JVo.
MM1 ISSTSTETS
'It E8 EN TED «Y
The Library Committee shall divide tlie books and other
articles belonging to the Library into three classes, namely:
(a) those which arc not to be removed from the building; (b)
those which may be taken from the halls only by written
permission of three members of the committee, who shall
take a receipt lor the same and be responsible for their safe
return; (c) tlio.se which may circulate under the following
rules :—
Members shall be entitled to take from the Library one
folio, or two quarto volumes, or four volumes of any lesser
fold, with the plates belonging to the same, upon having
them recorded by the Librarian, or Assistant Librarian, ami
promising to make good any damage they sustain, while in
their possession, and to replace the same" if lost, or pay the
Kiun fixed by the Library Committee.
No person shall lend any book belonging to the Institute,
excepting to a member, under a penalty of one dollar for
every such offence.
The Library Committee may allow members to take more-
than the allotted number of books upon a written applica
tion, and may also permit other persons than members to
use the Library, under such conditions as they may impose.
No person shall det.iin any book longer than four weeks
from the time of its being taken from the Library, if notified
that the same is wanted by another member, under a penalty
of five cents per day, and no volume shall be detained longer
than three months at one time under the same penalty.
^The Librarian shall have power by order of the Library
Committee to call in any volume alter it has been retained
by a member for ten days.
On or before the first Wednesday in May. all books shall
be returned to the Library, and a penalty of five cents per
day shall be Imposed for each volume detained.
Labels designating the class to which each book beloive
shall be placed upon its cover.
No book shall be allowed to circulate until one month after
its reception. -_..
ESSAYS
ON THE
PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY,
AND
ON THE PRIVATE AND POLITICAL RIGHTS AND OBLI
GATIONS OF MANKIND.
BY
JONATHAN DYMOND,
AUTHOR OF "AN INQUIRY INTO THK ACCORDANCY Or WAR WITH THE PRINCIPLES OF CHRIS*
TIANITY," &C.
WITH A PREFACE.
BY THE
REV. GEORGE BUSH, M.A.,
ADJUNCT PROFESSOR OF HEBREW AND ORIENTAL LITERATURE IN THE NEW-YORK CITY f.NIVKRHITT ;
AUTHOR OF THE " LIFE OK MOHAMMED," "TREATISE ON THE MILLENNIUM," 4tc.
NEW-YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, 82 CLIFF-STREET.
1839.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835,
By HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New- York.
lOOfc
PREFACE
TO THE
AMERICAN EDITION.
IN looking at the system of Christianity as exhibited in the pages of
the New Testament, we see not only a grand and gracious scheme, the
fruit of the benignant counsels of its Author, for the recovery of a fallen
race, but a body also of moral precepts most wisely adapted to mould the
character and to regulate the entire conduct of mankind. Yet the fact is
indubitable, that for reasons which it would be more easy to specify than
to obviate, there has hitherto existed a strong propensity in the Christian
world to contemplate the religion of the gospel under the exclusive aspect
of its remedial features, as a relief for the guilty, and as connecting itself
mainly with the interests of another life. Its ethical has been lost sight
of in its doctrinal character ; and in the various developments of its genius
and tendencies which have been given to the world, a work adequately
displaying its true nature as a system of moral instruction, adapting itself to
the various departments of responsible human action, must yet, we fear, be
pronounced a desideratum.
The volume now presented to the public with a view to supply, in some
measure, this deficiency, is the production of a Mr. DYMOND, an English
gentleman, and a member of the Society of Friends, a portion of the reli
gious community who, whatever may be thought of their doctrinal and
speculative views of Christianity, have certainly aimed at such a practical
exhibition of its spirit and precepts as to exempt them very much from the
application of the remarks made above upon the too partial display of its
character in other quarters. The work, though hitherto but little known
in this country, has passed through two editions in England since the death
of its lamented author, in the spring of 1828. But even in that country,
though reviewed and commended in the London Quarterly,* it would seem,
from the rarity of the allusions made to it in the current writings of the
day, to have attracted comparatively little notice, and to have been by no
means appreciated according to its intrinsic worth. But with books, as with
" The present work is one which the Society (the Friends) may well consider it an
honour to have produced ; it is indeed a book of such ability, and so excellently intended,
as well as well executed, that even those who differ most widely, as we must do, from some
of its conclusions, must regard the writer with the greatest respect, and look upon his death
as a public loss " — QUAR. REV., Jan., 1831.
A2
4 EDITOR'S PREFACE.
men, the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong. Were
it so, a different award, we are persuaded, would have fallen to the lot of
the '* Essays on Morality." Whether the failure of the work hitherto to
command a degree of notoriety at all proportioned to its merits be owing to
the fact that many of its leading positions on the great questions of Moral
and Political Rectitude are too far in advance of the state of public opinion
in that country, or to a presumption somewhat akin to that which once
prompted the incredulity of an Israelite in reference to the coming forth
of any good from Nazareth, a presumption that no work of distinguished
ability on such a subject was to be expected from the source in which this
originated, or to other causes of which we are not competent to form a
judgment, we are unable to say ; yet it is not among the least pleasing of
the anticipations connected with its present appearance from an American
press, that a just though tardy tribute of honour and applause shall redound
to a name at once so little covetous and so highly deserving of a grateful
distinction.
The general object and plan of the work are so fully explained by the
author in his " Introductory Notices," that it will be unnecessary to reca
pitulate or enlarge upon them here. His aim appears to have been to
establish, by a train of valid argumentation, the system of moral and
political duties upon what he considered to be its only true and legitimate
basis, the expressed will of God. This is, in fact, but a peculiar mode of
converting the dubious system of moral philosophy into a definite code of
Christian ethics — a task for which the author, by the original structure
of his mind and his prevailing habits of reflection, seems to have been emi
nently fitted. His success has accordingly been decided and signal.
Whether we regard the soundness and lucidness of his reasonings, the
temper, candour, and wisdom of his conclusions, the elegance of his style,
the felicity of his illustrations, or the singularly excellent spirit which per
vades the whole, the Essays of Dymond are entitled to rank high in the
highest class of ethical productions.
We learn from the author that his undertaking sprang from a belief (in
which he probably is not alone), that the existing treatises did not exhibit
the principles nor enforce the obligations of morality in all their perfection
and purity, and from the desire to supply the apprehended deficiency, by
presenting a true and authoritative standard of rectitude, one by an appeal
to which the moral character of human actions might be rightly estimated.
Such an object, it is obvious, could not be attained without bringing the
writer into direct collision with the most prominent of the extant theories
of moral obligation, particularly that of Paley and his disciples. It will
accordingly be found that he intrepidly enters the lists with the great
apostle and champion of expediency, and with the weapons of an uncom
promising logic battles the fallacies of that specious but dangerous doctrine
through every stage of his investigations. How complete and triumphant
is his refutation, and upon what a far more stable foundation he builds his
own, or rather Heaven's, beautiful system of obligations, duties, and
rights, we will not forestall the reader by stating. Suffice it to say,
that he has erected his edifice on the solid basis of inspired truth ;
and that in the choice of his materials he has excluded the wood, hay, and
stubble of vain hypotheses, and admitted no ornaments but such as are
EDITOR'S PREFACE. 5
fitted to grace the temple of God. It will be seen, moreover, if we mis
take not, that in the treatment of the various topics which come under
review, he evinces not only an intimate acquaintance with the genius of
the Christian religion, and a deep insight into the true principles of morals,
but an extensive observation of human life in those spheres of action which
are seldom apt to attract the notice of the meditative philosopher. Indeed
it is the strong vein of practical good sense running through the volume
which constitutes a leading feature of its excellence.
But upon what achievement of human skill, talent, or wisdom can be
bestowed the meed of unqualified applause 1 It is not the prerogative of
mortality to stamp perfection upon its works, — and in heaven only, the
region of moral purity, will man be wholly exempt from the inroads of
intellectual error. Even of this excellent work we are compelled to pre
dicate the usual attributes of infirmity, which leave their traces upon every
emanation of the mind of man. We cannot regard with equal appro
bation every portion of the ensuing " Essays" : yet it is seldom in
deed that we find a sentiment advanced, but we feel that it propounds matter
worthy of serious consideration ; and even where we hesitate to assent to
his conclusions, we perceive at the same time so much evidence of pro
found deference to the Will of God, and that even the very faults which we
may have detected have arisen solely from an occasional undue pressing of
some of its intimations, that the spirit of censure is softened, and while
our assent is withheld from the reasonings, our respect for the reasoner
remains undiminished.
We cannot but be aware that exceptions will probably be taken by many
persons to the author's views contained in the chapters on Religious Obli
gations, particularly in what he says of Sabbatic Institutions, Oaths, Intel
lectual Education, Capital Punishments, and the Rights of Self-defence :
others, again, finding his sentiments on these points to be but an echo to
their own, will fix upon other parts of the system as more liable to objection.
To the author's views on these subjects, we can only bespeak from the
reader that candid and charitable allowance on the score of denominalional
bias which the conditions of our common humanity require. Who will
refuse to grant to a brother a boon which that brother feels himself bound
continually to accord to him ? The points to which we allude are not
of prime or vital moment to the interests of Christianity ; and though
we may feel unable to subscribe, in every particular, to the sentiments
advanced by the author, yet shall we suffer a slight admixture of error to
neutralize so large an amount of sound Christian philosophy as the reader
will find imbodied in the compass of these pages 1 Certain we are, that
if all that is true, all that is valuable, all that is unexceptionable in the
ensuing ** Essays" be fully received, digested, and assimilated with the
materiel of our own reflections, the inconsiderable infusion of error, if error
there be, will be rendered all but absolutely harmless.
Did our ideas of justice to an author's work and to his memory permit,
we should perhaps have been induced, in the present reprint, to cancel
a few of the pages to which certain classes of readers will be likely
to object ; but besides that the stern spirit of moral rectitude which breathes
through the volume would seem to frown upon the proceeding, and reprove
6 EDITOR'S PREFACE.
us for a breach of that very integrity of which it treats, and which it goes
to inculcate, we are fully of the opinion that truth never suffers by discus
sion. " Although," says the able author of the * Essays on the Forma
tion and Publication of Opinions,' " we have no absolute test of truth, yet
we have faculties to discern it, and it is only by the unrestrained exercise
of those faculties that we can hope to attain correct opinions. The way
to attain this result is to permit all to be said on a subject that can be
' said. All error is the consequence of narrow and partial views, and can
be removed only by having a question presented in all its possible bear
ings, or, in other words, by unlimited discussion. Where there is a perfect
freedom of examination, there is the greatest probability which it is possi
ble to have that the truth will be ul imately attained. To impose the least
restraint is to diminish this probability : it is to declare that we will not
take into consideration all the possible arguments which can be presented,
but that we will form our opinions on partial views. It is therefore to
increase the probability of error. Nor need we, under the utmost free
dom of discussion, be in any fear of an inundation of crude and preposter
ous speculations. All such will meet with a proper and effectual check in
the neglect or ridicule of the public : none will have much influence but
those which possess the plausibility bestowed by a considerable admixture
of truth, and which it is of importance should appear, that amid the con
tention of controversy, what is true may be separated from what is false."
On the principle, then, that the truth ever stands the fairest chance to
make good its triumphs when the antagonist error is permitted to array
itself in open field against it, and under the full conviction that the true,
the certain, and the solid of the present work immeasurably overbalances
the doubtful and the feeble, we have determined to set forth the specula
tions of the author precisely in the form in which they came from his own
pen. An occasional note, designated by the letter B, has been appended
at the foot of the page to some of the paragraphs which seemed to admit
or require a slight qualification or expansion of their leading positions. — On
one point, however, we take the present opportunity of speaking some
what more at length.
The portion of the ensuing Essays which we are disposed to regard as
more peculiarly obnoxious to exception is that in which he treats of the
fundamental ground of moral obligation. While we are glad to see him
array himself against the pernicious theory of Paley, that " it is the utility
of any action alone which constitutes the obligation of it," we find it diffi
cult to accord with our author in regarding the simple egression of the
Divine will as the ultimate standard of right and wrong. " If we exam
ine," says he, " those sacred volumes in which the written expression of
the Divine will is contained, we find that they habitually proceed upon the
supposition that the will of God, being expressed, is for that reason our
final law. They do not set about formal proofs that we ought to sacrifice
inferior rules to it, but conclude, as of course, that if the will of God is
made known, human duty is ascertained. In short, the whole system of
moral legislation, as it is exhibited in Scripture, is a system founded upon
authority. The propriety, the utility of the requisitions are not made of
importance. That which is made of importance is the authority of the
Being who legislates. * Thus saith the Lord,' is regarded as constituting
EDITOR'S PREFACE. 7
a sufficient and a final law. So also it is with the moral instructions of
Christ ' He put the truth of what he taught upon authority.1* In
the Sermon on the Mount, / say unto T/OW, is proposed as the sole, and
sufficient, and ultimate ground of obligation. He does not say, My pre
cepts will promote human happiness, therefore you are bound to obey
them : but he says, They are my precepts, therefore you are to obey them.
So habitually is this principle borne in mind, if we may so speak, by those
who were commissioned to communicate the Divine will, that the reason
of a precept is not often assigned. The assumption evidently was, that
the Divine will was all that it was necessary for us to knovv."|
We have no doubt that in laying down this as the foundation of his sys
tem, the object of the author was, as far as might be, to simplify the sub
ject, to disencumber it of all abstruse and metaphysical appendages, and
to exhibit a standard of morals that should be plain, perspicuous, practical,
and by levelling itself to the capacities of all men, secure to itself the exer
cise of the widest possible influence. And thus far we highly applaud his
motives ; for it is certain that the great mass of mankind are little likely to
be practically governed by a system of ethics beset by scholastic subtleties
and intangible distinctions. We admit, moreover, that so far as any other
authority comes in competition with the will of God as a rule of duty,
we are not to hesitate a moment in preferring the claims of the latter ; but
a rule of duty is not the same with the ultimate ground of duty : yet the
author seems occasionally to have confounded them. The grand question
is, Does the expressed will of God make the distinction between right
and wrong in regard to moral conduct, or does it simply declare it?
Here, we are of opinion, Mr. Dymond has failed to exhibit his usual
degree of clearness and acumen, and in his laudable zeal to establish the
paramount authority of the will of God as the grand directory of human
conduct, has overlooked the force of certain considerations which might
have been brought to corroborate, instead of weaken, his main positions.
