, "with which we 
 regard the virtues or vices of others, are very different from 
 those with which we regard the same virtues or vices as 
 our own. There is the distinctive moral feeling, indeed, 
 in both cases, whether the generous sacrifice or the ma- 
 lignant atrocity which we contemplate be the deed of 
 another, or our own heroic kindness or guilty passion : 
 but in the one case, there is something far more than 
 mere approbation, however pleasing, or mere disapproba- 
 tion, however disagreeable. There is the dreadful moral 
 regret, arising from the certainty that we have made our- 
 selves unworthy of the love of men, and the approbation 
 of God." 
 
 But, diverse as these subsequent emotions appear to be, 
 they are, after all, very nearly akin. In the case of moral 
 disapprobation of the deed of another, there is a rising in- 
 dignation at the author of the atrocity, the guilty violator 
 of moral principle. And what is the "moral regret" that 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 171 
 
 springs from the consciousness of wrong in our own con- 
 duct 1 What is it but a rising indignation, of which we 
 are ourselves the objects % an indignation, proportioned to 
 the magnitude of the crime, and of the forfeiture incurred 
 by it ; a rankling bitterness of self-reproach, such as at 
 times may rise to phrenzy, and, arming the hand with the 
 weapons of self destruction, may plunge the perpetrator 
 into the woes of eternity, to escape the agonies of time. 
 
 The whole of the customary phraseology on the sub- 
 ject of conscience, both in the writings of philosophers 
 and in every-day life, is framed upon the assumption, wit- 
 tingly or unwittingly, that, whatever else it may be con- 
 sidered as including, it involves, as its first elementary 
 operation, the application of the judgment to the moral 
 character of our own actions. And on this ground, we 
 revert to our former position, that, in determining the 
 principles of moral rectitude, we cannot place any assured 
 confidence in a judgment that is liable to all the biasing 
 and perverting influences of depraved affections, and that 
 has, in so many instances, some of them, in their nature 
 and results, of very serious magnitude, given evidence of 
 the power of these influences over its decisions. 
 
 The Apostle speaks of conscience as "bearing wit- 
 ness;" but it is a witness-bearer of unsteady principle,— 
 exposed, in many ways, to the influence of bribery and 
 corruption, ever ready to give a false verdict, to flatter 
 men in the indulgence of their worldly and vicious incli- 
 nations, and even to give a perverse and mischievous 
 direction to principles that in themselves are good. — 
 There is, for example, a "zeal for God," that is "not ac- 
 cording to knowledge." Saul of Tarsus was conscien- 
 tious in persecuting and wasting the church of Christ. 
 "I verily thought with myself," says he, "that I ought to 
 
172 RULE OF 
 
 do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Naza- 
 reth : " — and his case was but one out of many exempli- 
 fications of the fulfilment of the Savior's premonition to 
 his Apostles, — " They shall put you. out of the syna- 
 gogues; yea, the time cometh, when whosover killeth 
 you will think that he doeth God service." What was 
 there, in all this, but a perverted judgment ? And where- 
 in, then, lay the guilt 1 It lay in the moral causes from 
 which this perversion arose, and by which it was main- 
 tained. In Saul, it was the product of all that, in human 
 nature universally, stands opposed to the grace and purity 
 of the Gospel, along with the special pride of Jewish 
 learning and pharisaical self-sufficiency; and afterwards, 
 when his mind was enlightened and his heart was hum- 
 bled by the Gospel, instead of vindicating and palliating 
 his former conduct by pleading its conscientiousness, there 
 is nothing that stirs in him such indignant self-loathing 
 as the remembrance of the spirit by which he had been 
 animated, when he "breathed out threatening^ and 
 slaughter against the disciples of the Lord;" and the 
 very zeal which had then inflamed him, conscientious as 
 it was, he regarded as having constituted him the " chief 
 of sinners."* — When we say that the shame and the 
 pain which he experienced arose from an enlightened and 
 awakened conscience ; what more do we mean, than that 
 they arose from his having seen his conduct in a new 
 light, and from a consequently altered judgment respect- 
 ing its real principles and merits? 
 
 Conscience having thus partaken in the general de- 
 pravity of human nature, we are not entitled to expect 
 uniformity of operation in that which is necessarily af- 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note K. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 173 
 
 fee ted by a variety so endless of modifying circumstances. 
 For infallible principles we must look to some other quar- 
 ter.* What that quarter is, it has been the object of the 
 preceding part of this Lecture to ascertain. If this has 
 been satisfactorily done, how thankful have we not reason 
 to be to that holy and just and good Being, who, in the 
 midst of all our anxious uncertainties, has favored us 
 with the sure intimations of his will; and, in the midst 
 of all our corruption, and guilt, and fear, has sent us the 
 "glad tidings" of a Savior; providing for us, through his 
 mediation, a salvation as perfectly adapted to all the exi- 
 gencies of our condition, as it is in accordance with the 
 dictates and the claims of every attribute of his own all- 
 perfect character ! 
 
 * Notes aad Illustrations. Note L. 
 
 15 
 
LECTURE VI. 
 
 ON THE ORIGINAL PRINCIPLES OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 
 
 1 Peter I. 16. 
 
 " Be ye holy, for I am holy." 
 
 summary of j LAID De f ore y 0U i n i as t Lecture, all that I 
 
 former state- J 
 
 meuts. deem it necessary to say with regard to the 
 
 rule or law of duty, — the immediate ground of moral 
 obligation to man, and in its essential principles, I doubt 
 not, however modified by peculiarities of condition, to the 
 whole intelligent universe, — the universe of accountable 
 agents, subjects of God's moral administration. I have 
 shown, that if God sustains the character of a moral 
 Governor, and man is a subject of his dominion, it follows 
 unavoidably, that the law of the subject's duty can be 
 nothing else than the supreme will; — that the knowl- 
 edge of this will was originally possessed by intuitive 
 discernment, and, being " written on the heart," found a 
 disposition there perfectly consentaneous to every iota of 
 its holy requirements ; — that through the defection of 
 man from his uprightness of heart, the knowledge of God 
 himself, and consequently the knowledge of his will, has 
 been fearfully impaired, and, although still discovering 
 itself in the dictates of his conscience, yet has necessa- 
 
ORIGIN OF MORAL OBLIGATION. 175 
 
 rily been bereft of its certainty and its consistency as a 
 standard of moral rectitude ; — and that this knowledge, 
 lost by the sinful aversion of the human heart to retain 
 it, has, through the unmerited favor of God, been restored 
 in-divine revelation. 
 
 We shall now endeavor to ascend a step ^^ p f n r of 
 higher. But, while we make the attempt, we which . the 
 
 P » r ' remaining 
 
 would bear in our remembrance the sacredness and higher 
 
 branch of the 
 
 and the loftiness of our theme, and the difficul- subject 
 
 should be 
 
 ties which must ever be involved in all such prosecuted, 
 investigations as are ultimately connected with the in- 
 finite nature and the boundless administration of Deity. 
 We cannot enter into the mind of the Eternal. We can- 
 not read it in its own light. That is his own prerogative. 
 " What man knoweth the things of a man, save the 
 spirit of man which is in him ? Even so the things of 
 God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God." What 
 we know of him is all derived and mediate, and can 
 extend no further than, in his sovereign pleasure, he may 
 think fit, in whatever way, to reveal himself. It becomes 
 us, therefore, to beware, that we do not, with unhallowed 
 and presumptuous hand, tear asunder the vail that con- 
 ceals the " Holy Place of the Most High," — the myste- 
 rious inner sanctuary, where are the dread symbols of his 
 presence, and into which it is death to force an unwar- 
 ranted entrance. But " the way into this holiest of all " 
 has, we think, to a certain degree, been " made mani- 
 fest; " so that, " taking off our shoe from our foot," as on 
 "holy ground," we may, under his own permission, enter 
 " with reverence and godly fear," and try what we can 
 discover of the secret consels of Him who " dwelleth be- 
 tween the cherubim." 
 
176 ORIGIN OF 
 
 ^e win of i t appears, then, to be a sentiment which, so 
 origin of the f ar f rom there being any presumption in affirm- 
 
 principles of ° J x x 
 
 rectitude, ins; it, it would be dishonorable to the Divine 
 
 but itself de- ° 
 
 termined by Being to question, — that, while to his creatures 
 his will is the immediate rule of duty and ground 
 of obligation, yet, in its legislative prescriptions, that will 
 is not capricious and arbitrary ; that there must be certain 
 principles by which it is itself determined, conformity to 
 which is what, in his estimation, constitutes right, and 
 disconformity, wrong ; and by which, consequently, the 
 rules of duty prescribed by him to his intelligent offspring 
 are dictated ; — that, in short, with regard to every moral 
 duty, there is an important sense, in which the proposition, 
 however startling the terms of it may be to the inconsid- 
 erate mind, is manifestly true, — that it is not right be- 
 cause God wills it, but that God wills it because it is 
 right. And this leads us at once to our present point. It 
 is in that, whatsoever it be, on account of which God 
 wills it, and conformity to which constitutes it in his 
 eyes right, that the original, or elementary and essential 
 principles of moral virtue properly consist, 
 sentiments » After all that can be said," writes Bishop 
 
 on this sub- r 
 
 jectof Bish- Horsley, "and said with truth, about the im- 
 
 op Horsley. ... 
 
 mutable distinctions of right and wrong, and 
 eternal fitnesses of things, it should seem that the will of 
 God is the true foundation of moral obligation; — fori 
 cannot understand, how any man's bare perception of the 
 natural seemliness of one action and unseemliness of 
 another should bring him under an obligation on all 
 occasions to do the one and to avoid the other, at the 
 hazard of his life, to the detriment of his fortune, or even 
 to the diminution of his own ease, which suffers diminu- 
 tion in every instance in which he lays a restraint upon 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 177 
 
 his inclination ; — I say, I cannot understand how the 
 bare perception of good in actions of one sort, or of evil 
 in actions of another, should create such an obligation, 
 that a man, if he were not accountable to a superior for 
 the conduct of his life, should yet be criminal, if, in the 
 view of his own happiness and ease, he should sometimes 
 think proper to omit the action he admires, and to do that 
 which he disapproves. 
 
 " On such obligation, therefore, arising from the intui- 
 tive perception of right and wrong, it follows, that, not- 
 withstanding the reality of those differences, and the im- 
 mutable nature of the two things, still the obligation 
 upon man to act in conformity to these perceptions arises 
 from the will of God, who enjoins a conformity of our 
 conduct to these natural perceptions of our minds, and 
 binds the obligation by assurances, that what we lose 
 of present gratification shall be amply compensated in 
 a future retribution, and by threatening the disobedient 
 with heavier ills than the restraints of self-denial, or the 
 loss of life," 
 
 "Now, although this fitness and propriety," says the 
 Bishop again, "be not the origin of moral obligation 
 among men, yet it is indeed a higher principle ; for it is 
 that from which that will of God himself originates, by 
 which the natural discernment of our consciences acquires 
 the force of a law for the regulation of our lives." And 
 again: — "We discern in these natural duties that in- 
 trinsic worth and seemliness, which is the motive that 
 determines the divine Will to exact the performance of 
 them from the rational part of his creation; for God's 
 will is not arbitrary, but directed by his goodness and 
 his wisdom. Or, to go a step higher, the natural 
 excellence of these duties, we may reasonably presume 
 
178 ORIGIN OF 
 
 was the original motive which determined the Deity to 
 create beings who should be capable of being brought to 
 that dignity of character which a proficiency in virtue 
 confers, and enjoying, in their improved state of moral 
 worth, a corresponding happiness."* 
 
 Let not the introduction of such quotations be interpret- 
 ed by any of my hearers, as implying my approbation 
 of every incidental sentiment, or mode of expression, 
 which they may contain. I should, in the present in- 
 stance, for example, strongly demur to the closing sen- 
 tence of the citations just made, which seems to convey 
 the idea that creatures were formed, or might be formed, 
 by the infinitely holy Creator, which, at the time of their 
 formation, were only " capable of being brought to that 
 dignity of character which a proficiency in virtue con- 
 fers : " — for surely, every rational creature, when fresh from 
 the creating hand of immaculate purily, must have been 
 not merely capable of attaining, but in actual possession 
 of this dignity. " God made man upright." It is in 
 every case, not an acquired, but a native dignity ; and if, 
 in the character of any intelligent creature, we find a 
 " proficiency in virtue still to be acquired" we may be 
 certain that that creature is in a state of degeneracy 
 from its original rectitude. God has given being to 
 creatures, who have subsequently lost their " proficiency 
 in virtue ; " but we cannot imagine him to bring into 
 existence such as, after their creation, require to be 
 "brought" by him to this proficiency. Any state of 
 created intelligence that is short of sinless perfection must 
 be a fallen state, from which, through the operation of 
 some system of moral means provided by the mercy of the 
 
 * Horsley's Sermons, Vol. II. Serm. XXI. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 179 
 
 Sovereign, there may be progressive stages of recovery. 
 Such is the condition of man. I have cited from Hors- 
 ley, chiefly for the sake of the general sentiment con- 
 tained in the extracts ; namely, that there are eternal 
 fitnesses by which the will of God is itself determined, and 
 conformity to which constitutes its necessary and immu- 
 table rectitude. Allow me, however, to analyze a little 
 closely this sentiment. 
 
 I have granted, as a position which it would ^inSo?' 1 
 be profanity to dispute,* that the will of the ;j^ t p t h s j tion 
 infinitely wise and good is not arbitrary, but f^"® ^j 11 
 " directed by his wisdom and his goodness." — edbypre- 
 When, however, we speak of conformity to cer- e3 - 
 tain fitnesses of things constituting the rectitude of the 
 divine Will, it may be deserving of our attentive consid- 
 eration, whether we are not proceeding upon the supposi- 
 tion of what can have no possible subsistence, — a stand- 
 ard, namely, of relative abstractions — of fitnesses indepen- 
 dent of all being. Whenever we utter the word "fitness- 
 es," we unavoidably have in our minds the conception 
 of existing beings, with certain relations subsisting be- 
 tween them, to which particular dispositions and modes 
 of conduct are conceived to have a natural and necessary 
 adaptation, : — such an adaptation, that the incongruity 
 and unseemliness of their opposites is intuitively discerned 
 by every rightly constituted mind. But what do we 
 mean, when we speak of these fitnesses as eternal? If 
 they are fitnesses of relation (and what else can they be?) 
 it is clear that they can be eternal no otherwise than hy- 
 pothetically ; that is, they can be eternal, only as subsist- 
 ing in the divine Mind itself, in connection with the 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note M. 
 
ISO ORIGIN 0^ 
 
 prospective contemplation of existences to come, between 
 Which such relations should arise, — relations to himself, 
 and relations to one another, -*• of creature to creature, and 
 of creatures to God. These fitnesses could not be ante- 
 cedent to God ; for nothing- could precede eternity, — the 
 uncommencing existence of the great " I am." Neither 
 could they exist abstractedly from God, or independently 
 of him ; for then we should have fitnesses independent of 
 alt being ; — than which, if we reflect for a moment, I 
 greatly deceive myself if there can be anything more 
 self-contradictory and impossible. 
 
 When creation began, we know not. There were 
 angels, and there was a place of angelic habitation, before 
 the creation of man and of the world destined for his 
 residence ; ~- and even amongst these pure spiritual es- 
 sences, there had been a rebellion, and a fall. How long 
 these spirits had existed, and how many other orders of 
 being besides, it is vain for us to conjecture ; for conjec- 
 ture could lead to nothing surer than itself. But of one 
 thing we are certain ; — that, how far back soever we 
 suppose the commencement of creation carried, — let it 
 be ; not only beyond the actual range (if a definite range 
 it can be said to have) of the human imagination, but 
 even beyond the greatest amount of ages that figures, in 
 any way combined, could be made to express; — still 
 there was an eternity preceding, — an eternity, from 
 which this unimaginable and incomputable duration has 
 made not the minutest deduction ; for it is the property of 
 eternity, that it can neither be lengthened by the addition, 
 nor shortened by the subtraction, of the longest possible 
 periods of time. Before the commencement of creation, 
 therefore, — before the fiat of Omnipotence which gave 
 being to the first dependent existence, and dated the be- 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 181 
 
 ginning of time, — in infinite and incomprehensible solitude, 
 yet, in the boundless self-sufficiency of his blessed nature, 
 feeling no want and no dreariness, — Jehovah had, from 
 eternity, existed alone ! 
 
 There is something awfully sublime in this conception 
 of Deity. Our minds are overwhelmed, when we attempt 
 to think of infinite space, even as it is replenished with 
 its millions of suns and systems of inhabited worlds ; — but 
 still more are they baffled and put to a stand, when we 
 try to form a conception of immensity, before sun or star 
 existed, before any creature had a being, — of immensi- 
 ty, filled with nothing but the pure, etherial, invisible 
 essence of the great uncreated Spirit. When we think 
 of the millions of worlds, with all their interminable 
 varieties of spiritual and material, animate and inanimate, 
 brute and intelligent, tribes of being, there is unavoidably 
 in our minds the conception of Deity as having, in the 
 superintendence of all his works of wisdom, power, and 
 goodness, both incessant occupation, and exhaustless 
 sources of enjoyment. But when we set our imagina- 
 tions to the task of blotting out creation, — of annihi- 
 lating all but God, — and endeavor to fancy the vast soli- 
 tudes of immensity, with no existence whatever, save that 
 of the unseen all-pervading Deity, — and conceive of this 
 Being, as having from eternity been in possession of in- 
 finite enjoyment, — all within himself, — not at all 
 requiring to put forth his creative power on his own ac- 
 count, in order to supply any lack, any felt deficiency: — 
 our conception of him, although it may be less briliiarjt 
 and less inviting, yet has in it, from its very undefined 
 mysteriousness, a more appalling grandeur; a grandeur, 
 which is depressed rather than elevated, diminished rather 
 than amplified, by the obtrusion upon the scene of solitary 
 16 
 
182 ORIGIN OF 
 
 vastness of the rising magnificence of the created universe. 
 It is the grandeur of self-sufficiency, — the majesty of 
 eternal independence. We may feel it more easy to con- 
 template the Godhead through the medium of his works, 
 and withal more attractive and pleasing, because it brings 
 into play the feelings generated by the relations in which 
 he stands to created existences, and the attributes of 
 character which those relations unfold: — but, although 
 we are sensible that there is a coldness in the undefined 
 conception of solitary infinitude — of a Being existing 
 by himself, unrelated, and holding no communion with 
 any mind but his own ; — yet, chilling as the abstraction 
 is, it is the chillness of a deeper awe, — an awe, which 
 annihilates self in the presence of that mysterious Being, 
 who, before a creature existed, and even for a preceding 
 eternity, possessed within himself all that was necessary 
 to infinite and unchanging felicity! 
 
 But I must not allow such thoughts to draw me into 
 too wide a digression from my present point. When, in 
 tracing back existence, from the simple postulate that some- 
 thing now is, we arrive at the great First Cause, the Ori- 
 ginator of all being but his own ; and with a certainty 
 strictly demonstrative, come to the conclusion that this 
 great First Cause is a Being that exists by an absolute 
 necessity of nature; — we are at once sensible that we 
 can go no further. We have reached the ultimate point, 
 beyond which there is nothing, and can be nothing. — It 
 is true, that when we speak of Deity as existing by an 
 absolute necessity, we use language which involves in it 
 a great deal more than we are capable of distinctly com- 
 prehending: — but it is not by our capacity of compre- 
 hension that we are to measure truth ; it is by the results 
 of legitimate ratiocination. The conclusions to which 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 183 
 
 we are conducted, may, in their vastness and abstruse- 
 ness, be full of mystery, — they may have in them " a 
 length and breadth, and depth and height, passing knowl- 
 edge," — while yet they are so sure, that every attempt 
 even to imagine the contrary involves us in palpable con- 
 tradiction.* 
 
 Thus it is with regard to the divine existence. Now 
 the very same process of reasoning which we apply to 
 his existence, is, with equal legitimacy, applicable to his 
 nature. If he exists by an absolute necessity, then, by 
 the same necessity, he not only is, but is what he is. — 
 And, whether his nature be considered physically, intel- 
 lectually, or morally, the observation is equally true. 
 Whatever attributes belong to it, they belong to it by the 
 same necessity that is predicated of its existence. If, 
 therefore, in tracing back existence, we arrive at our ulti- 
 mate point in Deity, — being arrested and fixed in the 
 eternal necessity of his being, — must not the same be 
 the result, in tracing to their origin the principles of moral 
 rectitude ? — Here, also, do not we reach our ultimate 
 point in Deity 1 If we cannot go further back in regard 
 to being, can we in regard to principle ? Are we not ar- 
 rested and fixed by the eternal necessity of the principles 
 of the divine character, — the attributes or qualities of 
 the divine nature, — just as really, and as finally, as we 
 are by the necessity of the divine existence? It must be 
 in the moral world as it is in the physical ; with regard 
 to virtue, as with regard to matter and mind. In tracing 
 back existence, we come to the necessity of God's being ; 
 in tracing back principles, we come to the necessity of 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note N. 
 
184 ORIGIN OF 
 
 God's character. In neither case can we reach 
 point 1 *? any further than this point of necessity. We 
 UiaTysis e are constrained to stop here : — and, when we 
 leads us. have thug resolve( j t h e ultimate principles of 
 
 moral rectitude in the creature, into conformity with the 
 eternal and immutable prototype of all excellence in the 
 nature of the Godhead, our minds repose, in delightful 
 satisfaction, on this secure resting place. To talk of any 
 fitnesses of things by which, as a standard, the rectitude 
 of that nature itself is to be tried and ascertained, is as 
 inconsiderate as it is profane : — for, not only is this to 
 suppose fitnesses existing independently of all being what- 
 ever, which is sheer absurdity; it is, at the same time, 
 going beyond necessity, and assuming something ulterior, 
 according to which that which is necessary must be; 
 which is a plain contradiction in tefms. 
 
 I know not whether I have carried your minds along 
 with my own; — but here I feel that I must stay my 
 flight. The eye of human reason must not attempt to 
 penetrate, nor the wing of human fancy to soar, beyond 
 the throne of the Eternal. It is a bold flight for a crea- 
 ture even to approach it ; but, when the flight is attempt- 
 ed for the devout purpose of laying at the feet of " Him 
 that sitteth upon the throne," the homage of his own cre- 
 ation, and — (the wing that has borne us to his seat cov- 
 ering our faces in his presence) — of acknowledging and 
 adoring Him, as at once the origin of all existence, and 
 the prototype of all excellence, it will not, we humbly 
 trust, be condemned as presumptuous. 
 The conciu- The conclusion to which we have come, 
 
 eion to which . 
 
 behave been while it seems the obvious dictate of en light- 
 as honoring ened reason, has the additional recommendation 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 185 
 
 to the pious mind, of being eminently glorify- toGodasitis 
 
 ° * satisfactory 
 
 ing to God. It is, that, instead of any abstract to reason. 
 fitnesses being the standard or measure of the divine na- 
 ture, the divine nature must itself be the origin and the 
 standard of all fitnesses: — that, just as the necessary 
 existence of Deity is the origin, or punctum saliens of all 
 other being, so the necessary moral principles of the di- 
 vine nature are the source and pattern of all other excel- 
 lence ; and that virtue in the creature is conformity to 
 this divine original. And from this it follows further, 
 that the essential principles of rectitude having existed in 
 Deity before creation, and being consequently altogether 
 independent of the relations to which creation gave rise ; 
 the fitnesses of all these relations and of the duties re- 
 spectively arising out of them, are not standards, but only 
 manifestations, of the principles of the divine character, hav- 
 ing alLof them their origin from those principles, and being 
 all of course in harmony with them. Why Deity is what 
 he is, is a question which can never be asked but by a 
 combination of presumptuous impiety and egregious folly. 
 . We can say no more than what we have said, that he is 
 what he is by an eternal and unalterable necessity. And, 
 on the grounds which have been mentioned, it matters 
 little whether we speak of moral goodness as consisting 
 in conformity to his nature or in conformity to his will ; 
 there being a perfect and necessary coincidence between 
 the one and the other ; his will being the counterpart of 
 his nature, and the expression and indication of his char- 
 acter to his rational creatures. 
 
 In this view, we might regard the words of our text, 
 
 as the voice of Jehovah, not to the particular tribe of 
 
 mankind merely to whom they were specially addressed, 
 
 but to the whole rational universe. Assuming his own 
 
 *16 
 
186 ORIGIN OF 
 
 all-perfect nature as the pattern of principle for all crea- 
 tures endowed with intelligence, we may conceive him 
 as issuing through all worlds the brief but comprehensive 
 and authoritative mandate, " Be ye holy, for I am holy." 
 It is the language of absolute underived supremacy; the 
 language of Him on whom all creation depends, and who 
 is himself independent of all creation, — who rules a sub- 
 ject universe, swaying no hereditary or delegated sceptre, 
 but the sceptre of eternal, indefeasible, intransferable right. 
 His holiness is not conformity to the holiness of an- 
 other ; but the holiness of every other is conformity to 
 his. He had no superior, — no one before him, no one 
 above him, to hold himself forth as an exemplar, and say 
 to him, "Be holy, for I am holy." The language is ex- 
 clusively his own. And what higher or better reason can 
 be assigned, why creatures should be holy, than that 
 their Creator is holy, and that it is his will that the 
 subjects of his moral administration should resemble 
 himself? 
 
 Thecondu- Having thus, then, ascertained the origin of 
 
 Bion to which . . ... , ° 
 
 we have moral obligation, — the primary principles of 
 
 come, a start- ;. . , . . , 
 
 ing point for rectitude, as subsisting in the nature of the in- 
 
 a new course *. ., ^ >, . , . . 
 
 of observa- finite Uod; we start again from this point, in a 
 new course of observation. We have reasoned 
 backward, till we have arrived at principles that are 
 necessary and eternal: — we may now trace forward 
 these principles in their practical development, and see 
 to what results, in the theory of moral science, we mav 
 thus be conducted. 
 
 What were the occupations of the divine Mind, durino- 
 the eternity that preceded creation? — We feel as if we 
 were chargeable with presumption, in having even so 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 187 
 
 much as ventured to put the question into words; — so in- 
 finitely is the subject beyond the range of our short-sight- 
 ed speculations, — wrapt in a secresy so profound and 
 awful, — the secresy of Him, "whom no man hath seen 
 nor can see," — of the depths of whose nature there is no 
 line of created intelligence that can take the soundings. 
 Of one thing, however, we are sure ; that at what point 
 soever this Being began to put forth the energy of his 
 creative might, there must have been a perfect fitness, or 
 congruity, between his acts and the principles of his 
 moral nature; a congruity fully apparent to his own 
 mind, and clearly discernible by every mind formed with 
 a participation of his own intelligence. This congruity 
 is what the inspired historian of the creation expresses, 
 when, after recording the six days' work, he says — "And 
 God saw everything that he had made, and behold it 
 was very good." And indeed, it is on this necessary con- 
 gruity that the entire process is founded, of reading in 
 the works the character of the Maker. Were it at all 
 possible, that the product of any act of his power should 
 be out of harmony with any attribute of his character, it 
 would cease to be possible for any of his creatures, how- 
 ever intelligent, and however unbiased in the exercise of 
 his intelligence by any moral obliquity of disposition, to 
 read nature's lessons with any clearness, or to arrive at 
 truth with any certainty. The fault, in that case, would 
 not be in the reader, but in the book. The oracle being 
 ambiguous, no blame could be attached to those who un- 
 derstood it in different ways. 
 
 These things are sufficiently plain. Since the com- 
 mencement of creation, the Almighty has not only been 
 the Governor of moral agents, he has been an agent him- 
 self; and, in all his own procedure, we must, without 
 
188 ORIGIN OP 
 
 doubt, conceive of him as acting in the strictest agreement 
 with the immutable principles of his character. — By 
 these principles, therefore, essentially and eternally inhe- 
 rent in his nature, he was guided in the formation of the 
 universe, — infixing the constitutions, allotting the cir- 
 cumstances, and adjusting the mutual relations, of all his 
 creatures. And of this it was a natural and necessary 
 consequence, that these same principles, transferred from 
 the Creator to the creature, emanating from the nature of 
 the one to the nature of the other, became the creature's 
 happiness in time, as they had been his own from eterni- 
 ty. — I speak now of his rational creation. The princi- 
 ples of his moral nature were such, it is true, as to insure, 
 in the exercise of his omnipotence, the communication of 
 happiness to the whole range of sentient as well as of in- 
 telligent being. But our present discussion relates to 
 those who, in the possession of reason and of holiness, 
 were made " after God's own image." In them, the prin- 
 ciples of moral rectitude, being a communication from the 
 fullness of Deity, were the same in kind as in the fullness 
 from which they were imparted, — the same in the cre- 
 ated nature as in the uncreated, — the same in the stream 
 as in the fountain. No stream but a pure stream could 
 flow from the fountain of purity. 
 
 This necessary conformity of the character of the in- 
 telligent creature to that of his holy Creator was exem- 
 plified in man. His nature was then a fair and faithful 
 indication of the nature of God; the excellence of the 
 Maker being made apparent in the excellence of his work. 
 Man himself, in his own consciousness, possessed this in- 
 ward witness for God ; and in his character he presented 
 the testimony to others. Angels saw in him the image 
 of the same pure and blessed Being from whom they had 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 189 
 
 received their own holy and happy nature. — But man, 
 as an apostate and degenerate creature, is in an unnatural 
 and anomalous state ; so that, as formerly observed, the 
 lesson of the moral perfection of the Creator is not now 
 to be read in what he is, but rather in the means which 
 have been devised and brought into operation, to make 
 him again what he was: — and these means it is the 
 special province of revelation to discover. — I am speak- 
 ing at present of the general principle, not of the partic- 
 ular exception : — and the principle is one which I may 
 surely assume as beyond contradiction, that, throughout 
 the whole range of being, there was a harmony between 
 creation and the principles of rectitude in the Creator. 
 From this arises the immediate consequence, that the 
 principles being developed in creation, creation becomes, 
 reciprocally, a test or criterion of the principles. Power 
 and skill framed and furnished the material universe ; 
 and hence, in all parts of the material universe that come 
 within our observation, we discern the traces, clear and 
 numberless, of power and skill. The manifestation of 
 moral principle, — that is, of the holiness of the divine 
 character, — is to be looked for, of course, only in the 
 department of intelligent creation : — and there, we may 
 be assured, could we have surveyed the universe in its 
 first estate, we should have seen in every part of it, the 
 traces, as clear and numberless, of untainted purity as of 
 wisdom and might. The same thing is equally true of 
 benevolence. — The entire process of creation, in short, 
 in all its amplitude and in all its details, having been con- 
 ducted in conformity with all the attributes of the Crea- 
 tor, these attributes come of course to be discernible in 
 their results, and ascertainable from them. 
 
190 ORIGIN OF 
 
 Tmeposi- j coms to the point towards which these re- 
 
 tion for the r 
 
 Siut y ° f mai 'ks have been directed. Here, I apprehend, 
 "is the proper position for the theory of utility. 
 If, instead of representing utility as the foundation of the 
 principles of moral rectitude, or as that on account of 
 which they are to be regarded as right, the utilitarian 
 theorists had represented it as a manifestation of the na- 
 ture and tendency of those principles, they would have 
 come nearer to the truth. It must be obvious to every 
 mind, that a principle may in its nature, when put into 
 practical exercise, be fitted to produce happiness, whilst 
 yet the production of happiness is not that which consti- 
 tutes the rectitude of the principle. 
 
 utility, While I more than hesitate to admit, that 
 
 the U found°a- utility, or the tendency to happiness, is the ul- 
 rion of recti- timate principle into which moral rectitude is 
 to be resolved, there can be no hesitation in ad- 
 mitting, that happiness is the direct and invariable result 
 of the putting forth of the principles of moral rectitude 
 on the part of the Godhead ; — and, as a consequence, 
 that, when understood in its proper extent, and estimated 
 by a mind of capacity sufficient to comprehend that extent, 
 utility, though not itself constituting rectitude, becomes 
 its legitimate and correct criterion, 
 comprehen- But I must be allowed to explain what I mean 
 
 siveness of r 
 
 the term. by the proper extent of the import of the term, 
 and by the necessity for a sufficiently comprehensive mind 
 to make it the rule of judgment. In the first place, there 
 are few or none of our utilitarian philosophers who give 
 comprehension enough to the term utility. Some speak 
 very loosely of what is useful to ourselves, or to others, 
 without either defining what they mean by useful, or in- 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 191 
 
 timating, whether they take into their estimate of it the 
 present life only, or the whole extent of our existence. 
 Others take a wider range. They speak of the good 
 of the universe, — of the happiness of the entire system 
 of created beings, — of what is useful on the whole. But 
 even this, vast as the idea is, appears to me too limited. 
 There is a view of tendencies that is prior and superior to 
 the benefit of creation, — one, at the same time, with 
 which the benefit of creation is intimately and necessa- 
 rily associated. In an estimate of tendencies, or in con- 
 sidering what any particular created existence, or any 
 prescribed action or course of conduct, is good for, what 
 would be the first thing that would present itself to the 
 mind of an angel of light ? Would it not be — the glory 
 of God? The glory of God is, I have admitted, in- 
 separably associated with the good of the universe, and 
 essential to its attainment; but still it is above it, — first 
 in order, first in magnitude. He who can fancy to him" 
 self anything connected with creation, of what extent 
 ani value soever, to which the glory of the Supreme 
 Creator ought to give place, has reason to examine the 
 reality of his devotion, as well as the soundness of his 
 philosophy. There is an essential defect in the sense 
 affixed to the term utility, when this first and highest 
 branch of it is left out of the account : — and the defect, 
 whatever men may think of it, is indicative of the 
 ungodliness of our nature. When we do take the term 
 in its due fullness of comprehension, we have then, assur- 
 edly, before our minds, all that we can imagine to have 
 been in the Creator's view, in the production and arange- 
 ment of the great system of being ; the glory of his own 
 name, and the happiness of all else that exists, exhausting 
 all the possibilities of final causations. And from this it 
 
192 ORIGIN OF 
 
 unquestionably follows, that whatever in conduct is in 
 harmony with the glory of God and the good of the uni- 
 verse, cannot fail to be also in harmony with the principles 
 of moral rectitude, 
 incompe- g u t then, secondly, the criterion is one pro- 
 
 tency of our J x 
 
 minds to ap- digiously too vast and complicated, to be brought 
 rion, unfits it into application by our minds, or by the mind of 
 
 for being a x 
 
 rule for our &ny creature. On which account there cannot 
 
 conduct. . 
 
 be a more egregious error, than to propose the 
 scheme of utility as a rule for the direction of human 
 conduct. The same difficulties would beset us in applying 
 this criterion of duty, as those by which we are embarrassed 
 and overwhelmed, when we presume to sit in judgment 
 on the administration of divine providence. In no step 
 of God's providential procedure can there be any higher 
 end in contemplation than the greatest measure of glory 
 to himself and of good to the universe. But the connec- 
 tions of events are so intricate, and their relative bearings 
 and tendencies so inconceivably complicated ; there are in 
 the machinery that works out the divine purposes so many 
 " wheels within wheels," of which the slightest disadjust- 
 ment might give occasion to the most mischievous results ; 
 incidents the most trival, and events the most momen- 
 tous, are so intimately blended and reciprocally linked 
 together, as causes and effects ; that no creature can, a 
 priori, be a competent judge with regard to the ultimate 
 consequencs of even the most apparently insignificant 
 occurrence. 
 
 The application of the case to the one before us is too 
 obvious to require illustration ; and I fear I am repeating, 
 to too great an extent, what was said in other terms in a 
 former Lecture. Bear with me, however, on account of 
 the special importance of the theory, and for the sake of 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 193 
 
 the special importance of the theory, and for the sake of the 
 conclusion to which my observations are now conducting. 
 Even setting the glory of the divine Being aside, what 
 can our minds make of the good of the universe, — nay, 
 of the good even of our own system, or of our own 
 world % Were we capable, indeed, of estimating the good 
 of creation, and of determining what is conducive and 
 what prejudicial to it, we should be capable also, it might 
 be alleged, of settling what is for the glory of God ; his 
 infinite benevolence having so united his own glory with 
 the universal good, that, wherever a decided tendency to 
 the latter can be established, the conclusion is involved 
 of a tendency also to the former. But neither the one 
 nor the other is at all within the range of our limited 
 faculties. 
 
 " The welfare of the whole system of being," says 
 Robert Hall,* (and our only objection to the language is, 
 that in the mind of the admirable writer there appears to 
 have been, at the time, rather too exclusive a reference to 
 the system of created- being,) — " the welfare of the whole 
 of being must be allowed to be, in itself, the object of all 
 others the most worthy to be pursued ; so that, could 
 the mind distinctly embrace it, and discern at every 
 step what action would infallibly promote it, we should 
 be furnished with a sure criterion of right and wrong, — 
 an unerring guide, which would supersede the use and 
 necessity of all inferior rules, laws, and principles. But 
 this being impossible, since the good of the whole is a 
 motive so loose and indeterminate, and embraces such an 
 infinity of relations, that, before we could be certain what 
 action it prescribed, the season for action would be past ; 
 
 * Sermon on Modern Infidelity Works, Vol. I. pp. 56, 57. 
 
 17 
 
194 ORIGIN OP 
 
 to weak short-sighted mortals providence has assigned a 
 sphere of agency, less grand, indeed, and extensive, but 
 better suited to their limited powers, by implanting certain 
 affections which it is their duty to cultivate, and suggest- 
 ing particular rules to which they are bound to conform." 
 The crite- In a word, — the test is manifestly one which 
 which must no mind but the Divine is possessed of sufficient 
 
 be applied by . , . . . . r , . 
 
 Deity for us, extension and intuitive certainty of discernment, 
 suit commu- to apply, with any approach to precision. What, 
 comes our" then, is the conclusion ? The conclusion is, 
 that it must be applied by Deity for us ; and, in 
 what way soever may seem to him best, Deity must 
 communicate to us the results : — which leads us, by a 
 somewhat different route, to the same point at which we 
 formerly arrived ; the communication of such results 
 amounting to the same thing with the revelation to us of 
 his will ; and his will, so discovered, becoming the rule or 
 law of our conduct. 
 
 The celebrated American theologian, President Dwight, 
 while he maintains the principle that " virtue is founded 
 in utility, 17 disclaims utility as the rule of virtue to us, 
 and rests his disclaimer on similar grounds to those which 
 have just been stated. After mentioning, as the great ob* 
 jection to his doctrine, " that if virtue is founded in utility, 
 then utility becomes the measure of virtue, and of course 
 the rule of all our moral conduct : " — " This," says he, 
 " is the error of Godwin, and, in an indefinite degree, of 
 Paley, and several other writers. Were we omniscient, 
 and able to discern the true nature of all the effects of our 
 conduct, this consequence must undoubtedly be admitted. 
 To the eye of God it is the real rule. It will not, I trust, 
 be denied, that he has chosen and required that to be 
 done by his intelligent creatures, which is most useful ; 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 195 
 
 or, in other words, most productive of good to the universe 
 and of glory to himself; rather than that which is less so. 
 But to us, utility, as judged of by ourselves, cannot be a 
 proper rule of moral conduct. The real usefulness of our 
 conduct, or its usefulness upon the whole, lies in the nature 
 of all its effects, considered as one aggregate. But noth- 
 ing is more evident, than that few, very few indeed, of 
 these can ever be known to us by our own foresight. If 
 the information given us by the Scriptures concerning 
 this subject, were to be lost ; we should be surprised to 
 see, how small was the number of cases, in which this 
 knowledge was attainable, even in a moderate degree, and 
 how much uncertainty attended even these. As, there- 
 fore, we are unable to discern, with truth or probability, 
 the real usefulness of our conduct, it is impossible that 
 our moral actions can be safely guided by this rule." — 
 " As well might a man determine, that a path, whose 
 direction he can discern only for a furlong, will conduct 
 him in a straight course to a city distant from him a 
 thousand miles, as to determine that an action whose im- 
 mediate tendency he perceives to be useful will therefore 
 be useful through a thousand years, or even through ten. 
 How much less able must he be to perceive, what will be 
 its real tendency in the remote ages of endless duration! 
 It is impossible, therefore, that utility, as decided by our 
 judgment, should become the rule of moral action."* — 
 He accordingly comes to the same conclusion with our- 
 selves ; rinding in the "precepts of the Sacred Volume," 
 " the only safe rule by which moral beings can, in this 
 world, direct their conduct"! 
 
 * Dwigbt's Theology, Serm. XCIX. t Ibid. 
 
196 ORIGIN OF 
 
 Danger of Were I called upon for an exemplification of 
 
 testof S utiil the danger of leaving to the judgment of the 
 judgment of creature the determination of what is for the 
 exemplified' best, I should point at once to the first human 
 transgre™ 1 transgression. It was committed on the very 
 sxon ' principle of utility, or expediency: " The woman 
 
 saw that the tree was good for food, and pleasant to the 
 eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise."'* It 
 was under a partial and sadly mistaken view of appear- 
 ances and consequences, that the evil was done. An- 
 ticipated benefit to the individual, and perhaps Eve might 
 flatter herself, to her whole future progeny, was the mo- 
 tive to its perpetration. Shall we ever think, then, of 
 setting up as the master principle for the government of 
 our conduct, one which proved the temptation and ruin 
 of man even in his uprightness, and which when applied 
 by a creature that is corrupt, and blinded, and self-inter- 
 ested, cannot fail to prove incessantly fallacious and se- 
 ductive ? — a principle, which, when applied by God 
 himself, with a full and unerring comprehension of all 
 its relations, produces results that are perfectly and neces- 
 sarily correct, — but of which, alas! in reference to man, 
 we are constrained to say, as the Apostle says of the Law 
 — " It is weak, through the flesh ! " 
 illustration In this first transgression, too, we have a 
 
 in the same . . ,, . '•' .'.,', 
 
 fact of the satisfactory confirmation of the principle, that, 
 ©'"obligation to the creature, the will of God is the immedi- 
 c°reature. ate and proper ground of moral obligation. In 
 the prohibitory precept that was violated, and the viola- 
 tion of which "brought death into the world and all our 
 
 * Gen. iii. 6, 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 197 
 
 woe," there is nothing discernable of a priori fitness, — of 
 conformity to the nature and relations of things; — no- 
 thing which, without the direct intimation of Heaven, 
 could have led our first parents to refrain from eating of 
 the forbidden tree, more than of any other. The obliga- 
 tion to abstinence arose, simply and exclusively, from the 
 will of God made known to them ; and their sin, conse- 
 quently, consisted solely in the violation of that will. 
 Various important ends might be specified, as having been 
 answered by the selection of the particular kind of test 
 by which the principle of allegiance, in the progenitors 
 of our race, was put to the proof. At present, we only 
 notice the one that is immediately connected with our 
 subject. It was admirably fitted to teach the salutary 
 lesson, wherein the true essence of sin consisted ; not in 
 the amount of physical mischief produced by it; not even 
 in the abstract nature of the thing prohibited, on which 
 man should be left to speculate and decide for himself; 
 but simply in opposition to God. Nothing could more 
 clearly or impressively inculcate the truth, that God s 
 will loas to be the sole law of maris duty. And the valu- 
 able moral lessons which were thus conveyed by it ought, 
 we may remark, to redeem this particular in the primeval 
 condition of man from the unhallowed mockery with 
 which it has ofttimes been assailed by the profane scoffer 
 and the philosophic infidel. 
 
 I do feel as if some apology were necessary for so fre- 
 quent a recurrence to this particular theory. The defect- 
 ive discussion of it formerly, however, arose from my 
 having purposely delayed further observations till this 
 point of our progress ; and the avoidance of anticipation 
 has thus given occasion to partial repetition. It appeared 
 to me, moreover, that the place which utility legitimately 
 *17 
 
198 ORIGIN OF 
 
 occupies might be shown more distinctly and with greater 
 effect, now that we have seen its necessity, as a sequence 
 from the eternal principles put forth by the divine Mind 
 in the creation and constitution of the universe. It would 
 be inexcusable to pass without notice the eminent names 
 which stand associated with the theory as its advocates, 
 and the different lights in which, by those different advo- 
 cates, it has been held and vindicated. With no intention 
 to depreciate others, I may be allowed to select two, whose 
 high merits none will dispute, — Dwight and Paley. 
 strictures on j t nas b een the leading object of the former 
 
 the views of ^ ° 
 
 Dr. Dwight. p ar t of this discourse, to show, that the princi- 
 ples of moral rectitude, as subsisting in the character of 
 Deity, possess the same eternal necessity as his exist- 
 ence ; — and in the latter, as a legitimate conclusion from 
 this, that utility, or the tendency to the production of 
 happiness, is not what constitutes those principles right, 
 but rather the natural and appropriate consequence of 
 their rectitude ; in other words, that they are not right be- 
 cause they produce happiness, but that they produce hap- 
 piness because they are right ; their nature not arising 
 from their tendency, but their tendency from their nature. 
 I cannot he]p thinking, that, partly from the want of due 
 attention to this simple distinction between the nature of 
 a thing and its tendencies, there is a degree of confusion 
 in the statements of the American divine to whom I for- 
 merly referred. He proves, with a force of argument that 
 cannot be withstood, the absurdity of the hypothesis, by 
 which the foundation of virtue is placed in the will of 
 God ; * and shows, that its excellence lies in its own na- 
 
 * Theology, Serm. XCIX. From this Sermon, which is enti- 
 tled " Utility the Foundation of Virtue," all the subsequent citations 
 are taken. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 199 
 
 ture, to which the will of God is conformed, and by which 
 it is determined. Yet he, at the same time, contends for 
 the position that "virtue is founded in utility" — mean- 
 ing, by utility, " a tendency to produce happiness." Let 
 us examine a little the consistency of these statements. 
 
 " From these considerations," says Dr. Dwight refer- 
 ring to preceding reasonings, " it is, I apprehend, evident, 
 that the foundation of virtue is not in the ivill of God, but 
 in the nature of things. The next object of inquiry, 
 therefore, is, Where in the nature of things, shall we find 
 this foundation?" In answer to this question, he lays 
 down and illustrates the two propositions, that " there is 
 no ultimate good but happiness," and that " virtue is the 
 only original cause of happiness." According to him, 
 virtue and vice are such because of their respective ten- 
 dencies ; that of the one to happiness, that of the other 
 to misery. " Were sin," says he, " in its own proper ten- 
 dency, to produce, invariably, the same good which it is 
 the tendency of virtue to produce ; were it the means, 
 invariably, of the same glory to God, and of the same 
 enjoyment to the universe, no reason is apparent to me, 
 why it would not become excellent, commendable, and 
 rewardable, in the same manner as virtue now is. Were 
 virtue regularly to effectuate the same dishonor to Gcd and 
 the same misery to intelligent creatures, now effectuated 
 by sin ; I see no reason why we should not attribute to 
 it all the odiousness, blame -worthiness, and desert of 
 punishment, which we now attribute to sin. All this" 
 he adds, "is, I confess, impossible; and is rendered so 
 by the nature of these things. Still the supposition may 
 be allowably made for the sake of discussion." 
 