For while we agree with him that the communicated will of God is the
grand expositor of human duty, it surely does not detract from its
supremacy in this respect to say, that this will is not in itself the consti
tuting cause of moral good and evil. If right and wrong are terms denoting
what actions are in themselves, then whatever they are they are such, not by
will, or decree, or power, but by nature and necessity. In the demonstra
tive sciences, whatever a triangle or a circle is, that it is unchangeably and
eternally : it depends upon no will or power, whether the three angles of a
triangle shall be equal to two right angles, or whether the diameter and
the circumference of a circle shall be incommensurable. So of morat
good and evil. We see not how the will of .any being can render any
thing morally good and obligatory which was not so antecedently and from
eternity, or any action morally right which is not so absolutely in itself.
If this be so, if the qualities of actions as good and evil, right and wrong,
be immutable and eternal, then obligation to action and rectitude of action
are obviously coincident and identical ; so that we cannot form an idea of
the one without including that of the other. Of this any one may be
satisfied who shall attempt to point out the difference between what is
* Paley, Evid. of Christ, p. 2, c. 2. f P. 31, 32.
8 EDITOR'S PREFACE
right, meet, or Jit to be done, and what ought to be done. As easily may
we conceive of figure without extension, or of motion without a change of
place, as that it can be right for us to do an action, and yet that it may not
be what we should do, what it is our duty to do, or what we are under an
obligation to do. It follows, then, that that which is morally good has
a real obligatory power antecedently to all positive laws, and independently
of all will, since obligation is involved in its very nature ; and those
who maintain that all obligation is to be deduced from positive laws, or
from the Divine will, do in effect assert that the words right and good
stand for no real and distinctive characters of actions, but signify merely
what is willed and commanded.
Those who place the ground of moral obligation in the simple will of
God usually maintain that the obligatory power of this will depends upon
the rewards and punishments annexed to obedience or disobedience.
This seems to come little short of subverting entirely the independent
nature of moral good and evil ; for if the doctrine be true, it follows that vice
is properly nothing more than imprudence, and that nothing is right or wrong,
just or unjust, any further than it affects our self-interest. But let it be asked,
Would a person who believes there is no God, or if there be one, that he
concerns not himself in human affairs, be for that reason exempt from the
feeling of moral obligation, and therefore not be accountable ? Would
his unbelief release him from any bond of duty and morality ? Yet these
consequences must follow if obligation depends wholly on the knowledge
of the will of a superior. The truth is, rewards and punishments suppose,
in the very idea of them, moral obligation, and are founded upon it.
They enforce it, but do not make it. They are the sanctions of virtue, not
its efficients. A reward supposes something done to deserve it, or a con
formity to obligation previously subsisting ; and punishment is inflicted on
account of some breach of obligation. Were we under no obligations
antecedently to the proposal of rewards and punishments, it would be a
contradiction to suppose us capable of them.
We could have wished, therefore, that the excellent author of these
Essays had laid the corner-stone of his theory somewhat deeper, and
assumed that the precepts of Revelation are obligatory, not merely because
they have emanated from the highest authority in the universe, but because
they command that which is in its own intrinsic nature eternally and im
mutably binding. It is surely important to establish as far as possible the
identity of the dictates and promptings of our own rational nature with
those of the revealed will of our Maker, and thus to invigorate the force
of law by the verdict of the internal convictions of our own breasts.
But after every abatement on this or any other score, there remains so
large and solid a residuum of excellence in the speculations of Mr.
Dymond, that his work may be confidently left to its own intrinsic merits,
as a sure passport to public favour. It can scarcely fail to find a response
in every heart rightly affected to the highest interests of our race : and to
those who have concerned themselves in its republication it cannot but be
matter of complacent reflection, that they have been in any way instru
mental in putting their fellow-men in possession of a work so well calcu
lated to raise the general tone of morality, to give distinctness to their
perceptions of rectitude, and to add strength to their resolutions to virtue.
C. B,
POSTSCRIPT. 9
Since the foregoing Preface was put to press, we have received, through
the kindness of a friend, whose high estimate of Dymond's works
had prompted him to write to an eminent individual in England, with
a view to obtain some particulars of his life and character, the following
brief but interesting Memoir of the author of the " Essays." This im
perfect sketch, while it will do something towards gratifying that curiosity
which a perusal of the volume cannot fail to excite, will go still farther in
raising the reader's admiration of the intellect and the heart which, under
such adverse circumstances, could rear so noble a monument of their power
and piety.
Livei-pool, 2Mh of 9th month, 1333.
RESPECTED FRIEND :
*******! was indeed greatly concerned to hear that
had been arrested by illness in the career of his benevolence. There is
no reasoning upon these dispensations of Providence according to our
short-sighted notions of public usefulness. None can work but as the
Lord gives them ability in the great work of universal peace and righteous
ness ; and as He knows best when each has done the portion of work
allotted to him, so he can release the instrument, and raise up others to do
himself honour and to take away all glorying from the sons of men.
The very early removal of Jonathan Dymond from this scene of trial,
was a striking instance of the principle alluded to ; for, with talents rarely
bestowed, and exalted piety capable of extensive usefulness, he was called
away from an amiable wife and infant family, as it were in the morning of
his days. I am sorry that I am not able to give thee many particulars
relative to this extraordinary young man, who has left behind him a work,
viz. his "Essays on Morality, &c.," that is built on too firm a foundation
to be soon forgotten : for it is built on Christianity itself. He kept a shop
as a linen-draper in some part of the S.W. of England ; I believe in
Exeter. His first literary effort was the " Inquiry into the Accordancy
of War with the Principles of Christianity,"* in which he completely suc
ceeded in overthrowing the delusive and pernicious doctrines of Paley,
with regard to *« expediency" as a rule of conduct either for states or indi
viduals. This work has had a very powerful effect in deciding some close
reasoners to adopt the principles of peace ; for tne author shows himself to
be well skilled in using the weapons of the logician, and he brings his argu
ments to bear on questions of pure morality and religion with extraordinary
force and ability. I have understood that he wrote a great part of the
work on peace, as well of his posthumous essays, in a little room adjoining
his shop, subject to frequent interruptions from customers in the midst of
his most profound and interesting speculations.
I enjoyed but a short and melancholy portion of his society and ac
quaintance, for it was under peculiar and trying circumstances that I last
saw him ; but an impression has been left upon my mind that can never,
I think, be removed. He came to London for professional advice, if I
remember right, about the latter end of the year 1827, or the beginning of
1828. His complaint was seated chiefly in the throat, and the irritation
was such that talking, even to a friend, for a few minutes, brought on
* The substance of this inquiry is included in the present work.— Ed.
10 POSTSCRIPT.
coughing ; so that, in order to prevent it, he came to the resolution not to
speak at all to any one, and for many months before I saw him he had
scrupulously followed this plan, using a slate to maintain the interchange
of sentiment with those about him. Great part of his essays must have
been written while he was under this self-imposed interdict. His mind was
then remarkably clear and vigorous, and he appeared to be quite free from
all depressing anticipation with regard to the result. His disease proved
in the end to be pulmonary consumption.
I have a letter from his father dated Exeter, 12th of 5th month, 1828,
informing me that on the 6th " he was taken from this mutable state."
He adds, " Through the merciful regard of our Holy Head and High Priest,
I believe I may venture to say that his mind was kept in perfect peace,
and that he was favoured while living to experience a foretaste of that
state of blessedness into which I dare not doubt his being entered."
In the same letter J. D. informs me that his daughter was removed on
the 8th of the 3d month, his son George on the 24th of the 4th, and Jona
than, as before mentioned, on the 6th. " So that in rather less than two
months I have had to experience the loss of three of my children near and
dear to me, not only by the ties of nature, but additionally so as they were
all of them eminently favoured with the precious influence of Heavenly
love, and concerned in no ordinary degree to live in the fear of Him who
called them to virtue, and who, I humbly trust, has received them into
glory."
I remain, with much respect and regard,
Thy friend,
THOS. HANCOCK,
CONTENTS.
05
INTRODUCTORY NOTICES -
• General objects and plan.
ESSAY I.
PART I.
PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.
CHAP. I. MORAL OBLIGATIONS -------87
Foundation of moral obligation.
CHAP II. STANDARD OF RIGHT AND WRONG
The will of God— Notices of theories — The communication of the will of
God The supreme authority of the expressed will of God— Causes of its
practical rejection — The principles of expediency fluctuating and incon
sistent — Application of the principles of expediency — Difficulties — Liability
to abuse — Pagans.
CHAP. III. SUBORDINATE STANDARDS OP RIGHT AND WRONG
Foundation and limits of the authority of subordinate moral rules.
CHAP. IV. COLLATERAL OBSERVATIONS
fdentical authority of moral and religious obligations — The Divine attributes
— Of deducing rules of human duty from a consideration of the attributes
of God — Virtue : " Virtue is conformity with the standard of rectitude"
— Motives of action.
CHAP. V. SCRIPTURE _------- 43
The morality of the Patriarchal, Mosaic, and Christian dispensations— Their
moral requisitions not always coincident — Supremacy of the Christian mo
rality — Of variations in the moral law — Mode of applying the precepts of
Scripture to questions of duty — No formal moral system in Scripture —
Criticism of Biblical morality— Of particular precepts and general rules —
Matt. vii. 12 — 1 Cor. x. 31 — Rom. iii. 8 — Benevolence, as it is proposed in
the Christian Scriptures.
CHAP. VI. THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD 55
Conscience — Its nature — Its authority — Review of opinions respecting a
moral sense — Bishop Butler — Lord Bacon— Lord Shaftesbury — Watts —
Voltaire — Locke — Southey — Adam Smith — Paley — Rousseau — Milton —
Judge Hale — Marcus Antoninus — Epictetus — Seneca— Paul— That every
human being possesses a moral law — Pagans — Gradations of light — Proph
ecy — The immediate communication of the Divine Will perpetual — Of
national vices : Infanticide : Duelling— Of savage life.
20 CONTENTS.
PART II.
SUBORDINATE MEANS OF DISCOVERING THE DIVINE WILL.
CHAP. I. THE LAW OF THE LAND ------ 73
Its authority — Limits to its authority — Morality sometimes prohibits what the
law permits.
CHAP. II. THE LAW OF NATURE ------ 77
Its authority — Limit to its authority — Obligations resulting from the Rights of
Nature — Incorrect ideas attached to the word Nature.
CHAP. III. UTILITY -------- 1 - 81
Obligations resulting from expediency — Limits to these obligations
•
CHAP. IV. THE LAW OF NATIONS. THE LAW OF HONOUR.
SECT. I. THE LAW OF NATIONS - - - - - - 84
Obligations and authority of the Law of Nations — Its abuses, and the limits
of its authority — Treaties.
SECT. II. THE LAW OF HONOUR ----- 87
Authority of the Law of Honour — Its character.
ESSAY II.
PRIVATE RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS.
CHAP. I . RELIGIOUS OBLIGATIONS ------ 90
Factitious semblances of devotion — Religious conversation — Sabbatical insti
tutions — Non-sanctity of days — Of temporal employments : Travelling :
Stage-coaches : " Sunday papers :" Amusements — Holydays — Ceremo
nial institutions and devotional formularies — Utility of forms — Forms of
prayer — Extempore prayer — Skepticism — Motives to skepticism.
CHAP. II. PROPERTY -------- 103
Foundation of the Right to Property — Insolvency : Perpetual obligation to
pay debts : Reform of public opinion : Examples of integrity — Wills, Lega
tees, Heirs : Informal Wills : Intestates — Charitable bequests — Minor's
debts — A wife's debts — Bills of Exchange — Shipments — Distraints — Unjust
defendants— Extortion — Slaves — Privateers — Coniiscations — Public money
— Insurance — Improvements on estates — Settlements — Houses of infamy
— Literary property — Rewards.
CHAP. III. INEQUALITY OF PROPERTY ----- 121
Accumulation of wealth : Its proper limits — Provision for children : " Keep
ing up the family."
CHAP. IV. LITIGATION. ARBITRATION ----- 125
Practice of early Christians — Evils of Litigation — Efficiency of Arbitration.
CHAP. V. THE MORALITY OF LEGAL PRACTICE - - - - 128
Complexity of law — Professional untruths — Defences of legal practice — Ef
fects of legal practice : Seduction : Theft : Peculation — The duties of the
profession — Pleading — Effects of legal practice on the profession, and on
the public-
CONTENTS. 21
CHAP. VI. PROMISES. LIES
PROMISES - w ^- > ;- '*~' . '&. 129
Definition of a promise — Parole — Extorted promises.
LIES 142
Milton's definition — Lies in war : To robbers : To lunatics : To the sick — Hy
perbole — Irony — Complimentary untruths — " Not at home" — Legal docu
ments.
CHAP. VII. OATHS --------- 147
THEIR MORAL CHARACTER :
THEIR EFFICACY AS SECURITIES OF VERACITY :
THEIR EFFECTS.
A curse — Immorality of oaths — Oaths of the ancient Jews — Milton — Paley
— The high-priest's adjuration — Early Christians — Inefficacy of caths —
Motives to veracity — Religious sanctions : Public opinion : Legal penalties
— Oaths in evidence : Parliamentary evidence : Courts-martial — The Uni
ted States— Effects of oaths : Falsehood — General obligations.
CHAP. VIII. OF PARTICULAR OATHS ------ 159
Oath of allegiance— Oath in evidence — Perjury— Military oath — Oath against
bribery at elections — Oath against simony — University oaths — Subscrip
tion to articles of religion — Meaning of the thirty-nine articles literal — Re
fusal to subscribe.
CHAP. IX. IMMORAL AGENCY - ' - " ' - '••'•« '" - - - 167
Publication and circulation of books — Seneca — Circulating libraries — Public
houses — Prosecutions — Political affairs.
CHAP. X. THE INFLUENCE OF INDIVIDUALS UPON PUBLIC NOTIONS OF
MORALITY 172
Public notions of morality — Errors of public opinion : their effects — Duelling
— Scottish Bench — Glory — Military virtues — Military talent — Bravery —
Courage — Patriotism not the soldier's motive — Military fame — Public opin
ion of unchastity : In women : In men — Power of character — Character,
in legal men — Fame — Faults of great men — The press — Newspapers —
History.
CHAP. XI. INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION - * - - 191
Ancient Classics — London University — The classics in boarding-schools —
English grammar — Science and literature — Improved system of education
— Orthography : Writing : Reading : Geography : Natural History : Biog
raphy : Natural Philosophy : Political science — Indications of a revolution
in the system of education — Female education — The Society of Friends.
CHAP. XII. MORAL EDUCATION ______ 202
Union of moral principle with the affections — Society — Morality of the An
cient Classics — The supply of motives to virtue — Conscience — Subjugation
of the Will — Knowledge of our own minds — Offices of public worship.
CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE ----- 210
Advantages of extended education — Infant schools — Habits of inquiry.
AMUSEMENTS .__.--- 213
The stage — Religious amusements — Masquerades — Field-sports — The turf —
Boxing — Wrestling — Popular amusements needless.
CHAP. XV. DUELLING -------- 217
Pitt and Tierney — Duelling the offspring of intellectual meanness, fear, and
servility — " A fighting man" — Hindoo immolations — Wilberforce — Seneca.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. XVI. SUICIDE
" 221
Unmanliness of suicide — Forbidden in the New Testament Its folly Lema
lation respecting suicide— Verdict of felo-de-se.
CHAP. XVII. RIGHTS OF SELF-DEFENCE - . . 225
These rights not absolute — Their limits — Personal attack — Preservation of
property— Much resistance lawful— Effects of forbearance— Sharpe— Bar
clay — Ellwood.
ESSAY III.
POLITICAL RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS.
CHAP. I. PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL TRUTH, AND OF POLITICAL
RECTITUDE - _ - - - 232
I. "Political power is rightly exercised only when it is possessed by consent of
the community. "-Governors officers of the public-Transfer of their rights
by a whole people— The people hold the sovereign power— Right of govern
ors — A conciliating system.
II. "Political power is rightly exercised only when it subserves the welfare
of the community."— Interference with other nations— Present expedients
or present occasions— Proper business of governments.
Ill " Political power is rightly exercised only when it subserves the welfare of
the community by means which the Moral Law permits."— The Moral
Law alike binding on nations and individuals-Deviation from rectitude
impolitic—" The Holy Alliance."
CHAP. II. CIVIL LIBERTY -----__ 343
Loss of Liberty— War— Useless laws.
CHAP. III. POLITICAL LIBERTY 245
Political Liberty the right of a community— Public satisfaction.
CHAP. IV. RELIGIOUS LIBERTY 247
Civil disabilities— Interference of the magistrate— Pennsylvania— Toleration
—America— Creeds— Religious Tests—" The Catholic Question."
CHAP. V. CIVIL OBEDIENCE g53
Expediency of obedience— Obligations to obedience— Extent of the dutv-
Kesistance to the civil power— Obedience may be withdrawn— Kina James
dlfTan^r °n"COmplianCe~Interf0rCnCe °f the maSistrate— Oaths' of
CHAP. VI. FORMS OF GOVERNMENT 26o
Some general principles-Monarchy—Balance of interests and passions—
iin rovemennta C0nstltutlon~ P°Pular government— The world in a state of
CHAP. VII. POLITICAL INFLUENCE— PARTY— MINISTERIAL UNION 267
Inrluence of the Crown-Effects of influence-Incongruity of public notions-
Patronage-American States-Dependency on the mother country-Party
"
CONTENTS. 23
CHAP. VIII. BRITISH CONSTITUTION ...... 275
Influence of the crown — House of Lords — Candidates for a peerage — Sudden
creation of peers — The bench of bishops — Proxies — House of Commons —
The wishes of the people — Extension of the elective franchise — Universal
suffrage — Frequent elections — Modes of election — Annual parliaments — •
Qualiricyitions of voters and representatives — Of choosing the clergy — Duties
of a representative — Systematic opposition — Placemen and pensioners —
Posthumous fame.
CHAP. IX. MORAL LEGISLATION ------ 291
Duties of a ruler — The two objects of moral legislation — Education of the
people — Bible Society — Lotteries — Public houses — Abrogation of bad laws
— Primogeniture — Accumulation of property.
CHAP. X. ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE ----- 297
Substitution of justice for law — Court of Chancery — Of fixed laws — Their
inadequacy — Tney increase litigation — Delays — Expenses — Informalities —
Precedents — Verdicts — Legal proof — Courts of Arbitration — An extended
system of arbitration — Arbitration in criminal trials — Constitution of courts
of arbitration — Their effects — Technicalities — Useless laws.
CHAP. XI. OF THE PROPER SUBJECTS OF PENAL ANIMADVERSION 311
Crimes regarded by the civil and the moral law — Created offences — Seduction
- — Duelling — Insolvents — Criminal debtors — Gradations of guilt in insol
vency — Libels : Mode of punishing — Effects of the laws respecting libels —
Effects of public censure — Libels on the government — Advantages of a free
statement of the truth — Freedom of the press.
CHAP. XII. OF THE PROPER ENDS OF PUNISHMENT - 326
The three objects of punishment : Reformation of the offender : Example :
Restitution — Punishment may be increased as well as diminished.
CHAP. XIII. THE PUNISHMENT OF DEATH - 330
Of the three objects of punishment, the punishment of death regards but one —
Reformation of minor offenders : Greater criminals neglected — Capital pun
ishments not efficient as examples — Public executions — Paul — Murder —
The punishment of death irrevocable — Rousseau — Recapitulation.
CHAP. XIV. RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS 337
The primitive church — The established church of Ireland — America — Advan
tages and disadvantages of established churches — Alliance of a church with
the state — An established church perpetuates its own evils — Persecution
generally the growth of religious establishments — State religions injurious to
the civil welfare of a people — Legal provision for Christian teachers — Vo
luntary payment — Advancement in the church — The appointment of religious
teachers.
CHAP. XV. THE RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS OF ENGLAND AND
IRELAND ______--- 351
The English church the offspring of the Reformation ; the church establishment,
of papacy — Alliance of church and state — " The priesthood averse from
reformation" — Noble ecclesiastics — Purchase of advowsons — Non-residence
— Pluralities — Parlimentary returns — The clergy fear to preach the truth —
Moral preaching — Recoil from works of philanthropy — Tithes — " The church
is in danger" — The church establishment is in danger — Monitory suggestion.
CHAP. XVI. OF LEGAL PROVISION FOR CHRISTIAN TEACHERS OF VOLUN
TARY PAYMENT, AND OF UNPAID MINISTEIY - - - 373
Compulsory payment — America — Legal provision for one church unjust — Pay
ment of tithes by dissenters — Tithes a " property of the church" -Volun-
24 CONTENTS.
tary payment — The system of remuneration — Qualifications of a minister of
the gospel — Unpaid ministry — Days of greater purity.
CHAP. XVII. PATRIOTISM. ---._.« 383
Patriotism as it is viewed by Christianity — A patriotism which is opposed to
general benignity — Patriotism not the soldier's motive.
CHAP. XVIII. SLAVERY. r - - - - - - - - 386
Requisitions of Christianity professedly disregarded — Persian law — The slave
system a costly iniquity.
CHAP. XIX. WAR.
CAUSES OF WAR -------- 390
Want of inquiry : Indifference to human misery : National irritability : Interest :
Secret motives of cabinets : Ideas of glory — Foundation of military glory.
CONSEQUENCES OF WAR -_-_._ 397
Deslructicn of human life : Taxation : Moral depravity : Familiarity with
plunder : Implicit submission to superiors : Resignation of moral agency :
Bondage and degradation — Loan of armies — Effects on the community.
LAWFULNESS OF WAR ------- 404
Influence of habit — Of appealing to antiquity — The Christian Scriptures — Sub
jects of Christ's benediction — Matt, xxvii, 52 — The Apostles and Evan
gelists — The centurion — Cornelius — Silence not a proof of approbation —
Luke xxvii. 36 — John the Baptist — Negative evidence — Prophecies of the
Old Testament — The requisitions of Christianity of present obligation —
Primitive Christians — Example and testimony of early Christians — Christian
soldiers — Wars of the Jews — Duties of individuals and nations — Offensive
and defensive war — Wars always aggressive — Paley — War wholly forbidden.
OF THE PROBABLE PRACTICAL EFFECTS OF ADHERING TO THE
MORAL LAW IN RESPECT TO WAR - 424
Quakers in America and Ireland — Colonization of Pennsylvania — Unconditional
reliance on Providence — Recapitulation — General observations.
CONCLUSION --.-...-431
INTRODUCTORY NOTICES.
OF the two causes of our deviations from rectitude — want of knowledge
and want of virtue — the latter is undoubtedly the more operative. Want
of knowledge is, however, sometimes a cause ; nor can this be any sub
ject of wonder when it is recollected in what manner many of our no
tions of right and wrong are acquired. From infancy, every one is placed
in a sort of moral school, in which those with whom he associates, or of
whom he hears, are the teachers. That the learner in such a school
will often be taught amiss, is plain : so that we want information respect
ing our duties. To supply this information is an object of moral phi
losophy, and is attempted in the present work.
When it is considered by what excellences the existing treatises on
moral philosophy are recommended, there can remain but one reasonable
motive for adding yet another — the belief that these treatises have not
exhibited the principles and enforced the obligations of morality in all
their perfection and purity. Perhaps the frank expression of this belief
is not inconsistent with that deference which it becomes every man to
feel when he addresses the public ; because, not to have entertained such
a belief, were to have possessed no reason for writing. The desire of
supplying the deficiency, if deficiency there be ; of exhibiting a true and
authoritative standard of rectitude, and of estimating the moral character
of human actions by an appeal to that standard, is the motive which has
induced the composition of these Essays.
In the FIRST ESSAY the writer has attempted to investigate the Prin
ciples of Morality. In which term is here included, first, the ultimate
standard of right and wrong; and secondly, those subordinate rules to
which we are authorized to apply for the direction of our conduct in life.
In these investigations, he has been solicitous to avoid any approach to
curious or metaphysical inquiry. He has endeavoured to act upon the
advice given by Tindal the reformer to his friend John Frith : " Pro
nounce not or define of hid secrets, or things that neither help nor hinder
whether it be so or no ; but stick you stiffly and stubbornly in earnest
and necessary things."
In the SECOND ESSAY these principles of morality are applied in the
determination of various questions of personal and relative duty. In
making this application it has been far from the writer's desire to deliver
a system of morality. Of the unnumbered particulars to which this essay
might have been extended, he has therefore made a selection ; and in
making it, has chosen those subjects which appeared peculiarly to need the
inquiry, either because the popular or philosophical opinions respecting
them appeared to be unsound, or because they were commonly little adverted
to in the practice of life. Form has been sacrificed to utility. Many
great duties have been passed over, since no one questions their obliga
tion; nor has the author so little consulted the pleasure of the reader as
26 INTRODUCTORY NOTICES.
to expatiate upon duties simply because they are great. The reader will
also regard the subjects that have been chosen, as selected, not only for
the purpose of elucidating the subjects themselves, but as furnishing
illustrations of the general principles : — as the compiler of a book of
mathematics proposes a variety of examples, not merely to discover the
solution of the particular problem, but to familiarize the application of his
general rule.
Of the THIRD ESSAY, in which some of the great questions of political
:rectitude have been examined, the subjects are in themselves sufficiently
important. The application of sound and pure moral principles to ques'-
tions of government, of legislation, of the administration of justice, or
of religious establishments, is manifestly of great interest ; and the in
terest is so much the greater because these subjects have usually been
examined, as the writer conceives, by other and very different standards.
The reader will probably find, in each of these essays, some principles
or some conclusions respecting human duties to which he has not been
accustomed — some opinions called in question which he has habitually
regarded as being indisputably true, and some actions exhibited as for
bidden by morality which he has supposed to be lawful and right. In
such cases I must hope for his candid investigation of the truth, and that
he will not reject conclusions but by the detection of inaccuracy in the
reasonings from which they are deduced. I hope he will not find himself
invited to alter his opinions or his conduct without being shown why ;
and if he is conclusively shown this, that he will not reject truth because
it is new or unwelcome.
With respect to the present influence of the principles which these
essays illustrate, the author will feel no disappointment if it is not great.
It is not upon the expectation of such influence that his motive is founded
or his hope rests. His motive is, to advocate truth without reference to
its popularity ; and his hope is, to promote, by these feeble exertions, an
approximation to that state of purity, which he believes it is the design
of God shall eventually beautify and dignify the condition of mankind.
ESSAY I.
PART I.
PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY,
CHAPTER I.
MORAL OBLIGATION.
THERE is little hope of proposing a definition of moral obligation
which shall be satisfactory to every reader ; partly because the phrase
is the representative of different notions in individual minds. No single
definition can, it is evident, represent various notions ; and there are
probably no means by which the notions of individuals respecting moral
obligation, can be adjusted to one standard. Accordingly, while attempts
to define it have been very numerous, all probably have been unsatisfac
tory to the majority of mankind.
Happily this question, like many others upon which the world is unable
to agree, is of little practical importance. Many who dispute about
the definition, coincide in their judgments of what we are obliged to do
and to forbear : and so long as the individual knows that he is actually
the subject of moral obligation, and actually responsible to a superior
power, it is not of much consequence whether he can critically explain
in what moral obligation consists.
The writer of these pages, therefore, makes no attempts at strictness
of definition. It is sufficient for his purpose that man is under an obli
gation to obey his Creator ; and if any one curiously asks " Why ?" — he
answers, that one reason at least is, that the Deity possesses the power,
and evinces the intention, to call the human species to account for their
actions, and to punish or reward them.
There may be, and I believe there are, higher grounds upon which a
sense of moral obligation may be founded ; such as the love of goodness
for its own sake, or love and gratitude to God for his beneficence : nor
is it unreasonable to suppose that such grounds of obligation are espe
cially approved by the universal Parent of mankind.
28 NOTICES OF THEORIES. [ESSAY I.
CHAPTER II.
STANDARD OF RIGHT AND WRONG.
IT is obvious that to him who seeks the knowledge of his doty, the
first inquiry is, What is the rule of duty ? what is the standard of right
and wrong ? Most men, or most of those with whom we are concerned,
agree that this standard consists in the will of God. But here the coin
cidence of opinion stops. Various and very dissimilar answers are given
lo the question — How is the will of God to be discovered ? These dif
ferences lead to differing conclusions respecting human duty. All the
proposed modes of discovering his will cannot be the best nor the right ;
and those which are not right, are likely to lead to erroneous conclusions
respecting what his will is.
It becomes therefore a question of very great interest, — How is the
will of God to be discovered ? and, if there should appear to be more
sources than one from which it may be deduced* — What is that source
which, in our investigations, we are to regard as paramount to every
other ?
THE WILL OF GOD.
When we say that most men agree in referring to the will of God as
the standard of rectitude, we do not mean that all those who have framed
systems of moral philosophy have set out with this proposition as their
fundamental rule ; but we mean that the majority of mankind do really
believe (with whatever indistinctness), that they ought to obey the will
of God; and that, as it respects the systems of philosophical men, they
will commonly be found to involve, directly or indirectly, the same belief.
He who says that the "understanding"* is to be our moral guide, is not
far from saying that we are to be guided by the Divine will ; because the
understanding, however we define it, is the offspring of the Divine coun
sels and power. When Adam Smith resolves moral obligation into pro
priety arising from feelings of " sympathy,"! the conclusion is not very
different; for these feelings are manifestly the result of that constitution
which God gave to man. When Bishop Butler says that we ought to
live according to nature, and make conscience the judge whether we do
so live or not, a kindred observation arises, for the existence and nature
of conscience must be referred ultimately to the Divine will. Dr.