 Now here the confusion to which I have adverted is 
 apparent. The foundation of virtue is not, he successfully 
 
200 ORIGIN OF 
 
 evinces, in the will of God, but in the nature of things. 
 "Where, in the nature of things," he then asks, " shall 
 we find this foundation?" And, in answer to this in- 
 quiry, he finds the foundation in the tendency to the 
 only ultimate good, to happiness : — " Virtue is termed 
 good, only as being the cause of happiness." But, with 
 all deference, I would submit the query, whether this is 
 finding the foundation in the nature of things at all % 
 
 The nature of things, and the tendency of things, it 
 seems very inadimssible thus to confound. And when 
 the Doctor admits the reversal of the respective results of 
 virtue and vice to be " rendered impossible by the nature 
 of these things" he himself recognizes the obvious dis- 
 tinction, To say, then, that virtue is founded in utility, 
 and, at the same time, that virtue possesses a previous 
 and essential nature from which it is that this utility 
 arises, is manifestly incorrect. It is confounding the 
 effect with the cause, the stream with the fountain, essen- 
 tial properties with their appropriate results. I am aware 
 that Dr. Dwight has given his own definition of the 
 41 foundation of virtue." " It is," says he, " that which 
 constitutes its value and excellence: " and these he finds 
 exclusively in its tendencies and effects. But still, the 
 tendencies and effects, we must contend, are not properly 
 intrinsic excellence ; and it is in the intrinsic excellence, 
 or essential nature of virtue, that its foundation is to be 
 sought. " If virtue and vice," says Dr. Dwight, " had 
 originally, or as they were seen by the eye of God, no 
 moral difference in their nature ; then there was plainly 
 no reason why God should prefer, or why he actually 
 preferred, one of them to the other." Now the ■* moral 
 difference in their nature " does not consist in their dif- 
 ferent tendencies and effects : but their different tendencies 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 201 
 
 and effects are the appropriate indications of their respect- 
 ive natures. And the truth appears to be, as I have 
 formerly stated it, that the principles of moral rectitude 
 are fixed by the necessity of the divine nature; that this 
 necessity is of course independent of all tendencies and 
 effects ; that these, as evolved in creation and providence, 
 are only the manifestation of the necessary nature of the 
 Godhead ; that all that is in conformity with the eternal 
 principles of this nature, is virtue, and all that is contrary 
 to them vice : and that the tendency of all virtue must, 
 from the nature of things, be the same with the ten- 
 dency of those divine principles in conformity to which it 
 consists. 
 
 The same observations apply to the utilitarian system, 
 in what form and under what modifications soever it has 
 been maintained ; namely, that it makes that to consti- 
 tute virtue, or moral rectitude, which is rather a result of 
 its previous and essential nature. The ezpedi- strictures on 
 
 the views of 
 
 ency of Dr. Paley must come under a still Dr. Paley. 
 heavier condemnation than the loftier utility of Dr. 
 Dwight. There is nothing, it is true, as to which Paley 
 is more explicit, than that, whatever theory be adopted 
 as to the principle of morals, the rule is the will of God. 
 This is a position he frequently repeats. 
 
 "Private happiness," says he, "is our motive, and the 
 will of God our rule ; "* — * and again, " As the will of 
 God is our rule, to inquire what is our duty, or what we 
 are obliged to do, is, in effect, to inquire what is the will 
 of God in that instance ; which, consequently, becomes 
 the whole business of morality." j He afterwards pro- 
 
 * Mor. and Polit. Phil. Book II. Chap. iii. 
 t Ibid. Book II, Chap. iv. 
 
202 ORIGIN OF 
 
 ceeds to show the different ways in which the divine will 
 is to be ascertained. And here it is that the charge of 
 Dr. Dwight against him, in classing him with those who 
 find the rule as well as the principle of morals in utility, 
 has its just application ; for, in regard to all practical 
 purposes, it amounts to the same thing, whether we con- 
 sider the "tendency to produce happiness" as the rule 
 itself by which we are to regulate our conduct, or as the 
 standard and test by which that rule is to be ascertained. 
 The latter is the position taken by Paley, wherevei 
 revelation is not possessed, and in all cases in which 
 revelation may leave us at a loss : — " The method of 
 coming at the will of God concerning any action, by the 
 light of nature, is to inquire into the tendency of the ac- 
 tion to promote the general happiness. This rule pro- 
 ceeds upon the presumption, that God Almighty wills 
 and wishes the happiness of his creatures ; and conse- 
 quently, that those actions, which promote that will and 
 wish must be agreeable to him, and the contrary."* 
 
 That " God Almighty wills and wishes the happiness 
 of his creatures," — being a proposition equivalent to the 
 simple affirmation of the benevolence of ihe divine nature, 
 is not to be questioned ; and nowhere are illustrations to 
 be found of the truth of the proposition, as it is exemplified 
 in the constitution and phenomena of animated nature, 
 more beautiful and more convincing, than in the writings 
 of Pale}' - himself. It is marvellous, however, that he 
 should not have been more sensible of the preposterousness 
 of expecting, from such a creature as man, the correct 
 application of such a test of right and wrong as the con- 
 duciveness of actions to the general happiness. And the 
 
 t Mor. and Polit. Phil. Book II. Chap. iv. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 203 
 
 wonder is not abated, when we read his own description 
 of the expediency (the term used by him to sum up the 
 tendencies to happiness) by which the judgment is to be 
 determined, and the cases of casuistry settled : — " What- 
 ever is expedient is right. But then, it must be expedient 
 upon the whole* at the long run, in all its effects, collater- 
 al and remote, as well as in those which are immediate 
 and direct; as it is obvious, that* in computing conse- 
 quences, it makes no difference in what way, or at what 
 distance, they ensue." # We may surely exclaim, in 
 regard to the application of such a test — "Who is suf- 
 ficient for these things 1 " Nay more. To make Dr. 
 Paley consistent with himself, the expediency which is 
 the test of virtue must comprehend not merely the imme- 
 diate and the most remote effects in time, but the conse- 
 quences in eternity ; for his very definition of virtue is — 
 " the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of 
 God, for the sake of everlasting happiness." f 
 
 But it is not the impossibility merely of rightly apply- 
 ing the criterion of the divine will, that we complain of in 
 this theory ; — we regard the definition given of virtue 
 as at once too limited in its field, and too selfish in its 
 motive. It is too limited in its field : — for certainly 
 there are many things that properly belong to virtue, 
 which cannot, without an undue extension of the mean- 
 ing of terms, be brought under the description of "doing 
 good to mankind." It is too selfish in its motive : — for, 
 while we are far from assenting to the extravagant and 
 visionary system, (a system contradicted alike by the com- 
 mon sense of mankind and by the whole tenor of Scripture) 
 
 * Mor. and Polit Phil. Book II. Chap. viii. 
 t Ibid. Book I. Chap, vii, 
 
204 ORIGIN OF 
 
 which, by excluding self altogether from consideration 
 in the inducements to virtue, would divest us of that 
 regard to our own happiness, which is an essential part 
 of our constitution, and common to us with all sentient 
 as well as intelligent existence, — yet we conceive that 
 when our own happiness, even although it be " everlast- 
 ing happiness," is represented as the only efficient motive 
 to the practice of it, the motive degenerates from one of 
 duly regulated self-love, to one of absolute selfishness. 
 
 In a future Lecture, we shall have occasion to take 
 more particular notice of questions which have been agi- 
 tated respecting the necessary disinterestedness of the 
 principles and motives of religious and moral duty, and 
 the extent to which self-love is admissible in their exer- 
 cise. In touching on the sentiments of President Ed- 
 wards, and others of the same school, these questions 
 will come before us. In the meantime, there can be 
 no hesitation in reprobating the selfishness of the prin- 
 ciple laid down by Dr. Faley. After explaining, in a 
 manner not very satisfactory, what he means by obliga- 
 tion, he says, — " From this account of obligation it 
 follows, that we can be obliged to nothing but what we 
 ourselves are to gain or lose something by ; for nothing 
 else can be ' a violent motive' to us. As we should not 
 be obliged to obey the laws, or the magistrates, unless 
 rewards or punishments, pleasure or pain, somehow or 
 other depended upon our obedience ; so neither should we, 
 without the same reason, be obliged to do what is right, 
 to practice virtue, or to obey the commands of God." * 
 
 In distinguishing between acts of duty and acts of 
 prudence, he afterwards sums up the distinction thus : — 
 
 * Mor. and Polit. Phil. Book II. Chap, ii. 
 
MORAL OBLIGATION. 205 
 
 In both the one and the other, " we consider solely what 
 we shall gain or lose by the act ; " — and " the difference, 
 the only difference, is this, that in the one case, we con- 
 sider what we shall gain or lose in the present world ; 
 in the other case, we consider also w T hat we shall gain or 
 lose in the world to come."* May we not justly apply 
 to this extraordinary statement, the maxim, Mo jus et 
 minus non variant speciem ? f Is not the motive in 
 either case the same in kind ? The only difference, 
 avowedly, is in the amount of benefit to ourselves con- 
 templated as the result; from which it follows, that duty, 
 or virtue, is nothing more than a superior measure of pru- 
 dence. " It is the utility of any moral rule alone,'' 1 says 
 Dr. Paley, " that constitutes the obligation to it : " — 
 " Private happiness is our motive ; and the will of God 
 our rule." It is admitted, that, from his nature, God can 
 command nothing but what is fitted to promote the hap- 
 piness of his creatures ; that every precept of such a Being 
 must be not only "holy and just," but "good." But 
 still, it is fearful for a creature thus to shrink into the 
 littleness of self, and to calculate all his obligations to do 
 the will of his Creator and Sovereign solely by casting 
 up the account of personal benefit. There is something 
 ungenerous and ignoble in such a system, from which the 
 mind recoils with shame. 
 
 Even on the supposition that the sole consideration 
 which dictated the commands of the Godhead, was the 
 happiness of his creatures, it might reasonably have been 
 expected, that those creatures, animated by the impulse 
 of a generous gratitude, sensible of the benevolence to 
 
 * Mor. and Polit. Phil. Book II. Chap. iii. 
 t w The degree of a thing makes no difference in its nature." 
 
 18 
 
206 ORIGIN OP MORAL OBLIGATION. 
 
 which they were thus indebted, should, on this very ac- 
 count, have felt themselves bound to make the glory of 
 their all-gracious Ruler their chief aim, and to act under 
 the influence of this motive as their most powerful im- 
 pulse. If he sought their happiness, they should seek his 
 honor. If benevolence commanded, piety should obey. 
 The creature who can discover no ground of obligation 
 but in summing up the columns of self-interest, (no mat- 
 ter whether for time or for eternity, the principle being 
 the same,) is not actuated by piety ; for he is giving self 
 the preference to God ; placing his own benefit above the 
 divine glory; professing to obey God's will, but convert- 
 ing the profession into an empty compliment, by render- 
 ing the obedience from an exclusive regard to his own 
 advantage. I like not this mercantile morality, — this 
 pounds-shillings-and-pence system of obligation and duty. 
 I come still to the same conclusion: — that, the principles 
 of rectitude necessarily subsisting in the divine character, 
 the commands of Deity to his creatures, were necessarily 
 in conformity with them; — that the grounds of moral ob- 
 ligation lie in the essential, eternal, and immutable nature 
 of these principles, in the relation of the great Creator to 
 his creatures, antecedently to all other considerations; 
 and that the happiness resulting from conformity to his 
 will, which is the same thing as conformity to his char- 
 acter, is as really the native and necessary effect of these 
 principles, as is the infinite and unchanging blessedness 
 of the Creator himself. 
 
 In next Lecture, we shall consider the identity of mo- 
 rality and religion. 
 
LECTURE VII. 
 
 ON THE IDENTITY OF MORALITY AND RELIGION. 
 
 1 John V. 3. 
 " This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments." 
 We have traced the primary elements of mo- Eternity, im- 
 
 ... . mutability, 
 
 rality back to that point where all our re- anduniver- 
 
 , , , . , sality of the 
 
 searches must inevitably terminate, — the ne- principles of 
 cessity of the divine nature. Beyond this moras 
 point we cannot go. Of the abstract subsistence of prin- 
 ciples, independent of all being whatever, we are incapa- 
 ble of forming any conception ; nay, the very attempt to 
 form it involves us in immediate contradiction. There 
 can be no principles without mind ; and to annihilate 
 mind is to annihilate principles. — Even the imaginary 
 annihilation of mind, moreover, is beyond our power; for 
 were we capable of realizing in fancy the cessation of all 
 existence but our own, — our own remains, mocking all 
 our efforts at self-extinction. We still survive, in con- 
 cious being, contemplating the universal desolation wiiich 
 our fancy has made. — Before the commencement of cre- 
 ation, when all being was comprehended in the solitary 
 Godhead, the Infinite Mind was the only seat of all ex- 
 isting principles. The elements of moral rectitude were 
 there, as the necessary character of the necessarily ex- 
 
208 IDENTITY OF 
 
 istent Deity] and we can form no other idea of moral 
 rectitude in his creatures, than as the voluntary commu- 
 nication from himself of the principles of his own all- 
 perfect nature. 
 
 The inference is immediate from the necessary unde- 
 rived subsistence of these principles in Deity, that they 
 must be eternal, immutable, and universal. They must 
 be eternal : for if their primary and necessary substance 
 was in the mind of the Godhead, to question their eternity 
 is to question his. They must be immutable : for, as the 
 necessity of his existence involves immutability, so does 
 the necessity of the principles of his character: — and, 
 the principles of his character forming the essential ele- 
 ments of moral rectitude, while Deity remains what he is, 
 these elements must possess a corresponding unchangea- 
 bleness. And from the same premises is derived, with no 
 less certainty, the conclusion of their universality. The 
 universe is the product of one Mind. There can be noth- 
 ing in it, therefore, which, when rightly understood, will 
 be found contradictory. As far as human research has 
 hitherto extended, wisdom and skill have been apparent 
 in all the departments of nature; the increasing light 
 of science, instead of detecting any failures or defects, 
 having progressively illustrated known, and elicited un- 
 known, wonders ; and from the uniformity with which 
 every fresh accession to the means of scientific discovery 
 has added to the manifestations of divine intelligence, we 
 reasonably infer, that, could its investigations embrace the 
 whole extent of creation, the result would be still the 
 same. And if we assume infinite intelligence to belong 
 to Deity, there results a still surer hypothetical certainty, 
 that all the productions of that intelligence must be such 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 209 
 
 as to require knowledge alone on our part to insure the 
 discernment of their excellence. 
 
 In the same manner, and with no less confidence, may 
 we reason from the moral principles of the Divine nature, 
 to the substantial identity of the principles of moral recti- 
 tude throughout the universe. If we feel assured of uni- 
 versal consistency in the manifestations of his intellectual, 
 we can never hesitate to admit the same assurance in 
 regard to the displays of his moral, character. The 
 assurance in the one case must be even stronger, were it 
 possible, than in the other. Our minds experience a more 
 irresistible revulsion from the supposition of anything 
 like a departure from moral consistency, than they do from 
 the conception (were such conception possible) of a failure 
 in the practical results of mere intelligence. 
 
 I grant the difficulty that here presses itself Difficulty 
 
 r , t -i • from the ex- 
 
 upon our notice, from the actual prevalence, m istence of 
 our own world, of moral evil. I formerly ad- 
 verted to the impossibility of reading the lesson of divine 
 holiness from the character of man as it now meets our 
 view; and to the unsatisfactory nature of all the solu- 
 tions of this anomaly in the administration of a holy and 
 good Being, adopted by either ancient or modern philoso- 
 phy. — I know few things of greater importance, on this 
 mysterious subject, than to bear in mind the distinction 
 between a matter of fact and an article of faith. In 
 many minds, I am persuaded, there is more than a ten- 
 dency to regard the existence of moral evil in the latter 
 of these two lights, — as if it were an article of faith, 
 resting on the authority, and supported by the evidence 
 of the revelation in which it is affirmed. This, however, 
 is a manifest illusion. The manner, it is true, in which 
 sin found its entrance into our world rests exclusively on 
 *18 
 
210 IDENTITY OF 
 
 the authority of the sacred record. But its existence is a 
 fact in providence, altogether independent of the truth or 
 falsehood of the narrative in Genesis ; altogether inde- 
 pendent of any human theory, or any divine discovery, 
 of its origin. The Bible assumes the fact of human sin- 
 fulness, and proceeds upon it; but it is not the Bible's 
 affirming men sinners, or informing us how they became 
 sinners, that has made them so. It was a fact before 
 revelation existed, and would have continued a fact had 
 no revelation been given. The fact exists, and cannot be 
 reasoned away. The Bible is no more responsible for the 
 entrance of sin, than any history of England is responsi- 
 ble for the gunpowder treason, or for any other plot or 
 deed of wickedness it may record. — So far from being 
 at all the occasion or originator of our perplexities, the 
 Bible contains their only mitigation, their only solution. 
 However puzzled we may be to demonstrate the moral 
 excellences of Deity from the character of human nature 
 in its present state, the discoveries of the Gospel set our 
 minds, in this respect, at rest. These discoveries contain 
 the most satisfactory evidence, that his not interposing to 
 prevent the entrance of sin was not occasioned by any 
 light estimate of its evil, or by any disposition to connive 
 at its perpetration. The nature of the means adopted for 
 ks expiation and removal, is infinitely more than sufficient 
 to obliterate any surmise at such connivance, which 
 might be suggested by the fact of its permission. We 
 see him more distinctly and emphatically demonstrated to 
 be "the righteous Lord, who loveth righteousness, and 
 whose countenance doth behold the upright," than if evil 
 had never existed. The testimony of revealed facts, as 
 well as the verbal affirmation of the record, is, that " God 
 is light," and that "God is love." 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 2l 1 
 
 In a former discourse I bad occasion to show Beautiful 
 you, what a perfect harmony there, is between tweSTthe 6 " 
 the existing facts of God's providential admin- D e hyfo r ° f 
 istration towards our world, and the representa- J^S^ce, 
 tion given in the Scriptures of its condition as SmpSoIT 
 a fallen world ; — how precisely the mingled 
 state of suffering and enjoyment, of curse and blessing, 
 which everywhere presents itself to the view of even 
 the most superficial observer, corresponds with what 
 we might a priori have anticipated, under the superin- 
 tendence of a Being, who, though justly offended, still 
 retained the benignity of his nature : the calamities and 
 sufferings of mankind being the judicial visitations of 
 his just displeasure against sin, while the variety and 
 profusion of good enjoyed are the manifestations of lin- 
 gering compassion for sinners, — the compassion of a 
 Being, who " in wrath remembered mercy." 
 
 While in this way the eternal principles of moral recti- 
 tude in Deity, the "light" and "love" of the divine na- 
 ture, are made apparent in his providential administration, 
 there is a further harmony, no less beautiful and interesting, 
 between this manifestation of them and that still higher 
 one which it is the special purpose of revelation to make 
 known. This harmony forms a delightful field of medi- 
 tative contemplation ; and, while it delights, it profits : — 
 it supplies conviction of most important truths, and espe- 
 cially of the identity of the God of providence and the 
 God of redemption, — of the God of nature and the God 
 of revelation. — The harmony of design and operation in 
 the universe, is one of the arguments usually and satisfac- 
 torily urged in support of the great doctrine of the divine 
 Unity. In surveying and investigating the works of na- 
 ture in all parts of the world, it is finely remarked by Dr. 
 
212 IDENTITY OF 
 
 Paley,* " We never get among such original or totally 
 different modes of existence, as to indicate that we are 
 come into the province of a different Creator, or under 
 the direction of a different will. The same order of 
 things attends us wherever we go." Now it has often 
 occurred to me, that this mode of reasoning might be 
 carried out a little further, on a principle similar to that 
 on which Bishop Butler has constructed his admirable 
 "Analogy." If the discovery, in every department of 
 nature, of the same great principles of operation, satisfac- 
 torily proves the whole to have been the contrivance and 
 the work of one Mind; — if, in traversing the universe, 
 we have everywhere the marks of identity in the creating 
 and superintending Intellect, so as "never to feel that we 
 are come into the province of a different Creator, or under 
 the direction of a different will;" let us take another 
 step, — let us pass from nature and providence to revela- 
 tion, and try whether we do not still trace marks of the 
 same identity, — indications, no less striking and satisfac- 
 tory, that the discoveries of the Gospel come from the 
 same Being who framed and governs the universe, and 
 especially who conducts the providential administration 
 of our own world. 
 
 It is quite obvious, that there must be a harmony be- 
 tween the lessons of nature and providence and the les- 
 sons of revelation. If they come from the same God, 
 they cannot be at variance. If they relate to the pro- 
 cedure of the same God, the plans and acts ascribed to 
 him in the latter cannot fail to be in accordance with the 
 principles of character which are shown to belong to him 
 by the former. The two volumes of discovery must, in 
 
 * Nat. Theol. chap. xxv. 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 213 
 
 this respect, correspond with each other. I am far from 
 meaning that revelation is no more than an authoritative 
 republication to mankind of the lessons of nature; — a 
 hypothesis, than which it is not easy to imagine anything 
 more unreasonable. But even in those parts of the divine 
 administration which are peculiar to revelation, and 
 which it is the special province and design of revelation to 
 unfold, there must be nothing contrary to the intimations of 
 the divine character conveyed in nature and in providence. 
 It is in one point only that we can touch this interest- 
 ing subject. I have no argument with the man, who can 
 peruse the Bible without finding and acknowledging that 
 its grand peculiarity is the discovery of a scheme of re- 
 demption and restoration for our fallen race. I enter not 
 into any discussion of the means which this scheme un- 
 folds for accomplishing the end ; — although I am sen- 
 sible the consideration of them would materially aid the 
 development of my present point. I simply ask, What 
 are the lights in which the formation and execution of 
 the purpose of saving man place the divine character? 
 The salvation itself, avowed in the revealed purpose of 
 God, is a salvation from guilt and punishment to pardon 
 and life, and from the pollution and degradation of sin to 
 the beauty, and dignity, and felicity of holiness. The 
 points of view in which it most conspicuously sets the 
 character of God are two, — his purity and his mercy. 
 It affirms with equal emphasis, by practical manifesta- 
 tion, "God is light" and "God is love." Now, this 
 double view of the divine character is precisely what we 
 are taught respecting it by the true state of things in na- 
 ture and in providence. There, as we have before shown 
 yon, the Supreme Ruler appears, first, as hating sin ; his 
 hatred of it being attested in every form of suffering to 
 
214 IDENTITY OF 
 
 which the world is subject: and secondly, as benevolent 
 and beneficent to his creatures, even in the very midst 
 of their trespasses, — " kind to the unthankful and to 
 the evil," — pouring down the showers of his blessing 
 on the thankless soil, that yields him nothing in re- 
 turn but briers and thorns. — When, therefore, having 
 found in all the departments of nature the indications of 
 the divine unity, we pass from these into the region of 
 redemption, do we feel (to use the language of Paley) as 
 if now we had come " into the province of a different Be- 
 ing, and under the direction of a different will ? " No; 
 — no more than in passing from one department in crea- 
 tion to another. There is still one God. The God of 
 redemption is the same as the God of creation and of 
 providence. The volume of salvation reads us the very 
 same lessons concerning him as those thai are read by us 
 in the volume of nature, — only more clearly, and more 
 impressively ; lessons of his righteousness and of his mer- 
 cy, of his light and of his love. 
 
 It is a beautiful image, by which Cudworth demon- 
 strates from the harmony of the universe the necessary 
 origination of the whole, in all its variety of parts, from 
 one all-comprehensive Mind : — " As he that hears a con- 
 cert of musicians playing a lesson of six or eight several 
 parts, all conspiring to make up one harmony, will imme- 
 diately conclude that there is some other cause of that 
 harmony besides those several particular efficients, thai 
 struck the several instruments ; for every one of them 
 would be but a cause of his own part which he played ; 
 but the unity of the whole harmony, into which all the 
 several parts conspire, must needs proceed from the art 
 and musical skill of some one mind, the exemplary and 
 archetypal cause of that vocal harmony, which was but 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 215 
 
 a passive print or stamp of it : — so, though the atheist 
 might possibly persuade himself, that every particular 
 creature was the first author or efficient of that part which 
 it played in the universe, by a certain innate power of its 
 own : yet all the parts of the mundane system conspiring 
 into one perfect harmony, there must of necessity be some 
 one universal mind, the archetypal and exemplary cause 
 thereof, containing the plot of the whole mundane music, 
 as one entire thing made up of so many several parts 
 within himself." * 
 
 Redemption is but adding a new part to this anthem of 
 universal nature. It introduces no jarring note; it only 
 elevates, enriches, and sweetens the harmony. Or, if you 
 will, it is itself a distinct symphony, yet so attuned to the 
 other, as, without silencing and without disturbing it, to 
 swell above it, in strains of heavenly sublimity and pa- 
 thos, that " take the prisoned soul and lap it" in the ec- 
 stacy of pure devotion to that "one universal Mind" of 
 whose excellences it is the worthy celebration. — The 
 " songs and choral symphonies " of those " sons of light 
 who circle God's throne rejoicing"! and whose anthem, 
 is, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, 
 and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and 
 glory, and blessing ! " are so far from being out of har- 
 mony with the anthem of nature, that nature universally, 
 continuing the notes of her own anthem, adopts the theme 
 and the words of the angelic choirs: "every creature 
 which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, 
 and in the sea, — even all that are in them," being heard, 
 in response to the " ten thousand times ten thousand and 
 thousands of thousands," saying, " Blessing and honor, 
 
 * Etern. and Immut. Moral, pp. 177 — 179. t Milton. 
 
216 IDENTITY OP 
 
 and glory and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the 
 throne, and unto the Lamb fcrever and ever ! " 
 
 And while there is thus a perfect harmony between the 
 voice of redemption and the voice of nature, in regard to 
 the God whom they both reveal; there is the same harmony 
 between redemption and the phenomena of providence. 
 That which is seen with comparative obscurity in God's 
 general administration towards our world, — the union, 
 namely, in the Divine Ruler, of holy righteousness with 
 inexhaustible goodness, appears, in all its clearness of 
 manifestation and fullness of glory, in the purpose and 
 execution of the scheme of redemption ; — and appears 
 with a radiance, of which it is difficult to say whether 
 the sweetness or the brilliance predominates, — whether 
 it most attracts by its loveliness or awes by its grandeur. 
 The one transaction of Calvary combines the lessons of 
 God taught by all the diversified operations of nature and 
 dispensations of providence. The cross speaks the double 
 language of justice and of grace, of offended holiness 
 and relenting mercy. It thus identifies with the intima- 
 tions of providence. It speaks the same language, on the 
 one hand, as the tempest, the volcano, the pestilence, the 
 famine, and all the varieties of human woe : and the 
 same, on the other, as the exhilarating, warming, fructifj^- 
 ing sun, the rains and the dews of heaven, and all the 
 luxuriance of the productive earth. — Thus redemption, 
 and creation, and providence, evince themselves to be only 
 varied manifestations of the same Infinite Mind. They 
 show a common origin from the one great " exemplary 
 and archetypal Cause." The word of God corresponds 
 with his works ; and redemption, by its very harmony 
 with all the other manifestations of the Godhead, be- 
 comes an additional proof of the Divine unity ! 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 217 
 
 Further: — As there is a necessary harmony between 
 the divine character and the divine will, whatever con- 
 tains in it an intimation that "God is light" and that 
 11 God is love," may be regarded as containing in it also 
 a voice to all his intelligent creatures — " Be ye holy, for 
 I am holy ;•" — " be ye merciful, as your Father who is 
 in heaven is merciful." This is, in truth, the sum of hu- 
 man virtue, and the sum of the motives to the practice of 
 it : and this, were the ears of men but upon to hear it, is 
 the concurrent voice of providence and of revelation. — 
 By this remark I am naturally led to the proper subject 
 of the present discourse, — the identity of morality and 
 religion : a subject which the preceding observations have 
 not only been intended to introduce, but in part, prospec- 
 tively, to illustrate. 
 
 The words which I read as my text express, jjjjj^f' *_ 
 with clearness and emphasis, this identity ; — ^n^nthy 
 
 "This is the love of God, that we keep his of religion 
 
 ■ ana morai- 
 
 commandments." The "keeping of God's com- ity. 
 
 mandments" is a comprehensive definition of morality: — 
 "the love of God" is the «um of religious principle: — 
 and the text affirms. " This is the love of God, that we 
 keep his commandments." The meaning is, that there is 
 no love of God without the keeping of his command- 
 ment?,' and that there is no keeping of his commandments 
 without love to God : a statement which amounts to the 
 same thing as this other, — that there is no religion with- 
 out morality, and that there is no morality without reli- 
 gion. He who loves God keeps the commandments in 
 principle ; he who keeps the commandments loves God in 
 action. Love is obedience in the heart; obedience is love 
 in the life. Morality, then, is religion in practice ; reli- 
 gion is morality in principle. 
 19 
 
218 IDENTITY OF 
 
 I know few things more preposterous in the- Pernicious 
 ory, or more mischievous in effect, than the pre- their separa- 
 vailing divorce between religion and morality; wSi LcT 
 the manner in which they are not only spoken p Ie»! ° 8 
 of in the current vocabulary of the world, but even treat- 
 ed in the disquisitions of philosophy, as if they were sep- 
 arable and separate things. — As to the world ; you can- 
 not but be aware, how indefinite is the meaning of virtue, 
 and with what variety of application, but in them all 
 with what convenient vagueness and generality, the 
 designation is bestowed of a good man. On 'Change, the 
 good man is the man who has sufficient means, and suffi- 
 cient honor, to pay his debts. In the ordinary inter- 
 course of life, its most common application is to the 
 relative and social virtues, and especially those which 
 impart confidence between man and man; without which, 
 it is universally felt, the transactions of business would be 
 at a stand, the mutual dependence of men upon each 
 other could havo. no salutary operation, and the very 
 frame- work of society -»r uld be dissolved. 
 
 These virtues, the virtues, of truth, and integrity, and 
 honor, especially when united with generosity, and prac- 
 tical kindness, will secure the designation, although there 
 should be no very rigid adherence to those ot temperance 
 and chastity ;. but if these, in any unusual degree, are 
 united with the former, the man becomes a paragon of 
 goodness, the very best of men, and sure of heaven, if 
 any on earth are. The union described is a rarity, except 
 under the superadded influence of religious principle: — 
 but we shall suppose it. We shall suppose a man per- 
 sonally chaste and sober in his habits of life, amiable in 
 its domestic relations, honorable in all its transactions, 
 veracious in every utterance, and faithful in every trust ; 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 219 
 
 and, withal, humane and generous in his dispositions and 
 practice; — What, it maybe asked, can be wished for 
 more ? " What lacketh he yet V 1 I answer in one word 
 — godliness ; — that which is entitled to the precedence 
 of all these virtues, — nay, more, that which ought to 
 preside over them all, and to infuse its spirit into them all, 
 and without which they are destitute of the very first 
 principle of true morality. 
 
 But it is not in the customary phraseology of the world 
 only, and the loose conceptions of which that phraseol- 
 ogy is the vehicle, that religion and morality are severed. 
 It is lamentable to find, in the writings of ethical philoso- 
 pher?, the same dissociating principle ; — discussions on 
 morals, such as would require no very material alteration 
 to accommodate them to atheism ; and even at times in 
 the treatises of philosophical divines, so indistinct a recog- 
 nition of the basis on which the whole system of ethics 
 ought ever to rest. It is far otherwise in the union of 
 Holy Scriptures : — and I cannot but regard ^ture*: 
 the manner, in this and other respects, in which J,eM°!f b the 
 these writings uniformly treat the subject of umon - 
 morals, as forming one, and not the least considerable, of 
 the internal evidences of their divine original. It is one 
 of the distinguishing peculiarities of all Bible morality, 
 that it begins with God, — that it makes godliness its 
 first and fundamental principle.* The first command- 
 ment in the Moral Code of the Bible is a requisition for 
 God: — "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
 heart, with all thy soul, with all thy strength, and with 
 all thy mind." Thus God stands first. For him is 
 claimed the throne of the heart. The foundation of all 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note O. 
 
220 IDENTITY OF 
 
 morals is laid in devotion. No right moral principle is 
 there admitted to exist, independent of a primary and su- 
 preme regard to Deity. No true goodness is acknowl- 
 edged without this. There is no such anomaly to be 
 found there, as that which meets us so frequently in the 
 nomenclature of the world's morality, — a good heart, or 
 a good man, without the principles and sentiments of 
 godliness. According to its representations, the religious 
 principle is the first principle of all morals ; — a good 
 heart is a heart in which the fear and the love of God 
 reign ; and a good man, a man of whose life the love and 
 the fear of God are the uniform regulators. Everything 
 assuming the name of virtue that has not these principles 
 for its foundation, is there set aside, as coin that has not 
 the image and superscription of Heaven, "reprobate sil- 
 ver," — " weighed in the balances, and found wanting." 
 
 Now, let reason speak. " Why, even of yourselves," 
 said Jesus on one occasion to the Jews, making his appeal 
 to their own understandings for the truth of what he said, 
 " Why, even of yourselves, judge ye not that which is 
 right?" So say we now. Is not this as it ought to be? 
 Does not the Bible, in the ground it takes, give God his 
 proper place? In making the religious principle the es- 
 sential element of all goodness, does it not set the system 
 of morality on its legitimate basis? The ground is high ; 
 but is it not right? Can you imagine an accredited rev- 
 elation to have taken any other ? Would not the adop- 
 lion of a lower position, in any book pretending to be 
 from God, have been, of itself, sufficient to discredit and 
 rupudiate its pretensions? I plead for God. We are of- 
 ten told, that relative morality consists in giving every 
 one his due: I object not to the definition ; but 1 must in- 
 sist upon it, that the application of the definition should 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 221 
 
 commence at the highest point in the scale of obligation. 
 Is there nothing due from creatures, but to their fellow 
 creatures? Has the everlasting God no dues? Is not 
 reverence his due ? Is not love his due ? Is not worship 
 his due ? Is not obedience his due ? It must not be, that 
 we tamely submit to the exclusion of Deity ; — to the 
 unnatural and unworthy omission or depreciation of the 
 rights and claims of the Eternal. We cannot acquiesce 
 in his being thus degraded to a secondary station ; di- 
 vested, in any point, of his authority, and thrust out, 
 unceremoniously, from the motives of moral duty. His 
 law, I repeat, as he himself has promulgated it, places 
 him first : and that, not merely because the obligation to 
 God is the first that binds the creature, but because, in 
 this obligation to God, all other obligations originate ; 
 they depend upon it ; they are comprehended in it. — 
 What are the duties which we owe to our fellow crea- 
 tures, but integrant parts of his law? It is as his pre- 
 cepts that they must be fulfilled ; so that, if they are duly 
 done, they must be done from regard to his authority, 
 which amounts to the same thing with their being done 
 from a religious principle. It is on this account, that 
 there can be no morality without religion ; because every 
 moral dut}' resolves itself into a dictate of divine author- 
 ity, and it is only from regard to that authority that it 
 can be duly performed : — for, whatever be the principles 
 that determine the divine will, that will, as I have former- 
 ly shown, is the immediate ground of obligation to the 
 creature. — The precepts of the first and second tables of 
 the law come equally under the designation of moral du- 
 ties. The obligation to the one and to the other is the 
 very same. The man who obeys his parents, who keeps 
 *19 
 
222 IDENTITY OF 
 
 his word, who pays his debts, who dispenses his charities, 
 who performs any other acts, under the influence of prin- 
 ciples that rise no higher than to a recognition of the 
 claims of his fellow creatures, has the first principles of 
 moral obligation yet to learn. 
 
 It is to be feared, that, in the department of illusory sub- 
 
 . r ii-i Btitution of 
 
 morals as well as in that of natural philosophy, Nature for 
 there is an illusion by which, through the athe- 
 istical tendencies of the heart, (perhaps, in some instan- 
 ces, almost unconsciously,) not a few minds are misled. 
 The illusion to which I refer arises from the substitution 
 of the word Nature for God. In the disquisitions of the 
 natural philosopher, this description of frosopepaia is so 
 prevalent, that there seems at times to be an entire forget- 
 fulness of its being no more than a figure of speech. 
 Nature assumes in the mind an imaginary personality, — 
 like the myterious " plastic power" of some of the an- 
 cients ; — putting forth voluntary energies, in the produc- 
 tion, arrangement, and superintendence of the universe. 
 Nature wills, nature plans, nature acts, nature gives laws 
 and attends to their execution. Nature, in this manner, 
 by the very frequency of the recurrence of such phrase- 
 ology, instead of being regarded as merely an influence, 
 or the product of that influence, slides imperceptibly into 
 the place which should be occupied by the God of nature ; 
 and his immediate and universal agencj', " ever present, 
 ever felt," is apt to be forgotten. 
 
 Now, thus it also happens in the science of ethics. 
 Moral theorists speak of the dictates of nature, till they, 
 too, are in danger of forgetting "Nature's God." Nature 
 teaches parents to love their children, and children to be 
 dutiful to their parents ; nature inculcates truth and hu- 
 
MORALITY ANE RELIGION. 223 
 
 inanity ; nature reprobates malevolence and falsehood. I 
 am not now speaking of the soundness or heterodoxy of 
 the theology, or of the conformity or disconformity of the 
 statement to fact; but simply of the tendency of the lan- 
 guage : and the tendency is much the same in this de- 
 partment as in the former. The laws of nature are spo- 
 ken of, till it slips out of mind that they are the laws of 
 God ; and the real impulse, or the supposed dictate, of 
 nature, assumes the place of the divine will. So far, in- 
 deed has this been carried, that by one philosopher, whose 
 theory was formerly under our review, — (the theory ac- 
 cording to which virtue and vice are distinguished hy the 
 opposite emotions to which, by a kind of moral instinct, 
 they respectively give rise, antecedently, and in order, to 
 the decision of the judgment,) — obeJience to the natural 
 impulse is regarded and eulogized as virtue, even in cases 
 where not only is all consideration of the will of God ab- 
 sent from the mind, but God himself is unknown, and 
 demons of hellish malignity are dreaded and worshiped 
 in his room ! 
 
 "Of all mothers," says Dr, Brown, "who at this mo- 
 ment, on the earth, are exercised, and virtuously exercised, 
 in maternal duties, around the cradles of their infants, 
 there is, perhaps, net one who is thinking that God has 
 commanded her to love her offspring, and to perform for 
 them the many offices of love which are necessary for 
 preserving the lives that are so dear to her. The ex- 
 pression of the divine will, indeed, not only gives us new 
 and nobler duties to perform, it gives a new and nobler 
 delight also to the very duties which our nature prompts, 
 and the violation of which is felt as moral wrong, even 
 when God is known and worshiped only as a demon of 
 
224 IDENTITY OP 
 
 power still less benevolent than the very barbarians who 
 howl around his altar in their savage sacrifice."* 
 
 It is admitted by this philosopher, that there is " no 
 question whether it be virtue to conform our will to that 
 of the Deity, when that will is revealed to us, or clearly 
 implied." But while he grants this, he denies that, in 
 order to constitute this conformity virtue, there is any 
 necessity for its being, on the part of the agent, intention- 
 al. As our nature (our nature as we now inherit it) is, 
 according to him, from God, there may be virtue in acting 
 according to its impulses, although the will and authori- 
 ty of God is never thought of, and consequently, enters 
 not at all into the motive of the action. But this is a 
 species of virtue, which the Scriptures nowhere recognize. 
 They place virtue in the principle ; and the principle in 
 which it is made to consist is, distinctly and exclusively, 
 subjection to the divine will. There is nothing to be 
 found in them of such sentimental morality, as that 
 which lies in obeying the impulses of a nature, which, at 
 the very same time, is manifesting its ungodly charac- 
 ter, by preferring to the God of purity and love a demon 
 of ferocity and vileness. There is no such separation in 
 them of nature and the God of nature; nor any recogni- 
 tion of aught as genuine virtue, in the motive to which 
 the divine Being has no place. 
 
 Abstract virtue is in the Bible holiness; which means 
 conformity to the will, or to the character of God ; actual 
 
 * I say nothing of the particular case here selected, — that of ma- 
 ternal fondness; although it belongs to rather an equivocal class of 
 virtues, — being one of those instincts of our nature, which are 
 common to us with the brutes, and which, while it is atrociously im- 
 moral to resist and violate, it implies no great measure of moral 
 principle to possess. 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 225 
 
 or practical virtue is this conformity in the intention and 
 conduct of the agent ; and the whole of this intentional 
 conformity is there represented as springing from the 
 principle of supreme love to the Infinite Source of all ex- 
 cellence. This spiritual principle, this divine affection, 
 must enter into the obedience of every precept ; it must 
 not only be in the heart, along with its other affections : 
 but it must incorporate itself with ;ill the rest, and impart 
 its sacred and sanctifying impulse to the exercise of every 
 one of them. We dare not, if we follow the Bible, admit 
 the validity of any man's claim to moral character, who 
 regards not the very source and origin of all moral obli- 
 gation, and the primary object of every moral sentiment ; 
 but must disown the very association of morality with 
 such a character, as a solecism in language. Ir religion 
 and moral principle cannot exist together in the same 
 bosom ; for irreligion is the rejection of that authority in 
 which all moral obligation has its origin;— -and to live 
 without God is necessarily to live without virtue. 11 * 
 
 The state of the heart toward God entered but little 
 into the systems of heathen Ethics. How could it? 
 The true God was unknown ; and towards the " gods 
 many and lords many" of their Pantheon, love was cut 
 of the question. These deities were either themselves the 
 creations of ignorant or guilty fear, a fear utterly alien 
 from every sentiment of complacency ; or their characters 
 were such, that to love them must have been to love evil 
 rather than good. Love to such beings would have been 
 the principle, not of virtue, but of vice. All the rites in 
 the ceremonial of heathen worship, were of old, and are 
 still, either the expressions of superstitious dread, or the 
 
 * Notes and II lustra tipps, Note P, 
 
225 IDENTITY OF 
 
 direct indulgence, or indirect excitement, of some one or 
 other of the varieties of sensual appetite and earthly pas- 
 sion. Where, amongst the entire assemblage of the gods 
 of ancient or modern polytheism, is there one to be found, 
 whose attributes can give origin or exercise to any such 
 principle as holy love? This is an affection of the soul 
 of which the only appropriate object is that infinitely 
 amiable Being whom revelation discloses; and who is 
 also, indeed, visible in the works of his hands and the 
 ways of his providence, but that men, " not liking to retain 
 him in their knowledge," have shut their eyes to the 
 manifestation of his loveliness. 
 The state of The first lesson, then, in the elements of mor- 
 
 tho heart to- . ' . 
 
 wards Goi, al science, as taught by the Bible, is, that the 
 
 first in the . , . ""£ ,. . ... . 
 
 Bible esti- primary relation of all intelligent creatures be- 
 
 mato of mor- . . , . . . . , . „, 
 
 ai character, ing that which they sustain to their Creator, 
 and bad? the Creator must be the object of their first 
 love ; — and that, the first relation being also the high- 
 est, this love must be supreme. And, in conformity with 
 this view of the first principle of moral rectitude in the 
 subjects of the divine government, are all the representa- 
 tions contained in the same book of the essential elements 
 of depravity and wickedness. When the question is 
 asked, Who are the wicked ? — the answer will be given 
 more or less comprehensively, according to the different 
 standards of character set up in their minds by those 
 who, following the universal propensity of mankind, 
 " measure themselves by themselves, and compare them- 
 selves amongst themselves." But whilst, in the Scrip- 
 tures, all the violations of personal purity, and all the 
 infractions of relative obligation between man and man, 
 are denounced as wickedness, there is a higher principle 
 assumed; and all wickedness is summed up in the one 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 227 
 
 fundamental evil of alienation from God. The " righteous 
 and the wicked" identify with "those who serve God, 
 and those who serve him not." The "wicked," w 7 ho 
 shall be " turned into hell," are " all the people that for- 
 get God." This, in the estimate of heaven, is the grand 
 elementary distinction of human characters. The con- 
 troversy of the Supreme Governor with man turns essen- 
 tially on this. one point. The righteous are "those that 
 fear God ; " the wicked those who have " no fear of God 
 before their eyes." This is the line of demarcation be- 
 tween the two great classes of men into which, in his 
 word, the whole race is divided. On many occasions, it 
 is true, the distinction may be more or less strongly 
 marked by the different modes of conduct, or courses of 
 life, in which the influence or the absence of the fear of 
 God discovers itself; — but still, all the practical differ- 
 ences are resolvable into the possession or the want of this 
 one principle. 
 
 According to the intimations of his mind, given us in 
 the volume of revelation, the Ruler and Judge of all 
 never appears as approving cr accepting any character, 
 in which this principle does not maintain the ascendant ; 
 or as setting the seal of his sanction to any sj 7 stem of 
 moral virtue, of which godliness is not the essential ele- 
 ment and impelling spring. And surely, in every con- 
 siderate mind, in every mind that is not utterly blinded 
 by corruption, there must be a secret conviction that this 
 is right. Why should not the violation of the greatest 
 of all obligations be held as the greatest of all wicked- 
 ness? When we find (as we sometimes do) among men 
 who make no pretensions to piety, much of the amiable 
 and commendable in the exercise of the social affections, 
 we are apt to shrink from using, or to use with a dubious 
 
228 IDENTITY OF 
 
 hesitancy, the divine designation of the human heart, as 
 "desperately wicke I." But why this shrinking ? Why 
 this hesitancy ? Do we not at once, and indignantly, 
 pronounce the verdict of wickedness on the man who 
 fails of what is due, and who tramples on legitimate 
 claims, in the different relations of life ? Do we not ap- 
 ply the epithet without scruple, to the cruel and faithless 
 husband, to the harsh and unnatural parent, to the un- 
 grateful and rebellious child, to the unrighteous and op- 
 pressive master, to the faithless servant, to the treacher- 
 ous friend, to the traitorous subject, to the ruthless tyrant, 
 to the iron-hearted miser, — to every one who flagrantly 
 infringes on the rights of others, and withholds what is 
 due, either in justice, or in generosity ? If, then, we imprint 
 the brand of wickedness on the infraction of the inferior 
 obligations, shall we pause and hesitate in affixing it to 
 the breach of the superior ? Ought not the violation of 
 the highest of all claims to be branded with the deepest 
 stigma of reprobation? Why is he to be counted wicked, 
 who fails to give his fellow men their due, while the des- 
 ignation is tenderly and courteously withheld from him, 
 who in principle denies, or in practice withholds, what 
 is due to his Maker? He demands the heart of every 
 intelligent creature : and it is wickedness to withhold it. 
 He demands the conscience, the obedience, the active 
 service, of every intelligent creature : and it is wickedness 
 to withhold them. His demand takes precedence of every 
 other ; and it is wickedness to place others before it. If 
 he is wicked who wrongs men, he is superlatively wicked 
 who wrongs God. And not only is the ungodliness in 
 itself wicked; it is the essential element of wickedness in 
 all that is denominated wicked by ungodly men them- 
 selves; nor can any virtue whatever be duly practiced by 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 229 
 
 the man who is insensible to the sacredness of the very first 
 principle of moral obligation. 
 