Samuel Clarke's philosophy is, that moral obligation is to be referred to
the eternal and necessary differences of things. This might appear less
obviously to have respect to the Divine will, yet Dr. Clarke himself
subsequently says, that the duties which these eternal differences of
things impose, " are also the express and unalterable will, command, and
law of God to his creatures, which he cannot but expect should be
observed by them in obedience to his supreme authority. "J Very simi«
* Dr. Price : Review of Principal Questions m Morals, f Theory of Moral Sentiments.
t Evidence of Natural and Revealed Relieion.
CHAP. 2.] NOTICES OF THEORIES. 29
lar is the practical doctrine of Wollaston. His theory is, that moral good
and evil consist in a conformity or disagreement with truth — " in treating
every thing as being what it in." But then he says, that to act by this
rule " must be agreeable to the will of God, and if so, the contrary must
be disagreeable to it, and, since there must be perfect rectitude in his
will, certainly wrong.'1''* It is the same with Dr. Paley, in his far-famed
doctrine of expediency. "It is the utility of any action alone which
constitutes the obligation of it ;" but this very obligation is deduced from
the Divine benevolence ; from which it is attempted to show, that a
regard to utility is enforced by the will of God. Nay, he says expressly,
" Every duty is a duty towards God, since it is his will which makes it a
duty."f
Now there is much value in these testimonies, direct or indirect, to
the truth — that the will of God is the standard of right and wrong. The
indirect testimonies are perhaps the more valuable of the two. He
who gives undesigned evidence in favour of a proposition, is less liable
to suspicion in his motives.
But, while we regard these testimonies, and such as these, as contain
ing satisfactory evidence that the will of God is our moral law, the
intelligent inquirer will perceive that many of the proposed theories are
likely to lead to uncertain and unsatisfactory conclusions respecting what
that will requires. They prove that his will is the standard, but they do
not clearly inform us how we shall bring our actions into juxtaposition
with it.
One proposes the understanding as the means ; but every observer
perceives that the understandings of men are often contradictory in their
decisions. Indeed, many of those who now think their understandings
dictate the rectitude of a given aqtion, will find that the understandings
of the intelligent pagans of antiquity came to very different conclusions.
A second proposes sympathy, regulated indeed and restrained, but still
sympathy. However ingenious a philosophical system may be, I believe
that good men find, in the practice of life, that these emotions are fre
quently unsafe and sometimes erroneous guides of their conduct. Be
sides, the emotions are to be regulated and restrained : which of itself
intimates the necessity of a regulating and restraining, that is, of a
superior power.
To say we should act according to the " eternal and necessary differ
ences of things," is to advance a proposition which nine persons out of
ten do not understand, and of course cannot adopt in practice ; and of
those who do understand it, perhaps an equal majority cannot apply it,
with even tolerable facility, to the concerns of life. Why indeed should
a writer propose these eternal differences, if he acknowledges that the
rules of conduct which result from them are "the express will and
command of God ?"
To the system of a fourth, which says that virtue consists in a " con
formity of our actions with truth," the objection presents itself — What is
truth ? or how, in the complicated affairs of life, and in the moment per
haps of sudden temptation, shall the individual discover what truth is ?
Similar difficulties arise in applying the doctrine of Utility, in " ad
justing our actions so as to promote, in the greatest degree, the happiness
of mankind." It is obviously difficult to apply this doctrine in practice.
* Religion of Nature delineated. f Moral and Political Philosophy.
30 UTILITY OF DIRECT LAWS FROM GOD. [ESSAT I.
The welfare of mankind depends upon circumstances which, if it were
possible, it is not easy to foresee. Indeed in many of those conjunctures
in which important decisions must instantly be made, the computation of
tendencies to general happiness is wholly impracticable.
Besides these objections which apply to the systems separately, there
is one which applies to them all — That they do not refer us directly to
the will of God. They interpose a medium ; and it is the inevitable
tendency of all such mediums to render the truth uncertain. They de
pend not indeed upon hearsay evidence, but upon something of which
the tendency is the same. They seek the will of God not from positive
evidence, but by implication ; and we repeat the truth, that every medium
that is interposed between the Divine will and our estimates of it,
diminishes the probability that we shall estimate it rightly.
These are considerations which, antecedently to all others, would
prompt us to seek the will of God directly and immediately ; and it is
evident that this direct and immediate knowledge of the Divine will,
can in no other manner be possessed than by his own communication
of it,
THE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD.
That a direct communication of the will of the Deity respecting the
conduct which mankind shall pursue, must be very useful to them, can
need little proof. It is sufficiently obvious that they who have had no
access to the written revelations, have commonly entertained very imper
fect views of right and wrong. What Dr. Johnson says of the ancient
epic poets, will apply generally to pagan philosophers : They " were
very unskilful teachers of virtue," because " they wanted the light of
revelation." Yet these men were inquisitive and acute, and it may be
supposed they would have discovered moral truth if sagacity and in-
quisitiveness had been sufficient for the task. But it is unquestionable,
that there are many ploughmen in this country who possess more accu
rate knowledge of morality than all the sages of antiquity. We do not
indeed sufficiently consider for how much knowledge respecting the Di
vine will we are indebted to his own communication- of it. " Many ar
guments, many truths, both moral and religious, which appear to us the
products of our understandings and the fruits of ratiocination, are in
reality nothing more than emanations from Scripture ; rays of the gospel
imperceptibly transmitted, and as it were conveyed to our minds in a side
light."* Of Lord Herbert's book, De Veritate, which was designed to dis
prove the validity of Revelation, it is observed by the editor of his
" Life," that it is " a book so strongly imbued with the light of revelation
relative to the moral virtues and a future life, that no man ignorant of the
Scriptures, or of the knowledge derived from them, could have written
it."f A modern system of moral philosophy is founded upon the duty of
doing good to man, because it appears, from the benevolence of God him
self, that such is his will. Did those philosophers then who had no ac
cess to the written expression of his will discover, with any distinctness,
this seemingly obvious benevolence of God ? No. " The heathens failed
* Balguy ; Tracts moral and theological :— Second Letter to a Deist. t 4th Ed. p. 336.
CHAP. 2.] THE EXPRESSED WILL OF GOD. 31
of drawing that deduction relating to morality to which, as we should now
judge, the most obvious parts of natural knowledge, and such as cer
tainly obtained among them, were sufficient to lead them, namely, the
goodness of God"* — We are, I say, much more indebted to revelation
for moral light than we commonly acknowledge or indeed commonly
perceive.
But if in fact we obtain from the communication of the will of God,
knowledge of wider extent and of a higher order than was otherwise at
tainable, is it not an argument that that communicated will should be
our supreme law, and that if any of the inferior means of acquiring moral
knowledge lead to conclusions in opposition to that will, they ought to
give way to its higher authority ?
Indeed, the single circumstance that an Omniscient Being, and who also
is the Judge of mankind, has expressed his will respecting their con
duct, appears a sufficient evidence that they should regard that expression
as their paramount rule. They cannot elsewhere refer to so high an
authority. If the expression of his will is not the ultimate standard of
right and wrong, it can only be on the supposition that his will itself is
not the ultimate standard ; for no other means of ascertaining that will
can be equally perfect and authoritative.
Another consideration is this, that if we examine those sacred volumes
in which the written expression of the Divine will is contained, we find
that they habitually proceed upon the supposition that the will of God,
being expressed, is for that reason our final law. They do not set about
formal proofs that we ought to sacrifice inferior rules to it, but conclude,
as of course, that if the will of God is made known, human duty is
ascertained. " It is not to be imagined that the Scriptures would refer to
any other foundation of virtue than the true one, and certain it is that the
foundation to which they constantly do refer is the will of God^\ Nor
is this all : they refer to the expression of the will of God. We hear
nothing of any other ultimate authority — nothing of "sympathy" — no
thing of the " eternal fitness of things" — nothing of the " production of
the greatest sum of enjoyment ;" — but we hear, repeatedly, constantly,
of the will of God ; of the voice of God ; of the commands of God.
To " be obedient unto his voice "^ is the condition of favour. To hear
the " sayings of Christ and do them," § is the means of obtaining his
approbation. To " fear God and keep his commandments, is the whole
duty of man."|| Even superior intelligences are described as " doing his
commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word"T In short, the
•whole system of moral legislation, as it is exhibited in Scripture, is a
system founded upon authority. The propriety, the utility of the requi
sitions are not made of importance. That which -is made of importance
is the authority of the Being who legislates. " Thus saith the Lord,"
is regarded as constituting a sufficient and a final law. So also it is with
the moral instructions of Christ. " He put the truth of what he taught
upon authority."** In the sermon on the mount, / say unto you is pro
posed as the sole, and sufficient, and ultimate ground of obligation. He
does not say, My precepts will promote human happiness, therefore you
are to obey them : but he says, They are my precepts, therefore you are
to obey them. So habitually is this principle borne in mind, if we may
* Pearson : Remarks on the Theory of Morals. t Pearson : Theory of Mor. c. 1.
J Deut. iv. 30. $ Matt. vii. 24. || Eccl. xii. 13.
T Ps. ciii. 20. ** Paley : Evid. of Chris, p. 2, c. 2.
32 STANDARD OF RIGHT AND WRONG. [ESSAY I.
so speak, by those who were commissioned to communicate the Divine
will, that the reason of a precept is not often assigned. The assump
tion evidently was, that the Divine will was all that it was necessary for
us to know. This is not the mode of enforcing duties which one man
usually adopts in addressing another. He discusses the reasonableness
of his advices and the advantages of following them, as well as, perhaps,
the authority from which he derives them. The difference that exists
between such a mode and that which is actually adopted in Scripture, is
analogous to that which exists between the mode in which a piarent com
municates his instructions to a young child, and that which is employed
by a tutor to an intelligent youth. The tutor recommends his instruc
tions by their reasonableness and propriety : the father founds his upon
his own authority. Not that the father's instructions are not also founded
in propriety, but that this, in respect of young children, is not the ground
upon which he expects their obedience. It is not the ground upon which
God expects the obedience of man. We can, undoubtedly, in general
perceive the wisdom of his laws, and it is doubtless right to seek out that
wisdom ; but whether we discover it or not, does not lessen their autho
rity nor alter our duties.
In deference to these reasonings, then, we conclude, that the communi
cated will of God is the final standard of right and wrong — that where
soever this will is made known, human duty is determined — and that
neither the conclusions of philosophers, nor advantages, nor dangers, nor
pleasures, nor sufferings, ought to have any opposing influence in regu
lating our conduct. Let it be remembered, that in morals there can be
no equilibrium of authority. If the expressed will of the Deity is not
our supreme rule, some other is superior. This fatal consequence is in
separable from the adoption of any other ultimate rule of conduct. The
Divine law becomes the decision of a certain tribunal — the adopted rule,
the decision of a superior tribunal — for that must needs be the superior
which can reverse the decisions of the other. It is a consideration,
too, which may reasonably alarm the inquirer, that if once we as
sume this power of dispensing with the Divine law, there is no limit to
its exercise. If we may supersede one precept of the Deity upon one
occasion, we may supersede every precept upon all occasions. Man be
comes the greater authority, and God the less.
If a proposition is proved to be true, no contrary reasonings can show
it to be false ; and yet it is necessary to refer to such reasonings, not in
deed for the sake of the truth, but for the sake of those whose conduct
it should regulate. Their confidence in truth may be increased if they
discover that the reasonings which assail it are fallacious. To a con
siderate man it will be no subject of wonder, that the supremacy of the
expressed will of God is often not recognised in the writings of moral
ists or in the practice of life. The speculative inquirer finds, that of
some of the questions which come before him, Scripture furnishes no
solution, and he seeks for some principle by which all may be solved.
This indeed is the ordinary course of those who erect systems, whether
in morals or in physics. The moralist acknowledges, perhaps, the au
thority of revelation ; but in his investigations he passes away from the
procepts of revelation, to some of those subordinate means by which
human duties may be discovered — means which, however authorized by
the Deity as subservient to his purpose of human instruction, are wholly
unauthorized as ultimate standards of right and wrong. Having fixed
CHAP. 2.] CAUSES OF ITS REJECTION. 33
his attention upon these subsidiary means, he practically loses sight of
the Divine law which he acknowledges ; and thus without any formal,
perhaps without any conscious, rejection of the expressed will of God,
he really makes it subordinate to inferior rules. Another influential motive
to pass by the Divine precepts, operates both upon writers and upon the
public : — the rein which they hold upon the desires and passions of
mankind is more tight than they are willing to bear. Respecting some
of these precepts we feel as the rich man of old felt ; we hear the injunc
tion and go away, if not with sorrow, yet without obedience. Here again
is an obvious motive to the writer to endeavour to substitute some less
rigid rule of conduct, and an obvious motive to the reader to acquiesce in it
as true without a very rigid scrutiny into its foundation. To adhere with
fidelity to the expressed will of Heaven, requires greater confidence
in God than most men are willing to repose, or than most moralists are
willing to recommend.
But whatever have been the causes, the fact is indisputable, that few
or none of the systems of morality which have been offered to the world,
have uniformly and consistently applied the communicated will of God
in determination of those questions to which it is applicable. Some in
sist upon its supreme authority in general terms ; others apply it in de
termining some questions of rectitude : but where is the work that ap
plies it always ? Where is the moralist who holds every thing, ease, in
terest, reputation, expediency, "honour," — personal and national, — in
subordination to this moral law ?
One source of ambiguity and of error in moral philosophy has con
sisted in the indeterminate use of the term, " the will of God." It is used
without reference to the mode by which that will is to be discovered —
and it. is in this mode that the essence of the controversy lies. We are
agreed that the will of God is to be our rule : the question at issue is,
What mode of discovering it should be primarily adopted ? Now the
term, the " will of God," has been applied, interchangeably, to the pre
cepts of Scripture, and to the deductions which have been made from
other principles. The consequence has been that the imposing sanction,
" the will of God," has been applied to propositions of very different
authority.
To inquire into the validity of all those principles which have been
proposed as the standard of rectitude, would be foreign to the purpose of
this essay. That principle which appears to be most recommended by
its own excellence and beauty, and which obtains the greatest share of
approbation in the \vorld, is the principle of directing " every action so
as to produce the greatest happiness and the least misery in our power."
The particular forms of defining the doctrine are various, but they may
be conveniently included in the one general term — expediency.
We say that the apparent beauty and excellence of this rule of action
are so captivating, its actual acceptance in the world is so great, and the
reasonings by which it is supported are so acute, that if it can be shown
that this rule is not the ultimate standard of right and wrong, we may
safely conclude that none other which philosophy has proposed can make
pretensions to such authority. The truth indeed is, that the objections
to the doctrine of expediency will generally be found to apply to every
doctrine which lays claim to moral supremacy — which application the
reader is requested to make for himself as he passes along.
Respecting the principle of expediency — the doctrine that we should,
2 C
34 PRINCIPLES OF EXPEDIENCY, [ESBAY I.
in eveiy action, endeavour to produce the greatest sum of human happi
ness — let it always be remembered that the only question is, whether it
ought to be the paramount rule of human conduct. No one doubts
whether it ought to influence us, or whether it is of £reat importance in
estimating the duties of morality. The sole question is this : — When
an expression of the will of God, and our calculations respecting human
happiness, lead to different conclusions respecting the rectitude of an
action — whether of the two shall we prefer and obey ?
V7e are concerned only with Christian writers. Now, when we come
to analyze the principles of the Christian advocates of expediency, we
find precisely the result which we should expect — a perpetual vacillation
between two irreconcilable doctrines. As Christians, they necessarily
acknowledge the authority, and, in words at least, the supreme authority
of the Divine law : as advocates of the universal application of the
law of expediency, they necessarily sometimes set aside the Divine law,
because they sometimes cannot deduce, from both laws, the same rule
of action. Thus there is induced a continual fluctuation and uncertainty
both in principles and in practical rules : a continual endeavour to "serve
two masters."
Of these fluctuations an example is given in the article " Moral Phi
losophy," in Rees's Encyclopaedia, — an article in which the principles
of Hartley are in a considerable degree adopted. " The Scripture pre
cepts," says the writer, " are in themselves the rule of life." — " The
supposed tendency of actions can never be put against the law of God
as delivered to us by revelation, and should not therefore be made our
chief guide." This is very explicit. Yet the same article says, that
the first great rule is, that " we should aim to direct every action so as
to produce the greatest happiness and the least misery in our power."
This rule however is somewhat difficult of application, and therefore
" instead of this most general rule we must substitute others, less gen
eral and subordinate to it:" of which subordinate rules, to "obey the
Scripture precepts" is one ! — I do not venture to presume that these wri-
Jers do really mean what their words appear to mean, — that the law of
God is supreme and yet that it is subordinate, — but one thing is perfectly
clear, that either they make the vain attempt to " serve two masters," or
that they employ language very laxly and very dangerously.
The high language of Dr. Paley respecting expediency as a para
mount law, is well known : — " Whatever is expedient is right."* — " The
obligation of every law depends upon its ultimate utility."! — " It is the
utility of any moral rule alone which constitutes the obligation of it."J
Perjury, robbery, and murder " are not useful, and for that reason, and
that reason only, are not right."^ It is obvious that this language affirms
that utility is a higher authority than the expressed will of God. If the
utility of a moral rule alone constitutes the obligation of it. then is its
obligation not constituted by the Divine command. If murder is wrong
only because it is not useful, it is not wrong because Cod has said
" Thou shalt not kill."
But Paley was a Christian, and therefore could neither formally displace
the Scripture precepts from their station of supremacy, nor avoid formally
acknowledging that they were supreme. Accordingly he says, " There
are two methods of coming at the will of God on any point : First — By
• Mor. and Pol. Phil. B. 2, c. 6. t B. 6. c. 12. $ B. 2. c. 6. $ Ibid.
CHAP. 2.] FLUCTUATING AND INCONSISTENT. 35
his express declarations, when they are to be had, and which must be
sought for in Scripture."* Secondly — By Expediency. And again, When
Scripture precepts " are clear and positive, there is an end to all farther
deliberation.''! This makes the expressed will of God the final standard
of right and wrong. And here is the vacillation, the attempt to serve two
masters of which we speak : for this elevation of the express declarations
of God to the supremacy, is absolutely incompatible with the doctrines
that are quoted in the preceding paragraph.
These incongruities of principle are sometimes brought into operation
in framing practical rules. In the chapter on Suicide, it is shown that
Scripture disallows the act. Here then we might conclude that there
was " an end to all further deliberation;" and yet, in the same chapter,
we are told that suicide would nevertheless be justifiable if it were expe
dient. Respecting civil obedience, he says, the Scriptures " inculcate the
duty" and " enforce the obligation ;" but notwithstanding this, he pro
nounces that the " only ground of the subjects' obligation" consists in
expediency, ,\ If it consists only in expediency, the Divine law upon the
subject is a dead letter. In one chapter he says that murder would be
right if it was useful, § in another, that " one word" of prohibition " from
Christ is JinaL"\\ The words of Christ cannot be final, if we are after
ward to inquire whether murder is "useful" or not. One other illustra
tion will suffice. In laying down the rights of the magistrate, as to
making laws respecting religion, he makes utility the ultimate standard ;
so that whatever the magistrate thinks is useful to ordain, that he has a
right to ordain. But in stating the subjects' duties as to obeying laws
respecting religion, he makes the commands of God the ultimate standard. IP
The consequence is inevitable, that it is right for the magistrate to com
mand an act, and right for the subject to refuse to obey it. In a sound
system of morality, such contradictions would be impossible. There is
a contradiction even in terms. In one place he says, " Wherever there
is aright in one person, there is a corresponding obligation upon others."**
In another place, " The right of the magistrate to ordain, and the obliga
tion of the subject to obey, in matters of religion, may be very different." ff
Perhaps the reader will say that these inconsistencies, however they
may impeach the skilfulness of the writer, do not prove that his system
is unsound, or that utility is not. still the ultimate standard of rectitude.
We answer, that to a Christian writer, such inconsistencies are unavoid
able. He is obliged, in conformity with the principles of his religion, to
acknowledge the divine, and therefore the supreme authority of Scripture ;
and if, in addition to this, he assumes that any other is supreme, incon
sistency must ensue. For the same consequence follows the adoption
of any other ultimate standard — whether sympathy, or right reason, or
eternal fitness, or nature. If the writer is a Christian he cannot, without
falling into inconsistencies, assert the supremacy of any of these princi
ples : that is to say, when the precepts of Scripture dictate one action,
and a reasoning from his principle dictates another, he must make his
election : if he prefers his principle, Christianity is abandoned : if he,
prefers Scripture, his principle is subordinate : if he alternately prefers
the one and the other, he falls into the vacillation and inconsistency of
which we speak.
*• Mor. & Pol. Phil. B. 2, c. 4. f B. 2, c. 4 : Note. t B. 6, c. 3. $ B. 2. c, 6.
I! B. 3, p. 3, c. 2. f B. 6, p. 3, c. 10. ** B. 2, c. 9.
tfB,. 6, p. 3c. 10.
C2
36 OF EXPEDIENCY— DIFFICULTIES ATTENDING IT. [ESSAY 1
Bearing still in mind that the rule " to endeavour to produce the
greatest happiness in our power," is objectionable only when it is made
an ultimate rule, the reader is invited to attend to these short con
siderations.
I. In computing human happiness, the advocate of expediency does
not sufficiently take into the account our happiness in futurity. Nor
indeed does he always take it into account at all. One definition says,
4< The test of the morality of an act is its tendency to promote the
temporal advantage of the greatest number in the society to which we
belong." Now many things may be very expedient if death were anni
hilation, which may be very inexpedient now : and therefore it is not
unreasonable to expect, nor an unreasonable exercise of humility to act
upon the expectation, that the Divine laws may sometimes impose obliga
tions of which we do not perceive the expediency or the use. " It may
so fall out," says Hooker, " that the reason why some laws of God were
given, is neither opened nor possible to be gathered by the wit of man."*
And Pearson says, " There are many parts of morality, as taught by
revelation, which are entirely independent of an accurate knowledge of
nature."! And Gisborne, " Our experience of God's dispensations by no
means permits us to affirm, that he always thinks fit to act in such a
manner as is productive of particular expediency ; much less to conclude
that he wills us always to act in such a manner as we suppose would be
productive of it."! All this sufficiently indicates that expediency is
wholly inadmissible as an ultimate rule.
II. The doctrine is altogether unconnected with the Christian revela
tion, or with any revelation from Heaven. It was just as true, and the
deductions from it just as obligatory, two or five thousand years ago as
now. The alleged supreme law of morality — " Whatever is expedient
is right" — might have been taught by Epictetus as well as by a modern
Christian. But are we then to be told that the revelations from the Deity
have conveyed no moral knowledge to man ? that they make no act
obligatory which was not obligatory before ? that he who had the fortune
to discover that " whatever is expedient is right," possessed a moral law
just as perfect as that which God has ushered into the world, and much
more comprehensive 1
III. If some subordinate rule of conduct were proposed, — some princi
ple which served as an auxiliary moral guide, — I should not think it a
valid objection to its truth, to be told that no sanction of the principle was
to be found in the written revelation : but if some rule of conduct were
proposed as being of universal obligation, some moral principle which
\vas paramount to every other — and I discovered that this principle was
unsanctioned by the written revelation, I should think this want of
sanction was conclusive evidence against it : because it is not credible
that a revelation from God, of which one great object was to teach man
kind the moral law of God, would have been silent respecting a rule of
conduct which was to be a universal guide to man. We apply these
considerations to the doctrine of expediency : Scripture contains not a
word upon the subject.
IV. The principles of expediency necessarily proceed upon the suppo
sition that we are to investigate the future, and this investigation is, as
every one knows, peculiarly without the limits of human sagacity : an
• Eccles. Polity, b. 3, s. 10. f Theory of Morals, c. 3. J Principles of Mor. Phil
CHAP. 2.] LIABILITY TO ABUSE. 37
objection which derives additional force from the circumstance that an
action, in order to be expedient, " must be expedient on the whole at the
long run, in all its effects collateral and remote."* I do not know
whether, if a man should sit down expressly to devise a moral principle
which should be uncertain and difficult in its application, he could devise
one that would be more difficult and uncertain than this. So that, as Dr. /
Paley himself acknowledges, " It is impossible to ascertain every duty
by an immediate reference to public utility."! The reader may therefore .
conclude with Dr. Johnson, that "by presuming to determine what is fit
and what is beneficial, they presuppose more knowledge of the universal
system than man has attained, and therefore depend upon principles too
complicated and extensive for our comprehension : and there can be no
security in the consequence when the premises are not understood.^
V. But whatever may be the propriety of investigating all consequences
*' collateral and remote.," it is certain that such an investigation is possible
only in that class of moral questions which allows a man time to sit down
and deliberately to think and compute. As it respects that large class
of cases in which a person must decide and act in a moment, it is wholly
useless. There are thousands of conjectures in life in which a man can
no more stop to calculate effects collateral and remote, than he can stop
to cross the Atlantic : and it is difficult to conceive that any rule of
morality can be absolute and universal, which is totally inapplicable to so
large a portion of human affairs.
VI. Lastly, the rule of expediency is deficient in one of the first
requisites of a moral law — obviousness and palpability of sanction.
What is the process by which the sanction is applied ? Its advocates
say, the Deity is a benevolent Being : as he is benevolent himself, it is
reasonable to conclude he wills that his creatures should be benevolent to
one another: this benevolence is to be exercised by adapting every
action to the promotion of the " universal interest" of man : " Whatever
is expedient is right :" or, God wills that we should consult expediency.
Now we say that there are so many considerations placed between the
rule and the act, that the practical authority of the rule is greatly dimin
ished. It is easy to perceive that the authority of a rule will not come
home to that man's mind, who is told, respecting a given action, that its
effect upon the universal interest is the only thing that makes it right or
wrong. All the doubts that arise as to this effect are so many diminutions
of the sanction. It is like putting half a dozen new contingencies
between the act of thieving and the conviction of a jury; and every one
knows that the want of certainty of penalty is a great encouragement to
offences. The principle too is liable to the most extravagant abuse — or
rather extravagant abuse is, in the present condition of mankind, insepa
rable from its general adoption. " Whatever is expedient is right," solilo
quizes the moonlight adventurer into the poultry yard : " It will tend
more to the sum of human happiness that my wife and I should dine on a
capon, than that the farmer should feel the satisfaction of possessing it ;"
— and so he mounts the hen-roost. I do not say that this hungry moralist
would reason soundly, but I say that he would not listen to the philosophy
which replied, "Oh, your reasoning is incomplete: you must take into
account all consequences collateral and remote ; and then you will find
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 2, c. 8. f B. 6, c 12. J Western Isles.
38 PAGANS. [EssAY r
that it is more expedient, upon the whole and at the long run, that you and
your wife should be hungry, than that hen-roosts should be insecure."
It is happy, however, that this principle never can be generally applied
to the private duties of man. Its abuses would be so enormous that the
laws would take, as they do in fact take, better measures for regulating
men's conduct than this doctrine supplies. And happily, too, the Univer
sal Lawgiver has not left mankind without more distinct and more influ
ential perceptions of his will and his authority, than they could ever
derive from the principles of expediency.
But an objection has probably presented itself to the reader, that the
greater part of mankind have no access to the written expression of the
will of God ; and how, it may be asked, can that be the final standard
of right and wrong for the human race, of which the majority of the race
have never heard ? The question is reasonable and fair.
We answer then, first, that supposing most men to be destitute of a
communication of the Divine will, it does not affect the obligations of
those who do possess it. That communication is the final law to me,
whether my African brother enjoys it or not. Every reason by which
the supreme authority of the law is proved, is just as applicable to those
who do enjoy the communication of it, whether that communication is
enjoyed by many or by few : and this, so far as the argument is con
cerned, appears to be a sufficient answer. If any man has no direct
access to his Creator's will, let him have recourse to " eternal fitnesses "
or to "expediency ;".but his condition does not affect thai of another man
who does possess this access.
But our real reply to the objection is, that they who are destitute of
Scripture are not destitute of a direct communication to the will Of God
I he proof of this position must be deferred to a subsequent chapter-
and the reader is solicited for the present to allow us to assume its truth'
Ihis direct communication maybe limited, it maybe incomplete but
»ome communication exists ; enough to assure them that some things
are acceptable to the Supreme Power, and that some are not; enough to
licate a distinction between right and wrong; enough to make them
ioral agents, and reasonably accountable to our common Judge. If
these principles are true, and especially if the amount of the communi-
ion 18 in many cases considerable, it is obvious that it will be of great
value m the direction of individual conduct. We say of individual 'con-
ict, because it is easy to perceive that it would not often subserve the
urposesof him who frames public rules of morality. A person may
possess a satisfactory assurance in his own mind, that a given action is
inconsistent with the Divine will, but that assurance is ntt conveyed to
Th^whmh SS fa[UC1Pa'es in the evidence upon which it is founded
Ihat which is wanted in order to supply public rules for human conduct,
h t yaV?UCV aul7h°nt^ so that a writer, in deducing those
aS a^ ultimatel^° that standard which God has publicly
CHAP. 3.] SUBORDINATE MORAL RULES. 39
I
CHAPTER III.