 Delineate, like the Stoics, your imaginary portraiture 
 of a perfect man : — insert, in their full prominence, all 
 the personal and all the social virtues: — if you have left 
 out godliness, you have omitted that which is essential to 
 the rectitude of each one in the series. Or, fill up with 
 all the vices that admit of combination the character of 
 the reprobate; if you have forgotten ungodliness, you 
 have left out the very worst of all its ingredients of evil. 
 Throughout the entire catalogue, there has run a breach 
 of obligation superior to any of the rest, and one that has 
 constituted the chief part of the heinousness of them all. 
 Every heart is a wicked heart, every life a wicked life, 
 that is without the fear of God. I ask again, Is not this 
 right ? Is it not what on all reasonable grounds was to 
 be expected, that, in a divinely dictated system of morals, 
 the first claim on the creature should be on behalf of the 
 Creator? — the first requisition, that the heart should be 
 " right with him 1 " Is there not a propriety, a seemli- 
 ness, & fitness in this, such as commands the immediate 
 assent of every understanding, and ought to command 
 the equally immediate concurrence and complacency of 
 every heart ? And is there not, at the same time, a sub- 
 limity and grandeur in this scriptural representation % — in 
 directing the eyes and the hearts of all intelligent crea- 
 tures, first and ever, to that ineffable Being, who is the 
 source of all existence, of all excellence, and of all hap- 
 piness ; and making love to him the grand principle of 
 union in the moral universe ; his authority the rule, his 
 glory the end, his goodness the motive, his favor the bliss, 
 and his character the example, of the whole rational cre- 
 ation % 
 
 20 
 
230 IDENTITY OP 
 
 Duty sum- According to the Scriptures, then, there is no 
 
 med up in ° . 
 
 love to^ God morality without religion ; for, of the two great 
 our neigh- principles in which the law of God is summed 
 
 bor. — Con- , ... 
 
 nection be- up, the first is the religious principle. And it 
 stands first, not as insulated from the other, and 
 capable of being neglected while the other is duly obeyed ; 
 but as demanding the first attention, and indispensable to 
 that moral state of the heart which is necessary to any 
 acceptable obedience whatever. " The second is like 
 unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." It is 
 like unto it, because the principle it inculcates is still love. 
 But love to the Creator takes precedence of love to the 
 creature ; nor can love to the creature be duly exercised 
 apart from love to the Creator. The former p e> upposes 
 the latter. Benevolence to man must be founded in devo- 
 tion to God. Fraternal affection presupposes filial ; the 
 love of brothers to each other springing from their love, 
 as children, to a common parent. These two principles 
 may be considered as embracing all religion and all mo- 
 rality : — but the religion is morality, and the morality is 
 religion. Love to God includes love to man ; because 
 love to man is one of the commandments of God, and 
 " this is the love of God, that we keep his commanments;" 
 — and love to man presupposes love to God ; because it is 
 as one of the commandments of God that love to man 
 must be cultivated and exemplified, and it is only from 
 the principle of love to God that any one of his com- 
 mandments can be duly and acceptably obeyed. Let us 
 briefly consider each of these two comprehensive affec- 
 tions, and their mutual relation to each other, 
 ingredients Love to God, though one affection, includes 
 
 of love to 
 
 God. in it, especially, the three following things — 
 
 COMPLACENCY IN THE DIVINE CHARACTER, GRATITUDE 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 231 
 
 FOR THE DIVINE GOODNESS, AND DELIGHT IN THE 
 DIVINE HAPPINESS. 
 
 1. Complacency in the divine character. — J^yT^the 
 The character of God is the perfect concentra- f™e char " 
 tion of all holy excellences ; and complacency 
 in this character can only be experienced by a mind that 
 is in unison with the divine. God is necessarily the 
 highest object of complacent delight to himself, — his 
 own infinite excellence to his own infinite mind. He is 
 himself at once the subject and the object of this compla- 
 cency : in himself it exists, and on himself it terminates. 
 Nothing short of infinite excellence can give scope for 
 infinite delight ; so that the infinite mind of Deity could 
 not have a full expansion, or a perfect gratification, of its 
 capacities of enjoyment, except as exercised upon himself. 
 Every holy creature, — every creature formed in the im- 
 age of God, participates with him, by a sympathy of its 
 whole moral nature, in this delight. And what is the 
 regeneration of a sinner, but the restoration to his soul of 
 this complacency in God, this sympathy with the divine 
 delight in the divine excellence? Love to God is love to 
 him for what he is, and for all that he is. It must regard 
 him in his entire character. A man may have a diseased 
 eye, that feels easy only when it rests on one or other of 
 the primary colors of rainbow light ; that is partial to the 
 red, the orange, the yellow, the green, the blue, the indi- 
 go, or the violet, but cannot bear the streaming radiance 
 of the white light that is composed of all the seven : — so 
 may a creature have a diseased and vitiated mind, partial 
 to some particular attribute or mode of the divine charac- 
 ter, taken out of connection with the rest, and therefore 
 erroneously and falsely viewed ; and incapable of endur- 
 ing the full effulgence of divine perfection, in the harmony 
 
232 IDENTITY OF 
 
 of its inseparable attributes. But to a creature retaining 
 its original character, there is not only no difficulty in the 
 exercise of this complacency, — it is its very nature : it 
 is the element in which it " lives and moves, and has its 
 being." 
 
 2. Gratitude 2. Gratitude for the divine goodness. — Every 
 
 for divine J ° J 
 
 goodness. existing creature owes to its Creator all that it 
 is, and has, and hopes for ; and from every creature that 
 is capable of knowing God, gratitude is due to him for 
 its being and its well-being. The complacency of which 
 we have been speaking is love to God for what he is, and 
 for the benevolence of his nature as manifested to crea- 
 tion in general : gratitude is love to him for his kindness 
 to us ; to us personally; to us relatively; — as members 
 of families, of circles of kindred, of communities, of the 
 race of mankind, — nay, we might stretch the associating 
 feeling of relation still further, and say, of the whole 
 rational and sensitive creation, considering ourselves as 
 part of the great system of being, sustaining a connection, 
 and conscious of a sympathy, with all that thinks, and 
 feels, and breathes. 
 
 ■In proportion as we are under the influence of benevo- 
 lence to others, we shall love God as the beneficent Author 
 of all the good that creatures throughout the universe en- 
 joy : — but still, from the very constitution of our nature, 
 our grateful love must ever be most fervent for the bless- 
 ings of which we ourselves are the recipients. The sa- 
 cred word is full of the devout utterance, both of the gen- 
 eral feelings of gratitude and praise to the blessed Author 
 of all good, and of the special aspirations of thankful- 
 ness for appropriate personal favors. 
 
 3. Delight in 3. Delight in the divine happiness. — They, 
 
 divine hap- . ° . 
 
 piness. 1 think, are perfectly correct, who hold that 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 233 
 
 Deity may be one, and ought to be the first of the objects 
 of benevolence or good will, in the bosoms of his intelli- 
 gent offspring. Some would exclude benevolence from 
 the feelings of creatures towards God, on the ground that 
 he cannot need it. But this, however seemingly specious, 
 is far from being conclusive. The sentiment of good will 
 does not at all arise from any perception or supposition of 
 the need of its exercise existing in its object. The more 
 fully a fellow creature possesses, within himself, powers, 
 and capacities, and means of enjoyment, the more inde- 
 pendent does he become for his enjoyment upon others. 
 Yet, if he be a creature sustaining a character that enti- 
 tles him to esteem and affection, this fullness of resources, 
 this approach to independence, does not in the least inter- 
 fere with our feelings of benevolent satisfaction in his 
 happiness. The more complete, on the contrary, that 
 happiness is, the better pleased are we with the knowledge 
 that it does not depend upon others, or even upon our- 
 selves. — The sentiment of which I speak is sympathy 
 with the joy of other beings — " rejoicing with them that 
 rejoice." By every right-hearted creature, this sympathy 
 must be experienced, in all its purity, and in all its inten- 
 sity, with the blessedness of Deity. This will be the 
 case, as far as a conception can be formed of the nature 
 and sources of that blessedness ; — and, even where that 
 conception fails, the general assurance that the blessed- 
 ness is infinite, will, to such a creature, be exquisitely de- 
 lightful. He feels that he cannot but return the love that 
 hath given him being; — he cannot but rejoice in his 
 Maker's joy, — in the absolute, unmingled, independent, 
 and immutable blessedness of the Father of all, — wheth- 
 er flowing from his own exhaustless self-sufficiency, or 
 from the accomplishment of the purposes of his goodness 
 *20 
 
234 IDENTITY OF 
 
 and righteousness. How pure, how sublime, how enno- 
 bling, my brethren, this sentiment of sympathy with the 
 divine happiness ! — a sentiment by which we enter into 
 the heart of Deity, and hold a communion of holy delight 
 with the eternal Fountain of life and joy. Higher in 
 honor, higher in enjoyment, no created nature can possi- 
 bly be raised. 
 
 The love of It is impossible, I have already observed, that 
 bor. love to God, which has been thus described, can 
 
 exist and operate in any mind, but in proportion as that 
 mind is in a state of moral unison with the mind of the 
 Godhead ; and, wherever this is the case, the " keeping 
 of God's commandments" will (as our text intimates) be 
 its unfailing indication. Holy love being the essential 
 element of the divine character in relation to his crea- 
 ture, — love, that is, unassociated in the remotest degree 
 with any complacency in evil ; similar love to fellow 
 creatures will necessarily characterize every mind that is 
 conformed to that of Deity. Having fixed the first and 
 all-comprehensive principle of morals in love to himself, 
 he accordingly places in immediate subordination to it, 
 love to men ; a love which, although subject to the pecu- 
 liar modifications of consanguinity, and friendship, and 
 patriotism, comprehends the species, and, indeed, in the 
 spirit of the precept, may be considered as extending to 
 created beings in general, in known or even in supposed 
 existence. The standard of the love enjoined to our 
 fellow creatures is expressed in the terms of the precept 
 — " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" The only 
 love that is without measure, and without comparison 
 with any other as its standard, is the love of which the 
 infinite Jehovah is himself the object. That is love " with 
 all the heart, with all the soul, with all the strength, and 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 235 
 
 with all the mind," because here all our capacities of in- 
 tellect and of feeling may be expanded to their full stretch 
 of enlargement, without the possibility of excess, All 
 other love is measured and limited. 
 
 Selfishness is the besetting sin of our fallen nature. It 
 interferes with and adulterates the love of our neighbor ; 
 it excludes from our bosoms the love of God. But self- 
 love, so far from being an illegitimate principle, is an 
 essential part of the constitution of every sentient exist- 
 ence, and in the second great commandment is assumed 
 as such, and constituted, as has just been said, the stand- 
 ard of our love to others. The reasoning of the Apostle 
 Paul is beautifully correct, when he says, " He that 
 loveth another hath fulfilled the law. For this, Thou 
 shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not kill, Thou 
 shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness, Thou 
 shalt not covet : and if there be any other commandment, 
 it is briefly comprehended in this saying, namely, Thou 
 shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. Love worketh no ill 
 to his neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the 
 law."* In its heart-searching spirituality, its precision 
 and simplicity, its readiness for application, its force of 
 united appeal to the understanding and to the heart, its 
 comprehensiveness, both as to the objects it embraces, and 
 the dispositions and conduct it inculcates towards them, 
 this precept is divinely worthy of the place it holds, f 
 Taking love to God and love to our neighbor together, 
 well might our divine Master say of them, " On these 
 two commandments hang all the Law and the 
 Prophets" 
 
 * Rom. xiii. 8 — 10. 
 
 t Notes and Illustrations. Note Q. 
 
236 IDENTITY OP 
 
 Necessity of But let not our main point be at present for- 
 
 the union of _, . .'., , 
 
 botii prince gotten. 1 o constitute true morality, the two 
 molality. me must be united. The second is not morality 
 without the first. Men may choose, for the accommoda- 
 tion of their own consciences, to separate them under dif- 
 ferent designations, and to call the one religion and the 
 other morality. But we dare not, on the principles that 
 pervade the Word of God, admit the possibility of their 
 separation. You may many a time find men who com- 
 mend the second precept, while they disregard the first ; 
 who will even warmly eulogize the beautiful morality of 
 the Scriptures, when they sum up our duty in " loving our 
 neighbor as ourselves," and " doing to others as we would 
 that others should do to us." Yet what would such 
 men say to us, were we to affirm that the first of the 
 two precepts might be satisfactorily fulfilled without the 
 second ? — that a man might duly love God without 
 loving his neighbor, and do his duty to God without 
 doing his duty to his neighbor? Would they not, and 
 with good reason, scoff at such religion, and tell us at 
 once, with oracular decision, and with the scowl of dis- 
 dain, that there can be no religion without morality 1 
 We grant it : there is, there can be, no religion without 
 morality. But we must insist upon it, that, if the first 
 precept cannot be fulfilled separately from the second, 
 neither can the second separately from the first ; that if 
 we cannot love God without loving our neighbor, neither 
 can we duly love our neighbor without loving God ; that 
 if love to God wants its proper evidence without love to 
 our neighbor, love to our neighbor wants its proper 'prin- 
 ciple without love to God ; that no position can be more 
 unreasonable, than the position, that there may be mo- 
 rality without religion, while there can be no religion 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION. 237 
 
 without morality; this being the same thing as to say, 
 that the lower obligation may be fulfilled without the 
 higher, though the higher cannot without the lower; 
 that the love commanded towards fellow creatures may 
 be duly and sufficiently exercised without any love to 
 Him by whom the command is given, and in whose char- 
 acter and authority the obligation to render it originates ! 
 Away with such inconsistencies! Let Christians as- 
 sume, and occupy, and resolutely maintain, the high 
 ground of the Bible ; that love to God not only takes 
 precedence of every other affection of the soul, but is the 
 true moral principle of all the rest, and of what- 
 ever in practice is entitled to the name of virtue. This 
 love to God, involving, as it does, complacency in his holy 
 nature, is itself holiness; and this is the virtue of the 
 Bible ; the only virtue that can be recognized and ac- 
 cepted by the God of light and love whom the Bible 
 reveals ; the product of his regenerating Spirit ; the 
 necessary qualification for fellowship with him on earth ; 
 the only fitness for heaven ! 
 
LECTURE VIII. 
 
 ON THE QUESTION, HOW FAR DISINTERESTEDNESS IS AN 
 ESSENTIAL QUALITY IN LEGITIMATE LOVE TO GOD. 
 
 1 John IV. 10. 
 
 " We love Him, because he first loved us." 
 
 Scripture There are four short setences of Holy Writ, 
 
 views of J ' 
 
 God. which contain in them more of the knowlege 
 
 of God than all the unaided wisdom of man had ever 
 been able to discover : — " God is a Spirit : " — " God 
 is one:" — "God 13 light:" — "God is love." 
 
 Spirituality of essence, unity of subsistence, purity of 
 nature, and benevolence of character, are thus, with a 
 sublime brevity, predicated of Jehovah. Light and love 
 complete the character of his moral nature. They are 
 inseparable. All the operations of his benevolence are in 
 harmony with his unsullied purity : and all the mani- 
 festations of his purity, are blended with his infinite be- 
 nevolence. The love dwells in light ; and the light dif- 
 fuses itself in beams of love. Holy love, then, is the 
 essential character of the Godhead. And, in accordance 
 with this delightful view of the Maker and Lord of all, 
 holy love appears to be the general law of the universe, 
 the bond of union, the spring of action, the fountain 
 of joy. 
 
ON DISINTERESTED LOVE TO GOD. 239 
 
 We have formerly traced the great principles of moral 
 rectitude to their eternal origin in the nature of Deity, — 
 a nature, from eternity, necessary and immutable. From 
 this we have inferred their universality. As all orders of 
 intelligent creatures owe their being to Him, and are the 
 subjects of his moral government, it is, in the nature of the 
 thing, inconceivable, that in the principles of his legisla- 
 tion, among these different orders, there should be any 
 inconsistency or contrariety. In their essential universality 
 elements, they must be the same. But the cfpSof 111 ' 
 same general principles may often, without in- JJdTcoS- 
 congruity, admit of no inconsiderable variety of ^arLt^of 
 modification. Thus it is in the natural world, modification. 
 There is one principle of vitality in all that lives ; yet, 
 among all living things, there probably are not two in 
 every respect the same. There is one principle of vege- 
 tation in all the endless variety of color, form, and fra- 
 grance, of elegance, and beauty, and utility, with which 
 the surface of our world is clothed. For aught we can 
 tell, the same principles of animal and vegetable life, 
 which develop themselves in our own planet, may per- 
 vade the universe ; and yet, in no two worlds may their 
 modified developments be entirely alike. 
 
 Thus too, as far as our knowledge reaches, it is, — and 
 thus, to an indefinite extent beyond the range of our 
 knowledge, it may be in the moral world. My exemplifi- 
 cations of what is, must of course be found among our- 
 selves; they must be taken from our own race. It would, 
 at the same time, be flagrantly inconsistent with all that 
 has formerly been said, were I to take them from the 
 race at large, as inheriting a nature of which the moral 
 principles are disordered. I find them more appropriately, 
 and extensively enough for my present purpose, in those 
 
240 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 renewed souls, into which, by the gracious operation of 
 the Divine Spirit, the true elements of moral rectitude 
 have been introduced;- — in which holy love has become 
 the supreme and dominant principle. Among the mem- 
 bers of this redeemed and sanctified family, there are al- 
 most endlessly diversified modifications of character : — 
 but these modifications are the result, not of different 
 principles, but of principles the same in their primary 
 elements, only practically unfolded under various circum- 
 stances and relations. If, in all the children of God, the 
 principles of their new nature were the same in degree as 
 well as in kind, and subjected universally to the influence 
 of the very same modifying circumstances, — the result 
 would be a sameness very dissimilar to what meets our 
 view in every other department of the works and ways of 
 God. But by placing his children in all the varieties of 
 circumstantial and relative condition, their heavenly Fa- 
 ther produces a scene in harmony with the rest of his 
 administration 5 diversity of effect springing from sim- 
 plicity of principle, — elementary indentitj^, with varied 
 manifestation. Thus we may conclude it to be, through- 
 out the entire extent of the dominions of Deity : — the 
 essential elementary principles of morals everywhere the 
 same, — as necessarily the same, as the Nature is the 
 same from which all intelligent and accountable exis- 
 tence is an emanation, — but in all worlds, and among 
 the inhabitants of each, diversified without end in their 
 modal application and exercise. 
 
 character Whether among the countless worlds enlight- 
 
 tion of other ened by those millions of suns which the tele- 
 
 worlds to us , . . 1-1 
 
 unknown. scope nas brought within the reach of human 
 vision, there be any in a similar condition to that of our 
 own, is a question to which no research can ever enable 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 241 
 
 us to find an answer; He from whom alone the discovery 
 could come having been pleased to keep silence respecting 
 it. In the revelation, indeed, which he has graeiously 
 imparted to us, he has informed us of another order, or 
 rather of a portion of another order, of intelligent crea- 
 tures, who, like ourselves, sustain the character of apos- 
 tates; spirits of light, who, even before the creation of 
 man, had wickedly thrown off their allegiance, and in- 
 curred the righteous doom of expulsion from their seats 
 of bliss. The same revelation, while it discloses to us 
 the divine scheme of restoration for fallen men, conveys 
 the information that no such scheme has been formed or 
 executed in behalf of fallen angels. The reasons of this 
 pretention are by us inscrutable. That here, as in eveiy 
 step of his government, the procedure of Deity has been 
 determined by considerations infinitely satisfactory, we 
 cannot entertain a doubt; his sovereignty consisting, 
 as ought ever to be remembered, not in acting without 
 reasons, but only in withholding, at his pleasure, those 
 reasons from us. It is ours to be thankful, (and the 
 gratitude can never bear any adequate proportion to the 
 amount of the obligation,) that our world has been the 
 iheatre selected by him, for that display of his character, 
 so full of all that is stupendous and delightful, which the 
 plan of redemption unfolds. 
 
 The procedure of God towards this our world ? od /* con -. 
 
 * duct toward 
 
 has, indeed, been of a nature so astonishing, our world* 
 
 ° fair standard 
 
 that, in contemplating it, we are apt to be ofhisgen- 
 
 r ° r eral admia- 
 
 stunned into incredulity ; and, forgetting the istration. 
 infinitude of the benevolence of which it is the expression, 
 to say in our hearts — How can these things be? — And 
 yet, their overwhelming magnitude may not, by any 
 means, be a sufficient warrant for a conclusion to which 
 21 
 
242 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 we are prone to come, and which, indeed, has assumed, in 
 most Christian minds, the form of a settled sentiment,— 
 namely, that they are quite unique, — that they so pre-emi- 
 nently transcend all the divine transactions in other parts 
 of the universe, as to stand altogether alone, — having no 
 parallels, — nothing that can be compared with them. 
 Now it is true, that we cannot imagine them surpassed : 
 but are we sure that we are doing justice to Deity in this 
 conception of their solitary grandeur, — of their incom- 
 parable superiority to the average scale of his moral ad- 
 ministration ? Is the principle of such a conception fair? 
 Is it in harmony with our inferential conclusions in other 
 departments of the divine doings ? Amazed as we are 
 by the displays of power and wisdom in the productions 
 of nature, animate and inanimate, within the bounds of 
 our own world, does it ever enter into our minds to regard 
 them as so far surpassing those which, had we access to 
 other worlds, we should discover there, that, by the en- 
 largement of our range of observation, our conceptions of 
 these divine attributes might possibly be depressed rather 
 than elevated, contracted rather than amplified ? Do not 
 we, on the contrary, assure ourselves, that, were that 
 range extended, we should find, in every department of 
 its widening amplitude, all in harmony with what meets 
 our view within our limited field of vision ; — the mani- 
 festations of power and wisdom, if not surpassing, at least 
 not inferior to, those which are not submitted to our in- 
 vestigation? Why, then, should we reason otherwise 
 with regard to the moral administration of Deity ? 
 
 Of his procedure, in this department, towards other 
 worlds than our own, we know nothing, and have no 
 means of arriving at information. But can any satisfac- 
 tory reason be assigned, why we should not apply the 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 243 
 
 same principle of inferential judgment, and, in this case 
 as in the other, make what we do know the standard of 
 what we do not know 1 Why should we not consider 
 the conduct of the Godhead towards our world as a speci- 
 men of the general style of grandeur in which the divine 
 government is administered thoughout the whole extent 
 of his universal empire? There maybe nothing the same 
 in kind. With the one exception of the " angels that 
 kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation," 
 there may be no class of intelligent creatures that have 
 renounced their allegiance besides ourselves, — no world 
 that has strayed from its moral orbit, but the planet in 
 which we dwell. But, though there may be nothing the 
 same in kind, it does not follow that there can be nothing 
 like it in characteristic greatness. In an extensive hu- 
 man empire, subdivided into various provinces, the trans- 
 actions in no two of these provinces may be in every 
 respect the same. They may, — and under a wise ad- 
 ministration they undoubtedly will, be of a nature appro- 
 priate to the respective circumstances of each. But they 
 will all bear the impress, and indicate the character, of 
 the presiding mind ; and, corresponding with the mental 
 capacity and the moral disposition of the ruler, they will 
 harmonize, in their general complexion, with each other. 
 So it may be in the empire of the supreme Governor, — 
 the universe of worlds. Make the supposition, if you 
 will, that there is no other world standing in the same 
 circumstances with our own, and requiring the same or 
 similar measures for its deliverance; — yet there appears 
 to be no presumption in conceiving, that, throughout his 
 boundless dominions, the infinite God may be carrying on 
 his administration on a scale of moral magnificence, of 
 which the dealings of his righteousness and mercy to- 
 
244 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 wards our race, in the mediation of his Son, are no more 
 than a fair exemplification. How stupendous the con- 
 ception given to our minds by such a criterion (is it 
 an inadmissible one?) of the government of the Eter- 
 
 nal 
 
 wisdom of The revelation with which we have been fa- 
 fining the vored relates, as might have been anticipated, 
 of revelation specially, and almost exclusively, to the pecul- 
 wor!d. ow iar circumstances of our own world. To inform 
 us about other worlds, is no part of its design. Even as 
 things are, there exists quite a sufficiency of temptation 
 to the neglect of our everlasting interests; — quite enough 
 to divert our attention from those momentous concerns by 
 which it ought most of all to be engaged. In the objects 
 y which we ares urrounded on earth, and which in so 
 many ways entice our regards, there is an infatuating 
 witchery, that works with lamentable success, in abstract- 
 ing our thoughts from what is higher, and better, and more 
 enduring; the "things that are seen" filling the mind, to 
 the exclusion of the "things that are not seen:" — and 
 even the little that, by observation and research, has come 
 to be either known, or conjectured, or fancied within the 
 limit of possible discovery, with regard to other worlds, 
 has had, in this respect, its share of detrimental influence; 
 so that there have not been wanting, those who have 
 fully verified the poet's description of them as — 
 
 . "giving laws to distant worlds, 
 
 And trifling in their own." 
 
 To what an amount might such "trifling" have been 
 augmented, had revelation opened more widety the field 
 of curious speculation, by informing us of the physical 
 constitution, the natural history, the science, and the 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 245 
 
 moral character and state, of the worlds by which we are 
 surrounded ! The tendencies of our fallen nature to the 
 neglect of our everlasting prospects, are so sadly strong, 
 that they require anything but encouragement and addi- 
 tional temptations; and, accordingly, in the revelation 
 given us, our attention is wisely confined to the one great 
 end which it proposes, — not the gratifying of a vain, or 
 even of an allowable and laudable curiosity with regard 
 to other worlds, but the recovery to God, and holiness, and 
 happiness, of the apostate inhabitants of our own. 
 This being the case, I know few things more Character 
 
 . . , n , . under which 
 
 important, or indeed of more obvious necessity, revelation 
 ^n order to the right understanding of this reve- menfthat of 
 lation, than that it be read and studied by us, 
 under the character, and in the relation to God, in which 
 it addresses us. It cannot be understood otherwise. If 
 it is intended for mankind as sinners, — fallen, guilty, and 
 condemned, — how can any correct conceptions be formed 
 of the adaptation of its discoveries to their situation, un~ 
 less the reality of that situation be first recognized? M 
 the gospel be a remedial scheme, the world is in a condi- 
 tion that requires the remedy ; and neither can the suita- 
 bleness of the remedy be discerned, nor its value duly ap- 
 preciated, further than the condition itself is understood 
 and experienced. 
 
 But, more than this. We have said,, that Necessity of 
 
 ... _ , regarding 
 
 while the great principles of morals must neces- not only 
 sarily be the same in all worlds, yet of these principles, 
 principles the modifications may be different in modiS* 
 different worlds, according to the peculiar cir- tiTem. 
 cumstances and relations of their respective inhabitants. 
 In each world, therefore, the legitimate exercise of the 
 principles must be that which harmonizes with its dis- 
 *21 
 
246 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 tinctive peculiarities. Everything else must partake of 
 the spirit of rebellion against that Supreme Disposer by 
 whom these peculiarities are adjusted. This is clear. 
 The inhabitants of a revolted province, in any empire, 
 must submit to the conditions on which the government 
 has determined that their restoration to their privileges as 
 subjects shall be granted, and on which their new acts of 
 allegiance shall be received. The refusal of these condi- 
 tions, under what pretext soever, is a persisting in treason- 
 able disaffection. If pur world be a world of rebels, and 
 the universal Governor has been pleased to reveal the 
 way, the only way, in which these rebels can be rein- 
 stated in his favor, and their acts of homage can be ac- 
 cepted, it assuredly follows that with us (whatever may 
 be the case with other parts of his dominion) there can be 
 no true allegiance, no acceptable subjection, no rightly 
 principled obedience, until there is an acquiescence of heart 
 in the prescribed terms. 
 
 If God has revealed himself to sinners, all the service 
 of sinners must be rendered to him as so revealed. If, as 
 sinners, we are in a state of alienation from him, and he 
 has been pleased to make known the grounds on which 
 he himself stands reconciled, and ready to receive us back 
 to our allegiance, the first thing to which we are called, and 
 which is manifestly indispensable, isour acceding to those 
 grounds, and accepting the reconciliation. If the means 
 revealed be the atonement and intercession of a Mediator, 
 how can he who has so revealed himself accept the hem- 
 age of creatures so circumstanced, otherwise than through 
 that Mediator? The sole question is the question of fact. 
 If the fact be admitted, I see not how the conclusion can 
 be evaded. It will not do for us to take our stand on 
 general principles, and disregard the specialities of our 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 247 
 
 condition; — for it is in submission to those modifications 
 of the general principles for which these specialities have 
 given occasion, that our regard to the principles themselves, 
 as the principles of the divine government, is to be appro- 
 priately manifested. "We persist in our insubordination 
 to the principles themselves, so long as we refuse submis- 
 sion to those means which the Supreme Governor has 
 prescribed, for maintaining the perfection and permanence 
 of their authority, and preserving unsullied the character 
 of his administration. It is in this way that the rejec- 
 tion of the gospel identifies, in the principle of it, with 
 rebellion against the law. 
 
 We have before seen, that the first Great Pr . ima Y 
 
 v principle 
 
 principle of the law, and the essential element ° f J?^*? 
 of all true morals, — is love to God. And here affected by 
 
 Ihe peculi- 
 
 too, it is evident, the peculiarity of our condi- arity ofour 
 
 . , condition. 
 
 tion must modify the exercise of this primary 
 principle. The gracious purpose of the mediatorial 
 scheme of the gospel is to bring sinners back to God. But 
 the love of a sinner, in returning to God, must of necessi- 
 ty regard him as he has revealed himself; — it must 
 regard him as the " God of salvation," — as "in Christ 
 reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their 
 trespasses unto them." A. due consideration of Bearing of 
 
 1 this on the 
 
 this might go far, perhaps, to settle a question question of 
 in Christian morals of no trivial importance; kstednesb. 
 the question, namely, whether love to God must be en- 
 tirely disinterested ; — in other words, completely divest- 
 ed, in its exercise, of all consideration of our own happi- 
 nesSf — regarding God exclusively for what be is in 
 himself, irrespectively of what he is to us, — and un- 
 mixed with either the fear of punishment or the hope of 
 reward. 
 
248 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 Preliminary The limits of the present discourse will not 
 the more admit of mj entering' into any extended discus- 
 
 generalques- . .. . . . ,,- 
 
 tionofthe sion, preliminary to my observations on this 
 disinterested topic, of the more general question respecting 
 the existence or non-existence in our nature of 
 disinterested affections; — a question, on which, as on 
 most others, there has, on both sides, been a proneness to 
 extremes. That there are two classes of affections within 
 us, — affections of which we- ourselves, and affections of 
 which others, are, respectively, the immediate objects, is 
 a matter of fact ascertained by every man's personal con- 
 sciousness. But the affections which terminate upon 
 others are, equally with those which terminate upon 
 ourselves, our own affections. Being our own, the attain- 
 ment of their respective ends must, of course, be a grati- 
 fication to ourselves. In this way, every affection that 
 prompts us to seek the good of others must, of necessity, 
 have a reflex as well as a direct influence, — an influence 
 of pleasure tothe bosom in which it is exercised, as well as 
 of benefit to such as are its immediate objects; — the two 
 unavoidably, and therefore invariably, blending together. 
 But from the fact, that when we do good to others 
 there is a result of pleasure to ourselves, to draw the con- 
 clusion that our own gratification is the real and only 
 object of those affections by which we are incited to deeds 
 of kindness, is, in effect, to say, that the more intense the 
 delight which a man experiences in being the instrument 
 of another's happiness, the more decidedly has he "the 
 witness in himself" of his selfish disposition : — in other 
 words, that a. man's selfishness is in the direct ratio of 
 his pleasure in doing good: — in other words still, that 
 Howard was the most selfish of human kind! And from 
 this it would seem to be a further legitimate deduction, 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 249 
 
 that, could a man be supposed to do good to others, with- 
 out any consciousness of pleasurable emotion from the 
 happiness he imparts, the purer would be his benevolence: 
 nay, still further, that, were it consistent with possibility, 
 that a man should do good to others while. the sight or 
 the report of their enjoyment gave him pain, the higher 
 still would be his title to admiration for disinterested phi- 
 lanthropy. And yet such supposed cases involve mani- 
 fest contradiction ;. for in either of them, whatever might 
 be the principle from which the good was done, it could 
 not be benevolence; inasmuch as, to have no pleasure in 
 others' happiness, is the negation of this affection, and 
 to have fain from others' happiness is its very opposite — 
 is positive malevolence. 
 
 The truth of the case, therefore, appears to be, that 
 whenever a benevolent affection is gratified, self-love must 
 also be gratified; simply because the affection gratified 
 being our own, the gratification must be our own : — and 
 to argue from this that benevolence resolves itself into 
 self-love, is to affirm the very existence of a benevolent 
 affection impossible ; for it amounts to affirming (and no 
 impossibility can be more complete) that no such affec- 
 tion can have place, unless in a creature so constituted as 
 that, while, under its impulse, he puts forth his efforts for 
 the good of fellow creatures, the satisfaction arising from 
 his success should come back into some other bosom than 
 his own ! That selfishness is one of the besetting sins 
 of our fallen nature, I grant; from which it arises, that 
 there may be much of a spurious beneficence, which has 
 its sources in other principles than benevolence ; nay, that 
 there may be much even of a spurious benevo r ence, such 
 as, if closely scrutinized, would be found to contain more 
 in it of self than the agent, negligent of self-examina* 
 
250 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 tion, is aware. But still, the existence of the spurious 
 does not disprove the possibility of the genuine. It may 
 be a good reason for self-jealousy; but it is no more. 
 Pleasure having been wisely and kindly attached, by that 
 God who is love, to the exercise of benevolence, are we 
 to restrain its indulgence, and be fearful of satiating our- 
 selves with the luxury of doing good, merely lest some 
 cynical philosopher should tell us we are selfish ? Shall 
 we call the Divine Being selfish, because he " delighteth 
 in mercy?" — because the exercise of his infinite love is 
 one of the springs of his infinite blessedness? — because 
 he is happy in the diffusion of happiness ? In this re- 
 spect, every holy creature bears the image of his Creator; 
 and, but for the entrance of sin, benevolence and self-love 
 would have continued to play their respective parts in un- 
 jarring and delightful symphony. Could we fancy the 
 suggestion introduced into the mind of such a creature, 
 while, by a generous sympathy, making the happiness of 
 others his own, and enjoying the plentitude of bliss in 
 contributing, by active beneficence, to its diffusion,™— that 
 his benevolence was certainly and entirely selfish, be* 
 cause he had pleasure in the indulgence of it, — that he 
 was quite mistaken in fancying himself kind, because 
 he actually delighted in being so; — how strangely 
 would it startle him ! how unaccountably odd would 
 the metaphysics appear by which it was dictated ! He 
 would in one instance perceive and feel it to be a sophis- 
 tical quibble. His whole soul would tell him, that the 
 delight in the happiness of others, which was the ground 
 of the sophist's imputation of selfishness, was what con- 
 stituted the very benevolence whose existence it was al- 
 leged to disprove.* 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note R« 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 251 
 
 The observations thus made respecting the inseparable 
 blending of the benevolent affections with those of self- 
 love, we may find, in the spirit of them, capable of appli- 
 cation to the question now before us respecting the 
 disinterestedness of love to God. Generated , 
 
 . . . , . , , , Origin and 
 
 originally, as it would appear, amongst the an- advocates of 
 cient Mystics, the doctrine of the possibility, disinterested 
 and of the necessity to true godliness, of such 
 self-denying, self-annihilating love was revived about the 
 middle of the seventeenth century, was adopted by some 
 devout spirits with an enthusiastic fervor, and found an 
 advocate equally amiable and eloquent in the celebrated 
 Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray. Into the details of 
 the controversy between him and the no less celebrated 
 Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, — the characters, talents, and 
 tempers of the combatants, the ultimate decision of the 
 controversy by papal bull, against Fenelon, or the alleged 
 influence by which the condemnation of himself and his 
 tenets was obtained, — it was not my purpose to enter. 
 They are points of ecclesiastical history, rather than of 
 ethical system. The doctrine has not been confined to 
 that period or portion of the church. It has had advo- 
 cates among Protestant theologians of the first rank ; 
 among whom it is only necessary to mention the name of 
 Jonathan Edwards, to secure for the subject a grave and 
 deliberate discussion. It shall be my endeavor to avoid 
 extremes on either side, and, with as much simplicity as 
 possible, to elicit what appears to be the truth. 
 
 The text prefixed to this Lecture may be understood 
 consistently with either side of the question ; for it is sus- 
 ceptible of two interpretations. It may either signify sim- 
 ply that the love of God to us is the origin of our love to 
 him, or that it is the reason for which we love him ; that is, 
 
252 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 either that it is in consequence of God's having loved us, 
 that we, by the exercise of his grace, have been brought 
 to love him, or that his previous love to us, is that on ac- 
 count of which we love him. The advocates of what 
 has been termed disinterested love to God adopt, of course, 
 the former interpretation ; while its opponents maintain 
 the latter. It will appear, I am persuaded, from the 
 views of the question which are now to be presented to 
 you, that the two explanations are not at all incompatible ; 
 that both are true ; that they are closely connected with 
 each other: and that therefore, without impropriety, both 
 may be comprehended in the statement of the text. 
 Original and I begin, then, with observing, what does not 
 g!o£nd of seem to admit of a doubt, that the true, proper, 
 his essential original ground of love to God is Goo? s essen- 
 tial loveliness, — the amiableness of his moral 
 nature. I say of his moral nature, for the obvious rea- 
 son, that his natural attributes are not susceptible of the 
 quality of loveliness, except as connected, in their exer- 
 cise, with his moral excellencies. Eternity, immensity, 
 omnipresence, omniscience, omnipotence, are not properly 
 amiable in themselves. It depends entirely on the moral 
 perfections with which they are associated, whether they 
 shall engender love or hatred, horror or delight. " It is a 
 moral excellency alone," says Edwards, " that is in itself, 
 and on its own account, the excellency of intelligent be- 
 ings. It is this that gives beauty to, or rather is the 
 beauty of, their natural perfections or qualifications. 
 Moral excellency is the excellency of natural excellen- 
 cies. Natural qualifications are either excellent or not, 
 according as they are joined with moral excellency or 
 not. The holiness of an intelligent creature is the beauty 
 of all his natural perfections. And so it is in God, ac- 
 
Love to god. 253 
 
 cording to our way of conceiving of the Divine Being : 
 holiness is, in a peculiar manner, the beauty of the divine 
 nature."* By holiness we are to understand the whole 
 of God's moral excellence — the entire assemblage of his 
 moral beauties. It is for all these that he is loved by 
 holy creatures. They perceive, they relish, they delight 
 in contemplating, that "beauty of holiness" which con- 
 sists in their full combination and inseparable union. 
 Our next observation is one which was, inci- Seif-Jove an 
 
 , ,, . . ,.~, . . essential 
 
 dentally and in a different connection, intro- principle in 
 duced in last Lecture, — that self-love is an tutionofaii 
 essential principle in the constitution of every features. 
 intelligent creature; meaning by self-love the 
 desire of its own preservation and well-being. By no ef- 
 fort of imagination can we fancy to ourselves such a 
 creature constituted without this. It is an original law 
 in the nature of every sentient existence. In man, it is 
 true, in regard especially to the sources from which it 
 has sought its gratification, it is a principle which, since 
 his fall, has been miserably perverted and debased, de- 
 generating, in ten thousand instances, into utter selfish- 
 ness, and in all partaking of this unworthy taint. Be- 
 tween selfishness, however, and legitimate self-love, there 
 is an obvious and wide discrepancy. The latter is not at 
 all distinctive of our nature as degenerate, but was in- 
 woven in its very texture, as it came from the Creator's 
 hand. The former is properly the corruption of the lat- 
 ter. It leads the creature, who is under its dominant 
 influence, to prefer self to fellow creatures and to God, so 
 as to seek its own real or supposed advantage at the ex- 
 pense of the interests and the honor of both. So far, on 
 
 • * Treatise on Religious Affections, p. 211. 
 
 22 
 
254 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 the contrar}', is self-love from being unwarrantable, that, 
 in that part of God's law which prescribes our feelings 
 and conduct towards our fellow creatures, it is assumed 
 as the ^standard measure of the commanded duty, "Thou 
 shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Take away self- 
 love, or suppose it possible that the human heart should 
 be divested of it, and you annihilate the command by 
 rendering it unintelligible. 
 
 The word of There is not, assuredly, any part of the divine 
 where°re- word, by which we are required, in any circum- 
 ?3inquUh- stances, to divest ourselves of this essential 
 Jrincipfe?" 8 Principle in our constitution. That word, on 
 to t it? Ppea,s tne contrary, is full of appeals to it, under every 
 diversity of form. Such are all its threaten- 
 ings, all its promises, all its invitations. What, in- 
 deed, is the offer of salvation, in the fullness of its 
 blessings, but an inducement presented to self-love, or 
 the natural desire of happiness, to compliance with 
 the calls of the Gospel? To what principle, if not 
 to this, does Jehovah address himself, when, in terms 
 which are only a specimen of innumerable more, he 
 says, " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come unto the wa- 
 ters?"— "Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die?" may 
 be taken as the spirit of many a kind expostulation, 
 the substance of many an importunate entreaty, the bur- 
 den of many a "song of the charmer." 
 Lore to God True, however, as all this is, the truth is not 
 
 merely for - ' 
 
 what we re- less unquestionable, that love to God merely for 
 
 ceive, not . . 
 
 love to God what we receive from him, is not love to God at 
 all. When in no degree is the divine attribute 
 of goodness contemplated in itself, as constituting a part 
 of the moral excellence and loveliness of the Godhead, 
 but solely and exclusively in its aspect towards us, and 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 255 
 
 in the gifts of kindness which it confers upon us; — this 
 certainly is nothing but unmingled self-love. It is love, 
 not properly to the Giver, but to the gift; or (which, if 
 not precisely, is as nearly as possible the same thing) it 
 is love to the Giver, merely as a giver, for his gift's sake, 
 and not for his own. It terminates entirely on self. 
 There is no denying of this. The illustration of it 
 might be amplified ; but it is with principles I have at 
 present to do ; — and of this principle the truth is too 
 self-evident to require or to admit of proof. Gratitude of 
 the kind described will be found in the most selfish speci- 
 mens of our fallen nature. "If ye love them that love 
 you, what thank have ye? for sinners also love those that 
 love them." It is common to man with the brutes. — 
 Where will you find a more striking exemplifications of 
 it, than in a faithful dog to a gentle and generous 
 master ? 
 
 Of the description mentioned is that love Such the 
 which you may hear some men profess to God, e^b/faise 
 while they are entertaining and cherishing false divine °char e - 
 views of his character, They flatter themselves acter * 
 into the persuasion of his being "such an one as them- 
 selves," who will not, as they express it, be strict to mark 
 their iniquities against them, — who is so very benignant 
 and kind, that he can never find in his heart to condemn 
 and punish, with unrelenting rigor, his frail and erring 
 creatures: — and then they love him! But why? Simply 
 because his character, as they thus conceive of it, bears 
 a flattering aspect towards themselves, — laying them 
 under no necessity to deny their passions, to renounce sin 
 and the world, and to crucify the flesh. — Such love as 
 this is worse than selfish. Selfishness may often have 
 
256 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 regard to what is not in itself wrong ; but in this love 
 there is the essential principle of depravity. Such men 
 absolutely love God for the sake of sin. It is not God at 
 all that is the object of their love ; it is sin ; it is this 
 vain and evil world. These they love : and, when they 
 have fashioned to their imaginations a God who will not 
 be severe upon them for the indulgence of this their lik- 
 ing to sin and to the world, they can love him too:- — 
 and they can even cherish a delusive self-complacency in 
 the fancy, that, whatever may be the case with others, 
 they are very far from being what certain harshly-judging 
 enthusiasts would represent them, — haters of God. But, 
 in very deed, love to this God of their own is hatred of 
 the true God. It is loving him for the opposite of what 
 he is ; — it is loving him for that which he hates, on 
 which the eyes of his purity "cannot look," and against 
 which he has denounced the terrors of his wrath ! —and 
 could such men but succeed in persuading themselves 
 that God will not visit their sins with punishment at all, 
 they would (according to their delusive use of terms) 
 love him still the more. 
 
 Distinction But, while such gratitude as regards the 
 Skive and divine Giver, merely for his gift's sake, — and, 
 gratitude. ^ tne oift De but obtained and enjoyed, cares 
 not what the character may be of Him from 
 whom it comes, — while such gratitude has in it nothing 
 beyond what is natural, nothing spiritual, nothing gra- 
 cious, —there being no more grace, or spirituality, or 
 holiness, in the desire of enjoyment, than in the dread 
 and deprecation of suffering: — yet, assuredly, there is 
 such an affection of heart as a truly generous gratitude, — 
 gracious, spiritual, holy gratitude. Wherein, then, lies 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 257 
 
 the difference between such gratitude and the selfish sen- 
 timent of which we have been speaking? Chiefly in 
 this, — that true gratitude is inseparably accompanied 
 with the perception and love of the attribute of goodness 
 in Deity, as a part of his moral excellence, and does not 
 regard it, exclusively, as a source of benefit to ourselves. 
 Even here, I grant, we are in danger of self-deception, 
 and require to watch, with a jealous scrutiny the real 
 state of our hearts ; lest, while we flatter ourselves that 
 we are loving the divine benevolence for its own intrinsic 
 amiableness, we be, after all, only pleased with the gift, 
 and influenced by a feeling that rises no higher than nat- 
 ural gratitude, — a principle, which ranks with some 
 others, such as it is odious and criminal to want, but 
 which there is no great measure of positive virtue in pos- 
 sessing. There is a vast amount of self-complacent sen^ 
 timentalism in regard to the divine goodness, which, if 
 analyzed, would be found to resolve itself into nothing 
 better than fondness for that facile pliancy of disposition, 
 already adverted to, with which imagination has invested 
 the Supreme Being, by which he will be induced to deal 
 very gently with his creatures ; a fondness, which is in 
 no degree associated with complacency in his holiness, or 
 love to his general excellence. But what more is there 
 in this, than self-love fashioning the character of the 
 Godhead to a conformity with his own self-flattering pre- 
 dilections? In order to prevent our being the dupes of 
 such self-deception, it ought to be the subject of constant 
 and faithful inquisition in the secret tribunal of our own 
 hearts, whether our professed love to God embraces the 
 whole of his moral excellency, — his purity, as well as 
 his kindness. 
 
 *22 
 
258 
 
 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 Gratitude But, while liableness to self-delusion should 
 
 SjSITed 1 / induce vigilance over our deceitful hearts, let it 
 JXfied in"the not can 7 us to ° far - We should greatly err, 
 were we to exclude the operation of a princi- 
 ple in itself right, because there is a danger of its being 
 alloyed with the admixture of others of an inferior order, 
 or even of questionable legitimacy. Of appeals to grati- 
 tude the Scriptures are full, as one of the springs of 
 active service, and a principle which it is our duty to 
 cherish. u I am the Lord thy God, which brought thee 
 up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage," 
 is a consideration appended to I know not how many of 
 the divine commands to Israel by Moses : — and in all 
 the subsequent history of the chosen people, they are in- 
 cessantly reminded by the prophets of the kindness of 
 Jehovah to themselves and to their fathers, and urged by 
 the remembrance to a suitable requital. And the very 
 same spirit pervades the New Testament. The Apostles, 
 the inspired " ambassadors of Christ," are ever, in their 
 practical admonitions, appealing to the "mercies of God," 
 disclosed so affectingly by the Gospel, as the grand mo- 
 tive by which believers should be influenced, in the "rea- 
 sonable service" of "presenting their persons living sacri- 
 fices unto God," and "glorifying him in their bodies and 
 spirits, which are his." Those parts of the Bible, too, 
 which contain the devout utterance of the believer's 
 heart, are full of the breathings of grateful love, and of 
 the liveliest and most rapturous expressions of adoring 
 thankfulness. 
 