SUBORDINATE STANDARDS OF RIGHT AND WRONG.
THE written expression of the Divine will does not contain, and no
writings can contain, directions for our conduct in every circumstance of
life. If the precepts of Scripture were multiplied a hundred or a thou
sand fold, there would still arise a multiplicity of questions to which
none of them would specifically apply. Accordingly, there are some
subordinate authorities, to which, as can be satisfactorily shown, it is the
will of God that we should refer. He who does refer to them and reg
ulates his conduct by them, conforms to the will of God.
To a son who is obliged to regulate all his actions by his father's will,
there are two ways in which he may practise obedience — one, by re
ceiving, upon each subject, his father's direct instructions, and the other,
by receiving instructions from those whom his father commissions to
teach him. The parent may appoint a governor, and enjoin that, upon
all questions of a certain kind the son shall conform to his instructions :
and if the son does this, he as truly and really performs his father's will,
and as strictly makes that will the guide of his conduct, as if he re
ceived the instructions immediately from his parent. But if the father
have laid down certain general rules for his son's observance, as that he
shall devote ten hours a day to study and not less — although the governor
should recommend or even command him to devote fewer hours, he may
not comply ; for if lie does, the governor and not his father is his su
preme guide. The subordination is destroyed.
This case illustrates, perhaps with sufficient precision, the situation
of mankind with respect to moral rules. Our Creator has given direc t
laws, some general and some specilic. These are of final authority.
But he has also sanctioned, or permitted an application to, other rules ;
and in conforming to these, so long as we hold them in subordination to
his laws, we perform his will.
Of these subordinate rules it were possible to enumerate many. Per
haps, indeed, few principles have been proposed as " the fundamental
rules of virtue," which may not rightly be brought into use by the
Christian in regulating his conduct in life : for the objection to many of
these principles is, not so much that they are useless, as that they are
unwarranted as paramount laws. " Sympathy" may be of use, and
"nature" may be of use, and "self-love," and "benevolence;" and, to
those who know what it means, " eternal fitnesses" too.
Some of the subordinate rules of conduct it will be proper hereafter
to notice, in order to discover, if we can, how far their authority extends
and where it 'ceases. The observations that we shall have to offer upon
them may conveniently be made under these heads : The Law of the
Land : The Law of Nature : The Promotion of human Happiness, or
Expediency : The Law of Nations : The Law of Honour.
These observations will however necessarily be preceded by an in
quiry into the great principles of human duty as they are delivered in
Scripture, and into the reality of that communication of the Divine will
to tho mind, wnirh tho wodAr has been requested to allow us to assume.
40 MORAL AND RELIGIOUS OBLIGATIONS. [ESSAY L
CHAPTER IV.
COLLATERAL OBSERVATIONS.
The reader is requested to regard the present chapter as parenthetical. The parenthesis
is inserted here, because the writer does not know where more appropriately to place it.
IDENTICAL AUTHORITY OF MORAL AND RELIGIOUS OBLIGATIONS.
THIS identity is a truth to which we do not sufficiently advert either
in our habitual sentiments or in our practice. There are many persons
who speak of religious duties as if there were something sacred or im
perative in their obligation that does not belong to duties of morality, —
many, who would perhaps offer up their lives rather than profess a belief
in a false religious dogma, but who would scarcely sacrifice an hour's
gratification rather than violate the moral law of love. It is therefore of
importance to remember, that the authority which imposes moral obligations
and religious obligations is one and the same — the will of God. Fidelity
to God is just as trvly violated by a neglect of his moral laws as by a
compromise of religious principles. Religion and morality are abstract
terms, employed to indicate different classes of those duties which the
Deity has imposed upon mankind: but they are all imposed by Him, and
all are enforced by equal authority. Not indeed that the violation of every
p. rticular portion of the Divine will involves equal guilt, but that each
volation is equally a disregard of the Divine authority. Whether, there-
f re, fidelity be required to a point of doctrine or of practice, to theology
o to morals, the obligation is the same. It is the Divine requisition
lihich constitutes this obligation, and not the nature of the duty required:
EO that, while I think a Protestant does no more than his duty when he
prefers death to a profession of the Roman Catholic faith, I think also
that every Christian who believes that Christ has prohibited swearing,
does no more than his duty when he prefers death to taking an oath.
I would especially solicit the reader to bear in mind this principle of
the identity of the authority of moral and religious obligations, because
he ma/ otherwise imagine that, in some of the subsequent pages, the ob
ligation of a moral law is too strenuously insisted on, and that fidelity to
it is to be purchased at " too great a sacrifice of ease and enjoyment."
THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES.
The purpose for which a reference is here made to these sacred sub
jects, is to remark upon the unfitness of attempting to deduce human
duties from the attributes of God. It is not indeed to be affirmed that
no illustration of those duties can be derived from them, bu: tnat they are
too imperfectly cognizable by our perceptions to enable us to refer to
them for specific moral rules. The truth indeed is, that we do not ac
curately and distinctly know what the Divine attributes are. We say
CHAP. 4.] VIRTUE. 41
that God is merciful : but if we attempt to define, with strictness, what
the term merciful means, we shall find it a difficult, perhaps an imprac
ticable task : and especially we shall have a difficult task if, after the
definition, we attempt to reconcile every appearance which presents
itself in the world, with our notions of the attribute of mercy. I would
speak with reverence when I say, that we cannot always perceive the
mercifulness of the Deity in his administrations, either towards his ra
tional or his irrational creation. So again in respect of the attribute of
justice : who can determinately define in what this attribute consists ?
Who, especially, can prove that the Almighty designs that we should
always be able to trace his justice in his government ? We believe that
he is unchangeable : but what is the sense in which we understand the
term ? Do we mean that the attribute involves the necessity of an un
changing system of moral government, or that the Deity cannot make
alterations in, or additions to, his laws for mankind ? We cannot mean
this, for the evidence of revelation disproves it.
Now if it be true that the Divine attributes,, and the uniform accord-
ancy of the Divine dispensations with our notions of those attributes, are
not sufficiently within our powers of investigation to enable us to frame
accurate premises for our reasoning, it is plain that we cannot always
trust with safety to our conclusions. We cannot deduce rules for our
conduct from the Divine attributes, without being very liable to error ;
and the liability will increase in proportion as the deduction attempts
critical accuracy.
Yet this is a rock upon which the judgments of many have suffered
wreck, a quicksand where many have been involved in inextricable diffi
culty. One, because he cannot reconcile the commands to exterminate
a people with his notions of the attribute of mercy, questions the truth
of the Mosaic writings. One, because he finds wars permitted by the
Almighty of old, concludes that, as he is unchangeable, they cannot be
incompatible with his present or his future will. One, on the supposi
tion of this unchangeableness, perplexes himself because the dispensa
tions of God and his laws have been changed ; and vainly labours, by
classifying these laws into those which result from his attributes and
those which do not, to vindicate the immutability of God. We have no
business with these things : and I will venture to affirm that he who will take
nothing upon trust — who will exercise no faith — who will believe in the
divine authority of no rule, and in the truth of no record, which he is
unable to reconcile with the Divine attributes — must be consigned to
hopeless Pyrrhonism.
The lesson which such considerations teach is a simple but an im
portant one : That our exclusive business is to discover the actual pres
ent will of God, without inquiring why his will is such as it is, or why
it has ever been different ; and without seeking to deduce, from our
notions of the Divine attributes, rules of conduct which are more safely
and more certainly discovered by other means.
VIRTUE. jot. ,--•
The definitions which have been proposed of virtue have necessarily-
been both numerous and various, because many and discordant standards
of rectitude have been advanced : and virtue must, in every man's sys-
42 VIRTUE
tern, essentially consist in conforming the conduct to the standard whicfr
he thinks is the true one. This must be true of those systems, at least
which make virtue consist in doing right. — Adam Smith indeed says, tha
"Virtue is excellence ; something uncommonly great and beautiful, which
rises far above what is vulgar and ordinary/'* By which it would ap
pear that virtue is a relative quality, depending not upon some perfect or
permanent standard, but upon the existing practice of mankind. Thus
the action which possessed no virtue among a good community, might
possess much in a bad one. The practice which " rose far above" the
ordinary practice of one nation, might be quite common in another t and
if mankind should become much worse than they are now, that conduct
would be eminently virtuous among them which now is not virtuous at
all. That such a definition of virtue is likely to lead to very imperfect
practice is plain ; for what is the probability that a man will attain to
that standard which God proposes, if his utmost estimate of virtue rises
no higher than to an indeterminate superiority over other men ?
Our definition of virtue necessarily accords with the principles of
morality which have been advanced in the preceding chapter : Virtue is
conformity with the standard of rectitude ; which standard consists pri
marily in the expressed will of God.
Virtue, as it respects the meritoriousness of the agent, is another con
sideration. The quality of an action is one thing, the desert of the
agent is another. The business of him who illustrates moral rules, is
not with the agent, but with the act. He must state what the moral law
pronounces to be right and wrong : but it is very possible that an individ
ual may do what is right without any virtue, because there may be no rec
titude in his motives and intentions. He does a virtuous act, but he is
not a virtuous agent.
Although the concern of a work like the present is evidently with the
moral character of actions without reference to the motives of the agent,
yet the remark may be allowed, that there is frequently a sort of inac
curacy and unreasonableness in the judgments which we form of the de
serts of other men. We regard the act too much, and the intention too
little. The footpad who discharges a pistol at a traveller and fails in
his aim, is just as wicked as if he had killed him ; yet we do not feel
the same degree of indignation at his crime. So, too, of a person who
does good. A man who plunges into a river to save a child from drown
ing, impresses the parents with a stronger sense of his deserts than if,
with the same exertions, he had failed. — We should endeavour to cor
rect this inequality of judgment, and in forming our estimates of human
conduct, should refer, much more than we commonly do, to what the
agent intends. It should habitually be borne in mind, and especially with
reference to our own conduct, that to have been unable to execute an ill
intention deducts nothing from our guilt; and that at that tribunal where
intention and action will be both regarded, it will avail little if we can onlv
say that we have done no evil. Nor let it be less remembered, with re
spect to those who desire to do good, but have not the power, that their
virtue is not diminished by their want of ability. I ought perhaps to be
as grateful to the man who feelingly commiserates my sufferings but
cannot relieve them, as to him who sends me money or a physician.
The mite of the widow of old was estimated even more highly than the
greater offerings of the rich.
* Theo. Mor. Sent.
CHIP. 5.] IMPERFECT COINCIDENCE. 13
CHAPTER V.
SCRIPTURE.
THE MORALITY OF THE PATRIARCHAL, MOSAIC, AND CHRISTIAN
DISPENSATIONS.
ONE of the very interesting considerations which are presented to an
inquirer in perusing the volume of Scripture, consists in the variations in
its morality. There are three distinctly defined periods, in which the
moral government and laws of the Deity assume, in some respects, a dif
ferent character. In the first, without any system of external instruction,
he communicated his will to some of our race, either immediately or
through a superhuman messenger. In the second, he promulgated through
Moses a distinct and extended code of laws, addressed peculiarly to a
selected people. In the third, Jesus Christ and his commissioned minis
ters delivered precepts, of which the general character was that of
greater purity or perfection, and of which the obligation was universal
upon mankind
That the records of all these dispensations contain declarations of the
will of God is certain ; that their moral requisitions are not always coinci
dent is also certain ; and hence the conclusion becomes inevitable, that
to us one is of primary authority : — that when all do not coincide, one is
paramount to the others. That a coincidence does not always exist
may easily be shown. It is manifest, not only by a comparison of pre
cepts and of the general tenor of the respective records, but from the
express declarations of Christianity itself.
One example, referring to the Christian and Jewish dispensations, may
be found in the extension of the law of love. Christianity, in extending
the application of the law, requires us to abstain from that which the
law of Moses permitted us to do. Thus it is in the instance of duties to
our " neighbour," as they are illustrated in the parable of the Samaritan.*
Thus, too, in the sermon on the mount : " It hath been said by them of
old time, Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine enemy : but / say
uuto you, love your enemies."f It is indeed sometimes urged that the
words " hate thine enemy" were only a gloss of the expounders of the
law : but Grotius writes thus ; " what is there repeated as said to those
of old are not the words of the teachers of the law, but of Moses ;
either literally or in their meaning. They are cited by our Saviour as
his express words, not as interpretations of them/'J If the authority of
Grotius should not satisfy the reader, let him consider such passages as
this : "An Ammonite or a Moabite shall not enter into the congregation of
the Lord. Because they met you not with bread and with water in the
way, when ye came forth out of Egypt, Thou shalt not seek their peace nor
their prosperity all thy days for ever."§ This is not coincident with
"Love your enemies ;" or with *' Do good to them that hate you;" at
* Luke x. 30. f Mat. v. 43. t Rights of war and peace. $ Deut. ixiii. 3, 4, 6.
44 SUPREMACY OF THE [ESSAT I.
with that temper which is recommended by the words, " to him that
smiteth thee on one cheek, turn the other also.'*
" Pour out thy fury upon the heathen that know thee not, and upon the
families that call not on thy name,"! — is not coincident with the reproof
of Christ to those who, upon similar grounds, would have called down
fire from heaven. J " The Lord look upon it and require it,"§ — is not
coincident with, " Lord, lay not this sin to their charge."i| " Let me see
thy vengeance on them,"H — " Bring upon them the day of evil, and de
stroy them with double destruction,"** — is not coincident with, "Forgive
them, for they know not what they do."tt
Similar observations apply to swearing, to polygamy, to retaliation, to
the motives of murder and adultery.
And as to the express assertion of the want of coincidence : — " The
law made nothing perfect, but the bringing in of a letter hope did."j|
" There is verily a disannulling of the commandment going before, for
the weakness and unprofitableness thereof."§§ If the commandment now
existing is not weak and unprofitable, it must be because it is superior to
that which existed before.
But although this appears to be thus clear with respect to the Jewish
dispensation, there are some who regard the moral precepts which were
delivered before the period of that dispensation, as imposing permanent
obligations ; they were delivered, it is said, not to one peculiar people,
but to individuals of many; and, in the persons of the immediate sur
vivors of the deluge, to the whole human race. This argument assumes
a ground paramount to all questions of subsequent abrogation. Now it
would appear a sufficient answer to say, — If the precepts of the patri
archal and Christian dispensations are coincident, no question needs to
be discussed ; if they are not, we must make an election ; and surely
the Christian cannot doubt what election he should make. Could a
Jew have justified himself for violating the Mosaic law, by urging the
precepts delivered to the patriarchs ? No. Neither then can we justify
ourselves for violating the Christian law, by urging the precepts delivered
to Moses.
We, indeed, have, if it be possible, still stronger motives. The moral
law of Christianity binds us, not merely because it is the present expres
sion of the will of God, but because it is a portion of his last dispensa
tion to man, — of that which is avowedly not only the last, but the highest
and the best. We do not find in the records of Christianity that which
we find in the other Scriptures, a reference to a greater and purer dispen
sation yet to come. It is as true of the patriarchal as of the Mosaic in
stitution, that "it made nothing perfect," and that it referred us, from the
first, to "the bringing in of that better hope which did." If then the
question of supremacy is between a perfect and an imperfect system, who
will hesitate in his decision?
There are motives of gratitude, too, and of affection, as well as of
reason. The clearer exhibition which Christianity gives of the attributes
of God ; its distinct disclosure of our immortal destinies ; and above all,
its wonderful discovery of the love of our Universal Father, may well
give to the moral law with which they are connected, an authority which
may supersede every other.
These considerations are of practical importance ; for it may be ob-
* Mat. v. 39. f Jer. x. 25. J Luke ix. 54. $ 2 Chron. xxiv. 22. |! Acts vii. 60.
^ Jer. xx. 12 ** Jer. xvii. 18. ft Luke xxiii. 3i. }J Heb. vii. 19. $$Heb. vii. 18.
CHAP. 5.] CHRISTIAN MORALITY. 45
served of those who do not advert to them, that they sometimes refer in
discriminately to the Old Testament or the New, without any other guide
than the apparent greater applicability of a precept in the one or the other,
to their present need : and thus it happens that a rule is sometimes acted
upon, less perfect than that by which it is the good pleasure of God we
should now regulate our conduct. — It is a fact which the reader should
especially notice, that an appeal to the Hebrew Scriptures is frequently
made when the precepts of Christianity would be too rigid for our pur
pose. He who .insists upon a pure morality, applies to the New Testa
ment : he who desires a little more indulgence, defends himself by argu
ments from the Old.
Of this indiscriminate reference to all the dispensations there is an
extraordinary example in the newly discovered work of Milton. He
appeals, I believe, almost uniformly to the precepts of all, as of equal
present obligation. The consequence is what might be expected — his
moral system is not consistent. Nor is it to be forgotten, that in defend
ing what may be regarded as less pure doctrines, he refers mostly, or
exclusively, to the Hebrew Scriptures. In all his disquisitions to prove
the lawfulness of untruths, he does not once refer to the New Testament.*
Those who have observed the prodigious multiplicity of texts which he
cites in this work, will peculiarly appreciate the importance of the fact.
— Again : " Hatred," he says, " is in some cases a religious duty."f A
proposition at which the Christian may reasonably wonder. And how
does Milton prove its truth ? He cites from Scripture ten passages, of
which eight are from the Old Testament and two from the New. The
reader will be curious to know what these two are : — " If any man come
to me and hate not his father and mother — he cannot be my disciple."|
And the rebuke to Peter ; " Get thee behind me, Satan."§ The citation of
such passages shows that no passages to the purpose could be found.
It may be regarded, therefore, as a general rule, that none of the in
junctions or permissions which formed a part of the former dispensa
tions, can be referred to as of authority to us, except so far as they are co
incident with the Christian law. To our own master we stand or fall ;
and our master is Christ. — And in estimating this coincidence, it is not
requisite to show that a given rule or permission of the former dispen
sations is specifically superseded in the New Testament. It is sufficient
if it is not accordant with the general spirit ; and this consideration as
sumes greater weight when it is connected with another which is here
after to be noticed, — that it is by the general spirit of the Christian mor
ality that many of the duties of man are to be discovered.
Yet it is always to be remembered, that the laws which are thus su
perseded were, nevertheless, the laws of God. Let not the reader sup
pose that we would speak or feel respecting them otherwise than with
that reverence which their origin demands, — or that we would take any
thing from their present obligation but that which is taken by the law
giver himself. It may indeed be observed, that in all his dispensations
there is a harmony, a one pervading principle, which, without other evi
dence, indicates that they proceeded from the same authority. The va
riations are circumstantial rather than fundamental ; and after all, the
great principles in which they accord far outweigh the particular appli
cations in which they differ. The Mosaic dispensation was " a school*
* Christian Doctrine, p. 660. f P. 041. t Luke xiv. 26. $ Mark viii. 33.
46 NOTICES OF THEORIES. [Essxr I.
master" to bring us, not merely through the medium of types and pro
phecies, but through its moral law, to Christ. Both the one and the other
were designed as preparatives : and it was probably as true of these
moral laws as of the prophecies, that the Jews did not perceive their re
lationship to Christianity as it was actually introduced into the world.
Respecting the variations of the moral law, some persons greatly and
very needlessly perplex themselves by indulging in such questions as
these : — *« If," say they, " God be perfect, and if all the dispensations
are communications of his will, how happens it that they are not uniform
in their requisitions ? How happens it that that which was required by
Infinite knowledge at one time, was not required by Infinite knowledge
at another ?" I answer, — I cannot tell. And what then ? Does the in
quirer think this a sufficient reason for rejecting the authority of the
Christian law ? If inability to discover the reasons of the moral gov
ernment of God be a good motive to doubt its authority, we may involve
ourselves in doubts without end. — Why does a Being who is infinitely
pure permit moral evil in the world? Why does he who is "perfectly
benevolent permit physical suffering? Why did he suffer our first pa
rents to fall? Why, after they had fallen, did he not immediately repair
the loss ? Why was the Messiah's appearance deferred for four thousand
years ? Why is not the religion of the Messiah universally known and
universally operative at the present day ? To all these questions, and to
many others, no answer can be given : and the difficulty arising from
them is as great, if we choose to make difficulties for ourselves, as that
which arises from variations in his moral laws. Even in infidelity we
shall find no rest : the objections lead us onward to atheism. He who
will not believe in a Deity unless he can reconcile all the facts before
his eyes with his notions of the divine attributes, must deny that a Deity
exists. I talked of rest : — Alas ! there is no rest in infidelity or in athe
ism. To disbelieve in revelation or in God, is not to escape from a be
lief in things which you do not comprehend, but to transfer your belief
to a new class of such things. Unbelief is credulity. The infidel is more
credulous than the Christian, and the atheist is the most credulous of
mankind : that is, he believes important propositions upon less evidence
than any other man, and in opposition to greater.
It is curious to observe the anxiety of some writers to reconcile some
of the facts before us with the " moral perfections" of the Deity ; and it
is instructive to observe into what doctrines they are led. They tell us
that all the evil and all the pain in the world, are parts of a great system
of benevolence. " The moral and physical evil observable in the sys
tem, according to men's limited views of it, are necessary parts of the
great plan ; all tending ultimately to produce the greatest sum of happi
ness upon the whole, not only with respect to the system in general, but
to eacli individual, according to the station he occupies in it."* They
affirm that God is an " allwise Being, who directs all the movements of
nature, and who is determined, by his own unalterable perfections, to main
tain in it at all times the greatest possible quantity of happiness."! The
* This is given as the belief of Dr. Priestley. See memoirs, Ap. No. 5.
t Adam Smith: Theory of Moral Sentiments. See alsoT. Southwood Smith's Illus
trations of the Divine government, in which unbridled license of speculation has led the
writer into some instructive absurdities.
CHAP, 5.] NO FORMAL SYSTEM IN SCRIPTURE. 47
Creator found, therefore, that to inflict the misery which now exists, was
the best means of promoting this happiness — that to have abated the
evil, the suffering, or the misery, would be to have diminished the sum
of felicity — and that men could not have been better or more at ease than
they are, without making them on the whole more vicious or unhappy !
— These things are beacons which should warn us. The speculations
show that not only religion, but reason, dictates the propriety of acquiescing
in that degree of ignorance in which it has pleased God to leave us ; be
cause they show, that attempts to acquire knowledge may conduct us to
folly. These are subjects upon which he acts most rationally, who says
to his reason — be still.
MODE OF APPLYING THE PRECEPTS OF SCRIPTURE TO QUESTIONS
OF DUTY.
It is remarkable that many of these precepts, and especially those of
the Christian Scriptures, are delivered not systematically, but occasionally.
They are distributed through occasional discourses and occasional let
ters. Except in the instance of the law of Moses, the speaker or
writer rarely set about a formal exposition of moral truth. The precepts
•were delivered as circumstances called them forth or made them need
ful. There is nothing like a system of morality ; nor, consequently,
does there exist that completeness, that distinctness in defining and ac
curacy in limiting, which, in a system of morality, we expect to find.
Many rules are advanced in short absolute prohibitions or injunctions,
without assigning any of those exceptions to their practical application
which the majority of such rules require. — The inquiry, in passing, may
be permitted — Why are these things so? When it is considered what
the Christian dispensation is, and what it is designed to effect upon the
conduct of man, it cannot be supposed that the incompleteness of its
moral precepts happened by inadvertence. The precepts of the former
dispensation are much more precise ; and it is scarcely to be supposed
that the more perfect dispensation would have had a less precise law,
unless the deficiency were to be compensated from some other authori
tative source : — which remark is offered as a reason, a priori^ for expect
ing that, in the present dispensation, God would extend the operation of
his law written in the heart.
But whatever may be thought of this, it is manifest that considerable
care is requisite in the application of precepts, so delivered, to the conduct
of life. To apply them in all cases literally, were to act neither reason
ably nor consistently with the design of the lawgiver : to regard them in
all cases as mere general directions, and to subject them to the unau
thorised revision of man, were to deprive them of their proper charac
ter and authority as divine laws. In proposing some grounds for esti
mating the practical obligation of these precepts, I would be first allowed
to express the conviction, that the simple fact that such a disquisition is
needed, and that the moral duties are to be gathered rather by implica
tion or general tenor than from specific and formal rules, is one indica
tion among the many, that the dispensation of which these precepts form
a part, stands not in words but in power : and I hop.e to be forgiven.
43 CRITICISM OF BIBLICAL MORALITY. [Essxv t.
even in a book of morality, if I express the conviction that none can
fulfil their requisitions, — that none indeed can appreciate them, — without
some participation in this " power." 1 say he cannot appreciate them.
Neither the morals nor the religion of Christianity can be adequately
estimated by the man who sits down to the New Testament, with no
other preparation than that which is necessary in sitting down to Euclid
or Newton. There must be some preparation of heart as well as integ
rity of understanding, — or, as the appropriate language of the volume
itself would express it, it is necessary that we should become, in some
degree, the " sheep" of Christ before we can accurately " know his
voice."
There is one clear and distinct ground upon which we may limit the
application of a precept that is couched in absolute language — the un
lawfulness, in any .given conjuncture, of obeying it. " Submit yourselves
to every ordinance of man."* This, literally, is an unconditional com
mand. But if we were to obey it unconditionally, we should sometimes
comply with human, in opposition to divine laws. In such cases, then,
the obligation is clearly suspended ; and this distinction the first teachers
of Christianity recognised in their own practice. When an " ordinance
of man" required them to forbear the promulgation of the new religion,
they refused obedience ; and urged the befitting expostulation, —
"Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than
unto God, judge ye."f So with the filial relationship : " Children, obey
your parents in all things."! But a parent may require his child to lie
or steal ; and therefore when a parent requires obedience in such things,
his authority ceases, and the obligation to obedience is taken away by the
moral law itself. The precept, so far as the present ground of exception
applies, is virtually this : Obey your parents in all things, unless disobe
dience is required by the will of God. Or the subject might be illus
trated thus : The Author of Christianity reprobates those who love
father or mother more than himself. The paramount love to God is to
be manifested by obedience. § So then we are to obey the commands of
God in preference to those of our parents. " All human authority
ceases at the point where obedience becomes criminal."||
Of some precepts, it is evident that they were designed to be under
stood conditionally. "When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and
when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret."]T
This precept is conditional. I doubt not that it is consistent with his
will, that the greater number of the supplications which man offers at his
throne shall be offered in secret ; yet, that the precept does not exclude
the exercise of public prayer is evident from this consideration, if from
no other, that Christ and his apostles themselves practised it.
Some precepts are figurative, and describe the spirit and temper that
should govern us, rather than the particular actions that we should perform.
Of this there is an example in " Whomsoever shall compel thee to go a
mile, go with him twain."** In promulgating some precepts, a principal
object appears to have been to supply sanctions. Thus in the case
of civil obedience : we are to obey because the Deity authorizes the in
stitution of civil government, — because the magistrate is the minister
of God for good ; and accordingly, we are to obey, not from considerations
* 1 Pet. ii. 13. f Acts iv. 19
mandments. John xiv. 15.
9. t Col. iii. 20. 6 If ye love me ye wiD keep my com-
H Mor. and Pol. Phil. T Matt. vi. 6. ** Matt. v. 41
CHAP. 5.J CRITICISM OF BIBLICAL MORALITY. 49
of necessity only, but of duty : " not only for wrath, but for conscience
sake."* One precept, if we accepted it literally, would enjoin us to
" hate" our parents : and this acceptation Milton appears actually to
have adopted. One would enjoin us to accumulate no property ; " Lay
riot up for yourselves treasures upon earth. "f Such rules are seldom mis
taken in practice ; and it may be observed that this is an indication of
their practical wisdom, and their practical adaptation to the needs of man.
It is not an easy thing to pronounce, as occasions arise, a large number of
moral precepts in unconditional language, and yet to secure them from the
probability of even great misconstructions. Let the reader make the ex
periment. — Occasionally, but it is only occasionally, a sincere Christian, in
his anxiety to conform to the moral law, accepts such precepts in a more
literal sense than that in which they appear to have been designed to be
applied. I once saw a book that endeavoured to prove the unlawfulness
of accumulating any property ; upon the authority, primarily, of this last
of quoted precept. The principle upon which the writer proceeded was
just and right, — that it is necessary to conform, unconditionally, to the
expressed will of God. The defect was in the criticism ; that is to say,
in ascertaining what that will did actually require.
Another obviously legitimate ground of limiting the application of ab
solute precepts, is afforded us in just biblical criticism. Not that criti
cal disquisitions are often necessary to the upright man who seeks for
the knowledge of his duties. God has not left the knowledge of his
moral law so remote from the sincere seekers of his will. But in dedu
cing public rules as authoritative upon mankind, it is needful to take into
account those considerations which criticism supplies. The construc
tions of the original languages and their peculiar phraseology, the habits,
manners, and prevailing opinions of the times, and the circumstances
under which a precept was delivered, are evidently among these con
siderations. And literary criticism is so much the more needed, because
the great majority of mankind have access to Scripture only through the
medium of translations.