 Union of In the experience of holy creatures, — of crea- 
 
 cj™ n d a g?ati- tures, I mean, who have never fallen from their 
 fectlon of " original purity, — ■* these two descriptions of love, 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 259 
 
 gratitude for God's goodness, and affectionate love in sin- 
 complacency in all that God is, must ever, we tures!" 5 * 
 conceive, exist in inseparable union. As holy, they love 
 God for his holiness; as happy, they love God as the 
 Author of their happiness. They experience and con- 
 template his kindness to themselves, as only an emana- 
 tion of the infinite benignity that is in his heart, and that 
 subsists there in intimate and indissoluble combination 
 with untainted purity, and inflexible rectitude. In the 
 character of God there is nothing but what perfectly 
 suits the taste of a holy creature. He likes it all. 
 He would revolt with horror from the very imagin- 
 ation of its being, in any respect, or in any degree, 
 other than it is. Created himself in the image of God, 
 he loves with his whole soul the divine prototype, the 
 eternal and unchanging reality, of which his own nature 
 is the faint and feeble shadow. In the bosom of such a 
 creature, love to the Author of his holinsss and love to 
 the Author of his happiness cannot by possibility be sep- 
 arated : — for his holiness is his happiness. He feels, that 
 He w T ho made him happy, made him happy by making 
 him holy. He delights in God for the spotless loveliness 
 of his moral nature ; but he can never dissociate this de- 
 light from the view, which be necessarily has before his 
 mind, of the same Being, as his own benefactor and 
 friend. So that, in this manner, holy delight, melting 
 gratitude, and unsuspecting confidence, blend harmoni- 
 ously together, and form, if we must not say one feeling, 
 yet one most blessed state and habitude of soul. 
 
 In bringing the present inquiry to bear upon Theobiiga- 
 
 ... , ... tion to love 
 
 ourselves, it is important to be kept in mind God remains 
 that love to God for what he is continues the fallen as on 
 duty of every intelligent creature, under every creatures. 
 
260 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 change of character and of circumstances. The obliga- 
 tion of the " first and great commandment " cannot but 
 remain upon all God's rational offspring. Apostasy can- 
 not dissolve it; for, were the obligation cancelled, sin 
 would be at an end. The concentrated essence of all 
 human guilt lies in the want of this love to God. In 
 every thought, and word, and action of fallen man, there 
 is sin, in proportion as there is the absence of this first and 
 only principle of all obedience. It is true, that a depraved 
 creature cannot love the moral excellencies of the divine 
 character. But why? Not from any want of natural 
 or intellectual capacity for the discernment of that ex- 
 cellence, — nor from any want of the natural or consti- 
 tutional capacity of loving ; but simply and exclusively, 
 from the moral state of the heart. The inability consists 
 soleVy in indisposition, and indeed is identical with it. It 
 is indisposition, and nothing else, and nothing more. If, 
 indeed, the essence of depravity consists in enmity against 
 God, — what more do we affirm, in saying that a de- 
 praved creature cannot love the moral excellence of the 
 divine nature, than that enmity is not, and never can be, 
 love ? It is only the affirmation, that two opposite states 
 of affection towards the same object cannot subsist in the 
 heart at the same time, The inability of which we speak 
 is the inability of evil to love good, of pollution to love 
 purity ; — - an inability which, instead of canceling obli- 
 gation, is itself the state of habitually violated obliga- 
 tion, and the very sum of the creature's guiltiness. When 
 we say of a man under the influence of the principle of 
 integrity that he cannot do a dishonest thing, we do not 
 mean that he has not the mental or the physical capacity 
 to do it ; we mean that such is the power of his ruling 
 principle, that no consideration would tempt him to vio- 
 
Love to God. 261 
 
 late its dictates. We thus express a moral inability of a 
 favorable and commendable kind. We pay the highest 
 tribute of admiration to the divine attribute of truth, when 
 we say that " it is impossible for God to lie: " — and were 
 we to say of Satan, the " Father of lies," that he cannot 
 speak truth, unless for purposes of evil, we should ex- 
 press, in the strongest possible terms, the inveteracy and 
 unmingled prevalence of the principles of malignity in 
 that apostate spirit. Thus, when we speak of moral ina- 
 bility, in a good or in a bad sense, we mean no more than 
 the dominion, respectively, of good or bad dispositions: 
 — so that inability to love God is the very same thing 
 with enmity against him, — or that dreadful perversity of 
 moral feeling that is repelled, instead of attracted, by the 
 light and love of the Godhead.* This, I have said, is the 
 essence of human guilt, and it is the essence of guilt, where- 
 ver it may exist, throughout the universe. It is the sin of 
 earth; it is the sin of hell. There, as well as here, the obli- 
 gation to love God continues, — continues in all its force. 
 There, as well as here, there remains the natural capacity 
 of knowing and of loving ; — and God himself, being im 
 mutably thesame, continues as worthy to be loved as ever, 
 — infinitely worthy. He has lost no part of his claim to the 
 
 * Agreeing as I do, to a large extent, with the views given by 
 Mr. Hinton on this subject, in his recent publications, I must be per- 
 mitted to shrink from the proposal of discarding the phraseology of 
 inability, and even moral inability, altogether. Our Lord says — 
 M No man can come unto me (dvpcnai eldsiv,) unless the Father 
 who hath sent me draw him." Such an example sufficiently war- 
 rants the phraseology. I grant, however, with regret and pain, that 
 it is often used most injudiciously, — in a manner that cannot fail to 
 be productive of impressions the most false, and of consequences 
 the most pernicious, both to the honor of God and the safety of 
 men. 
 
262 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 love of every intelligent mind, since man or angel fell. 
 If the obligation to love him ceased, there would be no 
 sin in hell, any more than on earth. The guilt of origin- 
 al apostasy might remain ; but the further accumulation 
 of guilt would be impossible. 
 Wiidness The idea, however, of disinterested love to 
 
 and self-con- —t-,mt • 
 
 tradictori- God has been carried to a very wild extreme, 
 representa- When men have spoken of the duty and the 
 interested 1 " possibility of retaining love to God, and rejoic- 
 ing in his being glorified, although the glory 
 should arise from their being themselves " thrust down to 
 hell" and made the victims of endless perdition, — they 
 have spoken, I apprehend, very unadvisedly, "understand- 
 ing neither what they say, nor whereof they affirm ? " 
 The language involves self-contradiction : the very sup- 
 position made in it being one which, were it within the 
 bounds of possibility that it should be realized, would di- 
 vest the blessed God of all that is amiable in his nature, 
 and so render love to him impossible : for we cannot love, 
 — no creature can, — that which is not in itself lovely, 
 nor can there be guilt in the absence of such love. Let 
 me not be misapprehended. I am aware, that of what, is 
 in itself lovely, morally lovely, the likings of a depraved 
 nature can never be the legitimate standard. It is not 
 because Jehovah has lost his loveliness, that such a crea- 
 ture does not discern and admire it ; -^ — it is because the 
 creature has lost his rectitude of moral disposition, and 
 his consequent perceptions of moral beauty. But by the 
 supposition of which I am now speaking, Deity would be 
 divested of his loveliness. Look at it in every point of 
 ight. Is it the case of a holy creature, a creature that 
 has not sinned, consigned to perdition in the exercise of 
 pure sovereignty ? The supposition is one pregnant with 
 
LOVE 1*0 GOD. 263 
 
 ail that is revolting. It robs Deity, at once and utterly, 
 of whatever can possibly render him the object of love 
 and confidence, and converts him into a very demon of 
 malignity and unrighteousness. Is it, on the other hand, 
 a sinful creature, but one to whom the offers of mercy 
 through a Mediator have, in the divine name, been made, 
 who has humbly and thankfully accepted them, believing 
 in Christ, and confiding in the promises ? Does not the 
 supposition of such an one perishing involve, as flagrant- 
 ly as before, the same consequence ? -— divesting Deity 
 of all that can attract and retain the confiding affection 
 of his creatures ? It would be a violation of truth, ^— a 
 breach of covenant, — - a faithless dereliction of all the 
 revealed grace and blood-sealed engagements of the gos- 
 pel ! So that here too the contradiction remains, of God s 
 ceasing to be worthy of love, and the creature, notwith* 
 standing, being still bound to love him. —And is the sup- 
 position with which we set out, of a creature damned who 
 so loves God as to be satisfied with damnation for the sake 
 of his glory, less revolting than either of these?- — The 
 truth is, that all such suppositions, are, in their very na- 
 ture, blasphemous. They ought never to be so much as 
 admitted into the mind ; because, however much, in words, 
 they may seem to glorify God, they do, in reality, most 
 fearfully dishonor him. 
 
 It may perhaps be alleged, that the view thus given of 
 the principle of disinterested love is an extreme one, — 
 and that the extravagance of a few of its advocates can- 
 not be admitted as affording a fair and sober representa- 
 tion of it. Yet, if the principle itself be a just one, it is 
 not easy to see at what point the limit of disinterestedness 
 is to be fixed. If the perfection of love to God does con- 
 sist in loving him exclusively for what he is, indepen- 
 
264 ON BlSINTEfeESTEJD 
 
 dently altogether of what he is to us* — it is difficult to 
 fancy any point short of this extreme one> at which we 
 can consistently stop. But we at once deny, or rather 
 repeat the denial, that this 1 i$ the perfection of love to 
 God. We contend that it is essentially defective ; — and 
 that such perfection consists, neither in the love of com- 
 placency alone, nor in the love of gratitude alone, but in 
 the union of both. We contend that in the bosom of a 
 holy creature they are incapable of distinct subsistence, 
 gratitude without complacency, or complacency without 
 gratitude. Now it is obviously from the state of the prin- 
 ciple in the bosom of such a creature, that our notion of 
 its perfection must be formed ; — and if there the two are 
 in union, why is a purer and a loftier disinterestedness, ac- 
 cording to the false notions of the system which requires 
 it, to be demanded of man when regenerated from his 
 sinful debasement, than existed in man during his original 
 innocence and glory. 
 
 to Ue ?eceden- ^e same observation, perhaps, respecting 
 cyinconver- tlieir inseparable union as constituting the true 
 
 sion of com- J ° 
 
 piacency or perfection of love, may contribute to the deter- 
 
 gratitude. — x J 
 
 Priority of ruination of another question, — Which of the 
 
 the former 
 
 pleaded for two, in conversion, is to be regarded as having 
 
 by Edwards. ' ' . _ ° . . ° 
 
 the precedence. President Edwards insists upon 
 it, that all genuine love to God commences in a compla- 
 cential regard to him for what he is ; that true gratitude 
 must invariably be preceded by this, and have it for the 
 foundation on which it rests. Now, that there can be no 
 true gratitude for his goodness and grace to us, apart 
 from complacency in God for what he is in himself, I 
 have already freely admitted; but that the latter must 
 always rise in the soul first, taking precedence of the 
 other, either in nature or in time, I am far from being so 
 willing to concede. 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 265 
 
 " In a holy thakfulness to God," says Edwards, " the 
 concern our interest has in the divine goodness is not the 
 first foundation of our being affected with it. That was 
 laid in the heart before, in that stock of love which was 
 to God for his excellency in himself, that makes the 
 heart tender, and susceptible of such impressions from 
 his goodness to us. Nor is our own interest, or the benefit 
 we have received, the only or the chief objective ground 
 of the present exercise of the affection, but God's good- 
 ness as part of the beauty of his nature ; although the 
 manifestations of that lovely attribute, set immediately 
 before our eyes in the exercises of it for us, be the special 
 occasion of the mind's attention to that beauty at that 
 time, and serves to fix the attention, and heighten the 
 affection."* The love is represented by him as " arising 
 primarily from the exellency of divine things as they are 
 in themselves, and not from any conceived relation they 
 have to our own interest." And in the same strain he 
 speaks respecting spiritual joy. " The first foundation 
 of the delight a true saint has in God is his own perfec- 
 tion; and the first foundation of the delight he has in 
 Christ is his own beauty : he appears in himself ' the 
 chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely.' The 
 way of salvation by Christ is a delightful way to him, 
 for the sweet and admirable manifestations of the divine 
 perfections in it: the holy doctrines of the gospel, by 
 which God is exalted and man abased, holiness honored 
 and promoted, and sin greatly disgraced and discouraged, 
 and free and sovereign love manifested, are glorious doc- 
 trines in his eyes, and sweet to his taste, prior to any con- 
 
 * Treatise on Rel. Affect. Part III. Second Sign of gracious 
 Affections. 
 
 ' 23 
 
266 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 ception of his interest in these things. The saints rejoice 
 in their interest in God, and that Christ is theirs; and 
 ■they have great reason : but this is not the first spring of 
 •their joy. They first rejoice in God as glorious and excel- 
 lent in himself, and then, secondarily, rejoice in it, that so 
 glorious a God is theirs."* 
 
 I almost fear to detract anything from the high-toned 
 loftiness of the principles of character thus laid down. 
 Yet I cannot but suspect that in insisting on the invaria- 
 ble precedence of the abstract love of God for what he is, 
 to any sentiment of gratitude to him for what he reveals 
 himself as having done, there is more of the metaphysics 
 of the schools than of the symplicity of the Bible ; a kind 
 of transcendentalism, that passes the limits of divine 
 requirement. What, in point of fact, is the prevailing 
 style of gospel invitation? When sinners are addressed 
 in these invitations, is the ground assumed by the Apos- 
 Bearingon ties the abstract excellence and matchless love- 
 
 tbis question 
 
 of the style liness of the divine character, independently of 
 
 of gospel . i. j 
 
 invitation, any relation in which he stands to themselves ? 
 Is it not rather " the riches of his grace," his " kindness 
 towards them in Christ Jesus," his " delight in mercy," 
 his readiness to save? I adduce a single specimen, 
 which the memory of every reader of the New Testament 
 will recognize as in harmony with the whole spirit and 
 tenor of its contents. It is 2 Cor. v. 18 --—21. "And 
 all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself 
 by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us \he ministry of 
 reconciliation ; to wit, that God was in Christ, reconcile 
 ing the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses 
 unto them ; and hath committed unto us the word of re- 
 
 * Treatise on Rel. Affect. Part III. Second Sign of gracious 
 Affections. 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 267 
 
 conciliation. Now then we are embassadors for Christ, 
 as though God did beseech by us, we pray (men) in 
 Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God. For he hath 
 made him who knew no sin to be sin for us ; that we 
 might be made the righteousness of God in him." 
 
 It is quite true, that wherever, by the illumination of 
 the Spirit, a spiritual discernment is imparted of the mer- 
 cy of God to sinners in Christ Jesus, there comes along 
 with it a discovery to the soul of divine beauty, and espe- 
 cially of that infinite love, of which, in its union with 
 light, so transcendent a manifestation is made by the gos- 
 pel. But still, in the unqualified assertion, that all true 
 love to God must begin, not with the emotion of gratitude, 
 not with any feeling of self-interest, but with admiring 
 complacency and delight in the abstract perfection of 
 divine loveliness, there is something which is fitted to 
 awaken startling doubts, and to engender needlessly, per- 
 plexing and discouraging fears, in the bosoms of many, 
 to whom God would speak comfort and peace. I refer 
 to those who, when first convinced of sin, and alarmed by 
 the apprehension of its consequences, flee at once to God, 
 as the God of salvation, and lay hold of his covenanted 
 mercy ; and in whose souls the first emotion of which 
 they are conscious is that of loondering gratitude, — the 
 emotion which natively arises from the style of gospel 
 invitation as above exemplified. 
 
 I confess myself, indeed, at a loss to discern Seif-incon- 
 
 ^ sistency of 
 
 the consistency of Edwards' own statement. Edwards' 
 
 statement. 
 
 While he affirms, that the doctrine of the cross 
 must appear glorious in the sinner's eyes, and be felt 
 sweet to his taste, "prior to omij conception of his inter- 
 est" in that which they make known to him, — heat 
 the same time admits, that "the manifestations of the 
 
268 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 lovely attribute of the divine goodness set immediately 
 before our eyes in its exercise for us, are the special occa- 
 sion of the mind's attention to that beauty at the time." 
 Now, if the special exercise of the attribute in what it has 
 done for us be the means by which the attribute in its gen- 
 eral amiableness is introduced and commended to our atten- 
 tion and affectionate regard, — how is it conceivable, how is 
 it possible, that the attribute itself, in its abstract excellence, 
 should become the object of our complacent delight and 
 love in the first instance, and prior to any conception of 
 our own interest in the discovery made of it? To me it 
 seems evident, that, in the bosom of a consciously guilty 
 creature, the view of the divine justice, and purity, and 
 determined hostility to all sin, must necessarily engender 
 despair, and nothing but despair. Now in despair there 
 is no love, — no love either of complacency or of grati- 
 tude. It has been said, with as much truth of sentiment 
 as sublimity of illustration, that " a sinner can no more 
 admire and love the character of a holy God, when it 
 opens upon his mind in a convincing manifestation, than 
 he can survey with pleasure the beauties of a lovely land- 
 scape, when the light by which he sees it is the sudden 
 fire of a bursting volcano."* 
 
 While, however, we plead for the legitimacy and the 
 duty of gratitude, as one of the emotions to which the 
 believing view of the cross gives birth, and one of the 
 habitual principles which the faith of the cross maintains, 
 it must ever be borne in mind, that we plead for that 
 gratitude only which is associated with love to God for 
 Sentiments what he is, and for all that he is. It is, to say 
 
 of Robert . 
 
 Sandeman. the very least of it, a most unfortunate expres- 
 * Dr. Chalmers. 
 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 269 
 
 sion of Mr. Sandeman, that " all a sinner's god- Mr. Fuller's 
 liness consists in love to that which first relieved upon them, 
 hirn." On this expression chiefly, the late Mr. Fuller 
 rests the conclusion, that the whole of the practical sys- 
 tem of Sandemanianism is founded in a principle of pure 
 selfishness ; a conclusion which he places in a variety 
 of opprobrious lights, and exposes with all his logical 
 acuteness and sarcastic severity. " He that views the 
 cross of Christ," says he, " merely as an expedient to re- 
 lieve the guilty, or only subscribes to the justice of God 
 in his condemnation when conceiving himself delivered 
 from it, has yet to learn the first principles of Christianity. 
 His rejoicing in the justice of God, as satisfied by the 
 death of Christ, while he hates it in itself considered, is 
 no more than rejoicing in a dreaded tyrant being appeased, 
 or somehow diverted from coming to hurt him. And 
 shall we call this love of God ? To make our deliverance 
 from divine condemnation the condition of our subscrib- 
 ing to the justice of it, proves, beyond all contradiction, 
 that we care only for ourselves, and that the love of God 
 is not in us." This is most true : — if the supposed senti- 
 ment be held, there is no evading the conclusion. But 
 who, I would ask, ever avowed, ever held, ever could hold, 
 such a sentiment? 
 
 In the system of Sandeman there are positions from 
 which I decidedly dissent ; and the spirit in which he 
 has propounded his system I hold in unqualified detesta- 
 tion. But the views exhibited in his writings of the 
 ground of a sinner's hope, and of the simplicity of the 
 medium of interest in that ground, are in general admira- 
 bly clear ; — and I cannot but think that, in affixing to 
 his ideas of godliness the stigma of unmingled selfishness, 
 more has been made of his strong and, it may be admit- 
 *23 
 
270 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 ted, unguarded language, than, in candid interpretation, 
 it will bear. I question if, by the obnoxious expression 
 of which Mr. Fuller makes so ample a use, Mr. Sandeman 
 meant more than a sinner's love to God must regard him 
 in the relation in which the gospel reveals him, — that 
 is, as the God of grace and salvation, - — as " in Christ 
 reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their 
 trespasses unto them." Let it be observed, that, to inter- 
 pret the expression as " making our deliverance from con- 
 demnation the condition of our subscribing to the justice 
 of it" is to make his sentiment not merely selfish, but 
 self-contradictory, and its author not only heretical, but 
 devoid of understanding. For, according to this inter- 
 pretation, there is obviously, on the sinner's part, no sub- 
 scribing to the justice of his sentence at all ; inasmuch 
 as not to acknowledge a sentence just, except upon the 
 condition of its not being executed, is in truth to pro- 
 nounce it unjust. I will venture to say, that no profes- 
 sor of the faith of the gospel ever held such a sentiment, 
 and that no man on earth (judging from his writings) 
 was ever farther from holding it than Robert Sandeman ; 
 whose entire system proceeds on the assumption of 
 the unimpeachable righteousness of legal condemna- 
 tion, and the consequent unconditional freeness of gos- 
 pel grace. 
 The ques- The question now before us is, indeed, a 
 
 tion one of . . 
 
 fact rather question rather oi jact than of theory. The 
 reticai doc-" question is, Does any depraved and guilty crea- 
 ture — Can any depraved and guilty creature, 
 ever love and rejoice in the justice of God, till he has some 
 perception of the union of that justice with mercy in the 
 discoveries of the gospel % Till then, he hates it, and he 
 cannot but hate it. A heart that is enmity against God, 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 271 
 
 and regardless of his glory, cannot but hate what con- 
 demns itself and subjects it to destruction. But, although 
 the sinner, in his unconverted state, is thus selfish, solici- 
 tous only to escape suffering, whatever become of the 
 divine honor, — it does not at all follow, that because it 
 is the discovery to his mind of the union of holiness, with 
 mercy, of justice with grace, that first attracts and 
 fixes his love, therefore that love, at the time, and ever 
 after, must be a selfish principle. With equal reason 
 might it be pleaded, that the love which an unf alien 
 and sinless creature bears to God must be a selfish love, 
 because, in loving the divine justice, he loves it as a part 
 of the divine character, — that is, he loves it in its insep- 
 arable union with infinite benevolence. And yet, to love 
 it otherwise, to love it abstractedly from such benevolence, 
 would not, most assuredly, be to love it as it subsists in 
 God : — for there, from eternity to eternity, the two are 
 inseparably blended ; — the justice is benevolent justice, 
 the benevolence righteous benevolence ; and every one at- 
 tribute of the character must be loved in its association 
 with all the rest. 
 
 How, then, stands the case ? What is the Summary of 
 view of his character in which God actually state of the 
 becomes the object of love to the converted sin- 
 ner? To this question I would answer in one word, — 
 it is the view of it in which it is revealed in the cross. 
 There the spiritually enlightened sinner sees " Meicy and 
 Truth meeting together, Righteousness and Peace em- 
 bracing each other," — holiness in union with love, jus- 
 tice with grace ; — and, under the agency of the regen- 
 erating Spirit, he loves God in the unbroken harmony of 
 all his attributes, as displayed in the Redeemer's work, — 
 the harmony of " light " and " love." The light without 
 
272 ON DISINTERESTED 
 
 the love, — the purity of the divine nature flashing upon 
 the mind apart from its benevolence, could only drive to 
 despair : — the love without the light, the mere benevo- 
 lence of God disunited from his essential purity, could 
 engender no feeling but that of a selfish satisfaction in 
 sin. But, light and love together constituting the true 
 character of God as it is manifested in the cross, it is in 
 this view of it that it becomes the object of love to the 
 believing sinner. The very consideration, that the love 
 which springs up in his bosom is love to God as He is 
 seen in Jesus Christ, is of itself sufficient to show that it 
 must be love to holiness as well as to goodness ; — for the 
 love displayed in Christ is holy love, love so blended and 
 incorporated with purity, that in the mind which takes a 
 right view of the Savior's work, the one cannot be disu- 
 nited from the other. On the cross, the two inscriptions 
 stand alike conspicuous — " God is light," and " God is 
 love." Both are seen together; both are believed togeth- 
 er; and the love which springs from this faith regards 
 the divine Being under both aspects, — comprehending at 
 once gratitude to the God of mercy, and delight in the 
 God of holiness. It is thus the same principle with that 
 which rules in the bosoms of creatures that have never 
 fallen. 
 
 There is in the nature of the divine Being what is 
 fitted to inspire the very holiest and happiest of creatures 
 with awe, even while they love, delight, and adore. The 
 entire character, in all its parts, is at once the object of 
 " reverence and godly fear," and of the purest, the most 
 fervent, and the most confiding affection ; and by the con- 
 templation of ft in the cross, both feelings are called forth 
 into exercise, even in angelic bosoms. Were it in our 
 power to separate these views of God ; — could we give a 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 273 
 
 guilt}'' creature, in the full consciousness of his guilt, to see 
 one side only of the manifestation, — to see the cross as the 
 exhibition solely of the untainted purity, the undissem- 
 bling truth, the unbending justice, and the avenging jeal- 
 ousy, of the Being with whom he has to do, the cross it- 
 self would become the mightiest instrument of torture to 
 the awakened soul, — subjecting it to the agonies of a 
 spiritual crucifixion, — inflicting on it the horrors of de- 
 spair. But the cross, while it shows the holiness of God 
 in all its purity, the justice of God in all its strictness, 
 and the jealousy of God in all its consuming terrors, 
 holds forth also to view the love of God in all its infini- 
 tude, the compassions of God in all their tenderness, the 
 mercy of God in all its fullness and freeness : — so that, 
 from the believing view of it there spring up, at the same 
 moment, the emotions of affectionate fear and reverential 
 love, — of complacent delight and thankful joy, — under 
 the combined influence of which the happy spirit relies 
 upon him, serves him, imitates him, enjoys him : — and in 
 ninety-nine cases out of the hundred, — probably in nine 
 hundred and ninety-nine out of the thousand, were the 
 metaphysical question proposed to the simple-hearted sub- 
 ject of divine grace, while charmed and melted and 
 gladdened by the new lights that have come in 
 upon his mind, whether the love of gratitude or the love 
 of complacency had first touched his soul, — he would 
 be at a loss for a reply : — he would be in danger of fret- 
 ting at the unwelcome interruption thrown into the de- 
 lightful current of his feelings ; and especially if you 
 joined with the inquiry, the puzzle about the order of na* 
 ture and the order of time : he could only tell you, that 
 he he had seen the love of God in Christ, and that it had 
 won and captivated his heart ; — that in Christ he saw 
 
274 ON DISINTERESTED LOVE TO GOD. 
 
 God as at once the God of grace and the God of holi- 
 ness ; and that he loved him for both, — for the grace of 
 his holiness, and for the holiness of his grace, — for 
 what he was in himself, and for what he had done for 
 sinners ! 
 
 Considering, as I do, the love of God as the grand 
 essential principle of all morality, I have devoted to it 
 the greater measure of attention. In next Lecture, which 
 will close the series, we shall see how this great principle 
 is brought into operation by the gospel, — and what are 
 the peculiarities to which the discoveries of the gospel 
 give rise, in the exercise both of this primary principle 
 and of the " second which is like unto it," the love of our 
 neighbor. We shall have occasion, in illustrating these 
 topics, to offer a few strictures on the theory of virtue pro- 
 posed and advocated by President Edwards. 
 
LECTURE IX. 
 
 ON THE PECULIARITIES OF CHRISTIAN OBLIGAITN ANB 
 DUTY. 
 
 Rom. XII. 1. 
 " I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God." 
 
 In last Lecture, I had occasion to notice the sentiments 
 of the unrivaled theological metaphysician, Jonathan 
 Edwards, on the necessity of disinterestedness in our love 
 to God. I shall introduce the subject of the present Lec- 
 ture by a few strictures on his more general theory of vir- 
 tue ; a theory, which the celebrity of its author entitled 
 to an earlier notice, but which would not have found a 
 place formerly, without, in some degree, anticipating other 
 topics. 
 
 Accordino* to Edwards, then, true virtue con- strictures on 
 
 ° ' Edwards' 
 
 sists in " benevolence to being in general. Such theory of 
 
 ° ° . virtue.— 
 
 is his own expression : — " True virtue most statementof 
 
 . ,_ ... . ... the theory. 
 
 essentially consists in benevolence to being m 
 general : — or, perhaps, to speak more accurately, it is that 
 consent, propensity, and union of heart, to being in gen- 
 eral, that is immediately exercised in a general good will." 
 More at large : — " When I say, true virtue consists in 
 love to being in general, I shall not be likely to be under- 
 stood, that no one act of the mind, or exercise of love, is 
 
276 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 of the nature of true virtue, but what has being in gen- 
 eral, or the great system of universal: existence, for it3 
 direct and immediate object ; so that no exercise of love, 
 or kind affection towards any one particular being, that is 
 but a small part of this whole, has anything of the nature 
 of true virtue. But that the nature of true virtue con- 
 sists in a disposition to benevolence towards being in gen- 
 eral ; though, from such a disposition may arise exercises 
 of love to particular beings, as objects are presented and 
 occasions arise. No wonder, that he who is of a gener- 
 ally benevolent disposition should be more disposed than 
 another to have his heart moved with benevolent affection 
 to particular persons, whom he is acquainted and con- 
 versant with, and from whom arise the greatest and most 
 frequent occasions for exciting his benevolent temper. 
 But my meaning is, that no affections towards particular 
 persons or beings are of the nature of true virtue, but such 
 as arise from a generally benevolent temper, or from that 
 habit or frame of mind wherein consists a disposition to 
 love being in general." 
 
 Again, he says: — "That temper, or disposition of 
 heart, that consent, union, or propensity of mind to being 
 in general — is virtue truly so called ; or, in other words, 
 true grace or real holiness. And no other disposition or 
 affection but this is of the nature of true virtue."* 
 
 This benevolence to being, as might be supposed, is al- 
 together irrespective of character. Embracing all intelli- 
 gent and sentient existence, it is simple good will, with 
 nothing in it of the nature of complacence : — " What I 
 would have observed at present is, that it must be allowed 
 benevolence doth not necessarily pre-suppose beauty in its 
 
 * Diss, on the Nature of true Virtue. Chap. i. 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 277 
 
 object. What is commonly called love of complacence 
 presupposes beauty. For it is no other than delight in 
 beauty, or complacence in the person or being beloved for 
 his beauty. If virtue be the beauty of an intelligent 
 being, and virtue consists in love, then it is a plain incon- 
 sistence to suppose that virtue primarily consists in any 
 love to its object for its beauty, either in a love of compla- 
 cence, which is a delight in a being for his beauty, or in 
 a love of benevolence that has the beauty of its object 
 or its foundation. For that would be to suppose that the 
 beauty of intelligent beings primarily consists in love to 
 beauty, or that their virtue first of all consists in their love to 
 virtue ; — which is an inconsistence, and going in a 
 circle."* 
 
 This general affection, of benevolence to being uni- 
 versally, is parceled out amongst individual beings, ac- 
 cording to the proportions of their respective degrees of 
 existence : — " Pure benevolence, in its first exercise, is 
 nothing else but being's uniting consent, or propensity to 
 being ; appearing true and pure by its extending to being 
 in general, and including to the highest general good, 
 and to each being, whose welfare is consistent with the 
 highest general good, in proportion to the degrees of ex- 
 istence, — understand other things being equal."! The 
 " degree of existence" is thus explained : — ■ " I say, in 
 proportion of the degree of existence : because one being 
 may have more existence than another, as he may be 
 greater than another. That which is great has more 
 existence, and is further from nothing, than that which 
 is little. — An archangel must be supposed to have more 
 
 * Diss, on the Natnre of true Virtue. Chap. i. 
 t Ibid. 
 
 24 
 
278 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 existence, and to be everywhere further removed from 
 nonentity, then a worm."* 
 
 "General entity" being thus the primary object of 
 virtuous affection or propensity, the second, according to 
 the theory, is "benevolent being;" in other words, "a 
 secondary ground of pure benevolence is virtuous benevo- 
 lence itself in its object" "When any one under the 
 influence of general benevolence sees another being pos- 
 sessed of the like general benevolence, this attaches his 
 heart to him, and draws forth greater love to him, than 
 merely his having existence. He looks on a benevo- 
 lent propensity to being in general, wherever he sees it, 
 as the beauty of the being in whom it is ; an excellency, 
 that renders him worthy of esteem, complacence, and the 
 greater good will."t — It is here, then, under this second- 
 ary ground of benevolence, that any place is found for 
 complacence or moral esteem. I reserve remarks ; I only 
 now state the theory. 
 
 True virtue consisting in love to being in general, it 
 follows, on the principles of the theory, and forms accord- 
 ingly one of its essential articles, that it must consist chief- 
 ly in love to God. — This is founded both in the primary 
 and the secondary ground of benevolence. According to 
 the former, benevolence to being in general regarding in- 
 dividual be'ngs in proportion to their respective degrees of 
 existence, — " it follows, as a necessary consequence, that 
 that Being who has the most of being, or the greatest 
 share of universal existence, has proportionably the great- 
 est share of virtuous benevolence : " — which necessarily 
 places the divine Being, as " infinitely the greatest," 
 
 * Ibid. Note to the preceding citation. 
 tDiss. on the Nature of true Virtue. Chap. i. 
 
 I 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 279 
 
 and having " infinitely the greatest share of existence," 
 infinitely above every other being and all other being 
 combined, as the object of this benevolence. Accord- 
 ing to the latter, — the love of benevolent being regard- 
 ing its objects in proportion to the measure of this 
 benevolence, that is, of spiritual beauty or moral excel- 
 lency, apparent in their respective characters; — God, be- 
 ing not only the greatest of beings, but " infinitely the 
 most beautiful and excellent," so that "all the beauty 
 throughout the whole creation is but the reflection of the 
 diffused beams of that Being who hath an infinite full- 
 ness of brightness and glory," — " he that has true virtue, 
 consisting in benevolence to being in general, and in that 
 complacence in virtue, or moral beauty, and benevolence 
 to virtuous being, must necessarily have — a supreme love 
 to God, both of benevolence and complacence. And all 
 true virtue must, radically and essentially, and as it were 
 summarily, consist in this."* 
 
 It would be foreign to the object of these Lee- objections 
 
 • ii' ■ • ■■ -i • to the the - 
 
 tures, and especially to the particular subject ory. 
 
 now before us, to enter into the minuter details of this 
 theory. It is with leading and essential principles we 
 have at present to do. I shall say nothing of the char- 
 acteristic tendency of the author's mind to metaphysical 
 abstraction, as indicated in his selection of phraseology ; 
 the word being or entity "serving," as has, I think with 
 justice, been observed, "to give the theory a mysterious 
 outside, but bringing with it from the schools nothing 
 except their obscurity." t Neither shall I dwell on what 
 the same authority designates his " really unmeaning as- 
 
 * Diss, on the Nature of true Virtue. Chap. ii. 
 t Sir James Mackintosh's Prelim. Dissert p. 341. 
 
280 PECULIARITIES OP 
 
 sertion, or assumption, that there are degrees of exist- 
 ence:"* an assertion, which certainly wears the aspect 
 rather of a metaphysical pleasantry, or jeu dH esprit, than 
 of the seriously propounded basis of an ethical system. 
 " When we try such a phrase," says Sir James Mackin- 
 tosh, " by applying it to matters within the sphere of our 
 own experience, we see that it means nothing but degrees 
 of certain faculties and powers." f What more can it 
 mean? Qualities, whether physical or intellectual, we 
 know to be susceptible of degrees. Their nature admits 
 of them ; every day's observation discovers them. But 
 in simple existence, the talk about them is mere illusion. 
 Everything that is is, as much as everything else that 
 is : — in the mere fact of being there cannot surely be 
 any distinction of more or less. Edwards's own explana- 
 tion shows this : — " That which is great has more ex- 
 istence, and is farther from nothing, than that which is 
 little. One being may have everything positive belong- 
 ing to it, and everything which goes to its positive exist- 
 ence (in opposition to defect) in a higher degree than 
 another ; or a greater capacity and power, greater under- 
 standing, every faculty and every positive quality, in a 
 higher degree." J When the statement is thus divested 
 of its abstract peculiarity of form, and being or existence 
 is explained as comprehending capacity, power, under- 
 standing, every faculty, and every positive quality ; we 
 cease, indeed, to be at any loss to find room for degrees, 
 but we are fain to smile at the common-place simplicity 
 into which what wore so much of the garb of metaphys- 
 
 * Sir James Mackintosh's Prelim. Dissert, p. 341, 
 t Ibid. 
 
 * Dissert, on the Nature of true Virtue. Chap. i. Note, 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 281 
 
 ical abstraction has resolved itself, — how shallow what 
 seemed so deep ! Passing, however, from these things, I 
 may be allowed, with all diffidence, to observe: — 
 
 In the first place, — according to the principles of this 
 theory, we must regard benevolence to being in general, 
 as forming the sum total of the character ,-of Deity, or of 
 what Edwards (in terms more befitting philosophic spec- 
 ulation than Christian devotion) denominates " God's vir- 
 tue:" the benevolence including, of t course, among its 
 objects, Himself, as infinitely the greatest, because pos- 
 sessing infinitely the largest amount of being. But it 
 certainly requires an ingenuity and metaphysical refining, 
 far beyond the plain simplicity of the Bible, to bring all 
 the attributes of the divine character under the category 
 of benevolence. Righteousness and truth, for example, — 
 how can they be reduced under it, but by the operation of 
 some such scholastic process ? They are distinct from it 
 in the common sense of mankind; they are distinct from 
 it in all the representations of Scripture. 
 
 Secondly: — With regard to the virtue of the creature; 
 we have seen on what grounds that benevolence in which 
 it is summed up is regarded as consisting chiefly in love 
 to God, — namely, that he is infinitely the greatest and 
 infinitely the best of beings, possessing infinitely the 
 largest amount of existence, and infinitely the largest 
 measure of moral excellence. The former of these is the 
 primary ground of virtuous disposition; and the disposi- 
 tion, on that ground, having regard simply to being, not 
 to character, has in it nothing of the nature of compla- 
 cence. The love, therefore, of the creature to the Crea- 
 tor, in its proper and primary exercise, has in it no 
 complacence in the divine excellence, or moral beauty. 
 And when, on the secondary ground of virtuous disposi- 
 *24 
 
282 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 tion, complacence does find a place, into what, after all, 
 does it resolve itself? It is nothing more than compla- 
 cence in that very benevolence to being which is the sum 
 of divine as well as of human virtue. But what is com- 
 placence in this benevolence beyond the benevolence itself? 
 Nothing : it is only another exercise of the same princi- 
 ple. " Loving a being on this ground," says Edwards 
 himself, — (meaning the ground of "a benevolent propen- 
 sity to being in general, as the beauty of the being in 
 whom it is,") — "loving a being on this ground necessa- 
 rily arises from pure benevolence to being in general, and 
 comes to the same thing ; " so that, our very complacence 
 in God is no more than a modified operation of that be- 
 nevolence to being, in which, whether Deity or the crea- 
 ture be its object, there is no complacence. The benevo- 
 lence having regard, not to character, but. simply to 
 being, so also ultimately, though not immediately, must 
 the complacence. 
 
 Thirdly : — The theory sets aside, from among the vir- 
 tues, all the more limited and peculiar social affections of 
 our nature, whether those of kindred, of friendship, or of 
 country. This is manifest. If it be so, that "no other 
 affection is of the nature of true virtue," besides the "pro- 
 pensity of mind to being in general," it is a necessary 
 sequence, that in as far as the more private affections rest 
 on grounds which are at all more special and limited, 
 they have nothing in them of the nature of true virtue. 
 But the source of these affections is not benevolence to 
 being in general, nor the perception of such benevolence 
 existing in their objects: they are founded in the peculiar 
 relations of those objects to ourselves. In thus excluding 
 the private affections from the catalogue of the virtues, 
 the theory symbolizes with the Godwinean system, by 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 283 
 
 which all these affections were, in like manner, merged 
 in the one equalizing sentiment of general philanthropy ; 
 a system which, while it outraged all the feelings of our 
 nature, and was contradicted in every man's bosom by the 
 emotions of every hour, contained at the same time a libel 
 on the wisdom of the " Only Wise," by whose kind ap- 
 pointment it is that those affections are the strongest 
 whose salutary operation is most defined and concen- 
 trated, and most immediately and urgently required ; 
 which do not roam at large over so vast a field as the 
 unseen millions of our species, or, still more inefficiently, 
 lose themselves in the infinite abstraction of universal 
 being. Like every other system that has speculated 
 against the laws of nature, it could not maintain its 
 ground. 
 
 Fourthly : — The theory does not embrace in it, as 
 among the ingredients of love to God, the principle of 
 gratitude. Gratitude, we have formerly seen, is love to 
 God for what he is to us. But this cannot be included 
 in benevolence to being in general; and the exclusion of 
 it is one of the great defects of the system, — a system 
 which owes its origin, perhaps, to no uncommon source 
 of defective theory, the philosophic predilection for sim- 
 plifying, and reducing all virtue to some one disposition. 
 There may, indeed, have been another cause of the error: 
 namely, that, since the primary principles of moral ex- 
 cellence must be found in God, gratitude cannot be of 
 the number, — there being no possibility of its existence 
 in the infinite Mind ; inasmuch as it would be blasphemy 
 to imagine any obligation to lie on Him who gives to all, 
 and receives from none, — the Fountain into which noth- 
 ing flows, but from which proceed all the streams of 
 blessing in the universe. "Who hath first given him ? 
 
284 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 and it shall be recompensed unto him again." But to 
 conclude from this, that the love of gratitude towards 
 God cannot belong to the essence of virtue in the crea- 
 ture, appears to indicate a strange inconsideration of a 
 very simple principle, — the principle, namely, that the 
 great essential elements of rectitude are necessarily modi- 
 fied by diversity of relative condition. There is a differ- 
 ence between the duties of a parent and the duties of a 
 child, and between the parental and filial affections by 
 which the respective duties are dictated: — but both the 
 one and the other are modifications of the same general 
 elementary principles of moral goodness. The same is 
 the case, in the intercourse of mankind, with regard to 
 the benefactor and the recipient of the benefit. Benevo- 
 lence is the virtue of the one ; gratitude the virtue of the 
 other. It would be as unreasonable to say that there is 
 no virtue in gratitude because it is not benevolence, as it 
 would be to say, that there is no virtue in benevolence 
 because it is not gratitude. Each is the peculiar modifi- 
 cation of the general principles of rectitude, appropriate 
 to the relative position of the party to whom it apper- 
 tains. The principle of this simple distinction is evi- 
 dently applicable, with equal force, to the relation be- 
 tween the Creator and the creature; — so that that may 
 be essentially virtuous in the creature which cannot have 
 any subsistence in the Creator; because it maybe pre- 
 cisely that modification of the great principles of rectitude 
 which pertains to the relation of dependent existence. 
 Benevolence may thus be moral goodness in the Creator, 
 while gratitude, or a suitable return for that benevolence, 
 is moral goodness in the creature. It is on this ground, — 
 (the ground that the general principles of rectitude are 
 modified by difference of relative condition, and conse- 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 285 
 
 quently that the virtues of different relations are modifi- 
 cations of these general principles,)— it is on this ground, 
 that we can affirm obedience to the law of God to be perfect, 
 although the individual subject of it has not been placed 
 in all the relations and conditions to which its preceptive 
 requirements extend. Were the ground we have stated 
 incorrect, this could in no instance be affirmed. We 
 could not say that Adam's obedience was perfect during 
 the period of his innocence; nor could we with truth 
 pronounce " the man Christ Jesus " himself to have ful- 
 filled the law, because there were many conditions and 
 relations embraced in its commands, in which he was not 
 and could not be placed. But we call that obedience to 
 the law perfect, in which there is a perfect spiritual con- 
 formity to its elementary principles in the dispositions and 
 conduct of the agent, in all the departments in which he 
 is called to think, or feel, or speak, or act.* 
 
 While on these and other grounds we conceive this 
 moral theory to be essentially faulty, it is with high and 
 unqualified approbation that we quote the following senti- 
 ments, which are in full harmony with the positions we 
 have formerly taken up ; — only premising, that the love 
 to God, for which the place is so peremptorily claimed of 
 the foundation of all practical morals, must be understood 
 as comprehending, along with benevolence, or delight in 
 the divine happiness, complacence in the divine excel- 
 lence, and gratitude for the divine goodness : — " Hence 
 it appears, that those schemes of philosophy, which, how- 
 ever well iri some respects they may treat of benevolence 
 to mankind, and other virtues depending on it, yet have 
 not a supreme regard to God and love to him laid in the 
 
 * Notes and Illustrations. Note S. 
 
286 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 foundation, and all other virtues handled in a connection 
 with this, and in a subordination to this, are not true 
 schemes of philosophy, but are fundamentally and essen- 
 tially defective. And, whatever other benevolence, or 
 generosity towards mankind, and other virtues, or moral 
 qualifications, that go by that name, any are possessed of, 
 that are not attended with a love to God, which is alto- 
 gether above them, and to which they are subordinate, 
 and on which they are dependent, there is nothing of the 
 nature of true virtue or religion in them. And it may be 
 asserted in general, that nothing is of the nature of true 
 virtue, in which God is not the first and the last : or 
 which, with regard to their exercise in general, have not 
 their first foundation and source in apprehensions of God's 
 supreme dignity and glory, and in answerable esteem and 
 love of Him, and have no respect to God as the supreme 
 end." 
 
 influence of In illustrating the practical influence of the 
 
 the gospel in . . . . 
 
 producing gospel, and the peculiarities of Onnstian Obliga- 
 te to God. . . . r . , . . T , , , t . 
 
 Nature and tion arising from its discoveries, I shall begin 
 f£th* 101 with the bearing of those discoveries on the 
 generation and maintenence of this great principle of 
 love to God. But first allow me a remark or two on the 
 antipathy and contempt with which philosophers have 
 ever talked of faith, as the divinely recogn ized spring of 
 moral duty. Never was antipathy, never was contempt, 
 more unphilosophical. I am aware, indeed, of the occa- 
 sion that has been given for both, by the mysticism in 
 which the very term has too often been involved, — 
 and of which, as might have been anticipated, infidels 
 have not been slow to avail themselves, — laughing at 
 faith as something transcendental and inexplicable, pos- 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 287 
 
 sessed by the initiated in mysterious appropriation, but 
 which it would be a kind of profanation to simplify. Yet 
 nothing is more simple than either its own nature or the 
 nature of its influence. Faith is no mysterious, abstract, 
 undefinable principle. The scriptural definition of it is 
 " the belief of the truth"* It invariably regards an 
 object ; so that there can no more be faith without some- 
 thing believed, than there can be love without something 
 loved : — and the entire influence of faith, as a practical 
 principle, arises from the nature and felt importance of 
 the truth believed. This also is the simple scriptural 
 account of the matter : — " When ye received the word of 
 God which ye heard from us, ye received it, not as the 
 word of men, but (as it is in truth) the word of God, which 
 effectually worketh also in you that believe."^ 
 
 It is in the truth oelieved that the motives to holy prac- 
 tice are contained ; and these motives are brought to bear 
 upon the mind and upon the immediate principles of ac- 
 tion, when the evidence of the truth is discerned, and it 
 is " received in the love of it." Hence the Apostle Paul 
 says — " Faith worketh by love." % What can be more 
 simple ? Faith is the belief of the truth. The truth be- 
 lieved is a testimony from God, which sets his own char- 
 acter in the most amiable of all possible lights. The 
 belief of this testimony produces love to the divine subject 
 of it ; and this love operates in active obedience. Where 
 is the mystery of all this? Where is the ground for the 
 ridicule and satire of the soi-disant philosopher % The 
 principle on which the power of faith proceeds is alto- 
 gether rational : — it is the principle, that a truth under- 
 stood and believed will produce effects corresponding to 
 
 * 2 Thess. ii. 13. t 1 Thess. ii. 13. % Gal. v. 6. 
 
288 PECULIARITIES Otf 
 
 its nature and to the circumstances of the persons believ- 
 ing it. It is from the nature and native tendency of the 
 truth believed, that faith becomes the principle of charac- 
 ter: — -so that the believer's being "sanctified by the 
 truth," and his heart being " purified by faith" are expres- 
 sions of equivalent import.* 
 
 In this great article of Christian Ethics, therefore, — 
 namely, the necessity and the power of faith, — there is 
 nothing in the least degree beyond the range of the most 
 perfect simplicity. It is in accordance with all the ad- 
 milted phenomena in the constitution of the human mind. 
 Every one is aware of the influence of the sentiments of 
 the mind upon the affections and desires of the heart, and 
 through them, upon the general character. Every one is 
 aware, also, of the proportion which this influence bears 
 to the firmness with which the truth of the sentiments is 
 believed, and to the measure of value and importance at- 
 tached to them, — to the degree in which they are seen 
 to be true, and felt to be precious ; the nature of the influ- 
 ence corresponding with the nature of the sentiment ; the 
 degree of the influence with the strength of the hold 
 which the sentiment has upon the mind. To " live by 
 faith," therefore, is not to live by a mystical abstraction, 
 that defies reason, and is independent of evidence ; it is 
 to live under the habitual control of those motives to 
 trust and to obedience which the gospel doctrine, seen 
 and felt to be truth, and truth divine, brings to bear 
 in all their power of persuasive tenderness upon the 
 mind. 
 
 In further illustrating what these motives are, — what 
 are the special considerations by which, in those circum- 
 
 * Compare John xvii. 17. and Acts xv. 8, 9. 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 269 
 
 stances of new and peculiar obligation in which the me- 
 diation of Jesus Christ has placed our fallen world, the 
 principles and precepts of the divine law are enforced on 
 human observance, — I must be allowed to pro- Assumed 
 
 , .. ; • ends of the 
 
 ceed on the same assumption as heretofore ; — gospel. 
 namely, that the design of the mission of the Son of God 
 was, by an atonement for human guilt, — an atonement 
 made by the sacrificial substitution of himself in the room 
 of the condemned, — -so to "declare God's righteousness," 
 as that, in consistency with the claims and the glor}^ of 
 this attribute of the divine character and government, the 
 mercy in which Jehovah delights, might have scope for 
 its unrestrained exercise in the extension of pardon and 
 the bestowment of life : — and at. the same time, that, in 
 this doctrine of free mercy to the guilty through an 
 atoning; and interceding Mediator, an instrumental means 
 might be provided, fitted for winning back to God the 
 wayward spirits of the rebellious, and bringing them to 
 new, and holy, and happy subjection. These are the 
 two great ends which the gospel is designed to answer. 
 Both are comprehended in its being " the power of God 
 unto salvation." And in effecting both by one and the 
 same means, Jehovah appears acting in the moral as he 
 does in the physical world, where, with a similar econo- 
 my of instrumental agency, he often gives production from 
 one cause to no small variety of results. 
 
 Ever since the apostasy of man, God has Submission 
 
 ' l ^ to the mercy 
 
 been dealing with our world as a fallen world, of God in the 
 
 °. • *u i S° spel the 
 
 in the exercise of sovereign mercy, through a first thing 
 
 r required of 
 
 Mediator; and I can neither recede from, nor sinners, and 
 
 i • u necessity of 
 
 qualify my former statement, that, in sucn a aiiaccepta- 
 world, the very first thing required of its guilty on e c J. e(I 
 inhabitants, is submission to the divine scheme of mercy. 
 25 
 
290 
 
 PECULIARITIES OP 
 
 The character of th ! race being that of sinfulness, and 
 its state that of guilt and condemnation, the peculiar 
 constitutionunder which it has been placed is a mediato- 
 rial administration of grace ; and in these circumstances, 
 the consequence is unavoidable, that there can be no ac- 
 ceptable obedience rendered to God, without the primary 
 requisite of an unconditional surrender of the mind and 
 heart to the principles and provisions of this divine con- 
 stitution. In this lies the grand distinction between the 
 moral system of the Bible, and the various theories of 
 the wise men of the world, by whom this constitution is 
 not recognized. On this point we dare not yield our 
 ground ; we dare not attempt a compromise. We could 
 not do so, without renouncing all that is peculiar in 
 -revelation. The gospel is " the power of God unto sal- 
 vation," as being the divinely adapted method by which 
 the guilty may be pardoned and reinstated in favor, with- 
 out any compromise of the glory of his righteousness : — 
 but it is more; it is " the power of God unto salvation," 
 as being also the divinely devised means for the purifica- 
 tion of the sinful, — for restoring the rational and immor- 
 tal nature of man from its moral and spiritual ruin, — 
 for re-enstamping upon it the lovely features of the divine 
 likeness, and bringing it anew under the sway of those 
 principles that ruled and blessed it while it " kept its first 
 estate." 
 
 If there be one end which God purposes to effect by 
 the mediation of his Son more sublimely excellent than 
 another, it is this, — the recovery of man's nature to its 
 pristine purity and love, and so to its original honor and 
 joy. Pardon is precious ; but, in a very important sense, 
 pardon is but a means to an end. It is itself, indeed, a 
 part, and a most essential and precious part, of salvation; 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 291 
 
 but is subservient to something still higher, even to sanc- 
 tification. God forgives sin ; but the end of the atone- 
 ment has not been fully answered when sin has been for- 
 given. God forgives sin, that, bj the grace displayed in 
 its free and full remission, the heart may be subdued and 
 won to himself; that it may be purified by the faith of the 
 testimony which reveals his mercy — "the word of re- 
 conciliation ; " that its enmity may be conquered, and gen- 
 erous, grateful, holy love implanted in its room. 
 
 It is evident, that if there be any one princi- The gospel 
 
 . , . . . , - ™ , , strikes at the 
 
 pie that constitutes, in the sight of God, the rootofaii 
 elementary essence of moral evil, or spiritual enmity of 
 degeneracy, to that principle must the remedial againirGod. 
 means, whatever they are, be adapted and applied. The 
 object of the gospel is not to reform merely, but to regen- 
 erate. It is not to produce a partial, or even extensive 
 alteration, in the doings and appearances of the outer 
 man; it is to effect a radical change in the ruling princi- 
 ples of the inner man. It is to give life to the dead ; it 
 is to create anew. The germinant principle of all moral 
 evil, we hesitate not to say, is alienation of heart from 
 God. Men may speculate without end on the principles 
 of morals ; but so long as they lose sight of this, as the 
 real character of fallen humanity, they are sadly astray 
 from truth. This enmity being the bitter fountain of all 
 the streams of evil, the grand object must be the rectifica- 
 tion of this fountain — the "healing" of this spring. 
 Till this is done, nothing is done ; when this is done, all 
 is done. This change on the inward principle and state 
 of the heart, in proportion as it is effected, will, of neces- 
 sity, rectify the entire constitution and character of the 
 man, as a moral agent. Now this is precisely what the 
 gospel professes to accomplish, and what, in hundreds of 
 
292 
 
 PECULIARITIES OP 
 
 thousands of instances, it has proved itself capable of 
 effecting. It aims at nothing less ; it can achieve nothing 
 more. That which ' ; slays this enmity," and reconciles 
 the heart to God in the exercise of a new and holy affec- 
 tion, does exactly what man requires, and what is, at the 
 same time, indispensable to any radical and permanent 
 change of character. In vain we lop boughs, while the 
 " root of bitterness " remains. In vain we attempt to 
 purify streams, while from the fountain-head are still issu- 
 ing the waters of pollution. 
 Kind of doc- If love to God is the principle to be wrought 
 
 trine neces- , . . 
 
 saryforsub- in the heart, it is clear that the doctrine which 
 
 duing enmi- . . .... 
 
 ty. is the appointed means of working it must con- 
 
 tain such a manifestation of God as is fitted to subdue 
 enmity, and to reconcile the alienated affections. It does 
 not follow 7 , however, that in all cases in which this dec- 
 trine is made known, the happy consequence must ensue. 
 The doctrine may be fitted, — eminently, nay even per- 
 fectly fitted, for its end ; and yet, instead of the end being 
 effected, the very opposite of it may be the unhappy re- 
 sult. The proper tendency of " the goodness of God " 
 is to lead the partakers of it " to repentance ; " but alas ! 
 how often, " after their hardness and impenitent heart," 
 do men " despise the riches of his goodness, and forbear- 
 ance, and long-suffering," and " treasure up to themselves 
 wrath against the clay of wrath ! " As moral means, 
 from their very nature, can never be compulsory, they 
 may be admirably adapted for effectuating certain moral 
 changes, while yet, in many instances, the only effect 
 resulting from their application is to manifest, by trial, the 
 force of the principles of resistance, the obstinacy of 
 high-minded pride, the determined self-will of corrupt 
 propensities. It is not by the law only, but by the gos- 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 293 
 
 pel too, that " sin takes occasion" to work in the perverse 
 spirit of man " all manner of lawless desire." 
 
 It is on the amiable character of the divine Ground of 
 Being, as it is manifested in the gospel, that the appeals in 
 apostolic appeals are founded, in those parts of obedience, 
 
 , . . . . , . . , ii'« , illustrated 
 
 their writings m which they apply divme truths and vindi- 
 to their practical ends, and stir up the believers 
 to alacrity and perseverance in duty. The text of this 
 discourse affords an exemplification of their general style 
 on such occasions : — "I beseech you, therefore, brethren, 
 by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies" (that 
 is, your persons) " a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto 
 God, which is your reasonable service." Under a beauti- 
 ful allusion to the sacrificial rites of the Jewish ceremo- 
 nial, which we cannot at present trace out in detail, either 
 in its points of parallelism or of contrast, the general du- 
 ty is here enjoined, of the unreserved consecration of our 
 whole persons, — of all our corporeal and mental powers, 
 — to the living, and active, and self-denying service of 
 the God of our salvation. And what is the motive by 
 which the duty is urged % "I beseech you by the mer- 
 cies of God." The mercies of God are the compassions 
 of his nature, as displayed towards sinners in the mission 
 and work of his Son, and in the bestowment, through 
 him, of all the precious blessings of redemption. To 
 those who "know the grace of God in truth," the appeal 
 cannot be addressed, without awakening in their bosoms 
 the emotions of conscious shame and of thrilling grati- 
 tude ; of shame, that these "mercies," thus wonderfully 
 displayed, should have been so unduly appreciated, so 
 lightly felt, so inadequately returned; — of gratitude, for 
 the discovery and experience of their exercise towards 
 creatures so unworthy, so much worse than unworthy, sq 
 *25 
 
294 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 deserving of his " indignation and wrath." The appeal 
 is the most persuasive that can be addressed to the re- 
 newed mind. It is not made to the mere selfish appre- 
 hension of coming vengeance, — a sentiment which may 
 generate a profusion of external observance, but can in- 
 spire no attachment of heart, no willing and holy subjec- 
 tion ; it is made to the generous and noble principle of 
 grateful filial affection, — the affection of a heart that has 
 experienced kindness, and that feels and returns it, — an 
 affection that is, at the same time, associated and blended 
 with a devout delight in the entire character of that 
 great and gracious Being, whom " the only-begotten Son, 
 who is in the bosom of the Father, hath declared." 
 
 To a right-hearted child, it is not the apprehension of 
 the rod, the mere dread of punishment, that most power- 
 fully restrains from disobedience : it is the thought of his 
 father's love, — of violating the obligation, so tenderly 
 felt, which that love imposes, — of engendering a senti- 
 ment of displeasure in a heart so kind, and of which the 
 affection is so highly prized, — of waking an emotion of 
 sorrow, of inflicting one pang of anguish, in a bosom so 
 tender and so fond. Thus it is with the renewed sinner 
 — the child of God. "The mercies of God," now his 
 heavenly Father, are his wonder and his joy. His love 
 is his chief delight. He could not live without it. It is 
 not the thought of God's punitive vengeance so much 
 that restrains him from evil ; it is the " remembrance of 
 his mercy," — the recollection of his love, — his free, dis- 
 interested, generous, holy, infinite, and everlasting love, — 
 the love manifested in the " unspeakable gift " of his Son. 
 When he is tempted to the indulgence of any prohibited 
 desire, the thought of that love lays under arrest the rebel 
 lust, and nails it to the cross. When his lips are opened 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 295 
 
 for the utterance, or his hand stretched forth for the per- 
 petration, of evil, the recollection of " the mercies of 
 God" startles and wakes to jealousy his spiritual sensibil- 
 ities, draws to his eye the tear of grief and ^hame, shuts 
 the lips, and stays the hand. Oh ! how little do they un- 
 derstand of the gospel, — of the revelation of the redeem- 
 ing love of God, — of the tidings of mercy to sinners 
 through a divine Mediator, — who impute to it a tenden- 
 cy to dissolve, or even to relax, the bonds of moral obliga- 
 tion. They speak in ignorance. They " understand 
 neither what they say, nor whereof thej^ affirm." They 
 discover equally little acquaintance with the nature of 
 the gospel, and with the constitution of the human mind. 
 As soon will filial love, engendered by parental tender- 
 ness, and associated with esteem of parental excellence, 
 show itself in indifference and contumely, in the studied 
 frustration of parental wishes, and the contumacious 
 spurning of the parental yoke. As soon will gratitude 
 to a benefactor instigate him who feels and cherishes it to 
 defamation, and outrage, and murder. 
 
 That the grace of the gospel may be misunderstood, and 
 perverted to the worst of purposes, to the establishment 
 of principles the most licentious, and the vindication of 
 courses the most abandoned, I am far from denying. 
 What is there that is beyond the reach of perversion by 
 " hearts deceitful above all things, and desperately wick- 
 ed?" The semblance and profession of filial love itself 
 may be assumed in hypocritical villany, for the nefarious 
 purposes of a cold-blooded selfishness. But who ever 
 thinks of alleging, because such a case is possible, or has 
 actually been exemplified, that this is the natural and ap- 
 propriate tendency of parental kindness, or that such is 
 the legitimate operation of the filial affection by which it 
 
296 
 
 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 is returned ? The exception is not the rule. The very 
 wonder and horror which the occurrence of such an ex- 
 ception inspires, most impressively evince, what, according 
 to the universal sentiments and feelings of mankind, are 
 the natural tendencies of parental kindness, and what the 
 expected indications of filial love. 
 
 What should be our emotions, were we, at any time, 
 to discover, that the man whom we had been regarding 
 as our bitter enemy, keeping aloof from him and treating 
 him as such, opposing his will, thwarting his purposes, 
 traducing his reputation, injuring his interests, wronging 
 and wounding him with an inventive ingenuity of mis- 
 chief, — that this man has all the while been acting 
 the part of our best friend. — that, while we were mis- 
 conceiving his principles and misconstruing his conduct, 
 he has been unwearied in the exercise of his kindness, 
 devising plans for our happiness, consulting and studying 
 our interests at the expense of his own, relinquishing 
 good and encountering evil for our sake? What a pang 
 of intolerable anguish would the discovery send through 
 our hearts! — what shame! — what self-loathing! — what 
 eagerness of solicitude to compensate for the past, and to 
 attest the sincerity of our psnitence by the unremitting 
 devotedness of self-denied activity in the service of him 
 whom we have wronged ! Similar in nature, though 
 heavier in pressure and keener in agony, are the feelings 
 of a sinner, when first, by the illumination of the Divine 
 Spirit, he discerns the true character of the Being against 
 whom he has all along been trespassing, — whom he has 
 regarded with the feelings only of jealousy and suspicion, 
 of distrust, and fear, and aversion, — as all sternness and 
 repulsiveness, — an implacable foe, with the frown of 
 wrath upon his brow, the threat of damnation on his 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 297 
 
 lips, -and the thunderbolt of vengeance in his hand; — 
 when, through the medium of the cross, he sees into the 
 heart of God, and discovers what an infinitude of love is 
 there; — when, instead of an incensed and ruthless ene- 
 my, he beholds the best and kindest of friends, whose 
 very nature is love, whose very del ght is in mercy, who 
 is " not willing that any should perish, but that all should 
 come to repentance." This is the discovery that melts 
 the heart to contrite sorrow. Holiness awes; justice 
 alarms; love subdues. Oh, the pangs that wring the 
 awakened sinner's soul, when he finds that he has all his 
 life long been sinning against infinite love ; that his hard 
 and jealous thoughts of the Most High have been as 
 false as they have been wicked, — the very opposite of 
 truth, the foul calumnies of the father of lies ! He " ab- 
 hors himself, and repents in dust and ashes." The heart 
 of stone becomes a heart of flesh; — and, " the mercies 
 of God," disclosed to his mind by the Holy Spirit, laying 
 him under obligations never felt before, he loathes sin as 
 hateful and dishonoring to the God of mercy, and as 
 having filled to the brim the cup of the Savior's agony. 
 On all the powers of his body and faculties of his soul ; 
 on all he is, and on all he has, with full heart and melt- 
 ing eye, he inscribes " Holiness unto the Lord ; " — and 
 from that time forward, the authority of God is his rule, 
 the grace of God his motive, the glory of God bis end, 
 and the blessing of God his portion. " Whether he lives, 
 he lives to the Lord ; and whether he dies, he dies to the 
 Lord ; living and dying, he is the Lord's." 
 
 It is thus that "faith worketh by love." When the 
 divine character, as revealed in the Gospel, becomes the 
 object of belief, it becomes at the same time the object of 
 affection. Holy love from God to man is what the Gos- 
 
298 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 pel reveals; holy love from man to God is what the 
 Gospel inspires. Faith begets love, and love obedience. 
 Love is the immediate impulse to action, the main-spring 
 of the moral machinery; — faith, or the "belief of the 
 truth," is what maintains its elasticity and force. Love 
 is the vital energy of the living frame: the truth, received 
 by faith, is the food by which that vital energy is kept in 
 active and efficient vigor. 
 Modifica- We have formerly seen, that the two great 
 
 tions arising . , <• * i ■ • i 
 
 from the dis- principles of the divine law, as given to men, 
 Se Gospel are, the love of God, and the love of our neigh- 
 cise of The °or ; and that there are the strongest grounds 
 princes of f° r believing, that these, substantially, are the 
 foveof God principles of morals throughout the tiniverse : 
 nef g hbo°r? r lnat m au " worlds, love to the Creator and love 
 God fl ° vet ° t0 fellow creatures constitute " the fulfilling of 
 the law." These two comprehensive princi- 
 ples, however, have been subjected to special modifica- 
 tions bj r the circumstances of peculiarity, in which, under 
 the gracious administration of God, the Gospel has 
 placed our fallen world. We conceive, that, throughout 
 the universe of intelligent being, there must exist a gen- 
 eral manifestation of Deity, in the purity and benevolence 
 of his character, — such a manifestation being obviously 
 indispensable, as the foundation either of the love of 
 complacence, or the love of gratitude. The former can- 
 not be felt towards an "unknown God;" nor the latter 
 towards a God of whose goodness there is no experience. 
 But of this manifestation there maybe various kinds and 
 various degrees. In no two worlds may it be precisely 
 alike ; and the diversity of the manifestation may give 
 rise, in every world, to its own modified variety of obliga- 
 tion, and to its own peculiarity of complacence and of 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 29£ 
 
 gratitude. To our world, according to the discoveries oi 
 the Gospel, the universal Ruler stands in a special rela- 
 tion, — a relation corresponding to our fallen condition 
 and character, of the highest grandeur and the deepest 
 interest, — the relation of the God of grace, the God 
 of salvation. The moral philosophy of the universe 
 (if I may be allowed so bold an expression) rests on the 
 manifestation to the universe, of the existence, and char- 
 acter, and will of the universal Governor ; — and in the 
 general principles of this philosophy, our own world is 
 comprehended. In the existence of God we have the 
 universal foundation of morals ; in the character of God, 
 the universal principles of morals; in the will of God, 
 the universal law of morals. 
 
 But just as, within the limits of our own world it- 
 self, while there are great general moral principles that 
 bind alike all the millions of its population, there are, at 
 the same time, peculiarities of obligation arising from an 
 endless variety of relations, both national and domestic ; 
 so, in the universe, while the countless myriads of its 
 intelligent, inhabitants may all, with a sublime simplicity, 
 be regarded as, in like manner, bound by the same princi- 
 ples, the principles of love to their Creator and love to 
 their fellow creatures; — yet in each of its unnumbered 
 worlds, there may subsist, from original constitution, or 
 from subsequent events, peculiarities of its own, by which 
 it is distinguished from all the rest. If, with respect to 
 others, this be supposition only, we know that, with re- 
 spect to our own, it is a fact. As an apostate province 
 of the universal empire, under an administration of me- 
 diatorial mercy, its condition and its obligations are alike 
 peculiar; — so that, were the moral philosophy of the 
 universe ever so correctly illustrated, the moral philosophy 
 
500 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 of our own world must be miserably defective and erro- 
 neous, if the wonderful specialities of its condition, and 
 of the divine relations to it in the mystery of redeeming 
 grace, are not rightly understood, and duly estimated. 
 As the God of salvation, the Father of all has given us, 
 in the mediatorial work of his Son, a manifestation of 
 his character, in its full perfection of attractive loveliness, 
 combining the unsullied purity of its holiness, and the 
 infinite generosity of its benevolence. Our love of moral 
 esteem, therefore, and our love of gratitude, ought, both 
 the one and the other, to bear proportion to this special 
 manifestation. Our complacence is not complacence in 
 God's general loveliness only, but in the special aspect of 
 that loveliness as it appears "in the face of Jesus Christ:" 
 our gratitude is not gratitude for those fruits alone of the 
 divine goodness which we share with all, but for the 
 special and appropriate blessings of his saving grace; — 
 it is the gratitude, not of creatures merely, debtors to 
 Providence, — but of redeemed sinners, debtors to mercy. 
 This is the gratitude that is specially due to God in our 
 apostate world; — without which, among those to whom 
 the tidings of his mercy come, no other gratitude, in 
 whatever terms professed, can be genuine or acceptable ; 
 the refusal or the acceptance of the proffered mercy 
 being the test of continued or relinquished alienation of 
 heart. 
 
 By the constitution of the scheme of redemption, it 
 may further be observed, there have been introduced mod- 
 ifications of the general principle of love to God, corre- 
 sponding to the parts which the persons in the ever blessed 
 Trinity are represented as respectively fulfilling in that 
 scheme. There is love to the Father, for " not sparing 
 his own Son ; " — there is love to the Son, for the grace 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 301 
 
 that induced him, " though he was rich, for our sakes to 
 become poor, that we through his poverty might be made 
 rich : " — and there is love to the Holy Spirit, as the gra- 
 cious Agent in the discovery to the mind, and application 
 to the heart, of the love of the Father and the grace of 
 the Son, — as the Regenerator of sinners, and the Purifier 
 and Comfortor and Preserver of believers. These dis- 
 tinctions belong essentially to the principles of Christian 
 Ethics. The affections, however, are not distinct, in any 
 such sense as to admit of one of them being in exercise 
 without the others. The Father cannot be loved without 
 the Son, nor the Son without the Father, nor the Father 
 and the Son without the Spirit. Neither are they affec- 
 tions that at all interfere with each other, so as that aug- 
 mented intensity in one must be accompanied with a 
 corresponding abatement in another. They are, on the 
 contrary, necessarily proportionals to each other; so that, 
 instead of one cooling as another warms, the temperature 
 of each is the temperature of all. The love of the Fa- 
 ther, the love of the Son, and the love of the Spirit, 
 towards us, are the united love of the one Godhead, 
 necessarily and eternally equal: — of this love, the scheme 
 of redemption is the joint result and manifestation; and 
 the love with which it is returned is a joint and equal 
 gratitude, the same in measure and in operation, 
 
 " To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
 The God whom we ad®re!" 
 
 Besides the peculiarities of obligation and ex- 2. of the 
 
 • i • 1 i • • ,ove of our 
 
 ercise, thus introduced by the special adminis- neighbor.— 
 
 tration under which our world is placed into which the 
 
 the first of the two great principles of the law, fSes us 
 
 the love of God: there are also peculiarities, view him 
 
 originating from the same cause, in reference to 
 
 26 
 
302 PECULIARITIES OF 
 
 the second, the love of our neighbor. The law which 
 enjoins us to "love our neighbor as ourselves," is certainly 
 to be interpreted as comprehending all the circumstances 
 in which our neighbors can be placed ; — but there is one 
 character, of paramount interest, in which the gospel 
 teaches us to regard mankind ; — I mean the character of 
 felloiv sinners, involved in the same guilt and ruin with 
 ourselves, and standing in need of the same salvation. It 
 is in this "low estate" that the eye of God has "looked 
 upon" our race, and that the ' mercy which endureth 
 forever" hath visited us. It is in this "low estate," there- 
 fore, that every believer of the gospel will most especially 
 regard his fellow men ; and it is to their delieverance 
 <rom it that he will direct, with the tenderest pity and 
 the most ardent zeal, the efiorts of his benevolence. He 
 will co-operate with the providence of God, in promoting, 
 by every means in his power, their temporal benefit; but 
 with special earnestness will he co-operate with the grace 
 of God in seeking their everlasting good. 
 
 Christian benevolence must, in this respect, be formed 
 upon the pattern of the divine. Divine benevolence has 
 expended its chief resources on mankind as sinners. 
 Their salvation has been the grand problem of infinite 
 wisdom, — the grand manifestation of infinite love. The 
 benevolence that negligently overlooks, or scornfully dis- 
 regards, this greatest of ends, is not of God. The mind 
 in which it lodges is no in unison with the divine. In 
 the heart that has received the gospel, the love to man, 
 which the law enjoins, will contemplate the guilt and 
 misery in which the gospel finds him, and seek, as its 
 first aim, to put him in possession of the pardon and the 
 blessedness which the gospel provides for him. The gos- 
 pel, as the interpreter of the law, will stimulate to all 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 303 
 
 possible efforts for the diffusion of its own saving truths; 
 and the grand field of Christian philanthropy will be 
 "the world lying in the w T icked one." Under its illu- 
 mination and influence, love to our neighbor, while far 
 from being indifferent to his temporal well-being, will 
 especially take into its account of duty the whole extent 
 of his immortal existence; the benevolence that confines 
 itself to the body and to time, while it overlooks the soul 
 and eternity, being infinitely more unreasonable than the 
 kindness which, with regard to the body, would busy it- 
 self, with all the promptitude and assiduity of concern, in 
 carefully binding up a wounded finger, while it left a vir- 
 ulent an 1 deadly distemper to prey upon the vitals with 
 unheeded, unmitigated, and fatal fury. 
 
 There is, moreover, a peculiar love, to the Special love 
 
 . to the house- 
 
 requisition of which no attentive reader of the hold of faith. 
 
 New Testament can be a stranger. It may be regarded 
 as a branch of the more general principle ; but, while it is 
 more limited in the range of its objects, it differs also, in 
 some respects, and that essentially, in its nature. It is 
 the love that unites the members of " the household of 
 faith," — the joint partakers of the regenerating grace of 
 the Spirit, — the "children of God by faith in Christ Je- 
 sus;" — it is the natural affection, if I may so express 
 myself, of the spiritual family of God. " He who loveth 
 him that begat, loveth them also that are begotten of him." 
 This is a very different principle from the benevolence, or 
 love of general good will, which comprehends all man- 
 kind. It is love for God's sake, whose children its ob- 
 jects are, and whose image they bear ; it is love for Christ's 
 sake, the divine author of their common salvation ; it is 
 love " for the truth's sake," the ground of their hopes, the 
 source of their joys, the bond of their union. It is love 
 
304 PECULIARITIES OF" 
 
 that includes the feeling of complacence as well as that 
 of good will. Of this description of love a great deal is 
 said in the New Testament: — and into not a few mis- 
 takes have interpreters fallen, — mistakes which have 
 thrown obscurity upon the meaning, and introduced con- 
 fusion and weakness into the reasoning, of the inspired 
 penmen, — from their not duly distinguishing between 
 this peculiar affection and the more enlarged principle of 
 general good will to men, — and from their explaining 
 passages of the latter that are evidently and exclusively 
 applicable to the former. It is perfectly true, that no man 
 can be a disciple of Christ without general benevolence, 
 -— tho benevolence that wishes and seeks the good of all : 
 but the love so often spoken of under the designation of 
 "the love of the brethren" is evidently, from its nature, 
 by much the surer, the more appropriate, and the more 
 distinctive test of discipleship. It is of this the Savior 
 himself speaks, when he says, — "A new commandment 
 give I unto you, that ye love one another ; even as I have 
 loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall 
 all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love 
 one to another," * It is to this too the Apostle John re- 
 fers, when he is distinguishing the children of God from 
 the children of the wicked one : — " We know that we 
 have passed from death unto life, because we love the 
 brethren: " — " let us not love in word, neither in tongue, 
 but in deed and in truth : and hereby we know that we 
 are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him."| 
 < — To interpret such passages of general benevolence, is 
 obviously to deprive them of more than half their point 
 and conclusiveness. Although there can be no properly 
 
 * John xiii. 34, 35. t 1 John iii. 14, 18, 19. 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 305 
 
 principled benevolence that is not founded in devotion, — 
 yet there is sometimes to be seen so much of the gifts and 
 the doings of philanthropy, — gifts and doings of no or- 
 dinary generosity and self-denial, — where there is no 
 vestige of this sacred principle, — that general benevo- 
 lence cannot, in the nature of things, be so distinctive a 
 criterion of true discipleship as the peculiar love which 
 has for its objects the brethren of Christ, the children of 
 God, and that "delights" in them as "the excellent of 
 the earth." — It is of the same special love that Jesus 
 speaks in describing those works by which, as the Su- 
 preme Judge, he will distinguish his own people, — the 
 " blessed of his Father," — in the great day. The works 
 specified by him are not works of general benevolence, 
 and ought not to be confounded with them : — they are 
 works of which he says, " Inasmuch as ye have done it 
 unto one of the least of these my brethren" — (pointing to 
 the redeemed multitude on his right hand,) "ye did it 
 unto me" They are works, then, done from love to his 
 people, and consequently from love to himself; — and this 
 love implies and presupposes the knowledge and the faith 
 of that testimony in which his character and his grace 
 are revealed to men. 
 
 The design of this series of Lectures has been Conclusion, 
 to illustrate and establish general principles. To 
 enter into the minuter details of Christian morals, and to 
 discuss the question of casuistry to which, either ia 
 themselves or in the terms in which they are conveyed, 
 the preceptive injunctions of the Christian Record have 
 given rise, has not been within the range of subject con- 
 templated by me at the outset. At this, some may be 
 disappointed. I cannot help it. I was satisfied that the 
 field of general principles was of quite sufficient extent 
 # 26 
 
306 PECULIARITIES OP 
 
 for the prescribed series ; — and it was errors, as they 
 seemed to me, in general principles, that I was most anx- 
 ious to point out, and to correct. With what success this 
 has been done, others must determine. Neither has it 
 formed part of my plan, to consider the important ques- 
 tion of the identity of Old and New Testament morality : 
 between which, in my apprehension, there has often 
 been conceived to exist a much wider difference than 
 either any reasonable principle could have led us to antici- 
 pate, or Scripture, fairly interpreted, warrants us to believe. 
 Great injustice, as it appears to me, has, in this particular, 
 been done to the Old Testament Scriptures. But it is a 
 subject, however important and interesting, of too large 
 extent, and involving too many points of " doubtful dispu- 
 tation," to admit of my so much as touching it. 
 
 I must hasten to a conclusion, resisting the temptation 
 to linger on these and other topics. There is a perfect 
 harmony between the law and the gospel. The latter, 
 instead of " making void" the former, establishes it ; as- 
 suming, proving, and illustrating, its immaculate and im- 
 mutable perfection. It was the transgression of the law 
 that rendered the provisions of the gospel necessary for 
 the recovery of the transgressor, — his recovery to the 
 forfeited favor and the lost image of his God. And what 
 are those provisions 1 They are such as " magnify the 
 law and make it honorable." The righteousness of Jesus 
 fulfills its demands, and his atonement exhausts its sanc- 
 tion ; so that both its demands and its sanction are re- 
 cognized as divine. And, while the law is thus honored, 
 maintained in all the fullness of its authority, — in the 
 ground of the sinner's justification; it is not less honored 
 in the spiritual change which, by the gospel instrumen- 
 tally, and by the Spirit of God efficiently, is produced in 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 307 
 
 the sinner's character. For in what does this change 
 consist 1 Is it not in his having " the law written in his 
 heart, and put in his inward parts?" What is there 
 higher or better which the gospel can effect for man, 
 than bringing back his sinful nature to spiritual conform- 
 ity with the great principles of the law ? By effecting 
 this, it restores him at once to the purity, the glory, and the 
 felicity of his original nature. 
 
 The gospel is the divine method for man's recovery ; — 
 and, whatever the wise men of this world, in the pleni- 
 tude of their philosophical loftiness, may think or say 
 respecting it, it has been found hitherto, and it will be 
 found henceforward, that " the foolishness of God is wiser 
 than men, and the weakness of God stronger than men." 
 11 After that, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom 
 knew not God, it pleased God, by the preaching of fool- 
 ishness to save them that believe." In the moral revolu- 
 tions which it effected on characters of all descriptions, 
 the gospel proved itself, before the very eyes of men, to 
 be " the power of God unto salvation." The salvation 
 wrought by it was not a thing secret and future; — it 
 was present and visible. The preachers of the cross 
 could point to the many trophies of its power; and, 
 enumerating all the varieties of unrighteous, impure, and 
 profligate character, could say — " Such were some of 
 you ; but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are 
 justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit 
 of our God." " Ye were the servants of sin ; but ye have 
 from the heart obeyed that new Master to whom ye were 
 delivered over : " — "ye were once darkness, but now are 
 ye light in the Lord : walk as children of light." 
 
 And the "foolishness" of the cross is still the destined 
 means by which the progressive regeneration of the world 
 
308 PECULIARITIES OP 
 
 is to be effected. What has philosophy done ? Where 
 are her triumphs? Where her trophies? Where the 
 hearts she has renewed? Where the characters that 
 have experienced her converting and transforming power? 
 Where are the tribes which she has " turned from dark- 
 ness unto light, and from the power of Satan unto God ? " 
 Her conquests are all prospective ; her triumphs all pro- 
 missory ; her vauntings all of what is yet to be done. 
 To no one thing more appropriately and emphatically 
 than to the boastings of human philosophy, is the poet's 
 lines applicable — 
 
 " Man never is, but always to be blest." 
 
 But the gospel can point to the past as well as to the 
 future. It has done much: — and it is not to its shame, 
 but to the shame of its professed believers, that its achieve- 
 ments have as yet been so limited. Had Christians felt 
 as they ought their obligations to the God of grace, they 
 would have done more, and given more, and prayed 
 more : — yes, much more : — and " the word of the 
 Lord would have run," faster and further, and have been 
 more abundantly " glorified." Even as it is, — wherever 
 the gospel makes its way, — wherever the word of the 
 Lord takes effect, it shows itself, as it did of old, to be still 
 " the power of God unto salvation." It can still point 
 everywhere to the subjects of its subduing and regener- 
 ating influence. It can point to hearts of which the 
 enmity has been slain, and which have been devoted, in 
 holy consecration, to God, — " hearts of stone " that have 
 become " hearts of flesh ; V it can point to the licentious, 
 whose vileness has been purified; to the cruel, whose 
 ferocity has been tamed ; — to blasphemers, that have 
 learned to pray ; to drunkards, noted for sobriety j to liars, 
 
CHRISTIAN OBLIGATION AND DUTY. 309 
 
 that are men of truth, and thieves, that " restore fourfold ;" 
 to the proud, humbled to the " meekness and gentleness 
 of Christ : " to oppressors, that have laid aside their " rod 
 of iron," and "broken every yoke ; " to extortioners, that 
 have ceased to "grind the faces of the poor," and are 
 distinguished for justice and generosity; — to sinners of 
 every description and of every grade, that have relin- 
 quished the ways of evil, and are " living soberly, right- 
 eously, and godly." In the heathen world, idolatry, with 
 all its attendant fooleries, impurities, atrocities, and bac- 
 chanalian revelries, gives way before it ; and " the gods 
 that he Tro not made the heavens and the earth perish from 
 off the earth and from under those heavens:" — and 
 " Jehovah, the true God, the living God, and the everlast- 
 ing King," is reinstated in the honor and the worship 
 which are his exclusive due — "One God, and his Name 
 One." The reception of the divine mercy is accompanied 
 with willing subjection to the divine authority. The 
 gospel and the law go hand in hand; ci. When the convic- 
 tions of the law have induced the acceptance of the gospel, 
 the grace of the gospel endears the precepts of the law, 
 which are then regarded, not merely as the commands of 
 authority, but as the requirements of love, the intimations 
 of the will of the God of mercy. As the reign of 
 Christ extends, the law of love prevails, — of love to 
 God, and love to men ; and " righteousness, and peace, 
 and joy in the Holy Ghost " are the blessed results. It 
 is by the progressive extension of the saving power of the 
 gospel, and the widening prevalence of the principles of 
 the Redeemer's reign, among men of " every kindred and 
 tongue and people and nation," — that those " scenes 
 euch as earth saw never," — those scenes of millennial 
 glory which the prophetic word foretells, are to be realized 
 
310 Peculiarities of, &c. 
 
 in this our apostate world. And when those scenes shall 
 have lasted their predicted time, — "then cometh the 
 end," when the mediatorial kingdom of our Lord and 
 Savior Jesus Christ, a temporary branch of the great 
 general administration of the divine government, having 
 answered all the glorious and happy ends of its institu- 
 tions, shall be " delivered up to God, even the Father," — 
 resigned by Him who has swaj^ed with perfect and illus- 
 trious success the sceptre of his delegated reign, — " that 
 the Godhead may be all in all ! " Then, in heaven, shall 
 be summed up forever the grand moral purposes of the 
 plan of mercy. When, at the resurrection of the just, 
 " this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this 
 mortal shall have put on immortality, and death shall 
 have been swallowed up in victory," the multitude of the 
 " redeemed from among men " shall enter on the full frui- 
 tion of the purity and the joy of eternity. The character 
 of Deity, as " Light " and "Love," shall be gloriously 
 apparent in the holy and happy result. Those eternal 
 principles of rectitude, which subsisted in the nature of 
 the divine Being before creation commenced, which were 
 the features of the image in which man was formed, and 
 of which the violation and abandonment were his dis- 
 honor and his ruin, shall be restored to their paramount 
 authority and legitimate operation. The light and love 
 of the Godhead shall find a mirror in every bosom: — 
 and in the perfection of knowledge, and purity, and benev- 
 olence, and joy, the blessed inhabitants shall realize what 
 their faith had believed, their hope had anticipated, and 
 their imagination had tried to picture, but what, in expe- 
 rience, will be found to transcend, by infinite degrees, their 
 loftiest and most enlarged conception?, — the happiness 
 
 Of A SINLESS WORLD ! 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NOTE A. Page 19. 
 
 On the subject of the piety of men of science, the Rev. Mr. 
 Whewell, in his Bridgewater Treatise, a most interesting and valua- 
 ble work, writes as follows: — "The opinion illustrated in the last 
 chapter, that the advances which men make in science tend to im- 
 press upon them the reality of the divine government of the world, 
 has often been controverted. Complaints have been made, and es- 
 pecially of late years, that the growth of piety has not always been 
 commensurate with the growth of knowledge in the minds of those 
 who make nature their study. Views of an irreligious character 
 have been entertained, it is sometimes said, by persons eminently well 
 instructed in all the discoveries of modern times, no less than by the 
 superficial and ignorant. Those who have been supposed to deny, 
 or to doubt the existence, the providence, the attributes of God, 
 have in many cases been men of considerable eminence and celeb- 
 rity for their attainments in science. The opinion that this is the 
 case appears to be extensively diffused ; and this persuasion has 
 probably often produced inquietude and grief in the breasts of pious 
 and benevolent men. 
 
 " This opinion, concerning the want of religious convictions 
 among those who have made natural philosophy their leading pur- 
 suit, has probably gone far beyond the limits of the real fact. But, 
 if we allow that there are any strong cases to countenance such an 
 opinion, it may be worth our while to consider how far they admit 
 of any satisfactory explanation. The fact appears at first sight to be 
 at variance with the view we have given of the impression produced 
 
312 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 by scientific discovery; and it is moreover always a matter of unea- 
 siness and regret, to have men of eminent talents and knowledge 
 opposed to doctrines which we consider as important truths. 
 
 " We conceive that an explanation of such cases, if they should 
 occur, may be found in a very curious and important circumstance 
 belonging to the process by which our physical sciences are formed. 
 The first discovery of new general truths, and the development of 
 these truths when once obtained, are two operations extremely dif- 
 ferent — imply different mental habits, and may easily be associated 
 with different views and convictions on points out of the reach of 
 scientific demonstration. There would, therefore, be nothing sur- 
 prising or inconsistent with what we have maintained above, if it 
 should appear, that while original discoverers of laws of nature are 
 peculiarly led to believe the existence of a supreme intelligence and 
 purpose; the far greater number of cultivators of science, whose 
 employment it is to learn from others these general laws, and to 
 trace, combine, and apply their consequences, should have no clear- 
 ness of conviction or security from error on this subject, beyond 
 what belongs to persons of any other class." — Astronomy and 
 General Physics considered with reference to Natural The- 
 ology, pp. 323 — 325. 
 
 The subject of the difference in the amount of impression made 
 by the discovery of general laws, and by their mere subsequent 
 application by processes of deduction, is discussed with much in- 
 genuity, and, it may be admitted, so far at least as abstract tendency 
 is concerned, with reason and truth. — The legitimate tendency in- 
 deed of scientific knowledge cannot be questioned, any more than 
 the legitimate tendency of the general observation of nature. If 
 there are in nature the manifestations of the existence, and of the 
 wisdom, power, and goodness of the Creator, the tendency of such 
 observation must be to produce the belief of his being and perfec- 
 tions, and the sentiments and affections towards him which are ap- 
 propriate to his character. It is the existence, the abundance, and 
 the tendency of the evidence, that renders men "without excuse," 
 when they fail of right discernment of faith, and fear, and love, 
 and adoration, and service. 
 
 Now, if, the more closely nature is investigated, and the more 
 intimately her operations are known, the more clearly and convinc- 
 ingly do the proofs of a divine original come forth; then must the ten- 
 dency of scientific knowledge to the production of faith and piety, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 3io 
 
 be proportionally stronger than the general and superficial observa- 
 tion of nature; — and, as a necessary consequence, in every case in 
 which these are not the result, the inexcusableness must be the great- 
 er. While such is the proper tendency of knowledge, there must 
 be some sadly counteracting tendencies in human nature, by which 
 its legitimate effects are prevented, when in any instance they do not 
 appear. When Mr. Whewell speaks of the manifold " perversions " 
 of the universal "belief of a supernatural and presiding power," as 
 being " manifestly the work of caprice and illusion, and vanishing 
 at the first ray of sober inquiry," (page 294,) he appears to indicate 
 a more fovorable estimate of human nature than the Apostle Paul 
 had, when, assigning the cause of the departure of mankind from 
 the original and right conceptions of Deity, he says, "They did not 
 like to retain God in their knowledge." When he adds, "Those 
 who have traced the progress of human thought on other subjects, 
 will not think it strange, that, while the fundamental persuasion of a 
 Deity was thus irremovably seated in the human mind, the develop- 
 ment of this conception into a consistent, pure, and steadfast belief 
 in one Almighty and Holy Father and God, should be long missed, 
 or never attained, by the struggle- of the human faculties; should re- 
 quire long reflection to mature it, and "the aid of revelation to es- 
 tablish it in the world," — I hardly know what to think. I am 
 quite at a loss to reconcile such representations with the obvious dic- 
 tates of revealed truth. There seems to be assumed on original 
 ignorance of the unity and attributes of the true God ; — a tendency 
 in the human mind, from this ignorance, or mere "general persua- 
 sion of a Deity," towards clearer, fuller, purer, and more exalted 
 conceptions of his nature and character; — such a difficulty in the 
 discovery as to render it no matter of surprise, though it should 
 be "long missed, or even never attained;" — and the ascription of 
 the discovery to human reason, and of the maturing of it to " long 
 reflection," while all that was required of revelation was its " aid to 
 establish it in the world. ' ' 
 
 It seems to me, that in the Scriptures the very reverse of all these 
 positions is maintained; — that the right knowledge of God was 
 originally possessed; — that the tendency of human nature, on such 
 subjects, as evinced by an experiment of thousands of years, has 
 ever been, not from wrong to right, but from right to wrong, — not 
 from ignorance to knowledge, but from knowledge to ignorance; — 
 the first knowledge having been universally lost, and there being no 
 
 27 
 
314 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 instance of any "struggle of the human faculties " having ever re- 
 stored it, independently of revelation, or of foreign interference on 
 the part of those who enjoyed its light; — and that, at the same 
 time, such is the simplicity and the clearness of the lesson taught by 
 nature of "eternal power and Godhead," as to render men univer- 
 sally "without excuse," in not having retained it at first, or learned 
 it afterwards. It is a grievous mistake to regard idolatry as if it 
 were only the infancy of true religion, the result of the first efforts 
 of the human mind towards the attainment of true knowledge, the 
 religious principle in its rudimental state, the embryo or germ of a 
 better system. This is precisely the reverse of the fact. Instead 
 of the infancy of true religion, idolatry is its wretched and dotard 
 degeneracy; — instead of the first feeling of the human mind after 
 truth, it is the worthless product of its insensate proneness to error; 
 — instead of the right plant in its germinant weakness, it is the 
 mass of putridity left by its decay. 
 
 Instead of a " progress in human thought" on such subjects, from 
 darkness to light, the application to them of human wisdom has in- 
 variably produced an exemplification of the Apostle's words, — 
 "Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools." The phi- 
 losophers of this world, while they have partaken in those tendencies 
 to forget God, which are common to the whole race, — to "say 
 unto the Almighty, Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge 
 of thy ways," — are the subjects at the same time of other tenden- 
 cies which are peculiar to themselves; — I refer to all that may be 
 comprehended in the pride of science, — the high-mindedness of 
 unsanctified intellect; the strength of which not a few have testified, 
 who have themselves known it in their experience, and have after- 
 wards become the subjects of the humbling grace of God. It is in 
 consequence of this pride, that "the things of God" are so often 
 "hid from the wise and prudent, and revealed unto babes." And 
 if these things be so, while we admit that the legitimate tendency of 
 discovery in the works of God is to impress the conviction of his 
 being and perfections, more strongly than its subsequent application 
 to known phenomena, — yet, as there is, in such discovery, in pro- 
 portion to its rarity, something more elating to the mind of its for- 
 tunate author, giving distinction to his name, investing him with 
 the great iclat of genius, with the brighter halo of scientific celeb- 
 rity, — it may admit of question whether this moral tendency may 
 not go far to counteract the salutary influence of the other. All 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 315 
 
 true religion must be founded in humility; and whatever fosters 
 pride, destroys piety. 
 
 Even, indeed, if the peculiar tendency of discovery in science 
 were admitted to its full extent, and were free from any such coun- 
 teraction of a moral kind, we might remark how much smaller the 
 number of discoverers must ever be, than the number of those who 
 only apply the principles and laws discovered to known phenomena; 
 how many fewer there must ever be of original geniuses, than of 
 inferior, though respectable and even eminent, speculators on the 
 results of their genius; and that, therefore, even on Mr. Whe well's 
 own principle, the number of men of science distinguished for piety 
 might be expected to be proportionally small. But after all, every- 
 thing, in such a question, depends upon what is meant by piety: and 
 on this subject I must simply refer to what is said in the text, (pp. 
 18 — 20.) All will concur in the regret, that " a coalition so natural 
 and seemly as that of science and piety, should ever be wanting." 
 In Mr. Whewell's enumeration of examples of the coalition, there 
 are certainly some, whose piety must be regarded, if we take the 
 divine word for its standard, as of a very vague and questionable 
 kind. But it would be alike invidious and presumptuous to enter 
 into the discussion of personal character. 
 
 NOTE B. Page 36. 
 
 On the subject of these strictures, I have much pleasure in intro- 
 ducing the following sentiments of Dr. Chalmers, from a work pub- 
 lished after the composition and delivery of this Lecture — The 
 Bridge water Treatise: 
 
 " The great error of our academic theism, as commonly treated, 
 is, that it expresses no want; that it reposes on its own fancied suf- 
 ficiency; and that all its landing-places are within itself, and along 
 the uttermost limits of its own territory. It is no reproach against 
 our philosophical moralists, that they have not stepped beyond the 
 threshold of that peculium, which is strictly and appropriately theirs; 
 or not made incursion into another department than their own. The 
 legitimate complaint is, that on taking leave of their disciples, they 
 
316 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 warn them not of their being only yet in the outset or in the prose- 
 cution of a journey, instead of having reached the termination of 
 it. They, in fact, take leave of them in the middle of an unpro- 
 tected highway, when they should have raised a finger-post of di- 
 rection to the places that lie beyond. The paragraph which we 
 have now extracted* was just such a finger-post, though taken down, 
 we deeply regret to say, by the very hand that had erected it. Our 
 veneration for his name must not restrain the observation, that by 
 this he undid the very best service which a professor of moral sci- 
 ence can render to humanity. Along the confines of its domain, 
 there should be raised, in every quarter, the floating signals of dis- 
 tress, that its scholars, instead of being lulled into the imagination 
 that now they may repose as in so many secure and splendid dwell- 
 ing places, should be taught to regard them only as towers of obser- 
 vation, whence they have to look for their ulterior guidance and their 
 ulterior supplies, to the region of a conterminous theology." 
 
 After presenting in another paragraph, briefly but beautifully, the 
 simple philosophy of the atonement, as exhibited in the New Testa- 
 ment, and as meeting one of the chief difficulties in " the theism of 
 nature," the Doctor thus proceeds: 
 
 "This specimen will best illustrate of moral philosophy, even in 
 its most finished state, that it is not what may be called a termin- 
 ating science. It is at best but a science in transitu; and its les- 
 sons are those of a preparatory school. It contains but the rudi- 
 ments of a nobler acquirement; and he discharges best the functions 
 of a teacher, not who satiates but who excites the appetite, and 
 then leaves it wholly unappeased. This arises from the real state 
 and bearing of the science, as being a science, not so much of doc- 
 trines as of desiderata. At most it leaves its scholars in a sort of 
 twilight obscurity; and if a just account is rendered of the subject, 
 there will unavoidably be the feeling, that, instead of having reached 
 a secure landing-place, we have broken off" as in the middle of an 
 unfinished demonstration. " — Vol. II. pp. 298 — 301. 
 
 * The reference is to a paragraph which appeared in the first edition of Smith's 
 Theory of Moral Sentiments, but in subsequent editions was omitted, on the 
 subject of conscious guilt, and the natural suggestions of the human mind and 
 corresponding discoveries of revelation, as to atonement. The paragraph is one 
 of deep interest, though, as might have been expected, defective in its theology. 
 It is given also by the late Archbishop Magee, in his Discourses and Dissertations 
 on Atonement and Sacrifice. Vol. 1. pp. 209 — 211. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 317 
 
 Many of the views in the chapter from which these extracts are 
 made, "On the Defects and Uses of Natural Theology," are ex- 
 ceedingly important. It were well if the lessons of moral philoso- 
 phy were taught in the manner described and recommended, not as 
 final, but only as introductory and preparatory. Still, however, it 
 ought to be recollected, that there is a large proportion of students 
 who attend the Moral Philosophy class, who do not subsequently 
 pass into the province of a "conterminous theology;" so that, even 
 were the subjects so treated, there would necessarily, to such 
 youths, be a very grievous defect; a defect which, by leaving their 
 minds under the influence of partial impressions of truth, might be 
 attended with not a few of the consequences of error. The manner 
 in which the subjects usually are treated in the " prelections of aca- 
 demic theism" is, by strong implication, admitted to be, in its ten- 
 dency, injurious even to those who do take the further step of 
 advancement — passing over the boundary between the theism of 
 the Ethical Class-room and the Christianity of the Divinity Hall ; 
 and instances in verification of this are not wanting, to the lamenta- 
 ble paganizing of pulpit instruction, by denuding Christianity of the 
 uncompromising peculiarity of its most essential articles, or by the 
 accommodation of them to cold philosophic theories. I confess 
 myself strongly inclined to the opinion, that if morals are not 
 taken up distinctly upon the principles of revelation, they had better, 
 as subjects of protection to the young, be let alone altogether. 
 Both natural religion and morality belong properly to the province of 
 theology. And not only (as in a subsequent part of this series of 
 Lectures I have endeavored to show) can there be no true morality 
 without religion ; but the teaching of moral virtues to sinful crea- 
 tures, on grounds independent of the mercy revealed by the gospel, 
 is an inlet to the most anti-scriptural and soul -ruining delusions. I 
 cannot take lower ground than this, without renouncing my Bible; 
 whose decisions, with regard to the means of acceptance with God, 
 I must regard as the only philosophy, because the only truth. 
 
 '27 
 
318 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NOTE C. Page 38. 
 
 Mr. Douglas, of Cavers, in his volume entitled "Errors in Re- 
 ligion," has the following spirited remarks on the early influence of 
 philosophy, in adulterating the purity and obnubilating the simiplicity 
 of the Christian doctrine: 
 
 " Independent of any direct heresies, erroneous methods of con- 
 sidering Christianity became prevalent, from the indiscriminate study 
 and admiration of Gentile philosophy. Each of the Christian Fa- 
 thers, who affected a reputation for literature, naturally adopted the 
 favorite opinions of some philosophic school; and thus every specu- 
 lative sect came to mingle their own peculiar errors in that incohe- 
 rent and discordant mass of opinions which formed the Christian 
 literature of antiquity. Few attempts have had less foundation to 
 proceed upon than the endeavor to make the Christian Fathers pass 
 for the supreme judges of controversy and the oracles of religion. 
 Nothing can be more vague than their conclusions, nor more weak 
 than their arguments, nor more variable than the tendency of their 
 writings. They might, notwithstanding the weakness of their judg- 
 ment, have been valuable, as furnishing facts; but in these they are 
 lamentably deficient, and hence the meagreness of church history. 
 When appealed to as authorities, they lend themselves by turns to 
 every side; when resorted to for information, they furnish little but 
 conjectures. It is well, however, that Christianity should have 
 small obligation to its early advocates, and that religion should rest 
 upon the power of God, and not upon the authority of men. It is 
 well also, that a great gulf should be placed between the inspired 
 and the uninspired Christian writers. 
 
 " Many of the Fathers, as they are called, were but recent con- 
 verts from paganism, who were better acquainted with the supersti- 
 tion they had left than with the revelation they had embraced. 
 Many were more attentive to the study of philosophy than to the 
 search of scriptural truth. The caution of St. Paul was lost upon 
 them, to beware of 'science, falsely so called.' The emanative 
 system, with all its errors, spread far and wide, under the authority 
 of Origen, and with the aid of his allegorial interpretations. In the 
 hands of the master of Origen, Ammonius, and his fellow-disciple 
 Plotinus, the absurdities of Paganism, by the supposition of an inner 
 sense contained in them, had been made to coincide with the dreams 
 
NOTES AND 1LLUST11ATI0NS. 319 
 
 of philosophy. The truths of Christianity were now to be explained 
 away by the same subtle process." And, after a rapid enumer- 
 ation of some of the results of this and various other sources of 
 corruption, he adds: — "To sum up all, Aristotle, after stoutly de- 
 fending Paganism, at last lent the Christians his vexatious logic, to 
 exasperate the multitude of their disputes, and to split and subdivide 
 every error to infinity." — Pp. 55 — 57. 
 
 This leads us at once to the schoolmen, of whom and of whose 
 labors the reader may take the following brief but forcible sketch 
 from the hand of a master: 
 
 "Surely, like as many substances in nature, which are solid, do 
 putrefy and corrupt into worms, so is it the property of good and 
 sound knowledge to putrefy and dissolve into a number of subtle, 
 idle, unwholesome, and, as I may term them, vermiculate questions, 
 which have indeed a kind of quickness, and life of spirit, but no 
 soundness of matter, or goodness of quality! This kind of degen- 
 erate learning did chiefly reign among the schoolmen, who, having 
 sharp and strong wits, and abundance of leisure, and small variety 
 of reading; but their wits being shut up in the cells of a few authors, 
 chiefly Aristotle, their dictator, as their persons were shut up in the 
 cells of monasteries and colleges; and knowing little history, either 
 of nature or of time, did, out of no great quantity of matter, and 
 infinite agitation of wit, spin out unto us those laborious webs of 
 learning, which are extant in their books. For the wit and mind of 
 man, if it work upon matter, which is the contemplation of the 
 creatures of God, worketh according to the stuff, and is limited 
 thereby; but if it work upon itself, as the spider worketh his web, 
 then it is endless, and brings forth indeed cobwebs of learning, ad- 
 mirable for the fineness of thread and work, but of no substance 
 or profit." — Lord Bacon — Proficiency and Advancement of 
 Learning. 
 
 " The schoolmen's waste of ingenuity and frivolous subtlety of 
 disputation," says Archbishop Whately, "need not be enlarged 
 upon. It may be sufficient to observe, that their fault did not lie in 
 their diligent study of logic, and the high value they set upon it, but 
 on their utterly mistaking the true nature and object of the science ; 
 and by the attempt to employ it for purposes of physical investiga- 
 tion, involving everything in a mist of words, to the exclusion of 
 sound philosophical investigation. Their errors may serve to ac- 
 count for the strong terms in which Bacon sometimes appears to cen- 
 
320 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATION^. 
 
 sure logical pursuits; but that this censure was intended to bear 
 against the extravagant perversions, not the legitimate cultivation of 
 the science, maybe proved from his own observation on the subject, 
 in his Advancement of Learning.'''' — Elements of Logic, In- 
 trod. pp. 8, 9. 
 
 "The schoolmen," says Sir James Mackintosh, "were properly 
 theologians, who employed philosophy only to define and support 
 that system of Christian belief which they and their contemporaries 
 had embraced. The scholastic system was a collection of dialecti- 
 cal subtleties, contrived for the support of the corrupted Christianity 
 of that age, by a succession of divines, whose extraordinary powers 
 of distinction and reasoning were morbidly enlarged in the long 
 meditation of the cloister, by the exclusion of every other pursuit, 
 and the consequent palsy of every other faculty; who were cut off 
 from all the materials on which the mind can operate, and doomed 
 forever to toil in defence of what they must never examine; to 
 whom their age and their condition denied the means of acquiring 
 literature, of observing nature, or of studying mankind." Of the 
 middle age, however, of which, as the age of darkness, we are 
 wont to speak with a mixed emotion- of wonder, and scorn, and 
 pity, he says, "It is not unworthy of notice, on account of the sub- 
 terranean current which flows through it, from the speculations of 
 ancient to those of modern times. That dark stream must be un- 
 covered before the history of the European understanding can be 
 thoroughly comprehended. It was lawful for the emancipators of rea- 
 son, in their first struggles, to carry on deadly war against the school- 
 men. The necessity has long ceased, they are no longer dangerous; 
 and it is now felt by philosophers, that it is time to explore and esti- 
 mate that vast portion of the history of philosophy, from which we 
 have scornfully turned our eyes." — Prelim. Dissert, sect. 3. 
 
 NOTE D. Page 69. 
 
 I have classed these three eminent writers together, and have 
 given a very succinct statement of the general principles of their 
 system. In terms of singular modesty, such as may well make the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 321 
 
 psesent writer fearful of the charge of presumption, Sir James Mack- 
 intosh thus states what appeared to him a difference of consid- 
 erable magnitude, between the system of Cudworth and that of 
 Clarke: 
 
 " As far as it is not presumptuous to attempt a distinction between 
 modes of thinking foreign to the mind which makes the attempt, 
 and modes of expression scarcely translatable into the only technical 
 language in which that mind is wont to think, it seems that the sys- 
 tems of Cudworth and Clarke, though they appear very similar, are 
 in reality different in some important points of view. The former, a 
 Platonist, sets out from those ideas, (a word, in this acceptation of 
 it, which has no cosresponding term in English,) the eternal models 
 of created things, which, as the Athenian master taught, pre-existed 
 in the everlasting intellect, and, of right, rule the will of every infe- 
 rior mind. The illustrious scholar of Newton, with a manner of 
 thinking more natural to his age and school, considered primarily 
 the very relations of things themselves; conceived, indeed, by the 
 Eternal Mind, but which, if such inadequate language may be par- 
 doned, are the law of its will, as well as the model of its works." 
 — Prelim. Diss. p. 332. 
 
 The distinction thus expressed is one, it will readily be admitted, 
 rather too abstruse to be very readily, or very clearly apprehended; 
 nor is it easy to think about it without the mind getting bewildered, 
 or consequently to write about it in terms that shall convey concep- 
 tions sufficiently distinct. I would ask, however, with all diffidence, 
 If these "ideas," as the "eternal models of created things," 
 "pre-existed in the Everlasting Intellect," must they not have been 
 the rules of the Divine Will, when that will afterwards gave actual 
 being to those things of which they were the archetypal models ? 
 A model is a pattern or rule of procedure. If, in making the dis- 
 tinction, a " law of the Divine Will " is intended to mean something 
 authoritative, by which the Divine Will was obliged or bound; it 
 is evident, that there could be no authority extraneous to Deity, and 
 no principles of rectitude but such as had their subsistence in the 
 Divine Mind; so that a "law of the Divine Will" could not, by 
 possibility, have any other meaning than the necessity of a con- 
 formity between these principles and every divine volition. But 
 whether we speak of ideal models, or of laws of the Divine Will, 
 this necessity is obviously the same: there is the same necessary 
 
322 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 conformity between the one or the other and those efficient volitions 
 of Deity by which actual existence is imparted. 
 
 I cannot help thinking, indeed, that there is in all this a confound- 
 ing of things that differ. Clarke, according to Sir James, begins 
 with, or primarily considers, the relations of things themselves, 
 while Cudworth sets out from the pre-existent models of created 
 things. Now I can understand the antithesis between the model of 
 a created thing and the created thing itself, — or (if the language 
 were admissible) between the model of a relation and the relation 
 itself; but the antithesis between the "models of created things" 
 and the " relations of things themselves," I am at a loss to compre- 
 hend. It is not in existences, but in the relations subsisting between 
 them, that those fitnesses can possibly have place, in conformity to 
 which the theory of both Cudworth and Clarke pronounces virtue to 
 consist. If the models of created things are to be understood of 
 the models of existences merely, apart from their relations, we can 
 find no place there for the principles of " eternal and immutable 
 morality;" and if they are to be understood as comprehending 
 relations, then am I quite at a loss to conceive the difference, in 
 regard to the conclusions to which we must come, whether these 
 relations be considered in themselves or as pre-existing models in 
 the Divine Mind. Where, but in the Divine Mind, could the rela- 
 tions of created things subsist, before creation began ? And whether 
 viewed as ideally subsisting there, or as actually arising out of crea- 
 tion, they are the same relations, and every principle of reasoning 
 about them must be the same. 
 
 It is in an ethical point of view that Sir James Mackintosh, from 
 the very title of his dissertation, is considering the theories of the 
 two eminent men in question: but, when he speaks of " the very 
 relations of things themselves, as conceived in the Eternal Mind, 
 being the law of its will, as well as the model of its works," we 
 are tempted to remark, that in the " model of its works," when thus 
 set in contradistinction to the "law of its will," there is nothing 
 that belongs to the department of Ethics ; so that in fact, he states 
 the system of Clarke morally, and that of Cudworth only intel- 
 lectually and physically. I have spoken, indeed, of the "ideas 
 or models of created things being the rule of the Divine Will in the 
 creation of those things." By this, however, nothing more is meant, 
 than that, in every act of creative will, there is a necessary con- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 323 
 
 formity between that which is brought into being and the ideal arche- 
 type of it previously in the Divine Mind. But in this there is noth- 
 ing moral. The necessity is only that which arises from the perfec- 
 tion of intelligence and skill in the designing mind. That perfection 
 cannot but do what is intellectually and physically best. But in the 
 other case, the necessity is moral. The " eternal fitnesses " which, 
 according to the system of Clarke, correspond to the " relations of 
 things " as eternally present to the Divine Mind, are moral fitnesses ; 
 and the necesssity of this correspondence is a moral necessity, arising 
 from the absolute perfection, in the mind where the relations and the 
 fitnesses are conceived, of moral rectitude ; — that rectitude being 
 nothing different from the necessary attributes of the necessarily 
 existent Being, which, as we may afterwards see, are themselves the 
 standard of moral principles to the universe. — These moral fitnesses 
 belong to Cudworth's system equally with Clarke's ; else it would 
 have nothing properly moral in it, but would be, in a sense widely 
 different from that in which he meant the designation, an" intelleC' 
 tual system. " 
 
 Sir James Mackintosh states the object and the reasoning of Cud- 
 worth, and comments upon them, thus : (The importance of the cita- 
 tion must be my apology for the length of it : to abridge it would nei- 
 ther be justice to the author nor to the scholiast) — " Protagoras of 
 old, and Hobbes, then alive, having concluded that right and wrong 
 were unreal, because they were not perceived by the senses, and 
 because all human knowledge consists in such perceptions, Cudworth 
 attempts to confute them, by disproving that part of then premises 
 which forms the last stated proposition. The mind has many con- 
 ceptions (vorjjuaTa) which are not cognizable by the senses ; and 
 though they are occasioned by sensible objects, yet could not be 
 formed but by a faculty superior to sense. The conceptions of justice 
 and duty he places amongst them. The distinction of right from 
 wrong is discerned by reason ; and as soon as these woi ds are de- 
 fined, it becomes evident that it would be a contradiction in terms to 
 affirm that any power, human or divine, could change their nature ; 
 or, in other words, make the same act to be just and unjust at the 
 same time. They had existed eternally, in the only mode in which 
 truths can be said to be eternal, in the Eternal Mind ; and they were 
 indestructible and unchangeable like that Supreme Intelligence. 
 
 " Whatever judgment may be formed of this reasoning, it is man- 
 ifest that it relates merely to the philosophy of the understanding, 
 
324 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 and does not attempt any explanation of what constitutes the very 
 essence of morality, its relation to the will. That we perceive a 
 distinction between right and wrong, as much as between a triangle 
 and a square, is indeed true; and may possibly lead to an explana- 
 tion of the reason why men should adhere to the one and avoid the 
 other. But it is not that reason. A command or a precept is not a 
 proposition. It cannot be said that either is true or false. Cudworth, 
 as well as many who succeeded him, confounded the mere apprehen- 
 sion by the understanding that right is different from wrong, with the 
 practical authority of these important conceptions, exercised over 
 voluntary actions, in a totally distinct province of the soul." — 
 Prelim. Diss. p. 326. 
 
 I must confess myself at a loss to understand the force of this ob- 
 jection. It seems plausible ; but I am mistaken if its plausibility 
 arises from anything else than the form of its verbal statement. 
 Though Cudworth conceived right and wrong to be intellectually dis- 
 cerned — " discerned by reason," — he certainly did not consider 
 that discernment as including in it no more than is contained in the 
 discernment of truth or falsehood in propositions. It should be recol- 
 lected that the subject is moral distinctions. That which is true 
 may be said to be right ; but right in this case means no more than 
 its being according to fact : — and that which is false may be said 
 to be wrong ; but in this case also, wrong means no more than its 
 not being according to fact. True and false propositions with regard 
 to mind may also be said, intellectually , to be right or wrong. But 
 when the terms right and wrong are used in application to morals, 
 it is imopossible so to use them, without having in our minds, in con- 
 nection with right, the idea of something we are under obligation 
 to do, or at least under no obligation not to do, — and with wrong, 
 of something which we are under obligation not to do, or which 
 we cannot do without violating an obligation. What difference is 
 there, when we are speaking of moral distinctions, between affirming 
 a thing to be right and affirming it to be a thing which we may or 
 ought to do ; or between affirming a thing to be wrong and affirm- 
 ing it to be a thing which we ought not to do ? — Among concep- 
 tions that are " not cognizable by the senses," but must be formed 
 " by a faculty superior to sense," Sir J. M. justly represents Cudworth 
 as placing " the conceptions of justice and duty." Ought he not to 
 have perceived that the very term duty is one that involves obliga- 
 tion ? The conception of duty is the conception of what we 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 325 
 
 are under obligation to do. Does not what Sir James calls " the 
 apprehension by the understanding that right is different from wrong ' ' 
 mean identically the same thing with the apprehension by the under- 
 standing that right is what ought to be done, and wrong what ought 
 not to be done? And have not the " important conceptions" of 
 right and wrong invariably involved in them the conception of " prac- 
 tical authority?" If it be alleged, that discerning a thing to be 
 right is merely discerning it to be in harmony with the eternal fitnesses 
 of things ; I contend that this very conformity includes the idea 
 of obligation. AH morality has reference to ivill. But, since the 
 eternal fitnesses of things arise from the unchangeable principles of 
 moral rectitude in Deity, to discern anything to be according to these 
 fitnesses, is to discern it to be something with which the will of every 
 created intelligence ought to be in harmony. 
 
 There is a good deal, at the same time, in the general strain of 
 Cudworth's reasoning, that is apt to identify, in the reader's mind, 
 the impressions of truth and falsehood with those of moral right and 
 wrong. The cause of this, however, is obvious. It arises from its 
 being his main object to demonstrate, that moral distinctions are per- 
 ceived by the mind with the same intuition and the same certainty as 
 first or necessary truths. His whole system rests on the distinction, 
 which he illustrates with an almost tiresome prolixity, between sense 
 and intellection. In the impressions it receives from sense, the 
 mind is passive ; and from this source there can be derived only 
 conceptions of individual things existing without the mind. He 
 allows not to these conceptions, when they go no further, the name 
 of knowledge. What he regards as proper knowledge is composed 
 of those general and universal truths which consist in the clear con- 
 ceptions of the mind acting within itself. Everything, according 
 to him, is true, — . certainly and necessarily true, — which is clearly 
 intelligible ; and clear intelligibility is the sole test and criterion of 
 truth. He repeats this frequently. In replying to the natural ques- 
 tion, " How a man shall know when his conceptions are conformed 
 to the absolute and immutable natures or essences of things and their 
 unchangeable relations to one another," — he says " we must not go 
 about to look for the criterion of truth without ourselves; and then, in 
 further explanation, adds: — " The criterion of true knowledge is not 
 to be looked for anywhere abroad, without our own minds, neither in 
 the height above nor in the depth beneath, but only in our knowledge 
 and conceptions themselves. For the entity of all theoretical truth is 
 
 28 
 
326 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 nothing else but clear intelligibility, and whatever is clearly conceived 
 is an entity and a truth; but that which is false, divine power itself 
 cannot make it to be clearly and distinctly understood, because false- 
 hood is a nonentity, and a clear conception is an entity; and Om- 
 nipotence itself cannot make a nonentity to be an entity." — Etern. 
 and Immut. Moral, pp. 271, 272. "The true knowledge or sci- 
 ence, which exists nowhere but in the mind itself, has no other 
 entity at all besides intelligibility; and, therefore, whatsoever is 
 clearly intelligible is absolutely true:" — the essence of falsehood 
 consists in nothing else but nonintelligibility." — Pp. 275, 276. 
 
 It is deserving of notice, that all the illustrations which he pro- 
 duces of these singular positions, are taken from those self-evident 
 propositions, the opposites of which involve a contradiction: — Quod 
 cogitat, est: — sequalia addita sequalibus efficiunt aequalia; — omnis nu- 
 merusest vel parvelimpar: — nihili nulla est affectio, &c. — Pp. 274, 
 281, &c. Whence we are led to conclude that the system regards 
 the mind's conceptions of essential moral truths as of the same clear 
 and indubitable nature with these; — the perceptions of right and 
 wrong as unavoidable as the perception of the truth of self-evident 
 propositions. Truth, according to Cudworth, does not depend on 
 the nature or make of the faculties; but "be these faculties what 
 they will, clear intellectual conceptions must of necessity be trutbs, 
 because they are real entities;" — and "whenever any proposition is 
 rightly understood by any one particular mind, whatsoever and where- 
 soever it be, the truth of it is no private thing, nor relative to that par- 
 ticular mind only, but it is a catholic and universal truth, as the 
 Stoics speak, throughout the whole world; nay, it could not fail to 
 be a truth throughout infinite worlds, if there were so many, to all 
 such minds as should rightly understand it. " — Pp. 279, and 270, 271. 
 But be the case what it may with regard to those axiomatic truths, 
 the supposition of whose opposites involves contradiction, and which 
 cannot but appear in the same light to every mind that under- 
 stands the terms; it may still be a matter of question, whether the 
 same thing holds with regard to the great articles of moral science. 
 Cudworth himself, even after having affirmed that, be our faculties 
 what they will, and let them be supposed to be made how you will, 
 yet, notwithstanding, whatsoever is clearly understood and conceived 
 has an objective entity in it; and must of necessity be true; for a 
 clear conception cannot be nothing," (p. 277,) makes the following 
 admission: — " It cannot be denied but that men are oftentimes de- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 327 
 
 ceived, and think they clearly comprehend what they do not." — 
 P. 282. Now this simple admission appears to me to go near to 
 overturn, if it does not absolutely and entirely overturn, the whole of 
 this part of his theory. He adds, it is true, to the preceding admis- 
 sion the saving clause — " But it does not follow from hence, because 
 men sometimes think that they clearly comprehend what they do not, 
 that therefore they can never be certain that they do clearly compre- 
 hend anything." But this will not do: it will not keep the theory 
 afloat. For nothing can be more manifest, than that, if " men are 
 oftentimes deceived, and think they clearly comprehend ivhat 
 they do not," distinct comprehension, or " clear intelligibility," 
 cannot be an infallible criterion of truth. Indeed, one cannot but 
 be both surprised and amused, after having had the position reiterated 
 to satiety, and with a confidence that seems to defy the possibility of 
 objection, that " clear intellectual conceptions," be the faculties of 
 the mind ha which they exist what they may, " must of necessity be 
 truths," — to find the whole discussion closed with the admission, 
 that "men are oftentimes deceived, and think they clearly compre- 
 hend what they do not ! " — for how, in such cases, is it to be de- 
 termined whether their comprehensions are, or are not, clear ? Is it 
 by some other mind ? May not that mind also be deceived ? 
 
 This theory, of clear intelligibility being the sure criterion of 
 truth, stands exposed moreover to the objection urged in the text 
 against the various systems of morals commented upon, that the 
 understandings whose clear comprehension is thus erected into an in- 
 fallible criterion of truth or falsehood are understandings under the 
 obscuring and biasing influence of a depraved disposition ; the un- 
 derstandings not only of finite but of fallen creatures. How can it 
 ever be, that "clear intelligibility," in such minds, should be the 
 unerring test of the true and the false, especially in regard to sub- 
 jects on which, of all others, the disposition operates with the 
 largest measure of perverting power ? 
 
 I would only further observe as to the general theory of Cud- 
 worth, that it differs from that of Brown, in that the one founds 
 virtue in original conceptions, the other in original emotions. 
 
328 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NOTE E. Page 71. 
 
 Having read the Dissertation of Sir James Mackintosh, sub- 
 sequently to the time when this was written and delivered, I was 
 startled by an objection which he urges against Clarke, for thus com- 
 paring moral truth with mathematical certainties: — "The adoption,'* 
 he says, " of mathematical forms and terms was, in England, a 
 prevalent fashion amongst writers on moral subjects, during a large 
 part of the eighteenth century. The ambition of mathematical cer- 
 tainty on matters concerning which it is not given to man to reach it, 
 is a frailty from which the disciple of Newton ought in reason to 
 have been withheld, but to which he was naturally tempted by the 
 example of his master. Nothing but the extreme difficulty of de- 
 taching assent from forms of expression to which it has been long 
 wedded, can explain the fact, that the incautious expressions above 
 cited, into which Clarke was hurried by his moral sensibility, did 
 not awaken him to a sense of the error into which he had fallen. 
 As soon as he had said, that ' a wicked act was as absurd as an 
 attempt to take away the properties of a figure,' he ought to have 
 seen, that principles which led logically to such a conclusion were 
 untrue. As it is an impossibility to make three and three cease to 
 be six, it ought, on his principles, to be impossible to do a wicked 
 act." — Prelim. Dissert, p. 328. On the same principle, the com- 
 parison which I have here used ought to be objectionable, as implying 
 the impossibility of the supposed irreverence of Deity. But this 
 appears to me to be a hypercritical refinement. There may be an 
 impropriety and risk of error, in comparisons drawn from one science 
 to another, when the two are so widely dissimilar as geometry and 
 morals: but in the present instance, the meaning seems abundantly 
 clear. The impossibility expressed is not the impossibility of indulg- 
 ing a wicked disposition, or of doing a wicked act, — it is the 
 impossibility of harmonizing such a disposition, or such an act, with 
 the assumed eternal principles of morals, — these principles consist- 
 ing in eternal fitnesses to the relations of things as eternally subsisting 
 in the Divine Mind. This is the impossibility which the comparison 
 pronounces to be as great as that of " taking away the properties of 
 a figure," or of filling a sphere with a cube. The inconsistency of 
 the one with those principles of morals that are founded in the eter- 
 nal fitnesses of things, is as complete as is the inconsistency of the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 329 
 
 other with the axiomatic and immutable principles of geometrical 
 science. 
 
 "To act without regard to the relations of things," adds Sir 
 James, " as if a man were to choose fire for cooling, or ice for 
 heating, would be the part either of a lunatic or an idiot. The 
 murderer who poisons by arsenic acts agreeably to his knowledge of 
 the power of that substance to kill, which is a relation between two 
 things; as much as the physician, who employs an emetic after the 
 poison, acts upon the belief of the tendency of that remedy to pre- 
 serve life, which is another relation between two things. All men 
 who seek a good or bad end by good or bad means, must alike con- 
 form their conduct to some relation between their actions as means, 
 and their object as an end. All the relations of inanimate things to 
 each other are undoubtedly observed as much by the criminal as by 
 the man of virtue." — Ibid. 
 
 When Dr. Clarke says that " a wicked act is as absurd as the 
 attempt to take away the properties of a figure," does he not mean 
 that the two are equally absurd in their respective departments! 
 
 — that the one is as preposterously contrary to those eternal fitnesses 
 which constitute the principles of morals, as the other is to those 
 mathematical relations which constitute the principles of geometry? 
 
 — does not the very fact of his drawing a comparison, or borrowing 
 an analogy, from the one to the other, show, that he considered the 
 two descriptions of relations as essentially different, and moral rela- 
 tions, though capable of such analogical illustration from geometrical , 
 as quite distinct from, and not in any way affected by them ? The 
 same is the case with regard to such physical relations as those to 
 which Sir James here refers. The fact that the murderer and the 
 physician act alike in conformity to such relations for their respective 
 ends, is so far from bringing their respective actions into identity, or 
 even alliance with each other, that I presume Dr. Clarke would have 
 taken an illustration of his position with the same readiness from phys- 
 ical as from geometrical relations, and have pronounced the act of 
 murder as absurd a thing in the department of morals, as, in the de- 
 partment of physics, would be that of " choosing fire for cooling, or 
 ice for heating." But the very use of such a comparison would 
 have shown, in this case as in the other, that it is not on relations 
 universally, and of whatever kind, that he founds the principles of 
 morals, but only on those descriptions of relations, in which the idea 
 of moral fitnesses is susceptible of application; which in no mind 
 
 *28 
 
330 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 can ever be imagined the case, either with the relations of abstract 
 mathematics, or with those of the physical world. Dr. Clarke 
 may not have been sufficiently guarded in some of his modes of 
 expression and illustration — but possibly this might arise from his 
 not supposing that these different kinds of relations and fitnesses could 
 ever be confounded. 
 
 " It is therefore singular," says Sir James, further, "that Dr. 
 Clark'e suffered himself to be misled into the representation, that 
 virtue is a conformity to the relations of things universally, vice a 
 universal disregard of them, by the certain, but here insufficient 
 truth, that the former necessarily implied a regard to certain partic- 
 ular relations, which were always disregarded by those who chose the 
 latter. The distinction between right and wrong can, therefore, no 
 longer depend on relations as such, but on a particular class of rela- 
 tions. And it seems evident, that no relations are to be considered, 
 except those in which a living, intelligent, and voluntary agent is 
 one of the beings related." — Ibid. If Dr. Clarke would have 
 refused this, I have done with him. But I cannot imagine it. To 
 say that the relations on which virtue depends must be relations in 
 which " living, intelligent, and voluntary agents" have part, is no more 
 than to say that it is only such agents that are the subjects of moral 
 principle and moral responsibility. It never entered my mind to 
 imagine, that the relations and fitnesses in which the theory of Clarke 
 finds the principles of morals, were at all the relations between 
 the abstractions of geometry, or the lines and angles of practical 
 mathematics, or the fitnesses of fire to warm and of ice to cool, of 
 arsenic to kill and of an emetic to cure: — and I have already said, 
 that the very way in which Clarke borrows from other departments 
 illustrations for his own, shows the contrary. The general system 
 of morals consists in conformity to eternal fitnesses, — fitnesses, that 
 is, of certain modes of sentiment and feeling, and certain actions 
 and courses of conduct, to certain relations; not, surely, relations 
 which are entirely extraneous to the department of moral agency, 
 but all the relations in which such agency is possible, or by which it 
 is in any way affected. On these universally the general system of 
 morals rests; and in conformity to these universally virtue, consid- 
 ered generally, consists; while particular virtues consist more espe- 
 cially in conformity to particular relations: — Justus, in geometry, 
 the science itself rests on a variety of axioms, or first principles; 
 whilst the truth or falsehood of certain problems is demonstrated by, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 331 
 
 and turns upon, their agreement or disagreement with one or more 
 of these. 
 
 When Sir James adds — "The term relation itself, on which Dr. 
 Clarke's s) r stem rests, heing common to right and wrong, must be 
 struck out of the reasoning," — I would simply ask, in what sense it 
 is that the term is " common to right and wrong*" when virtue is 
 defined to consist in conformity, and vice in disconformity to these 
 relations ? It seems to be little better than trifling to say, that vice 
 consists in conformity to relations as well as virtue, because the mur- 
 derer proceeds upon the relation between arsenic and the constitution 
 of the human body. To me, indeed, it appears that some confusion 
 of ideas, and some injustice to the theory, have arisen from the dif- 
 ferent meanings of the term fitness. By the writer of the article 
 "Moral Philosophy," in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, it is stated as 
 an objection, that fit must of course mean fit for some end: fitness 
 which respects no end being inconceivable. — Encycl. Brit. Vol. 
 XIV. p. 361. But is not this, on such a subject, a somewhat unfair 
 application of the term fitness ? It is understood as signifying 
 adaptation to an end: — but in the theory of Clarke, its true mean- 
 ing is congruity with existing relations. This is a sense of the 
 word equally legitimate with the other. Yet it has been said, by 
 the writer referred to, that "to allege of any action that it is fit, and 
 yet not fit for any particular purpose, is as absurd as to say that 
 the angles at the base of an isosceles triangle are equal, but neither 
 to each other nor to any other angles." But this proceeds quite on 
 a misunderstanding of the proper meaning of fitness, as the term is 
 used in the theory: — for an action may be fit, as being in congruity 
 with a particular relation, and may be so contemplated by the 
 theorist, without his having in his mind at all its adaptation for any 
 particular purpose. 
 
 "If it be said," observes this writer, " that such actions are fit 
 and right, because they tend to promote the harmony of the world 
 and the welfare of mankind, this may be granted; but it overturns 
 the intellectual theory from the foundations; actions which are fit 
 and right only for their consequences, are approved and liked for the 
 sake of their consequences," &c. — All true. But does not this 
 representation discover a misapprehension of the true principle of 
 the system ; and this misapprehension arising from a very unaccount- 
 able inadvertency as to the meaning of the terms fit and fitness ? 
 And yet, unaccountable as this inadvertency is, Dr. Brown himself, 
 
332 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 in his strictures on the theory of Clarke, appears to be, very inex- 
 cusably, chargeable with it. Having represented this theory as 
 " supposing virtue to consist in the regulation of our conduct accord- 
 ing to certain fitnesses which we perceive in things, or a peculiar 
 congruity of certain relations to each other," — a representation in 
 which he seems to take the term fitness in the sense in which the 
 theorist evidently intended it to be understood, — he afterwards shifts 
 to the other meaning of it, and speaks of fitness as if it meant 
 adaptation to an end; observing that "it is to the good or evil of the 
 end that we look, and that we must always look, in estimating the 
 good or evil of the fitness itself;" and that "if it be the nature of 
 the end which gives value to the fitness, it is not the fitness, but the 
 end to which the fitness is subservient, that must be the true object 
 of moral regard." 
 
 It was certainly paying no compliment to the sagacity of Dr. 
 Clarke, to imagine that he could have founded virtue in fitnesses, 
 understanding the term of adaptation to ends, without perceiving 
 that in that case the excellence of virtue depended upon the end, 
 and that his theory resolved itself into that of utility. And yet, 
 on the credit of this being the sense in which the word fitness is to 
 be understood, does Dr. Brown sum up his strictures on Clarke's 
 system, in the following (as they appear to me on the ground just 
 mentioned) unwarrantably disrespectful terms: — "Since every hu- 
 man action, in producing any effect whatever, must be in conformity 
 with the fitnesses of things, the limitation of virtue to actions which 
 are in conformity with these fitnesses, has no meaning, unless we 
 have previously distinguished the ends which are morally good from 
 the ends which are morally evil, and limited the conformity of which 
 we speak to the one of these classes. In this case, however, the 
 theory of fitnesses, it is evident, far from accounting for the origin of 
 moral distinctions, proceeds on the admission of them: it pre-sup- 
 poses a distinctive love of certain virtuous ends, by their relations to 
 which all the fitnesses of actions are to be measured; and the sys- 
 tem of Dr. Clarke, therefore, if stripped of its pompous phraseology, 
 and translated into common language, is nothing more than the very 
 simple truism, or tautology, that to act virtuously is to act in con- 
 formity to virtue." — Brown's Lectures, Lect. 76. 
 
 I appeal to the reader, whether this reduction of the theory of 
 Clarke to a worthless truism, be not founded rather in the misrepre- 
 sentation, on the part of the commentator, of the chief term he has 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 333 
 
 employed in propounding it, than in the faultiness of the theory it- 
 self. My object is not to uphold it ; but to do justice to its acute and 
 able author. Let the term fitness be understood as meaning con- 
 gruity with relations, rather than adaptation to ends, — and the 
 contemptuous estimate of the theory, which has just been quoted, 
 loses its basis. 
 
 NOTE F, Page. 87. 
 
 There Were here introduced, in the first edition, the following 
 sentences: — ** He adds, * Though the three sides of aright-angled 
 triangle exist in the triangle itself, and Constitute it what it is, What 
 we term the properties of such a triangle do not exist in it, but are 
 results of a peculiar capacity of the comparing mind.' I confess 
 myself not metaphysician enough to comprehend how ' the com- 
 paring mind ' should discover the properties of a right-angled trian- 
 gle, unless they * existed in it; ' — and it appears to me, moreover, 
 exceedingly incorrect to say, that the three sides of the triangle, 
 which are admitted to exist in it, ' constitute it what it is,' seeing 
 the property of having three sides is common to all triangles, and 
 not peculiar to the rectangular, — and that the rectangular triangle 
 ' is constituted what it is,' not by this common property, but by 
 those very peculiar properties which are alleged not to exist in it, 
 but to be merely relative to a certain capacity of our minds. Were 
 this not the case, then there might exist, or be imagined, a right- 
 angled triangle without those properties: that is. but for the ' pecu- 
 liar capacity of the comparing mind,' there might be a right-angled 
 triangle, of which the three angles were not equal to two right 
 angles. To my mind it appears, that the comparison is all against 
 the theory ; and that, as this distinguishing property is essential to 
 the very nature of a right-angled triangle, so is there something 
 essential in the nature of moral rectitude, in the distinctions of right 
 and wrong. Nor am I able to conceive what it is for an agent to 
 be virtuous or vicious, if there be no abstract principles of virtue 
 and vice, in conformity to which the character of the agent con- 
 sists." 
 
334 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 I might have satisfied myself with simply leaving out this pas- 
 sage, so that no reader of the second edition might have known of its 
 existence. I reckon it, however, the duty of an author, when he 
 discovers that, in censuring the statements of another, his own are in 
 fault, ingenuously to acknowledge it. Now, not only have I fallen 
 into the unaccountable inadvertency of writing, instead of the prop- 
 erty of the square of the hypothenuse being equal to the squares of 
 the other two sides, which is truly distinctive of the rectangular tri- 
 angle, the property of the equality of the three angles to two right 
 angles, which is not distinctive of any one triangle, but common to 
 all; — this might easily have been rectified: — but there is a fallacy 
 in the objection to Dr. Brown's statement, of which, on reconsider- 
 ation, I am sensible. The Doctor, indeed, has himself in part led 
 me into it, by speaking of the three sides of the rectangular triangle 
 as " constituting it what it is; " inasmuch as it is not by the three 
 sides, which all triangles have, but by the relative position of the 
 sides to one another, or by the one circumstance (from which it has 
 its name) of its having in it a right angle, that it is distinguished 
 from other triangles, and so constituted what it is. But in saying 
 this, I have stated my own error as well as his. The property, 
 that the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the 
 other two sides, is not the property which constitutes the rectangular 
 triangle what it is. Such a triangle is constituted what it is, by the 
 simple fact of two of its three sides being at right angles to each 
 other, and would have continued what it is forever, by this rel- 
 ative position of its sides, although the property of the equality 
 of the one and the two squares had never been discovered; — although 
 the " comparing mind " had .never thought of or demonstrated such 
 a problem. 
 
 While I acknowledge this inadvertency, and, on account of it, 
 have expunged the passage, the admission, let it be understood, is 
 not one which at all effects the conclusiveness of my reasoning. To 
 say, as Dr. Brown does, that the property in question is " the result 
 of a peculiar capacity of the comparing mind," is to say that the 
 property had no existence previously to its discovery by the compar- 
 ing mind. But if this were true, it is not easy to imagine how it 
 could ever have been discovered. It was, most assuredly, a truth 
 antecedently to the discovery of it — (may we not even say, on ab- 
 stract principles, an eternal truth ?) — that in a right-angled triangle, 
 the square of the one side was equal to the squares of the other two. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 335 
 
 Had it not been previously true, no comparing mind could ever have 
 found it out; and though no comparing mind had ever found it out, 
 it would not on that account have been the less true. I speak with 
 diffidence ; but I cannot but consider Dr. Brown, acute metaphysi- 
 cian as he was, as most strangely misled, in the whole passage where 
 this comparison occurs, by the influence of predilection for a theory. 
 " It is man, he says, " or some thinking being like man, whose 
 comparison gives birth to the feeling that is termed by us a discovery 
 of the equality of the square of one of the sides to the squares of the 
 other two!" A feeling is to be understood as synonymous with a 
 notion; for he afterwards speaks of the "feelings excited in the con- 
 templating mind," as being " notions of equality and proportion." 
 Now it seems reasonable to think, that the thing of which the con- 
 templating mind obtains the notion, must have had existence before 
 the notion of it was obtained ; else the notion must have been a no- 
 tion of nothing. That which is discovered, and the discovery of it 
 "are surely not the same thing. We call the thing discovered, a 
 discovery; but we do not mean by this, that it is a mere feeling or 
 notion in the mind, and has no truth and no existence out of the 
 mind and independently of it. The discovery, in the present case, 
 is to be found in the demonstrated problem; and, on the assump- 
 tion of the correctness of the demonstration, it stands a truth, inde- 
 pendently of the feeling of any particular mind, or of all minds. 
 " If the feeling of the relation never had arisen, and never were to 
 arise, in any mind, though the squares themselves might still exist as 
 separate figures, their equality would be nothing.'' Nothing ! 
 Would it not be "their equality ?" and what else is therein 
 question ? Would it not have been true, that the one square was 
 equal to the other two squares, if no mind had ever perceived the 
 equality ? Is not the affirmation that unless the relation had been 
 perceived by some "comparing mind," the " equality would have 
 been nothing," equivalent to the affirmation that there really was noth- 
 ing for the comparing mind to perceive ? 
 
 The proposition, that the square of the hypothenuse is equal to 
 the squares of the other two sides, is a proposition which does not 
 surely express a relation between the figure of a right-angled triangle 
 and the comparing mind, but a relation between the component sides 
 of such a triangle to each other: — and if this relation did not sub- 
 sist previously to the comparing mind's discovering it, I am at a loss 
 to know what there was for the comparing mind to discover; how, 
 
836 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS^ 
 
 consequently, the discovery could have been made; or (which, ac- 
 cording to Dr. Brown, is the same thing,) how the feeling of the re- 
 lation could ever, in any mind, have arisen. " Certain geometrical 
 figures cannot be contemplated by us, without exciting certain feel- 
 ings of the contemplating mind — which are notions of equality or 
 proportion. Is it necessary that the equality should be itself some- 
 thing existing in the separate figures themselves, without reference to 
 any mind that contemplates them, before we put any confidence in 
 geometry ? Or is it not enough, that every mind which does con- 
 template them together is impressed with that particular feeling in con- 
 sequence of which they are ranked as equal ? " But these, I would 
 say, with all due deference, are not questions in point. The proper 
 question is, How comes it, that certain geometrical figures cannot be 
 contemplated by us without exciting notions of equality and propor- 
 tion ? Can this arise from any other cause than that the equality and 
 proportion do actually belong, as properties, to the figures themselves? 
 Suppose it were granted that it is not necessary to our " putting con- 
 fidence in geometry," that "the equality should be itself something 
 existing in the separate figures themselves; " still we must affirm, this 
 existence of the equality in the figures themselves is necessary to ac- 
 count for the fact, that " every mind that does contemplate them to- 
 gether is impressed with that particular feeling, in consequence of 
 which they are ranked as equal " — that is, is impressed with the no- 
 tion of their equality. — But is it a fact that every contemplating mind 
 is so impressed ? 
 
 The proposition, that " in every right-angled triangle the square of 
 the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other sides," is cer- 
 tainly not a proposition whose truth is self-evident. And if the re- 
 lation which it expresses be not a relation existing in the figure itself, 
 but a relation only between the figure and the perceiving mind, and 
 which has no subsistence except as so perceived, then how is the 
 truth of the demonstration in the 37th proposition of the first Book 
 of Euclid to be ascertained ? Is it by the numerical proportion of 
 minds in which the " feeling is excited," or the notion produced, of 
 equality? If the " equality be nothing " except as perceived, and 
 the relation be one that is only in the mind, — then in regard to every 
 mind that cannot follow the geometrical demonstration, and perceive 
 the quod erat demonstrandum, the relation expressed in the propo- 
 sition is not merely an existing relation not perceived, but it is a re- 
 lation which has no existence. And, although the non-existence 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 337 
 
 of it in one mind cannot disprove the existence of it in another, yet 
 the mind in which the notion of the relation does not arise, or the 
 feeling of it is not excited, has the very same exidence of its non-ex- 
 istence, as the mind in which the notion does arise has of its exist- 
 ence. The bearing of this discussion on the important subject of 
 morals, I must leave the reader to gather from the argument in the 
 text with which it stands connected. Dr. Brown's object is to show 
 that, as equality and proportions are not relations subsisting in geo- 
 metrical figures themselves, but are mere relations between the figures 
 and certain feelings or notions of the comparing mind; so right and 
 wrong are nothing in themselves, or " existing in individual agents," 
 but merely relations between certain actions and courses of action, 
 and certain mental emotions. If he fails in establishing the one, he 
 equally fails in the other. I still think, that the illustrative compar- 
 ison is a very unfortunute one, and " all against the theory." 
 
 NOTE G. Page 98. 
 
 In the observations here made in justice to Mr. Hume's theory, I 
 have proceeded on the assumption (page 95,) that '< in the whole 
 discussion it ought to be pi-eviously understood, that, when we treat 
 of virtue, we treat of what relates to the feelings and actions of 
 living, conscious, voluntary agents. ' ' On this it has been said : — 
 " It is obvious to ask in reply, Why ought it to be understood and 
 assumed, that virtus relates exclusively to the actions of voluntary 
 agents ? Why ought it to be understood, that our ideas of virtue 
 are restricted to one department of nature ? No reason can be as- 
 signed on the theory of utility. On that theory, the assumption is 
 arbitrary; for, if utility is of the essence of virtue, — if usefulness 
 is that which constitutes virtue, then there is no reason why virtue 
 should be limited to one department of nature, any more than use- 
 fulness which constitutes it what it is. The absence of voluntary 
 choice might deprive us of a virtuous agent, but not of a virtuous 
 effect. In short, on the theory of utility, virtue ought to inhere in 
 an effect, irrespective of moral agency or voluntary choice. * * * * 
 The great objection to the theory of utility is, that it makes virtue 
 
 29 
 
338 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 nothing irrespective of its effects; that it makes its nature, its es- 
 sence, and its excellence, dependent on its effects, instead of making 
 its tendencies and effects result from its nature." — Christian Jour- 
 nal for February, 1834. Rev. of Christian Ethics. 
 
 This is ingenious and plausible; but I still think fallacious. In 
 answer to the questions, " Why ought it to be understood and as- 
 sumed, that virtue relates exclusively to the actions of voluntary 
 agents ? Why ought it to be understood that our ideas of virtue are 
 restricted to one department of nature? " I would answer — for 
 the very same reason for which we distinguish, and treat distinctly, 
 the various departments or kingdoms of the physical creation. We 
 consider virtue as belonging to the intelligent and rational creation, 
 or in one word, to mind, as naturally and confidently as we consider 
 extension, figure, impenetrability , to belong to the physical and 
 material creation, or in one word, to matter. Virtue, it appears to 
 me, pertains as exclusively to the mental department, as the quali- 
 ties enumerated pertain to the material. If, because virtue consists 
 in utility, it followed that whatever is useful has in it the essence of 
 virtue, — this sequence would appear to me the same as the sequence, 
 that whatever is useful in the department of matter must have in it 
 what belongs exclusively to the department of mind, — nay, must 
 be that which can have no existence but in mind. Now, would not 
 this be about as reasonable as to say, that whatever is useful in any 
 one of the subdivisions of physical nature may be fairly predicated 
 to be whatever you will that is useful in another ? 
 
 It may perhaps be answered, that there is a difference between a 
 thing's being useful and its consisting essentially in its usefulness. 
 The latter being the position, does it not, it may be said, clearly fol- 
 low, that whatever is useful possesses that in which virtue essential- 
 ly consists? which amounts to the same thing as its having in it the 
 essence of virtue ? The whole of this, however, seems to me to 
 turn upon the inadvertency of speaking of a virtuous action, as if 
 such an action could subsist independently of a virtuous agent. 
 But there can be no such thing. {See Christian Ethics, Introd. 
 to Led. II.) Even upon the system of utility, an action, I appre- 
 hend, may be a useful action without being a virtuous action. 
 Every action must be the action of an agent. There can be no .vir- 
 tue in an action, except as the action of an agent. If, therefore, 
 there can be no virtue in an action but as the action of an agent, 
 must not the virtue of the action, so considered, properly consist, not 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 339 
 
 in the actual utility or beneficial effect, but in the agent's regard to 
 that utility 1 in the action's being done with a view to that benefi- 
 cial effect? The quality of virtue lies not properly in the action 
 but in the agent; and when we speak of a virtuous action, we inva- 
 riably have respect to the state of the agent's mind in the doing of 
 it. So that the utility, on account of which (according to this the- 
 ory) we approve an action as virtuous, must be the utility in the in- 
 tention of the agent. When evil results from an action, we do not 
 on that account pronounce it vicious, if we are assured that so far 
 from the evil having been contemplated by the agent, he intended 
 the very opposite good; and when good is the result of an action, 
 neither do we on that account pronounce it virtuous, if we know that 
 the agent meant it for evil. 
 
 These statements seem to me in harmony with every fair and 
 candid view of the utilitarian theory. And if so, they sufficiently 
 show that virtue, in its own proper department, might consist in 
 utility, without the sequence following, that utility in every other 
 department must constitute virtue. "The absence of voluntary 
 choice," says the reviewer, "might deprive us of a virtuous agent, 
 but not of a virtuous effect." On the principles laid down, there 
 can be no such thing as a " virtuous effect.'''' Nay, the effect may 
 even be that which constitutes the action virtuous, and yet have no 
 virtue in itself; nor does the virtue even of the action lie simply in 
 its producing the effect, but, considered as the action of a virtuous 
 agent, (the only rational sense in which it can be called a virtuous 
 action) its virtue lies, as has been said, in the effect as contemplated 
 and intended by the agent. I do not at present see it to be at all a 
 fair conclusion against the utilitarian system, (though I reject it on 
 other grounds,) that it makes virtue "inhere in its effects." The 
 virtue must be sought in the agent who does the action, and it is the 
 virtue in the agent that imparts virtue to his action ; the action cannot 
 be taken apart from the agent, and possess virtue in itself; still less 
 can there be virtue in the effect resulting from the action, considered 
 in itself, — that is, abstractedly from the intention of the agent. The 
 fundamental principle of the 'utilitarian theory, as stated, (page 98,) 
 seems to me to be, "that in the actions of voluntary agents, (in 
 which alone any moral principle, whether good or evil, is to be 
 sought,) the virtue consists in the good or benefit to which, in the 
 purpose of the agent they tend." While I cannot, on the grounds 
 stated in the Lectures, approve of the system, I would not do it in- 
 justice, by imputing to it consequences which are not legitimate. 
 
340 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 NOTE H. Page 118. 
 
 The defect in Butler here complained of is in part supplied by 
 the following amplification of the illustrative case selected by the 
 Bishop. The citation is from Dr. Chalmers' Bridgewater Treatise, 
 Part I. chap. i. pp. 64 — 67. "Here it is of capital importance to 
 distinguish between an original and proper tendency, and a subse- 
 quent aberration. This has been well illustrated by the regulator of 
 a watch, whose office and primary design, and that obviously an- 
 nounced by the relation in which it stands to the other parts of the 
 machinery, is to control the velocity of its movements. And we 
 should still perceive this to have been its destination, even though, by 
 accident or decay, it had lost the power of command which at the 
 first belonged to it. We should not misunderstand the purpose of 
 its maker, although in virtue of some deterioration or derangement 
 which the machinery had undergone, that purpose were now frus- 
 trated. And we could discern the purpose in the very make and 
 constitution of the mechanism. We might even see it to be an ir- 
 regular watch; and yet this need not prevent us from seeing, that, at 
 its original fabrication, it was made for the purpose of moving regu- 
 larly. The mere existence and position of the regulator might suf- 
 fice to indicate this; although it had become powerless, either from 
 the wearing of the parts or from some extrinsic disturbance to which 
 the instrument had been exposed. The regulator, in this instance, 
 may be said to have the right, though not the power, of command 
 over the movements of the time-piece ; yet the loss of the power 
 has not obliterated the vestiges of the right; so that, by the inspec- 
 tion of the machinery alone, we both learn the injury that has been 
 done to it, and the condition in which it originally came from the 
 hand of its maker — a condition of actual as well as rightful su- 
 premacy, on the part of the regulator, over all its movements. And 
 a similar discovery may be made, by examination of the various 
 parts and principles which make up the moral system of man; for 
 we see various parts and principles there. We see ambition, having 
 power for its object, and without the attainment of which it is not 
 satisfied; and avarice, having wealth for its object, without the at- 
 tainment of which it is not satisfied; and benevolence, having for its 
 object the good of others, without the attainment of which it is not 
 satisfied; and the love of reputation, having for its object their ap- 
 plause, without which it is not satisfied; and lastly, to proceed no 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 341 
 
 further in the enumeration, conscience, which surveys and superin- 
 tends the whole man, and whose distinct and appropriate object is to 
 have the entire control both of its inward desires and of its outward 
 doings; and without the attainment of this it is thwarted from its 
 proper aim, and remains unsatisfied. Each appetite or affection of 
 our nature hath its own distinct object; but this last is the object of 
 conscience, which may be termed the moral affection. The place 
 which it occupies, or rather which it is felt that it should occupy, and 
 which naturally belongs to it, is that of a governor, claiming the supe- 
 riority, and taking to itself the direction over all the other powers and 
 passions of humanity. If this superiority be denied to it, there is a 
 felt violence done to the whole economy of man. The sentiment is, 
 that the spring is not as it should be; and even after conscience is 
 forced, in virtue of some subsequent derangement, from this station of 
 rightful ascendency, we can still distinguish between what is the 
 primitive design or tendency, and what is the posterior aberration. 
 We can perceive, in the case of a deranged or distempered watch, 
 that the mechanism is out of order; but even then, on the bare exam- 
 ination of its workmanship, and more especially from the place and 
 bearing of its regulator, can we pronounce that it was made for mov- 
 ing regularly. And in like manner, on the bare inspection of our 
 mental economy alone, and more particularly from the place which 
 consicence has there, can we, even in the case of the man who re- 
 fuses to obey its dictates, affirm that he was made for walking con- 
 scientiously." 
 
 The general truth of this representation, I am far from being dis- 
 posed to question; nor is it at all inconsistent with any of my 
 statements. My object is to show, that conscience is not to be 
 depended upon as an infallible standard of right and wrong. Dr. 
 Chalmers says, (page 91,) "In every case, where the moral sense is 
 unfettered by these associations," (various perverting influences which 
 he had enumerated,) " and the judgment is uncramped, either by the 
 partialities of interest, or by the inveteracy of national customs which 
 habit and antiquity have rendered sacred, conscience is found to 
 speak the same language, nor to the remotest ends of the world, if 
 there a country or an island, where the same uniform and consistent 
 voice is not heard from her. Let the mists of ignorance and pas- 
 sion, and artificial education be only cleared away; and the moral 
 attributes of goodness and righteousness and truth be seen undistorted 
 and in their own proper guise ; and there is not a heart or a con- 
 
 29* 
 
342 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 science throughout earth's teeming population, which would refuse 
 to do them homage. And it is precisely because the Father of the 
 human family has given such hearts and conscience to all his chil- 
 dren, that we infer these to be the very sanctities of the Godhead, 
 the very attributes of his own primeval nature." — But to what more 
 does this amount, than that, if all biasing and perverting influences 
 were withdrawn, and men were fully and universally under the dom- 
 inance of knowledge and right affections, conscience would operate 
 rightly and uniformly. This is confirmatory of my positions, not 
 against them. 
 
 NOTE I. Page 163. 
 
 "Sir James Mackintosh," says Dr. Chalmers, "tells us of 
 the generation of human conscience; and not merely states, but en- 
 deavors to explain, the phenomenon of its felt supremacy within 
 us." — Bridgw. Treat, p. 60. Conscience is not regarded by Sir 
 James as either original or uncompounded. — He speaks of it as 
 "the acquired, perhaps, but universally and necessarily acquired 
 faculty of conscience." — Prelim. Diss. p. 368. And although in 
 this sentence he seems to speak hesitatingly, the "perhaps''' only 
 expresses the modesty of the philosopher in differing from others, 
 not a feeling of scepticism as to the validity of his own theory; for, 
 in introducing his remarks on the composition or generation of con- 
 science, he speaks of the principle of it as " a most important consid- 
 eration, which had escaped Hartley, as well as every other philoso- 
 pher." — In explaining how conscience is acquired, he shows at the 
 same time that he considered it not as simple, but compounded. 
 "The language of all mankind," says he, " implies that the moral 
 faculty, whatever it may be, and from what origin soever it may 
 spring, is intelligibly and properly spoken of as one." — But though 
 thus properly spoken of as one, it is not, according to him, because 
 it is originally one. "It is as common," he adds, "in mind as in 
 matter, for a compound to have properties not to be found in any of 
 its constituent parts:" — "originally separate feelings may be so 
 perfectly blended by a process performed in every mind, that they 
 can no longer be disjoined from each other, but must always co- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 343 
 
 operate, and thus reach the only union which we can conceive." — 
 P. 268. 
 
 The next question, therefore, is, what is the composition of this 
 moral faculty ? what are its constituent elementary principles ? — ■ 
 " The truth seems to be, that the moral sentiments in their mature 
 state, are a class of feelings which have no other object but the 
 mental dispositions leading to voluntary action, and the vol- 
 untary actions which flow from these dispositions. We are 
 pleased with some dispositions and actions, and displeased with oth- 
 ers, in ourselves and our fellows. We desire to cultivate the dispo- 
 sitions, and to perform the actions, which we contemplate with 
 satisfaction. These objects, like all those of human appetite or 
 desire, are sought for their own sakes." — P. 346. " The sentiment 
 of moral approbation, formed by association out of antecedent affec- 
 tions, may become so perfectly independent of them, that we are no 
 longer conscious of the means by which it was formed, and never 
 can ha practice repeat, though we may in theory perceive, the pro- 
 cess by which it was generated. It is in that mature and sound 
 state of our nature, that our emotions at the view of right and wrong 
 are ascribed to conscience.'''' — P. 368. 
 
 In one view of it, this theory seems to bear a pretty close affinity 
 to that of Dr. Brown, — namely, in that it finds the origin of our 
 moral judgments in certain feelings or emotions. " We are pleased 
 with some dispositions and actions, and displeased with others, in 
 ourselves and our fellows." This pleasure and displeasure are thus 
 imputed to certain primary principles of our constitution, even the ele- 
 mentary feelings which are conceived to enter into the ultimate compo- 
 sition of conscience. Why we are thus pleased or displeased, it does 
 not, so far as I observe, form any part of the theory to explain. We are 
 so constituted. This class of feelings have their appropriate objects 
 and sources of gratification, like all the other natural appetites and 
 desires. Their distinguishing peculiarity is, that " their gratification 
 requires the use of no means." "Nothing stands between the 
 moral sentiments and their object. They are, as it were, in contact 
 with the will." They are the only description of desires and aver- 
 sions of which "volitions and actions are themselves the end, or last 
 object in view." Still they are primary feelings, seated in our con- 
 stitution, and by the laws of that constitution associated with certain 
 emotions, according as the objects with which they come into con- 
 tact are agreeable or disagreeable, in harmony or in dissonance with 
 
344 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 them. — This bears a close analogy to Dr. Brown's theory of primary 
 and constitutional emotions of approbation and disapprobation, which 
 are with him the grounds of our moral judgments. — Sir James 
 speaks of conscience, accordingly, as being " made up of emotions," 
 — and of a " fitness to excite approbation as a relation of objects to 
 our susceptibility." — P. 393. I would speak with diffidence; but 
 there does appear to me some confusion of ideas in the representation 
 given of conscience in the passage where this phraseology occurs : — 
 " That the main, if not sole, object of conscience is to govern our 
 voluntary exertions, is manifest. But how could it perform this 
 great function, if it did not impel the will? and how could it have 
 the latter effect as a mere act of reason, or indeed in any respect 
 otherwise than as it is made up of emotions, by which alone its 
 grand aim could in any degree be attained ? " — P. 193. 
 
 Is there no difference, then, between governing and impelling? 
 or is it necessary that the impelling and the governing power be the 
 same ? Are the regulator and the main-spring in a watch the same ? 
 The latter impels, the former governs. That a power should impel 
 which is " made up of emotion," is certainly very conceivable; but 
 I can hardly imagine anything more unfit for governing. The emo- 
 tions of which the power is supposed to be made up come more ap- 
 propriately, I should think, among the things to be controlled and 
 governed. And surely a principle into which judgment and reason 
 enter is much better adapted for the exercise of rule and govern- 
 ment, than one that is " made up of emotions." The affections 
 and dispositions are the immediate impulses to volition and action. 
 It is the province, or part of the province, of conscience, to control 
 and regulate these very impulses; — and instead of speaking of it as 
 made up of emotions, werelto represent it as made up of anything, 
 it should be rather of convictions, or decisions of the judgment with 
 regard to right and wrong. Not that I would exclude from the im- 
 port of the term the emotions, of pleasure on the one hand, and pian 
 on the other, produced by the testimony of conscience that we have 
 done right, or that we have done wrong. But these are emotions 
 of quite a different nature from those of which Sir James insists that 
 conscience must be made up, in order to fit it for " governing our 
 actions " by " impelling our will." They are emotions subsequent 
 to both the volition and the action. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS 345 
 
 NOTE K. Page 172. 
 
 In the text, I have represented Paul as being far from pleading 
 Conscientiousness as a palliation of his guilt in persecuting the church 
 and cause of Jesus of Nazareth. To this statement his own words 
 in 1 Tim. i. 12, 13; may perhaps be considered as opposed: — "And 
 I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that he 
 counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry; who was before a 
 blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious: but I obtained mercy, 
 because I did it ignorantly, in unbelief." But, as the object of the 
 Apostle in the whole passage is, to magnify his own sinfulness and 
 the consequently abundant grace of Christ manifested in his salvation 
 and apostleship, it does not a priori, seem likely that he would in- 
 troduce considerations palliative of the former, and, by necessary 
 consequence, calculated to reduce, rather than to enhance, the esti- 
 mate of the latter. On this account, as well as on other grounds, I 
 am inclined to agree with those who would throw the words — " but 
 I obtained mercy," — into a parenthesis; and then the clause which 
 follows — "for I acted ignorantly in unbelief" — will not, as at 
 present, express the reason why mercy was obtained by him, or 
 rather was not withheld from him, but will only account for his 
 conduct as a blasphemer, a persecutor, and injurious. The verse will 
 stand thus: — Tbv Ttgoisgov ovxa ftl&crcpijfiov jcal d iwxtijv , xal 
 
 ■tifiQMTTTJV, (ulV rjls^d^v) OTV fafVOLOV £7TOh](J(X, £v (XTUUTlCl 
 
 " Who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious, 
 (but I obtained mercy) for I acted ignorantly in unbelief : and the 
 grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant," &c. — Such a con- 
 struction of the words is very consistent both with the writer's spirit 
 and style. But for a full and lucid statement of the grounds on which 
 this reading is to be preferred, I would refer my readers to an excellent 
 little Tract on Assurance and Pardon, by the Rev. David Russell, 
 of Dundee. 
 
 NOTE L. Page 173. 
 
 I have as yet met with nothing that has tended to alter, or mate- 
 rially to modify, the views I have here and elsewhere given of the 
 
346 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 nature of conscience, as consisting in the exercise of the judgment 
 in regard to human conduct and its principles, combined with the 
 susceptibility of certain emotions ; the emotions not determining the 
 judgment, but arising from its decisions. 
 
 The work of Dr. Abercrombie, on " The Philosophy of the Mor- 
 al Feelings," I read when these Lectures were nearly finished at 
 pi-ess; not, therefore, in time to admit of my making reference to it. 
 The two volumes of that highly esteemed friend, on the philosophy 
 of the intellectual powers and the moral feelings, I regard as exceed- 
 ingly valuable, being the production of a man equally distinguished 
 for professional eminence and Christian excellence, replete with in- 
 teresting facts, as well as enlightened disquisition, and admirably 
 adapted for counteracting the prevailing tendencies in the minds of 
 youthful physiologists to materialism and infidelity, and for recom- 
 mending to consideration and acceptance those peculiar discoveries 
 of revelation, the profession of which he, at the same time, adorns 
 by his consistent example. With a great deal of what he says on 
 the subject of conscience, I perfectly concur. I cannot but think, 
 however, that on the one point of its identity with judgment in the actual 
 process of the mind, an analysis of his own expressions may go far 
 to satisfy him that there is no ground for the distinction between 
 them. " We appeal," he says, " to the consciousness of every 
 man, that he perceives a power, which, in particular cases, warns 
 him of the conduct which he ought to pursue, and administers a 
 solemn admonition when he has departed from it. For, while his 
 judgment conveys to him a certain impression both of the qualities 
 and the tendencies of actions, he has, besides this, a feeling by 
 which he views the actions with approbation or disapprobation, 
 in reference purely to their moral aspect, and without any re- 
 gard to their consequences." — Phil, of the Moral Feelings, 
 p. 142. 
 
 Now, what is it that is here assigned to judgment? " It conveys 
 to him a certain impression both of the qualities and tendencies of 
 actions." I wish to know what is precisely meant by the qualities 
 of actions, as thus distinguished from their tendencies. Am I to 
 understand by the term, their moral qualities, — their distinctive 
 characters as right or wrong? If so, then the judgment is repre- 
 sented as conveying an impression of these qualities, distinctly from, 
 and independently of, their tendencies. When to this, it is sub- 
 joined, — " he has, besides this, a feeling by which he views the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 347 
 
 actions with approbation or disapprobation, in reference purely to 
 their moral aspect, and without regard to consequences," — what 
 is the precise amount of addition to the previous statement ? In 
 the latter part of the sentence, do not the terms " moral aspect," 
 and " consequences " correspond to what, in the former part of it, 
 are expressed by " qualities " and " tendencies?" If so, then, 
 if an impression of the qualities of an action is conveyed by the 
 judgment, is not an impression of its moral aspect conveyed by the 
 judgment ? And does not this amount to the same thing, with an 
 impression of it as right or wrong being conveyed by the judg- 
 ment ? Is there, then, any material difference between the impres- 
 sion of an action as right, and the sentiment of approbation, or 
 between the impression of an action as wrong, and the sentiment 
 of disapprobation? If there be, I cannot discern it. The senti- 
 ment of approbation, be it remembered, is something very distinct 
 from the consent of the heart and will. Conscience may approve, 
 while the affections and desires rebel. Were it otherwise, there 
 could never be a dictate of conscience without the concurrence of 
 the heart, and the consequent correspondence of the volition and the 
 action; which would be the same thing as to say there could be no 
 such thing as the pain of guilt, or indeed, as guilt itself. It appears 
 to me, that the impression of an action as right — morally right, is 
 approbation; not merely that it gives rise to approbation, but that it 
 is approbation. Dr. Abercrombie afterwards adds, (page 143) "The 
 province of conscience, then, appears to be, to convey to man a 
 certain conviction of what is morally right and wrong, in regard to 
 conduct in individual cases, and the general exercise of the desires 
 and affections." But is there any essential difference between the 
 province of conscience, as thus defined, and the province of judg- 
 ment, as defined in the terms already cited ? — any essential differ- 
 ence between " conveying to man a certain conviction of what is 
 morally right and wrong in conduct," and " conveying to him a cer- 
 tain impression of the qualities of actions." 
 
 All this, however, depends, I am aware, on what the Dr. means 
 by " the qualities of actions." I have been assuming him to mean 
 their moral qualities ; because it is about these alone that there is 
 any argument ; and indeed, when human actions are the subject, what 
 qualities are there besides their moral qualities that are deserving of 
 controversy ? If, however, Dr. A. refers, when he speaks of judg- 
 ment, to the physical qualities of actions, my reasoning, I readily 
 
348 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 acknowledge, is baseless. But then, I should at once deny the cor- 
 rectness of confining the exercise of judgment respecting actions, 
 exclusively to physical properties : and in this, I think, I should carry 
 the majority of judgments along with me. Yet that physical qual- 
 ities are intended, I have been led to suspect by the terms of a sub- 
 sequent statement. In speaking, (page 147,) of a particular disor- 
 dered state of the affections and moral principles, " while there is 
 no derangement in the ordinary exercise of judgment," he says, — 
 " There is no diminution of his sound estimate of physical relations, — 
 for this is the province of reason. But there is a total derangement 
 of his sense and approbation of moral relations, — for this is con- 
 science." Are the " moral relations ," then, to be excluded 
 from the proper province of reason ? and is that province to be con- 
 fined to "physical relations" only? I confess myself, indeed, at a 
 loss for a definite idea of the application of reason to the physical 
 relations of actions. What are those physical relations ? and what 
 is there in them about which to reason ? The Apostle Paul, (to 
 whose statements Dr. A. refers,) speaks of men's " consciences 
 bearing witness," and of 'their " reasonings between one another 
 (f/STaBv dMrjAwj' twv Xoytcn](bv) accusing or vindicating; " but 
 when he so speaks, both the testimony and the reasonings relate to 
 the moral qualities of actions. I submit these few observations, 
 with all diffidence, to the consideration of Dr. Abercrombie's own 
 mind. 
 
 There is another point and one of still greater importance, on 
 which I am reluctantly constrained to differ from him. In the ac- 
 count which he gives of conscience, as the presiding and regulating 
 power in the moral constitution of man, it does not appear to me, 
 that there is a correct impression of the degree in which that faculty, 
 (call it what you will,) has been affected by the entrance of sin. 
 One would be tempted to think that it is regarded as having escaped 
 the general depravation, and as still sitting the uncorrupted censor of 
 all the other powers and passions of the soul. But this, surely, is 
 a great mistake. In evidence of this, I make my appeal, at once 
 and without reserve, to the first and highest of all principles. Be- 
 lieving, as I do, the love of God to be the fundamental principle of 
 all morals, I have simply to ask Dr. Abercrombie how conscience 
 stands affected in relation to it ? Is there amongst mankind any 
 thing at all approaching to a due sensibility of the evil involved in 
 the absence or the deficiency of this principle ? How is it abroad ? 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 349 
 
 how is it at home ? Without adverting to the fearful aberrations 
 from all right conceptions of the true God among the heathen, and 
 the moral origin of such aberrations, — ,1 now ask, how the fact is, 
 when the character and claims of this true God are brought before 
 them ? Is it easy to procure a concession of the claims, or to pro- 
 duce a penitential sense of the evil of having violated them, and an 
 adequate impression of their paramount imperativeness ? And at 
 home, — where lies the grand difficulty with the teachers of Chris- 
 tianity, — ; with the inculcators of the high and authoritative morality 
 of the word of God? Where, but in the sluggish inertness, the 
 callous unimpressibleness, of the conscience, in regard to this first 
 principle of moral obligation ? How little is it at all thought of in 
 the estimate of character ! how superlatively difficult to procure for 
 it its proper place, — to prevail with men to admit, I say not its 
 absolute supremacy, but even its indispensable necessity ! How 
 comes it, that conscience has not, all along and everywhere, with 
 authoritative and effective voice, said to men, — ■" Thou shalt love 
 the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul ? " 
 How comes it, that it has not, all along and everywhere, condemned 
 the absence of this love as the most flagrant and deeply criminal of 
 all the breaches of moral obligation ? Has this been like the opera- 
 tion of an unfallen principle ? It is here, on the contrary, that its 
 grand failure lies, in the very department where lies the essence of 
 human corruption. 
 
 There are passages in Dr. Abercrombie's work, which contain 
 most correct and Scriptural statements of the tendencies of human 
 nature. My only wonder is, that, with the views which these pas- 
 sages unfold, he should hold conscience, in fallen man, quite so high 
 as he does, as an authoritative standard of moral rectitude. When 
 treating, and treating admirably well, of the moral influence of the 
 great trufhs relative to the perfections of Deity; and of the incum- 
 bent duty of a " careful direction of the mind to such truths, so as to 
 enable them to act as moral causes in the mental economy ; " 
 causes, " from which," he shows, " by the established order of mor- 
 al sequences, the emotions naturally follow;" and from the emo- 
 tions, cherished with satisfaction and reverence, a corresponding 
 influence upon the heart and character," the excellent author writes 
 as follows: — " But the first step in this important process may be 
 neglected; the mind may not be directed with due care to the truths 
 which thus claim its highest regard, — and the natural result is a 
 
 30 
 
350 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 corresponding deficiency in the emotions and conduct which ought 
 to flow from them. This will be the case in a still higher degree, 
 if there has been formed any actual derangement of the moral condi- 
 tion; if deeds have been committed, or even desires cherished, by 
 which the indications of conscience have been violated. The moral 
 harmony of the mind is then lost; and, however slight may be the 
 first impression, a morbid influence has begun to operate in the 
 mental economy, which tends gradually to gain streugth, until it 
 becomes a ruling principle in the whole character. The truths con- 
 nected with the divine perfections are now neither invited nor cher- 
 ished, but are felt to be intruders which disturb the mental tranquillity. 
 The attention ceases to be directed to them, and the corresponding 
 emotions vanish from the mind. Such appears to be the moral his- 
 tory of those who, in the striking language of the sacred writings, 
 ■ do not like to retain God in their knowledge.' 
 
 When the moral harmony of the mind has been impaired to this 
 extent, another mental condition arises, according to the wondrous 
 system of moral sequences. This consists in a distortion of the 
 understanding itself, regarding the first great principles of moral 
 truth. For, a fearless contemplation of the truth, respecting the 
 divine perfections, having become inconsistent with the moral con- 
 dition of the mind, there next arises a desire to discover a view of 
 them more in accordance with its own feelings. This is followed, 
 in due course, by a corresponding train of its own speculations; and 
 these, by a mind so prepared, are received as truth. The inventions 
 of the mind itself thus become the regulating principles of its emotions; 
 and this mental process, advancing from step to step, terminates in 
 moral degradation and anarchy." — pp. 159, 160. 
 
 I have here only to ask two simple questions. In the first place, 
 "When the Apostle, in the words quoted, says, " They did not like 
 to retain God in their knowledge," does he not describe the generic 
 character of mankind ? and in the mental process of degeneracy 
 which the above paragraphs so well delineate, is there not contained 
 the " moral history," not merely of individuals here and there, rare and 
 extraordinary exceptions, but of the species, of the entire race ; although 
 doubtless, in a country where revelation is enjoyed, and where by 
 many minds the knowledge which it communicates is possessed, 
 while the heart remains estranged from its' moral influence, and may 
 «ven for a time appear to exert a salutary restraining energy, such as 
 temptation, may gradually weaken and destroy, — exemplifications of 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 351 
 
 the melancholy tendency downward may be expected of a peculiarly 
 striking character ? And, secondly, If there are in human nature 
 such tendencies, — tendencies to such disregard and forgetfulness of 
 the great truths of God, as to banish from the mind the emotion they 
 are fitted to engender, and even to produce a distortion of the under- 
 standing itself respecting these great truths, and a desire after views 
 of them in accordance with the heart's own perverted feelings ; — if, 
 I say, these things be indeed so, — how can we place anything like 
 implicit reliance on conscience, as an infallible standard of right 
 and wrong ? 
 
 In the Eclectic Review for January, 1S34, there is an article on 
 the "Christian Ethics," with the general strain of which I have every 
 reason to be more than satisfied. I forbear of course all laudatory 
 epithets, lest I should expose myself to the sarcastic application of 
 the poet's lines — 
 
 ■' For 't is a rule that ever will hold true, 
 
 Grant me discernment, and 1 grant it you." 
 
 On the subject of conscience, the reviewer, who dissents from my 
 opinion, thus exppesses himself : — " Nor can we approve of his defi- 
 nition of conscience, as the mere ' exercise of the judgment in the 
 department of morals.' The objection urged by Dr. Payne against 
 this definition is, we must think, unanswerable : — ' My judgment 
 pronounces the conduct of a friend to be wrong ; but it cannot be 
 said that my conscience condemns him.' " I should have been 
 glad, had the respected critic pointed out to me the fallacy of the 
 answer which I have attempted to give to this objection. He has 
 not done this ; and as I am not myself sensible of any fallacy, the 
 objection, " I must think," is not unanswerable. When Dr. Payne 
 says, " My judgment pronounces the conduct of a friend to be wrong," 
 he seems to me to concede the general point, that the discernment 
 between the right and wrong of actions pertains to the judgment; 
 and, if it pertains to the judgment in regard to the actions of others, 
 why should there be required another faculty for such discernment in 
 regard to our own ? I am unable to perceive any flaw in the con- 
 clusion I have drawn from this admission : — " If conscience, in- 
 deed, is at all to be considered as including in its appropriate function 
 the determination of right and wrong, — then it seems to me to be a 
 self-evident truth, that the same faculty of mind which pronounces 
 the sentence of right or wrong on the actions of others, must neces- 
 sarily be that which which pronounces similar sentence upon our own. 
 
352 Notes and illustrations. 
 
 If it be judgment in the one case, it must be judgment in the other; 
 the sentence not depending on the person by whom the action is done, 
 but on the nature of the action itself." 
 
 According to the reviewer, conscience, whether in unfallen or fal- 
 len creatures, is simply the " consciousness of moral accounta- 
 bleness." " Remorse," says he, " differs from conscience, in 
 being a consciousness not merely of responsibility, but of guilt. A 
 tender conscience, that is, a deep and vivid sense of accountableness 
 to God, may consist with a very erroneous because ill-informed judg- 
 ment as to right and wrong. Surely, then, conscience cannot be 
 identical with judgment; cannot consist in it. In other words, con- 
 science is not the mind judging of the right or wrong of our own ac- 
 tions, but is the mind knowing and considering, that, for choosing and 
 doing the right or the wrong, we are accountable to the Author of our 
 being. In a holy being, this sense of accountableness, connected with 
 conscious rectitude, and the enjoyment of the divine favor, must be an 
 element of perfect happiness. In a sinful being, " it is that which 
 makes conscious guilt a source of torment." 
 
 On this statement I beg leave, with due submission, to offer the 
 following suggestions. First, it contains a distinct admission, that 
 the discrimination of the right and the wrong in human actions be- 
 longs to the province of judgment. If, therefore, I am in error, my 
 error regards not the actual mental process, but the mere question of 
 nomenclature, whether such discrimination should or should not be 
 included among the functions expressed by the term conscience. 
 Secondly, Neither, according to this definition, does conscience in- 
 clude at all the sensibility to emotions, pleasurable or painful, when 
 good or evil has been done; for " remorse differs from conscience, in 
 being a consciousness not merely of responsibility, but of guilt," 
 This (to apply the critic's own terms in regard to my incidental and 
 I think justifiable use of a particular term) — this is " a very unusu- 
 al, and (we submit) inaccurate use of the word." Remorse, as- 
 suredly, is not the mere " consciousness of guilt." It is, as Dr. 
 Payne expresses it, " the dreadful feeling of regret and self-condem- 
 nation, which arises upon the retrospect of our guilt; " or, as Dr. 
 Johnson has it, in the shortest possible form, " pain of guilt." Ac- 
 cording to the critic's definition, then, conscience neither includes 
 the judicial decision on the right and wrong of actions, nor the sus- 
 ceptibility of consequent emotions; the one, or the other, or both of 
 which have generally (as far as I am aware universally) been con* 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 353 
 
 sidered as belonging to its proper province. Thirdly, If conscience 
 be simply the " consciousness of accountableness," it is indeed per- 
 fectly true that " a tender conscience, that is, a deep and vivid 
 sense of accountableness to God, may consist with a very erroneous 
 because ill-informed judgment as to right and wrong;" but then, this 
 is giving up conscience altogether as a standard or criterion of right 
 and wrong. It is no longer a law, nor a regulator, nor an inward 
 monitor. If it " bears witness," as Paul affiims it does, it is only 
 to man's responsibility, not at all to the moral qualities of the actions 
 for which he is responsible. On these it is the judgment that de- 
 cides; and the office of conscience is only to make the agent sensi- 
 ble of accountableness for what that faculty pronounces right or 
 wrong. In as far, then, as conscience is concerned, what becomes 
 of man's being " a law unto himself? " It is judgment alone that 
 makes him so; inasmuch as conscience, even in its " best estate," 
 — a " tender conscience," — a " deep and vivid sense of accounta- 
 bleness to God," may subsist and be in exercise, and yet leave the 
 subject of it " very ill-informed as to the law of right and wrong." 
 Fourthly, To me, I confess, it appears, that even that which by the 
 critic is assigned to conscience, as its peculiar and distinctive func- 
 tion, must be regarded as an intellectual operation of the mind, or an 
 exercise of the judgment. "Conscience," says he, "is not the 
 mind judging of the right or wrong of our own actions, but is the 
 mind knowing and considering that for choosing or doing the right or 
 the wrong, we are accountable to the Author of our being." — 
 " Knowing " is a mental exercise or state purely intellectual. " Con- 
 sidering " is an operation of the judging faculty ; for, although it 
 may sometimes express simple attention, yet in the connection in 
 which it here stands, it clearly involves our applying the idea of ac- 
 countableness to our conduct, and forming a judgment of the influ- 
 ence which it ought to have upon it, and of the consequences result- 
 ing from our acting in conformity with that influence, or in opposition 
 to it. Were the accountableness, which in the discharge of the 
 proper functions of conscience, the mind is represented as "knowing 
 and considering," made the subject of question, to what faculty but 
 to the judgment should we make our appeal, in order to produce, to 
 restore, or to impress the conviction of it? I must still, then, con- 
 sider conscience as the judgment of right and wrong, associated 
 with the susceptibility of corresponding emotions of pleasure or 
 *30 
 
354 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 pain when right or wrong is done by us, — emotions which, I readily 
 admit, arise chiefly from a sense of accountableness. 
 
 It gave me pleasure to find one reviewer at least concurring with 
 me in identifying conscience with judgment. I refer to the British 
 Critic : — " We have much satisfaction," says the reviewer in that 
 periodical, " in expressing our concurrence in Dr. Wardlaw's no- 
 tions in regard to conscience, as an exercise of the judgment on our 
 own actions, and as thereby differing from the moral sense of Hutch- 
 eson and the original emotions of Dr. Brown." The reviewer 
 objects to even the inclusion of the susceptibility of emotion in our 
 idea of conscience : " Some writers, indeed, have attempted to 
 separate in conscience the power that determines from the power 
 which feels; ascribing the former to the judgment, and the latter to 
 a special susceptibility connected with our moral discernment. But 
 we should object to this multiplication of original faculties; for, as 
 most of our intellectual operations are accompanied with feelings of 
 pleasure or pain, admiration or disgust, approbation or dislike, we 
 should soon find ourselves reduced to the necessity of creating as 
 many distinct sources of emotion as there are distinguishable acts of 
 the rational energies." — No. XXX. p. 333. But it is not here de- 
 nied that the susceptibility exists, and actually belongs to the mental 
 process; and if it exists, and is quite of a special nature, the emo- 
 tion arising from conscious right or wrong being one which is decid- 
 edly unique in its character, so that there is no danger of confound- 
 ing it with any other, — then, whether we call it a separate power,— 
 a distinct original faculty, or not, there does not seem to be any 
 sufficiently valid objection to its being included in the function of 
 conscience. 
 
 There are two points, on which, though they have no immediate 
 relation to the subject of conscience, I may embrace the present op- 
 portunity of offering a few observations, in reply to the censorial 
 
 strictures of this critic The first relates to the influence of the 
 
 depravity of human nature in biasing and perverting the judgment 
 on moral subjects. I am not about to enter into any labored de- 
 fence of my statements on this point, which stand in my mind alto- 
 gether unshaken by any of the reviewer's objections. He admits 
 indeed the principle in specific cases, while he appears to question and 
 gainsay its more general application; which I cannot but think rather 
 strange in one who considers conscience as the same with judgment, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 355 
 
 and who does not controvert my views of human depravity; seeing all 
 depravity of principle must unavoidably tend to the perversion of the 
 judgment on subjects in which that depravity is concerned. To ad- 
 mit the operation of this principle in specific cases, and at the same 
 time question it in its general application, does not seem very con- 
 sistent ; the specific cases being in fact no more than exemplifica- 
 tions of a tendency that must be as universal as the depravity. In 
 allusion to a comparison which I had used, the reviewer says — " It 
 is true that the jaundiced eye could not judge well of colors in any 
 particular case, no more than the opinion of a very bad man could 
 be relied on in any special occurrence where his own passions were 
 concerned." And again, "As to the judgment which a man pro- 
 nounces upon his own conduct, where there is any ground for doubt, 
 it must be at once acknowledged that no decision could be more fal- 
 lacious. The judge is prepossessed, and his opinion must go for 
 nothing. In this case the depravity and imperfection which adhere 
 to our nature preclude the possibility of deriving from it a standard 
 of moral rectitude as applicable to practice." — Pp. 326, 327, 319. 
 In these sentences the principle for which I contend is clearly and 
 pointedly admitted in regard to the exercise of the judgment in its 
 decisions on particular cases. Now all that I contend for is its gen- 
 eralization. My position is, that there is the same kind of tendency 
 in the general principles of depravity to exert an undue influence 
 upon the mind in regard to the general principles, obligations, and 
 laws of rectitude, as there is in any particular passion, or any par- 
 ticular feeling of self-interest, to exert such an influence in regard to 
 any particular action or course of conduct. The only question 
 seems to be, whether human nature be depraved; whether all man- 
 kind, as partakers of that nature, are really the subjects of alienation 
 from God, and of tendencies to evil. If they are, — then, surely, 
 so far as it is so, their opinions and decisions are not to be implicitly 
 trusted to on subjects that interfere with those tendencies. 
 
 But the critic argues thus : — "As a man who has never enjoyed 
 the blessing of sight may discuss in a satisfactory manner the origin 
 and relations of colors; and as an individual whose sensibility to 
 flavor has become dead or depraved, may nevertheless be a master 
 in the doctrine of relishes; so many an author produces a good work 
 on the philosophy of ethics, though his conduct and affections be 
 most alien to virtue. In none of these cases is a standard to be 
 
356 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 taken from what the persons in question do or feel, but from the con- 
 clusions to which they are carried by logical reasoning and legitimate 
 inference." — P. 327. 
 
 Now of the statement contained in the last short sentence, I most 
 readily admit the truth. I have nowhere said, that "a standard is 
 to be taken from what such men, or any men, do or feel; " my sole 
 question has been, how far "the conclusions to which they are car- 
 ried," are not liable to be affected by the general principles and ten- 
 dencies of a vitiated nature; just as, it is admitted, " the opinions of 
 a bad man " may be affected, " in any special occurrence," by the 
 particular passions which such occurrence brings into play. I am 
 very well aware of the frequent difference between a man's life and 
 his writings; how frequently the latter may be theoretically right, 
 while the former is practically wrong. I am aware, that a man ad- 
 dicted to swearing may indite a good treatise against profaneness; 
 that an intemperate man may write powerfully in favor of sobriety; 
 and that a man of vicious character may be found to reason well on 
 the general principles of morals. But such instances never shake 
 the ascertained principle that a Hieing to a particular evil is apt to 
 affect the judgment regarding it, and to plead in mitigation of the 
 sentence against it — and that general profligacy has the same ten- 
 dency in regard to general evil. To bring the question to a point. 
 The Apostle Paul says, "the carnal mind is enmity against God." 
 If, in saying so, he gives the character of human nature, is there no 
 tendency in this enmity to influence the decision of the judgment 
 respecting the affections and the conduct due to God ? Is not the 
 first thing done with every witness that comes into the witness-box, in 
 trials before a human tribunal, to ascertain that he is under the influ- 
 ence of no "malice or ill-will" against the prisoner at the bar? 
 Such malice would vitiate his testimony. It is on the same principle, 
 that " enmity in the heart against God " must be regarded as subvert- 
 ing confidence in the judgment of mankind on the fundamental prin- 
 ciples of morals. — "In reviewing the systems of Zeno, Hobbes, 
 Hume, Hazlett, or Bentham, we give ourselves no trouble to inquire 
 whether the lives of these writers were in all respects conformable to 
 just rules; retaining in mind the obvious distinction between a theory 
 of morals proposed to the consideration of the schools, and a set of 
 precepts meant for regulating the discharge of the duties of life." — 
 P. 327. And yet it might not be an inappropriate or unprofitable 
 inquiry, how far the systems of such philosophers were affected by 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 357" 
 
 that principle of evil of which we have just spoken, and which con- 
 stitutes the sad characteristic of man's fallen nature. Is it usual for 
 men of infidel principles, or of philosophic impiety, to lay the founda- 
 tion of their moral systems, for example, in supreme love to God ? 
 Will the reviewer venture to say, that their speculations, in this and 
 other respects, are not at all affected by their state of heart and their 
 character ? If he does, I must be allowed to refer him to his Bible 
 for a better knowledge of human nature. 
 
 After expressing his agreement with me as to the nature of con- 
 science, he quotes a passage of some length, and then subjoins — 
 "Here Dr..W. deserves praise for being right, but not for being 
 strictly consistent. He gives conscience a higher office and author- 
 ity than can properly belong to the mental constitution of a creature 
 so radically depraved as he usually represents man to be. But he in- 
 directly acknowledges that, though the disposition may be corrupt, 
 the judgment may be pure and accurate ; and that it is perfectly pos- 
 sible to distinguish between them. A bad man may therefore theo- 
 rize on moral science as wisely and conclusively as the most pious of 
 philosophers. The only difference is, that the emotions in the 
 breast of the one will have little resemblance to those excited in the 
 other." — Pp. 332, 333. — I have read the passage quoted; and can 
 find in it no such acknowledgment, direct or indirect, as imputed to 
 me. I can never admit, that a " corrupt disposition " can subsist 
 without exerting any influence upuii ihe purity and accuracy of the 
 judgment on subjects to which the disposition relates: — and I may 
 safely challenge the reviewer to point out any passage where such 
 admission if contained. I have not, however, entered into any dis- 
 cussion of the direct influence of the fall on man's intellectual powers. 
 The only influence of which I have treated is the influence of per- 
 verted moral dispositions upon their exercise and their decisions on 
 moral subjects. — If indeed I have " confounded those views of morality 
 which respect the practical conduct of life, with the more recondite 
 disquisitions on ethics regarded as a science, of which the object is 
 to determine the abstract qualities, so to speak, of good and evil, in 
 connection with certain feelings and judgments of the human mind," 
 and by so doing have " led myself and my readers into much un- 
 necessary perplexity;" — then have I egregiously failed in one of 
 my leading and contemplated objects. To myself it appears, that 
 the very quotations made by the reviewer might be adduced as 
 proofs of the contrary. But the decision rests not of course with me. 
 
358 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 This leads me to notice a second general and pervading allegation 
 in the critique: it is expressed thus — " That Dr. W. holds a place 
 among those who have not formed a correct notion of the objects 
 contemplated by the moral philosopher, will appear manifest to every 
 one who reads his book with attention." — Page 323. How far 
 this imputation does not fall with more justice upon the critic him- 
 self, a few observations may suffice to show. The critic concurs in 
 sentiment with the anonymous writer of the article Moral Philoso~ 
 phy hi the Encyclopedia Britannica, when that writer says — 
 "Moral philosophy inquires, not how man might have been, but how 
 he is, constituted; not into what principles his actions may be artful- 
 ly resolved, but from what principles and dispositions they actually 
 flow." He expresses his concurrence in these terms — " Our busi- 
 ness, in the several fields of geology, of animal nature, and of moral 
 science, is to mark the properties of things as they actually present 
 themselves, without presuming to decide whether they are what God 
 meant them to be or not." — Page 324. Now, whatever may be 
 the case in regard to geology and animal nature, it does appear tome, 
 in regard to " moral science," that if we have not in view, in the 
 investigation of things as they actually present themselves," to as- 
 certain " whether they are what God meant them to be, or other' 
 wise,'"' — the only object in such science that is at all worthy of pur- 
 suit, or entitles it to the designation, is entirely left out of sight. 
 The ultimate object uf all um im^uiiics on such subjects should sure- 
 ly be, not to determine what is, but what ought to be. This I con- 
 ceive to be the appropriate aim of all moral science; to ascertain the 
 original grounds of moral obligation, as well as the law of the crea- 
 ture's duty. The question, therefore, is, whether from the investiga- 
 tion of what is, in human nature " as it now actually presents itself," 
 there are correct and sufficient data for determining what ought to 
 be. If not, our investigation conducts us to no conclusion that is 
 worth the finding, — at any rate, not to the conclusion at which mor- 
 al science ought to aim. We settle certain facts; but we determine 
 no general principles. 
 
 " It will be admitted, too, we are persuaded," says the reviewer, 
 "upon suitable reflection, that human nature in its present state is 
 the proper subject of ethical investigation; because it is only as con- 
 nected with its actual feelings, propensities, and wants, that it can be 
 viewed as the basis of a consistent theory of morals: " — and again, 
 " there is no other basis on which the ethical philosopher can rear a 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 359 
 
 scientific structure. If * man be the proper study of man,' it must 
 be man as he really exists; displaying his powers, passions, and pro- 
 pensities in connection with the various demands of society, and 
 even with the qualities of the material world which influence so 
 deeply his character and his destination." — Pp. 320, 331. Beit 
 so, that the study of man must be the study of man as he is — for 
 to us, what else can it be ? — still the question recurs, whether from 
 this study of man as he is, the philosopher can arrive at the correct 
 and certain knowledge of what he ought to be. It is the very de- 
 sign of the earlier Lectures in the Christian Ethics, to show how 
 inadequate and insecure, as a basis of moral theorizing, human na- 
 ture in its present condition actually is; to evince that it has been, in 
 part at least, from this very cause, — from their seeking in it the 
 principles of their moral theories, — that philosophers have so egre- 
 giously failed and erred; and hence to manifest the impropriety of 
 separating ethical science from theology, and framing theories on 
 principles excogitated by philosophy independently of the dictates of 
 revelation. And between the law of duty and the theoretical prin- 
 ciples of moral obligation, I have endeavored carefully to discrimi- 
 nate: — with whatsuccess, it is not'mine to determine. 
 
 In a favorite analogy of the reviewer, to which he more than 
 once recurs, there appears to me to lurk a fallacy. "The studies," 
 says he, " of the geologist, the chemist, and the botanist, might be 
 met with an objection similar to that started by Dr. W. against the 
 researches of the speculative moralist. The terraqueous globe, it 
 may be said, is no longer what it was when it proceeded from the 
 hand of the great Creator. It bears upon it the marks of a curse. 
 The surface is torn and shattered, and the strata which compose its 
 inward parts are dislocated, bent, and in many instances removed 
 from their original position. To obtain a true theory of the earth, 
 therefore, we ought, it might be asserted, to ascend to the era of its 
 primitive order and beauty ; for at present we contemplate only the 
 ruins of a magnificent system, from the study of which we can 
 barely conjecture what it must have been before it was subjected 
 to that violence of which it everywhere exhibits the marks." — 
 Page 321. 
 
 I take the case of the geologist, to avoid prolixity, and as being 
 obviously the most appropriate. The accuracy of the analogy de- 
 pends, of course, entirely on the sameness or the discrepancy of 
 the objects, respectively, of the geologist and the moralist. If the 
 
360 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 object of the latter be indeed no more than to ascertain, as a ques- 
 tion of fact, what human nature noiv is, — 'not how it was, but how 
 it now is constituted, — I have nothing to say. But if the object of 
 the ethical philosopher be, from what human nature is, to ascertain, 
 what are the great general principles of moral rectitude, or, in the 
 language of the reviewer, "to discover the grounds on which the 
 legislation of virtue and \ice has its original basis," then the com- 
 parison is inappropriate and fallacious. Suppose there were certain 
 great principles, (if I may so express myself,) of physical recti- 
 tudes-principles of creation, — to be ascertained by "drilling 
 and boring the solid earth," and examining its strata, its exuviae, and 
 all the arcana of its present structure, the analogy would be suffi- 
 ciently appropriate. And if it be so that "the surface is torn and 
 shattered, and the strata which compose its inward parts dislocated, 
 bent, and in many instances removed from their original position; " 
 if it be so, that we now "contemplate only the ruins of a magnifi- 
 cent system; " then, assuredly, there are such principles of creation 
 or of world-making — such principles of physical rectitude, of which 
 we may form a very inadequate and even erroneous conception from 
 the mere geological examination of the earth as it is. Now, 
 whether there be any such ulterior object in geology or not, as that 
 of rising from facts to principles, certainly there is in moral science. 
 There is, I repeat, the deduction from what is of what ought to be, 
 — the deduction of the true principles of morals: — and this will be 
 found to amount to much the same thing with ascertaining the moral 
 nature of Deity — the characters of that infinite Being, who is the 
 eternal prototype of all rectitude in his creatures. The question is, 
 whether these things are capable of being ascertained from the ex- 
 amination of human nature as it at present appears, — the examina- 
 tion being at the same time conducted by an examinator, who is 
 himself a subject of the very evil propensities by which the nature is 
 characterized. " I trow not." 
 
 The reviewer speaks of my mind being " cramped by my narrow 
 views." I can only say, that my sincere wish and prayer are, to 
 have views neither wider nor narrower, on all such subjects, than 
 the Christian standard of truth warrants. I have already thanked 
 him for correcting a mistake into which I had inadvertently fallen, 
 with regard to the phraseology of Dr. Brown ; and I desire to be 
 kept open to conviction on more important points, and to reckon 
 every man my friend who displaces error from my mind, and sub- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS 361 
 
 stitutes truth. As to " flippancy " (Rev. p. 330,) I freely con- 
 fess I was not prepared for any charge of that kind. I have studied 
 my own character very unsuccessfully, if it belongs to me; and I 
 blushed to see it associated with my name. I can assure the re- 
 viewer, there never were strictures written with more self-diffidence 
 than those on Butler; and I have the comfort of believing that the 
 reviewer stands alone in the imputation. 
 
 NOTE M. Page. 179. 
 
 It is impossible to imagine anything more pregnant, not with 
 absurdity only, but with profanity, than some of the assertions which 
 have been made, both with regard to the Divine power in the natural 
 world, and to the Divine will in the moral world, by mystics who 
 have thought that they were giving God glory. When, for exam- 
 ple, it has been conceived necessary to omnipotence, that it should 
 be able to effect contradictions, — such as making a thing to be 
 and not to be at the same time, — or to be in two places at 
 once, — or not to be where it is, — or to be greater or less than 
 itself, — or two and two to be more or fewer than four, &c. &c. 
 To assert the ability of the Divine power to effect sach thing?, is 
 mere burlesque. The omnipotence of God is his ability to do what- 
 ever can be conceived of by the most perfect mind. But contra- 
 dictions, from their very nature, never can be so conceived of. The 
 truth is, such contradictions are absolutely nothing:. — being con- 
 trary to the immutable nature of things, they are destructive of 
 themselves; so that a power to do them is a power to do — nothing. 
 And the same thing is true of suppositions made respscting the abso- 
 lute supremacy of the Divine will over good and evil right and 
 wrong in the moral world. When the lengths to which these 
 suppositions have gone is considered, it is not without reason that 
 Sir James Mackintosh speaks of the doctrine which " represents mo- 
 rality to be founded in will " as " the most pernicious of moral here- 
 sies." We cannot have a better illustration of the grossness of its 
 folly, or the undesigned though real profanity of its tendencies, than 
 the sentiment which he quotes from "William of Ockham, the 
 most justly celebrated of English schoolmen," — that "if God had 
 
 31 
 
362 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATION^. 
 
 commanded his creatures to hate himself, the hatred of God would 
 ever be the duty of man." Having cited this sentiment, Sir James 
 adds — "A monstrous hyperbole, into which he was perhaps be- 
 trayed by his denial of the doctrine of general ideas, the pre-exist- 
 ence of which in the Eternal Intellect, was commonly regarded as 
 the foundation of the immutable nature of morality. The doctrine 
 of Ockham, which, by necessary implication, refuses moral attri- 
 butes to the Deity, and contradicts the existence of a moral govern- 
 ment, is practically equivalent to atheism. As all devotional feel- 
 ings have moral qualities for their sole objects; as no being can 
 inspire love or reverence otherwise than by those qualities which are 
 naturally amiable or venerable, this doctrine would, if men were 
 consistent, extinguish piety, or, in other words, annihilate religion. 
 Yet, so astonishing are the contradictions of human nature, that this 
 most impious of all opinions, probably originated in a pious solici- 
 tude to magnify the sovereignty of God, and to exalt his authority 
 even above his own goodness." — Prelim. Diss. p. 310. 
 
 The sentiment that virtue is founded in the Divine will is ably 
 combated by Dr. Dwight, in the ninety-ninth sermon of his Theolo- 
 gy. The consequences arising from it are vividly traced; while the 
 distinction between virtue being founded in the will of God in regard 
 to its essential principles, and the will of God being the rule or law 
 of duty to his creatures, is kept clearly in view. It should be regard- 
 ed by us as being quite as great a contradiction in the department of 
 morals, to speak of God changing, by arbitrary will, the nature of 
 moral rectitude, as in the department of geometry it would be a 
 contradiction to speak of the possible converse of any of its axiomatic 
 principles. It would be to suppose Deity, indeed, to change, by a 
 volition his own essential and necessary moral nature. 
 
 NOTE N. Page 183. 
 
 There certainly is no subject on which it is easier for us to get 
 beyond our depth, than this, of the necessity of the Divine existence 
 and attributes. In illustration of the remark, may, perhaps be ap- 
 propriately noticed, the statement of Dr. Clarke as to necessity of 
 existence — that it is not a property consequent upon the supposition 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 363 
 
 of the thing existing, but antecedently (not indeed in time, for 
 nothing can precede eternity, but in the order of nature,) antece- 
 dently the cause or ground of that existence. This is exceedingly- 
 subtile. I confess myself quite at a loss for a clear apprehension of 
 his meaning; or rather, I should perhaps say, of the possibility of 
 what he means; — of an abstract necessity, possessing an antecedent 
 existence, as the ground or cause of the very existence, to which, at 
 the same time, as a property it pertains ! But, while I cannot 
 comprehend this, T shall not attempt to make the matter plainer; 
 for I cannot think a thought about it without losing myself; and to 
 roam through " wandering mazes," where we can "find no end," 
 but must only have the trouble of groping our way back again, is, 
 to say the least, an unprofitable employment. 
 
 If ever there was a mind capable of constructing a clear demon- 
 stration a priori of the being and attributes of God, it was, perhaps, 
 the mind of this acute philosophical divine. I confess myself, how- 
 ever, to be more than sceptical as to the possibility of constructing 
 such an argument, — one that is, in all respects, entitled to the de- 
 signation. If I have any right conception at all of an argument 
 a priori, it is an argument in which from certain principles or premi- 
 ses, we draw a conclusion as to something that must be, indepen- 
 dently of all opportunity of observing or ascertaing what actually is. 
 For example: — Assuming the existence of an intelligent Being, 
 possessed of perfect wisdom, we conclude that in the works of such 
 an intelligence, there must, in every instance, be found the perfection 
 of skill. We conclude this a priori ; that is, previously to our at 
 all examining, or having any opportunity to examine the works 
 themselves. The difference between this and the argument a pos- 
 teriori, is manifest from their very designations. In the latter, we 
 are supposed to know the works, and to infer, from the existing 
 marks of skill, the previous existence and operation of a wise intelli- 
 gence. In the former we reason forward; in the latter backward: 
 in the former, from what is to what must be; in the latter, from 
 what is to what must have been. Now, in these circumstances, — . 
 supposing this idea of an a, priori argument to be a correct one, I 
 am unable to form the most remote conception of such an argument 
 for the Divine existence. The reason is, that there is no principle 
 whatever which can be imagined previous to it, from which the 
 conclusion might be drawn; a previous necessity being an abstrac- 
 tion of which no conception can be formed by any mind. — Assum- 
 
364 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 ing the existence of such a Being, I can form to myself the concep- 
 tion of certain a priori inferences respecting the qualities which must 
 belong to his nature: — but previously to, and independently of, that 
 existence, I cannot conceive of anything from which it could possibly 
 be inferred. The postulate, that something now is, is, I grant, a 
 postulate which no man can refuse whose intellect is sound. But 
 still, it is a postulate. It is the assumption of something present, 
 from which we proceed to reason to something past. The argu- 
 ment goes backivard, — from what now is, to what has been. The 
 argument for the existence of Deity drawn from the postulate that 
 something now is, is precisely the same in kind with the argument 
 for the intelligence of Deity drawn from the postulate that some- 
 thing indicative of design now is. When it is said, Something 
 now is, therefore something must always have been, it is as really 
 an argument a posteriori, as when we say, Here are marks of de- 
 sign, therefore there must have been a designer. The only differ- 
 ence is, that the one relates to simple being, the other to character. 
 They both alike go backward from the present to the past, from 
 what is to what must have been. 
 
 Space and duration are, in their nature, however seemingly sim- 
 ple, really very abstruse. Although they be necessary to our con- 
 ceptions of all other existence, they cannot (as far as I can see) be 
 grounds on which the necessity of any other existence can legiti- 
 mately be deduced. To say that space itself is necessary, and that 
 the existence of which it is a property must possess the same neces- 
 sity, does not seem to the purpose : — because, whenever we speak 
 of a property of any existence, the existence of which it is a prop- 
 erty is already presupposed. But this is a very different thing 
 from the proposition, that, from the necessary existence of space, 
 there must necessarily arise the existence itself of a self-existent 
 intelligence. Here, I frankly own, I am not metaphysician enough 
 to discern the link of connection. 
 
 Sir James Mackintosh expresses the same opinion respecting this 
 celebrated argument, entertained by Reid, and Stewart, and others 
 before him : — " Roused by the prevalence of the doctrine of Spi- 
 noza and Hobbes, he (Clarke) endeavored to demonstrate the being 
 and attributes of God, from a few axioms and definitions, after the 
 manner of geometry: an attempt, in which, with all his powers of 
 argument, it must be owned that he is compelled sometimes tacitly 
 to assume what the laws of reasoning required him to prove; and 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 365 
 
 that, on the whole, his failure may be regarded as a proof that such 
 a mode of argument is beyond the faculties of man." — Prelim. 
 Diss. p. 327. 
 
 NOTE O. Page 219. 
 
 I have representated the religious principle, the love of God, as 
 the first principle of morals, and indispensable as the motive in all 
 that bears the name of virtue. Among the ingenious speculations 
 of Hartley, in which he endeavors to discover the origination, and 
 trace the progressive development, of the various passions, desires, 
 and affections of the human mind, by the law of association, we 
 find him representing piety, or, as he terms it, theopathy, as the last 
 hi order of the virtues thus generated. In the manner in which he 
 accounts, by a process equally natural according to his fundamental 
 law, for the origination both of the virtuous and vicious affections, 
 there is no recognition of the scripture doctrine of human depravity. 
 The religious affections, the love and the fear of God, are the pro- 
 duct of the same natural law of association by which all the rest 
 are explained. He admits, indeed, that " piety in general, and 
 among the bulk of mankind, is not had in great honor."* — But 
 how does he account for this ? Not from the depraved tendencies of 
 human nature, — not from the "enmity against God," which is 
 predicated of it in the Scriptures, and which it requires divine influ- 
 ence to counteract and cure; but, among other causes of a similar 
 complexion, from its being " in the order of our progress the last of 
 the virtues, so that, having few votaries, it must have few advo- 
 cates."! The other causes enumerated by him are such as imply no 
 dislike of true piety, but only of superstition, enthusiasm, and 
 hypocrisy. In making religion, by a process which begins with self, 
 and rises through the various gradations of the social affections, the 
 last of the virtues, which may ultimately swallow up all the others,— 
 it is assumed that the previous desires and passions and affections, 
 commonly reckoned among the virtues, are virtuous independently 
 of the religious principle, — and that the " theopathetic affection " 
 
 * Priestley's Hartley, p. 286. * Ibid. 
 
 *31 
 
366 
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 is only an additional one, of a higher order, and naturally generated 
 out of the rest. We are more than jealous of such a representation; 
 as if piety were only the last and loftiest height, to which we are to 
 mount through all the inferior grades of virtue. We must contend, 
 that in all these inferior virtues piety must be their spirit and princi- 
 ple to entitle them to the designation; — that, while there is, in the 
 fallen nature of man, a melancholy aversion to God and godliness, 
 yet, by his blessing on parental tuition, the simple principles of piety 
 may be introduced to influential operation at a very early stage, and 
 that God may thus "perfect praise out of the mouths of babes and 
 sucklings." — At all events, the whole system is out of order, when 
 piety, instead of being introduced at the root, to pervade, with its 
 vivifying and fructifying influence, the whole tree, in its great 
 branches and remotest twigs is to he looked for at the top, after the 
 consummation of its growth, — as the crowning fruit, rather than as 
 the productive germ, — as the completion of human excellence 
 and human happiness, rather than as the first principle of human 
 duty. 
 
 A similar objection may be considered as lying against the state- 
 ment contained in the closing sentence of Sir James Mackintosh's 
 summary of the moral theory of Butler, in which, from subsequent 
 expressions of his own, the commentator appears to acquiesce : — 
 " Moral distinctions are thuspre-supposcd, before a step can be made 
 towards religion : virtue leads to piety : God is to be loved, because 
 goodness is the object of love ; and it is only after the mind rises through 
 human morality to divine perfection, that all the virtues and duties 
 are seen to hang from the throne of God." — Prelim. Dissert. 
 p. 345. Thus we have virtue without piety; — morality independent 
 of, and introductory to, religion; — and love to an abstract goodness 
 as the foundation and reason of our love to God, although it is in the 
 eternal and necessary nature of God that all goodness has its origin 
 and its prototype, and although it is its conformity to this nature that 
 constitutes goodness what it is. Were not human nature in a fallen 
 and apostate condition, a sense of God would enter the soul with 
 the first dawn of reason, and "growing with its growth, and strength- 
 ening with its strength," would be the habitually controlling princi- 
 ple of every movement of the inner, and every action of the outer 
 man. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 367 
 
 NOTE P. Page 225. 
 
 In the sentence to which this note is affixed, the reader has a 
 summary of the doctrine it is my anxious desire to establish and 
 recommend in this Lecture, as well as generally throughout the vol- 
 ume : — il Ir religion and moral principle cannot exist together in 
 the same bosom ; for irreligion is the rejection of that authority in 
 which all moral obligation has its origin : — and to live without God 
 is necessarily to live ivithout virtue." In the Imperial Magazine 
 for January, amidst much that is favorable, for which I thank the 
 unknown reviewer, there is one general objection insisted upon, as, 
 to a certain extent, pervading and vitiating the whole work — name- 
 ly, that the subject is treated too theologically , — there being " an 
 almost exclusive attention to theology, and a neglect of the science 
 of ethics as a distinct science ; " — that the science of ethics " has 
 no place " assigned it " among pure and separate sciences ; " — 
 that, in a word, "the science of pure ethics has been left untouch- 
 ed." — This theological mode of contemplating and discussing the 
 subject, it is alleged, while it " stamps upon the work a high value 
 in its most important character, and prepares us to expect from it 
 much Christian instruction, still renders it improbable, that the sci- 
 ence of ethics will be recognized by the author distinctly and inde- 
 pendently, or at least that in that character it will receive justice at 
 his hands." — "After disclaiming all controversy with the atheist 
 and the infidel, and supposing in limine the authenticity and author- 
 ity of the Bible to be admitted, he proceeds in his first Lecture, to 
 lay down the respective provinces of philosophy and theology. And 
 here we think that his remarks first exhibit that almost exclusive at- 
 tention to theology, and that neglect of the science of ethics, as a 
 distinct science, to which we have already adverted. A few pas- 
 sages will exhibit clearly Dr. W.'s view of the 'respective prov- 
 inces ' of the two sciences. In our humble opinion, they go far to 
 show, that he assigns to one of them no province at all." — I 
 most readily grant it. It is my very object to show, that the science 
 of morals has " no province at all," independently of theology; and 
 that it cannot be philosophically discussed, except on theological 
 principles. The purport of the first Lecture is not, as the reviewer 
 has inaccurately expresssed it, to " lay down the respective prov- 
 inces of the two sciences," as if I admitted their mutually inde- 
 
368 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 pendent existence, that of morals as independent of theology, or 
 that of theology as independent of morals, and had in view to define 
 the bounding lines. No such thing. The object is to show, that 
 there can be no such bounding lines drawn between them; that the 
 separation is unreasonable and mischievous; and that that philosophy 
 is most unphilosophical, which, on such a subject, either fails to ex- 
 amine the claims of the sacred volume, or, when its claims have 
 been substantiated, refuses to bow to its authority. The observa- 
 tions of the reviewer have only served to impress me the more 
 strongly with the importance of maintaining the position which I 
 have assumed. I avow, without reserve, that I own no such science 
 as the "distinct and independent" science of "pure ethics," — that 
 is, of ethics independent of theology, — of morals independent of 
 religion. I am sorry that the light in which I have endeavored to 
 set this subject, in the first and seventh Lectures, should not have 
 met the approbation of the reviewer; for there is no point on which 
 I feel more solicitous that Christian students of the science of morals 
 should take the high ground which, it appears to me, the standard to 
 which they all appeal represents as the only legitimate one. 
 
 After a citation or two from Lect. I., the reviewer says: — "These 
 preliminary statements appear to us to proceed upon the assumption, 
 which we think erroneous, that the Bible contains all the principles 
 of ethics; in fact, that it (ethics) has no place among pure and sep- 
 arate sciences, — that it is not to be considered as that science which 
 teaches the social duties owed by man to man, and those alone; in 
 fact, they seem to deny that there is a set of principles on which 
 men owe duties to each other, irrespectively of their duty to the Su- 
 preme Being, and whether or not they know and believe in the one 
 true God." — They not only seem to deny it; they do do deny it: — 
 and the grounds of the denial are more fully brought out, whether 
 satisfactorily or not, in the seventh Lecture, " On the Identity of Mo- 
 rality and Religion." I acknowledge no " set of principles on 
 which men owe duties to each other, irrespectively of their duty to 
 the Supreme Being : " — for the duties which men owe to each other, 
 and the social principles from which they must be discharged, form 
 a part of the will of that Being; and it is as a part of his will, from 
 a due regard to his authority, that they must be done. My views on 
 this subject are summarily expressed in these sentences: — " Accord- 
 ing to the Scriptures, then, there is no morality without religion; for 
 of the two great principle* in which the law of God is summed up, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 369 
 
 the first is the religious principle. And it stands first, not as insulated 
 from the other, and capable of being neglected while the other is du- 
 ly obeyed; but as demanding the first attention, and indispensable to 
 that moral state of the heart, that is necessary to any acceptable obe- 
 dience whatever." — Lect. VII. I earnestly wish this position 
 sifted to the uttermost; being fully persuaded, that the more closely 
 it is investigated, the more strongly will it recommend itself to the 
 Christian mind, as the doctrine of the Holy Scriptures and of enlight- 
 ened reason. 
 
 I speak not now of the specialities of obligation to love God, 
 arising from the peculiar discoveries of the gospel. These are dis- 
 cussed in the concluding Lecture. But if the law of nature, or of 
 conscience, do not teach men who are destitute of revelation, that 
 love to God is the first and highest of their obligatory principles, and 
 the foundation of all the rest, — this is only an affecting evidence of 
 the degeneracy of their nature. It was not so originally. Love to 
 God was the fundamental and pervading principle of the entire sys- 
 tem of primitive morality. I have, therefore, no idea of its being 
 " more natural and nearer to the truth," as this reviewer alleges, 
 " to assign as the fundamental principle of ethical morality, the con- 
 formity of conduct to the dictates of conscience, leaving the further 
 instructions and precepts of Christianity as an independent and addi- 
 tional light, of which comparatively few are cognizant: " — because 
 either conscience dictates, independently of revelation, the love of 
 God as the principle of all virtue, or it does not. If it does, then 
 it establishes my position, that there is no morality without religion, 
 by recognizing the religious principle as the essential element of vir- 
 tue: — if it does not, are we to assume as the " fundamental princi- 
 ple of ethical morality " a faculty which (call it by what name you 
 will) leaves out, in its estimate of character, what, according to rev- 
 elation, is the first and most essential element in all moral duty ? It 
 is the sin and guilt of man, that conscience does not teach him this 
 elementary lesson, as well as revelation: and its failure in this is one 
 of the principal considerations by which its incompetency to be a 
 sure and adequate criterion, or standard, of moral rectitude, is 
 evinced. I have no conception of a system of "pure ethics," in 
 which the Divine Being has no place. Such pure ethics are im- 
 pure, — the offspring of a nature that is "enmity against God." 
 That cannot be the "fundamental principle of ethical morality," 
 which leaves out the foundation altogether. 
 
370 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NOTE Q. Page 235. 
 
 I have mentioned among the excellencies of this precept, its 
 simplicity. It is unembarrassed by metaphysical and abstract subt- 
 leties. It is level to every capacity. Every man at once appre- 
 hends and feels it. The weakest mind can understand, and the 
 slenderest memory retain it. I do not mean to say, that it is incapa- 
 ble of being perverted, of having any objections or difficulties started 
 against it by a crooked and ingenious casuistry. What is there of 
 which this can be affirmed ? There are not a few precepts, which, 
 when they are applied to the conduct of others, we instantly under- 
 stand and approve, which we like not so well, and are consequently 
 dexterous in controverting, when they bear upon ourselves; — pre- 
 cepts, of which we like better to be the objects than the subjects. 
 In these different circumstances, selfishness prompts to diversity of 
 interpretation, and to consider that as unreasonable for others to ex- 
 pect from us, which we should deem it quite fair and moderate for 
 us to expect from them. A rule may, in itself, be admirable both 
 for its justice and its simplicity, although it is not beyond the possi- 
 bility of being twisted and tortured by a selfish policy. 
 
 There is a view which has been taken of the prerept by an em- 
 inent authority, on which I wish to offer in this note a few brief re- 
 marks. It has been regarded as a precept which admits of no lim- 
 itation, but must be interpreted to the letter; so that a man who, 
 under the dominion of selfishness, forms and cherishes unreasonable 
 desires and expectations, brings himself, ipso facto, under obligation 
 to act, in his conduct to others, according to the full extent of those 
 desires and expectations. "There is no distinction laid clown," 
 says Dr. Chalmers, " between things fair and things unfair, between 
 things reasonable and things unreasonable. Both are comprehended 
 in the 'all things whatsoever.' The signification is plain and abso- 
 lute, that, let the thing be what it may, if you wish others to do that 
 thing for you, it lies imperatively on you to do the very same thing 
 for them also. You may wish your next door neighbor to present 
 you with half his fortune. In this case, we know not how you are 
 to escape from the conclusion, that you are bound to present him with 
 the half of yours. Or you may wish a relation to burden himself 
 with the expenses of all your family. It is then impossible to save 
 you from the positive obligation, if you are equally able for it, of 
 
'>7l 
 
 doing die same service to the family of another." — " Let a man 
 give himself up to a strict and literal observance of the precept in 
 (Matt. vii. 12., the text of trio disc ours e ,) "and it will 
 impress a twofold direction upon him. It will not only guide him 
 to certain performances of good in behalf of others, but it will guide 
 Jiim to the regulation of hi* own desires of good from them. The 
 
 emsfa and nnbounded hii denret are, the large* are those per- 
 formances with the obligation of which he is burdened. The more 
 
 M way to ungenerous and extravagant wishes from those who 
 are around him, the heavier and more insupportable is the load of 
 duty which he brings upon himself. The commandment is quite 
 
 imperative., and there is no escaping from it; and if lie. by the ox- 
 bis selfishness, should render it impracticable, then the v. hole 
 punishment due to the guilt of C de the authority of this 
 
 commandment follows in that train of punishment which is annexed 
 to sclfi.-.hnes-:. There U one way of being relieved from such a bur- 
 den. There is one way of reducing this precept to a moderate and 
 practicable requirement: and that is. just to g. — jnst 
 
 to stifle all ungenerous desires — just to moderate h:';ry n 
 service or liberality from others down to the standard of what is 
 right and equitable," fee. — Discourses on tl>c Application of 
 Christianity to tke commercial and ordinary Concerns of Life. 
 Disc. V. 
 
 This riew of the matter, which places the check on the indnlg 
 of our own de-ire-, arid allows of no other limit to the obligation but 
 
 the repression of selfish and extravagant wishes, i-. exceedingly inge- 
 
 ,. it is amply and finely illustrated : and J am not 
 ed unqualifiedly to controvert it. It appears, however, in 
 some points, to require not a little caution in the adoption and appli- 
 cation of it. I do not at all dispute the propriety and the obligation 
 of keeping our own desires and expectations under due limi 
 and control. IJut I am entitled to make the supposition of tl 
 sonable obligation having been ttan ind of some such unrea- 
 
 sonable wishes having been formed as those which in the preceding 
 extracts are specified — the wish of half our neighbor's fortm 
 of his undertaking the support of all our family. It 
 the question of casuistry arises. In such a case, are we under ob- 
 ligation, by the law of God, to do to the person from whom we have 
 looked for such things, or to some other, according to the fall 
 amount of our extravagant wishes? Here I hesitate. The wiah 
 
372 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 in itself is, on the supposition, unreasonable and wrong. It is im- 
 proper, and inconsistent with the divine law, for me to form and 
 entertain it. Does it then, by the circumstance of my having thus 
 formed and entertained it, become right, and even obligatory, to act 
 upon towards another ? — right and obligatory to do what it is wrong 
 and culpable to wish? It is true, that it is the duty of all alike, of 
 others as well as of ourselves, to keep their desires under control, 
 and to suppress such wishes : — but in such a world, this is what we 
 have no reason to expect. The question relates, not to the duty of 
 restraining them, but to what is duty when the restraint has been 
 forgotten: — and I repeat the question, Can it be right for me to do 
 what it is wrong for me to wish ? Let me illustrate my meaning by 
 the supposition of a case of a still clearer and more decisive kind. 
 I may desire that which is not merely extravagant and unreasonable, 
 but in its nature unlawful. True, it is a sinful desire; and I ought 
 not to indulge or even to form it. But that is not the point. It 
 must be supposed, that I have formed and indulged it. It is clear 
 that my having done so can never render it right for me, far less ob- 
 ligatory, to do to another what I have wished done for myself. A 
 man may wish a thing, which if done for him, might benefit the 
 interests of others, but, if done by him, would be very detrimental 
 to those interests. Can it become his duty to do it because he has 
 wished it, when it is thus to prove injurious to others as well as to 
 himself ? A selfish man may desire to have all his wishes gratified 
 together. Does this lay him under obligation to gratify all the 
 wishes of others ? That would be to forget that the wishes of others, 
 and their general state of mind, may be as far wrong as his own. 
 A wrong wish in himself can never oblige liim no fulfil a wrong wish 
 in another. 
 
 True it is, however, that, in proportion as a man's desires for 
 himself are large and extravagant, he aggravates his condemnation 
 if he applies a stinted and penurious measure to his dealings with 
 other men. " With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to 
 you again." It is, without question, one of the excellencies of the 
 rule before us, that it is left open on the one side, and that there is 
 no limitation placed where we are sufficiently sure of placing it our- 
 selves, and where the danger is that we make it too narrow. We 
 should, on the one hand, beware of forming unreasonable desires, 
 and then condemning, as regardless of the golden rule, those who do 
 not see it their duty to gratify them: — and, on the other hand, we 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 373 
 
 should keep in mind on which side we are most in danger of erring, 
 — the side on which temptation lies, — the side to which selfishness 
 draws: — and since, in judging of the desires of others, our decisions 
 are apt to he greatly biased, — so that, when we are flattering our- 
 selves that we have gone generously far, a disinterested judge might 
 think we had kept even within, and much within the limit; we 
 ought ever to make due allowance for this. The rule limits the 
 weights in our own scale; but imposes no restrictron with regard to 
 the opposite one; and therefore, aware of the disposition of selfish- 
 ness to scrimp weights and measures to others, — if we act up to 
 the true spirit of the rule, instead of weighing our dealings towards 
 them with the minute grains and scruples of rigid right and justice, 
 we will be ready, whenever we can afford it, to throw in a pound 
 of kindness. 
 
 NOTE R. Page 250. 
 
 For the principle of the simple view given in the text of the 
 question relative to the existence of disinterested affections, I ac- 
 knowledge myself indebted to Butler. In his Sermons on the love 
 of our neighbor, he has placed it in a very clear and satisfactory 
 light, — as the following extracts will show: — "The principle we 
 call self-love never seeks anything external for the sake of the thing, 
 but only as a means of happiness or good: — particular affections rest 
 in the external things themselves. One belongs to man as a reason- 
 able creature reflecting upon his own interest or happiness. The 
 others, though quite distinct from reason, are as much a part of human 
 nature. That all particular appetites and passions are towards ex- 
 ternal things themselves, distinct from the pleasure arising from them, 
 is manifest from hence; that there could not be this pleasure, were 
 it not for that prior suitableness between the object and the pas- 
 sion: there could be no enjoyment or delight from one thing more 
 than from another, from eating food more than from swallowing a 
 stone, if there were not an affection or appetite for one thing more 
 than for another. Every particular affection, even the love of our 
 neighbor, is as really our own affection, as self-love; and the 
 pleasure arising from its gratification is as much my own pleasure, 
 
 32 
 
374 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 as the pleasure self-love would have from knowing I myself should 
 be happy some time hence would be my own pleasure. And if, be- 
 cause every particular affection is a man's own, and the pleasure 
 arising from its gratification is his own pleasure, or pleasure to him- 
 self, such particular affection must be called self-love; according to 
 this way of speaking, no creature can possibly act but merely from 
 self-love; and every action and every affection whatever is to be re- 
 solved up into this principle. But then this is not the language of 
 mankind: or, if it were, we should want words to express the dif- 
 ference, between the principle of an action proceeding from cool 
 consideration that it will be to my own advantage, and an action, 
 suppose of revenge or of friendship, by which a man runs upon cer- 
 tain ruin, to do evil or to do good to another. It is manifest the 
 principles of these actions are v totally different, and so want different 
 words to be distinguished by: all that they agree in is, that they both 
 proceed from, and are done to gratify, an inclination in a man^s self. 
 But the principle or inclination in one case is self-love; in the other, 
 hatred or love of another. There is, then, a distinction between 
 the cool principle of self-love, or general desire of our own happi- 
 ness, as one principle of action, and the particular affections towards 
 particular external objects, as another part of our nature, and another 
 principle of action." — " Is there any less inconsistence between the 
 love of inanimate things, or of creatures merely sensitive, and self- 
 love ; than between self-love and the love of our neighbor ? Is de- 
 sire of and delight in the happiness of another any more a diminu- 
 tion of self-love, than desire of and delight in the esteem of another ? 
 They do both equally desire and delight in somewhat external to 
 themselves: — either both or neither are so. The object of self-love 
 is expressed in the term self: and every appetite of sense, and every 
 particular affection of the heart, are equally interested or disinterest- 
 ed, because the objects of them all are equally self or somewhat 
 e l se ." — " The short of the matter is no more than this. Happi- 
 ness consists in the gratification of certain affections, appetites, pas- 
 sions, with objects which are by nature adapted to them. Self-love 
 may indeed set us on to gratify these: but happiness or enjoyment 
 has no immediate connection with self-love, but arises from such 
 gratifications alone. Love of our neighbor is one of these affec- 
 tions. This, considered as a virtuous principle, is gratified by a 
 consciousness of endeavoring to promote the good of others: but, 
 considered as a natural affection, its gratification consists in the actual 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 375 
 
 accomplishment of this endeavor. Now, indulgence or gratification 
 of this affection, whether in that consciousness or in this accomplish- 
 ment, has the same respect to interest as the gratification of any 
 other affection: — they equally proceed from, or do not proceed from, 
 self-love; they equally include, or equally exclude, this principle. 
 Thus it appears, that benevolence, or the pursuit of public good, 
 hath at least as great respect to self-love, and the pursuit of private 
 good, as any other particular passions and their respective pursuits." 
 — "As it is ridiculous to assert, that self-love and the love of our 
 neighbor are the same; so neither is it asserted, that following these 
 different affections hath the same tendency and respect to our own 
 interest. The comparison is not between self-love and the love of 
 our neighbor ; between pursuit of our own interest and the interest 
 of others: but between the several particular affections in human 
 nature towards external objects, as one part of the comparison, — 
 and the one particular affection to the good of our neighbor, as the 
 other part of it: — and it has been shown, that all these have the 
 same respect to self-love and private interest." 
 
 NOTE S. Page 285. 
 
 The reader will find some observations equally distinguished for 
 correct discrimination and scriptural devotion, both on the theory of 
 Edwards, and the principles of virtue in general, in the " Eclectic 
 Review," for February, 1823, Vol. XIX. p. 97, &c. Art. Joyce on 
 Love to God. — I perfectly concur with the writer of that article in 
 thinking, that " this most profound thinker and able polemic, skilled 
 as he was in the unraveling of sophistry and the demolition of 
 error, failed in the very outset of his attempt to construct a moral 
 theory." 
 
 It would be injustice to a mind of the highest order, whose puri- 
 fied and elevated faculties are now rinding full scope for all their 
 heavenly expansion in the services of the upper sanctuary — not to 
 refer to the sentiments of the late Rev. Robert Hall, on the principles 
 of Edwards' theory. They are to be found, in a forcible and con- 
 densed form, in a Note to the earliest and perhaps the most splendid 
 
376 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 and powerful of his published Sermons — his Modern Infidelity con- 
 sidered. — Works, Vol. I. pp. 58, 59. 
 
 I have quoted Sir James Mackintosh, on one or two points, in the 
 principles and the phraseology of Edwards. I cannot think, how- 
 ever, that in all respects he has done full justice either to the theory 
 or to its illustrious author. For example, the theory is brought, in 
 the following terms, to a very summary trial : — The justness of the 
 compound proportion on which human virtue is made to depend, is 
 capable of being tried by an easy test. If we suppose the greatest 
 of evil spirits to have a hundred times the bad passions of Marcus 
 Aurelius, and at the same time a hundred times his faculties, or, in 
 Edwards' language, a hundred times his quantity of being, it follows 
 from this moral theory, that we ought to esteem and love the devil 
 exactly in the same degree as we esteem and love Marcus Aurelius." 
 But in thus balancing the passions against the faculties, — making 
 the one a counterpoise to the other, — neutralizing the influence of 
 the former by the counter influence of the latter, and making the 
 latter so to compensate for the former, as to bring our moral esteem 
 and love to an equilibrium between two such opposite characters, — 
 is there not an overlooking of one of the essential principles of the 
 theory ? According to the theory, the love of being does not in- 
 clude complacence or esteem. That sentiment arises, not from the 
 primary but the secondary ground of virtuous affection, namely, the 
 discernment in another of the same benevolence or love of being 
 which we ourselves are supposed to experience. 
 
 To say, therefore, that " according to this moral theory, we ought 
 to esteem and love the devil exactly in the same degree as we es- 
 teem and love Marcus Aurelius," because, although the devil has a 
 hundred times his bad passions, he has, at the same time, as a coun- 
 terpoise to this, a hundred times his faculties or quantity of being, is 
 evidently to make the quantity of being the ground, not only of the 
 affection of good-will, but of the affection of moral esteem or 
 complacency. The devil, being destitute of benevolence, or love 
 to being, is destitute of that which, in the theory, is the sole ground 
 of this latter sentiment : — and, if Marcus Aurelius be supposed to 
 have the benevolence, he has that which alone can inspire the es- 
 teem, and which cannot be compensated by ten thousand times the 
 amount of being; for if infinite being could be supposed destitute of 
 this benevolence, there would, according to the theory, be infinite 
 ground for the opposite sentiment to complacence. And even as to 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 377 
 
 the affection of benevolence or good-will, the theory provides for a 
 larger exercise of it on the ground of character, or the possession of 
 the same benevolence. The measure of the good-will is to be a 
 compound of the quantity of being, and the moral character : — 
 " When any one under the influence of general benevolence, sees 
 another being possessed of the like general benevolence, this at- 
 taches his heart to him, and draws forth greater love to him, than 
 merely his having existence; because, so far as the being beloved 
 has love to being in general, so far his own being is, as it were, en- 
 larged, extends to, and in some sort comprehends, being in general: 
 and therefore, he that is governed by love to being in general must 
 of necessity have complacence in him, and the greater degree of 
 benevolence to him, as it were out of gratitude to him for his love 
 to general existence, that his own heart is extended and united to, 
 and so looks on its interest as its own. It is because his heart is 
 thus united to being in general, that he looks on a benevolent pro- 
 pensity to being in general, wherever he sees it, as the beauty of the 
 being in whom it is, — an excellency that renders him worthy of 
 esteem, complacence, and the greater good-will." 
 
 I cannot close this note without observing, that the decided attach- 
 ment of Edwards to the fundamental articles of the gospel, as he 
 understood them, and as they are understood by the great body of 
 evangelical professors, has exposes him to the^charge of narrow- 
 mindedness from the eminent historian of Ethical Science, — 
 which he would himself have meekly borne as a part of his cross, — 
 and which all who think with him may expect, not only from the 
 philosophers of this world, but from those also who hold the profes- 
 sion of Christianity with an undefined liberalism, which hardly 
 leaves it an article of peculiarity. After quoting from Edwards the 
 sentiment that " true religion consists in a great measure in holy af- 
 fections; " and that "a love of divine things for the beauty and 
 sweetness of their moral excellency, is the spring of all holy affec- 
 tions," — Sir James proceeds : " Had he suffered this noble principle 
 to take- the right road to all its fair consequences, he would have en- 
 tirely concurred with Plato, with Shaftesbury, and with Malebranche, 
 in devotion to the 'first good, first perfect, and first fair.' But he 
 thought it necessary afterwards to limit his doctrine to his own per- 
 suasion, by denying that moral excellence could be discovered in 
 divine things by those Christians who did not take the same view 
 with him of their religion. All others, and some who hold his doc- 
 
378 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 trines with a more enlarged spirit, may adopt his principle without 
 any limitation." — Prelim. Diss. p. 340. 
 
 All this amounts to no more, than that Edwards had more regard 
 to revelation than to philosophy. The " height and front of his 
 offending had this extent — no more." The " holy affections " in 
 which he placed true religion, were affections which he considered 
 as regarding God according to the view of his character exhibited in 
 "the word of the truth of the gospel." He would not, to please 
 philosophy, divest the principles of religion of then evangelical pe- 
 culiarities, or extend his charity beyond the limits of the Bible. To 
 hear it lamented that the principle adopted by Edwards as to the 
 "love of divine things" should not have been so general and com- 
 prehensive as to have fitted him for religious association with "Plato 
 and Shaftesbury and Malebranche," may well provoke a smile; and 
 one can only regret, that the views of Christianity entertained by the 
 able and justly bewailed philosopher and statesman who thus la- 
 ments had not been themselves more definite, and more in accord- 
 ance with the illiberal sentiments which he deplores. Our veneration 
 for the dead must never tempt us to such a tolerance of their pub- 
 lished sentiments as might be injurious to the living. And I hardly 
 know any one thing more pernicious in its tendency and actual ope- 
 ration, than that generalizing of the term Christianity to a compre- 
 hensiveness which excludes almost nothing that a man may take a 
 fancy to call by the name, — associated with the kindred sentiment of 
 the harmlessness of all opinions. To this latter sentiment, — a 
 sentiment as perilous as it is palatable, and as unscriptural and unphi- 
 losophical too as it is both, — we are sorry to find Sir James Mack- 
 intosh, distinctly and repeatedly, giving his most unqualified sanction. 
 "The Scotists," says he, "steadily affirmed the blamelessness of 
 erroneous opinion; a principle which is the only effectual secu- 
 rity for -conscientious inquiry, mutual kindness, and for public 
 quiet. ' ' 
 
 Now, that men have no right to interfere with each others' opin- 
 ions; — that every attempt to compel the adoption of them by the 
 force of persecution is as impious and unjust as it is insane and 
 fruitless; and that all human punishment for them is a presumptuous 
 usurpation of the province of Deity, — I freely admit, and would 
 pertinaciously maintain. So far as the folly and the wickedness of 
 persecution are concerned, I subscribe, with my whole soul, to 
 the following powerful statement; — "No one but the religious 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 379 
 
 persecutor, a mischievous and overgrown child, wreaks his ven- 
 geance on involuntary, inevitable, compulsory acts or states of the 
 understanding, which are no more affected by blame than the stone 
 which the foolish child beats for hurting him. Reasonable men 
 apply to everything which they wish to move the agent which is 
 capable of moving it; force to outward substances, arguments to the 
 understanding, and blame, together with all other motives, whether 
 moral or personal, to the will alone. It is as absurd to entertain an 
 abhorrence of intellectual inferiority or error, however extensive or 
 mischievous, as it would be to cherish a warm indignation against 
 earthquakes or hurricanes. It is singular that a philosopher who 
 needed the most liberal toleration" (he is speaking of Mr. Hume) 
 " should, by representing states of the understanding as moral or 
 immoral have offered the most philosophical apology for persecu- 
 tion." — Prelim, Diss. p. 357. But, disowning as I do every 
 approach to persecution, as incapable of any apology, whether on 
 the principles of philosophy, of religion, or of common sense; I must 
 at the same time hold it to be equally inconsistent with philosophy, 
 with religion, and with common sense to deny that the disposition 
 or moral state of the heart, has an influence on the exercise of the 
 intellect, and the decisions of the judgment; this being a matter of 
 fact which the experience of every day notoriously exemplifies: and 
 surely, in as far as this is the case, sentiments may be blameworthy, 
 and " states of the understanding moral or immoral." To entertain 
 " no abhorrence of error, however extensive or mischievous," is 
 either to proceed on the assumption that error never arises from 
 moral causes; or to be insensible to the evil of those moral causes 
 from which it does arise. Every declaration of Scripture that " he 
 who beiieveth not shall be condemned, proceeds on the opposite hy- 
 pothesis to that of the blamelessness of error, namely, that the 
 rejection of the gospel is the result of moral causes; that "light 
 is come into the world, and that men love darkness rather than light, 
 because their deeds are evil." 
 
 We are prone to extremes. There is a narrow-minded imbecili- 
 ty, which magnifies the minutest points of doctrine to undue dimen- 
 sions, elevates them into terms of communion, and separates itself, 
 with a self-complacent jealousy, from the contact and consummation 
 of the most circumstantial error, even notwithstanding a very com- 
 plete agreement in the essential articles of revealed truth: — and 
 there is, on the other hand, a liberalism in religion, which merges all 
 
380 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 the peculiarities of Christian truth and Christian communion — break- 
 ing down and sweeping away the sacred inclosures of God's vine- 
 yard, — and, with a sentimental latitude of charity, which is exceed- 
 ingly captivating, because it passes for philosophical strength of 
 mind and largeness of heart, sets no limit to its all-comprehensive 
 fellowship but that of a universally imputed sincerity. Such is the 
 expansive liberality, which, with an unsuppressed feeling of appro- 
 bation and delight, the censor of the narrow mindedness of Jonathan 
 Edwards ascribes to Bishop Berkeley, when he says of him — "His 
 mind, enlarging as it rose, at length receives every theist, however 
 imperfect his belief, to a communion in its philosophic piety." — In- 
 trod. Diss. p. 351. There is assuredly a scriptural medium be- 
 tween these two extremes; and the Christian, who knows the terms 
 in which inspiration speaks of "the wisdom of this world," while 
 he enlarges his heart to " all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sin- 
 cerity," will, at the same time, be not a little jealous of this undis- 
 criminating "philosophic piety." 
 
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