But in applying all these limitations to the absolute precepts of Scrip
ture, it is to be remembered that we are not subjecting their authority to
inferior principles. We are not violating the principle upon which these
essays proceed, that the expression of the Divine will is our ultimate
law. We are only ascertaining what that expression is. If, after just
and authorized examination, any precept should still appear to stand
imperative in its absolute form, we accept it as obligatory in that form.
Many such precepts there are ; and being such, we allow no considera
tions of convenience, nor of expediency, nor considerations of any
other kind, to dispense with their authority.
One great use of such inquiries as these is to vindicate to the apprehen
sions of men the authority of the precepts themselves. It is very likely
to happen, and to some negligent inquirers it does happen, that seeing a
precept couched in unconditional language, which yet cannot be uncon
ditionally obeyed, they call in question its general obligation. Their
minds fix upon the idea of some consequences which would result from
a literal obedience, and feeling assured that those consequences ought
not to be undertaken, they set aside the precept itself. They are at
little pains to inquire what the proper requisitions of the precept are,—
* Rom. xiii. 5. t Matt. vi. 19.
D
60 SPIRIT OF THE MORAL LAW. [EesAY I.
glad, perhaps, of a specious excuse for not regarding it at all. The care
less reader, perceiving that a literal compliance with the precept to give
the cloak to him who takes a coat, would be neither proper nor right, re
jects the whole precept of which it forms an illustration ; and in doing
(his, rejects one of the most beautiful, and important, and sacred requisi
tions of the Christian law.*
There are two modes in which moral obligations are imposed in
Scripture, — by particular precepts and by general rules. The one pre
scribes a duty upon one subject, the other upon very many. The appli
cability of general rules is nearly similar to that of what is usually called
the spirit of the gospel, the spirit of the moral law: which spirit is of
v«ry wide embrace in its application to the purposes of life. " In esti
mating the value of a moral rule, we are to have regard not only to the
particular duty, but the general spirit ; not only to what it directs us to
do, but to the character which a compliance with its direction is likely
to form in us."f In this manner some particular precepts become, in
fact, general rules ; and the duty that results from these rules, from this
spirit, is as obligatory as that which is imposed by a specific injunction.
Christianity requires us to maintain universal benevolence towards man
kind; and he who, in his conduct towards another, disregards this benevo
lence, is as truly and sometimes as flagrantly a violator of the moral
law, as if he had transgressed the command, " Thou shalt not steal."
This doctrine is indeed recommended by a degree of utility that makes
its adoption almost a necessity ; because no number of specific precepts
would be sufficient for the purposes of moral instruction : so that if we
were destitute of this species of general rules, we should frequently be
destitute, so far as external precepts are concerned, of any. It appears
by a note to the work which has just been cited, that in the Mussulman
code, which proceeds upon the system of a precise rule for a precise
question, there have been promulgated seventy-five thousand precepts. I
regard the wide practical applicability of some of the Christian precepts
as an argument of great wisdom. They impose many duties in few
words ; or rather they convey a great mass of moral instruction within a
sentence that all may remember and that few can mistake. " All things
whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them,"!
is of greater utility in the practice of life, and is applicable to more circum
stances than a hundred rules which presented the exact degree of kind
ness or assistance that should be afforded in prescribed cases. The
Mosaic law, rightly regarded, conveyed many clear expositions of human
duty ; yet the quibbling and captious scribes of old found, in the literalities
of that law, more plausible grounds for evading its duties, than can be
found in the precepts of the Christian Scriptures.
There are few precepts of which the application is so extensive in
human affairs, that I would, in conformity with some of the preceding
* Matt. v. 38. f Evidences of Christianity, p. 2, c. 2. f Matt. vii. 12.
CHAP. 5.] SPIRIT OF THE MORAL LAW. 51
remarks, briefly inquire into their practical obligation. Of these, that
which has just been quoted for another purpose, " All things whatsoever
ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them,"* is perhaps
cited and recommended more frequently than any other. The difficulty
of applying this precept has induced some to reject it as containing a
maxim which is not sound : but perhaps it will be found, that the
deficiency is not in the rule but in the non-applicability of the cases to
which it has often been applied. It is not applicable when the act which
another would that we should do to him is in itself unlawful, or adverse to
some other portion of the moral law. If I seize a thief in the act of
picking a pocket, he undoubtedly " would" that I should let him go ; and
I, if our situations were exchanged, should wish it too. But I am not
therefore to release him ; because, since it is a Christian obligation upon
the magistrate to punish offenders, the obligation descends to me to secure
them for punishment. Besides, in every such case I must do as I would
be done unto with respect to all parties concerned, — the public as well
as the thief. The precept, again, is not applicable when the desire of
the second party is such as a Christian cannot lawfully induge. An idle
and profligate man asks me to give him money. It would be wrong to
indulge such a man's desire, and therefore the precept does not apply.
The reader will perhaps say, that a person's duties in such cases are
sufficiently obvious without the gravity of illustration. Well, — but are
the principles upon which the duties are ascertained thus obvious ? This
is the important point. In the affairs of life, many cases arise in which
a person has to refer to such principles as these, and in which, if he does
not apply the right principles, he will transgress the Christian law. The
law appears to be in effect this, Do as you would be done unto, except
in those instances in which to act otherwise is permitted by Christianity.
Inferior grounds of limitation are often applied ; and they are always
wrong, because they always subject the moral law to suspension by
inferior authorities. To do this, is to reject the authority of the Divine
will, and to place this beautiful expression of that will at the mercy of
every man's inclination.
" Whether ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory
of God."f I have heard of the members of some dinner club who had
been recommended to consider this precept, and \vho in their discussions
over the bottle, thought perhaps that they were arguing soundly when
they held language like this : " Am I, in lifting this glass to my mouth,
to do it for the purpose of bringing glory to God ? Is that to be my
motive in buying a horse or shooting a pheasant ?" From such moralists
much sagacity of discrimination was not to be expected ; and these
questions delighted and probably convinced the club. The mistake of
these persons, and perhaps of some others, is that they misunderstand
the rule. The promotion of the Divine glory is not to be the motive and
purpose of all our actions, but, having actions to perform, we are so to
perform them that this glory shall be advanced. The precept is, in effect,
Let your actions and the motives of them be such, that others shall have
reason to honour God :\ — and a precept like this is a very sensitive test
of the purity of our conduct. I know not whether there is a single rule
* Matt. vii. 12. 1 1 Cor. x. 31.
t " Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works', and glorify
your Father which is in Heaven." — Matt. v. 16.
02
52 SPIRIT OF THE MORAL LAW. [ESSAY I.
of Christianity of which the use is so constant and the application so
universal. To do as we would be done by, refers to relative duties; Not
to do evil that good may come, refers to particular circumstances : but,
To do all things so that the Deity may be honoured, refers to almost
every action of a man's, life. Happily the Divine glory is thus promoted
by some men even in trifling affairs — almost whether they eat or drink,
or whatsoever thing they do. There is, in truth, scarcely a more effica
cious means of honouring the Deity, than the observing a constant
Christian manner of conducting our intercourse with men. He who
habitually maintains his allegiance to religion and to purity, who is
moderate and chastised in all his pursuits, and who always makes the
prospects of the future predominate over the temptations of the present, is
one of the most efficacious recommenders of goodness, — one of the most
impressive " preachers of righteousness," — and by consequence, one of
the most efficient promoters of the glory of God.
By a part of Paul's Epistle to the Romans, it appears that he and his
coadjutors had been reported to hold the doctrine, that it is lawful " to do
evil that good may come."* This report he declares is slanderous ; and
expresses his reprobation of those who act upon the doctrine, by the
short and emphatic declaration, — their condemnation is just. This is not
critically a prohibition, but it is a prohibition in effect ; and the manner
in which the doctrine is reprobated, induces the belief that it was so fla
gitious that it needed very little inquiry or thought : in the writer's mind
the transition is immediate, from the idea of the doctrine to the p'unish-
ment of those who adopt it.
Now the '• evil" which is thus prohibited, is, any thing and all things,
discordant with the Divine will ; so that the unsophisticated meaning of
the rule is, that nothing which is eontrary to the Christian law may be
done for the sake of attaining a beneficial end. Perhaps the breach of
no moral rule is productive of more mischief than of this. That " the
end justifies the means," is a maxim which many, who condemn it as a
maxim, adopt in their practice ; and in political affairs it is not only ha
bitually adopted, but is indirectly, if not openly, defended as right. If a
senator were to object to some measure of apparent public expediency,
that it was not consistent with the moral law, he would probably be
laughed at as a fanatic or a fool : yet perhaps some who are flippant with
this charge of fanaticism and folly maybe in perplexity for a proof. If the
expressed will of God is our paramount law, no proof can be brought ;
and in truth it is not often that it is candidly attempted. I have not been
among the least diligent inquirers into the moral reasonings of men, but
honest and manly reasoning against this portion of Scripture I have never
found.
Of the rule, " not to do evil that good may come," Dr. Paley says,
that it " is, for the most part, a salutary caution." A person might as
well say that the rule " not to commit murder" is a salutary caution.
There is no caution in the matter, but an imperative law. But he pro
ceeds : — " Strictly speaking, that cannot be evil from which good
comes."t Now let the reader consider : — Paul says, You may not do evil
that good may come : Ay, but, says the philosopher, if good does come,
the acts that bring it about are NOT evil. What the apostle would have
said of such a reasoner, I will not trust my pen to suppose. The reader
* Rom. iii. 6. t Mor. and Pol. Phil., b. 2, c. 8.
CHAP. 5.] BENEVOLENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. 53
will perceive the foundation of this reasoning. It assumes that good
and evil are not to be estimated by the expressions of the will of God,
but by the effects of actions. The question is clearly fundamental. If
expediency be the ultimate test of rectitude, Dr. Paley is right ; if the
expressions of the Divine will are the ultimate test, he is wrong. You
must sacrifice the one authority or the other. If this will is the greater,
consequences are not : if consequences are the greater, this will is not.
But this question is not now to be discussed : -it may however be ob
served, that the interpretation which the rule has been thus made to bear,
appears to be contradicted by the terms of the rule itself. The rule of
Christianity is, evil may not be committed for the purpose of good : the
rule of philosophy is, evil may not be committed except for the purpose
of good. Are these precepts identical ? Is there not a fundamental va
riance, an absolute contrariety between them ? Christianity does not
speak of evil and good as contingent, but as fixed qualities. You can
not convert the one into the other by disquisitions about expediency. In
morals, there is no philosopher's stone that can convert evil into good
with a touch. Our labours, so long as the authority of the moral law is
acknowledged, will end like those of the physical alchymist : after all
our efforts at transmutation, lead will not become gold, — evil will not be
come good. However, there is one subject of satisfaction in consider
ing such reasonings as these. They prove, negatively, the truth which
they assail ; for that against which nothing but sophistry can be urged,
is undoubtedly true. The simple truth is, that if evil may be done foi
the sake of good, all the precepts of Scripture which define or prohibit
evil are laws no longer ; for that cannot in any rational use of language
be called a law in respect of those to whom it is directed, if they are at
liberty to neglect it when they think fit. These precepts may be advices,
recommendations, " salutary cautions," but they are not laws. They
may suggest hints, but they do not impose duties.
With respect to the legitimate grounds of exception or limitation in
the application of this rule, there appear to be few or none. The only
question is, What actions are evil ? Which question is to be determined,
ultimately, by the will of God
BENEVOLENCE, AS IT IS PROPOSED IN THE CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES.
In inquiring into the great principles of that moral system which the
Christian revelation institutes, we discover one remarkable characteristic,
one pervading peculiarity, by which it is distinguished from every other, —
the paramount emphasis which it lays upon the exercise of pure benevo
lence. It will be found that this preference of " love" is wise as it
is unexampled, and that no other general principle would effect, with any
approach to the same completeness, the best and highest purposes of
morality. How easy soever it be for us, to whom the character and
obligations of this benevolence are comparatively familiar, to perceive
the wisdom of placing it at the foundation of the moral law, we are
indebted for the capacity, not to our own sagaciousness, but to light
which has been communicated from Heaven. That schoolmaster the
law of Moses never taught, and the speculations of philosophy never
64 BENEVOLENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. [ESSAY I.
discovered, that love was the fulfilment of the moral law. Eighteen
hundred years ago this doctrine was a new commandment.
Love is made the test of the validity of our claims to the Christian
character — "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples."*
Again, — " Love one another, He that loveth another hath fulfilled the
law. For this, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not kill,
Thou shalt not bear false witness, Thou shalt not covet; and if there be
any other commandment-, it is briefly comprehended in this saying,
namely, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. Love worketh no ill to
his neighbour : therefore love is the fulfilling of the la\v."f It is not there
fore surprising, that after an enumeration in another place of various
duties, the same dignified apostle says, "Above all these things put on
charity, which is the bond of perfectness.n\ The inculcation of this
benevolence is as frequent in the Christian Scriptures as its practical
utility is great. He who will look through the volume will find that no
topic isjso frequently introduced, no obligation so emphatically enforced,
no virtue to which the approbation of God is so specially promised. It
is the theme of all the "apostolic exhortations, that with which their
morality begins and ends, from which all their details and enumerations
set out, and into which they return."^ " He that dwelleth in love, dwell-
eth in God, and God in him."j| More emphatical language cannot be
employed. It exalts to the utmost the character of the virtue, and in
effect, promises its possessor the utmost favour and felicity. If then, of
faith, hope, and love, love be the greatest, — if it be by the test of love
that our pretensions to Christianity are to be tried, — if all the relative
duties of morality are embraced in one word, and that word is love, — it
is obviously needful that, in a book like this, the requisitions of benevo
lence should be habitually regarded in the prosecution of its inquiries.
And accordingly the reader will sometimes be invited to sacrifice inferior
considerations to these requisitions, and to give to the law of love that
paramount station in which it has been placed by the authority of God.
It is certain that almost every offence against the relative duties has
its origin, if not in the malevolent propensities, at least in those propen
sities which are incongruous with love. I know not whether it is possible
to disregard anyone obligation that respects the intercourse of 'man with
man, without violating this great Christian law. This universal applica
bility may easily be illustrated by referring to the obligations of justice,
obligations which, in civilized communities, are called into operation more
frequently than almost any other. He who estimates the obligations of
justice by a reference to that benevolence which Christianity prescribes,
will form to himself a much more pure and perfect standard than he who
refers to the law of the land, to the apprehension of exposure, or to the
desire of reputation. There are many ways in which a man can be
unjust without censure from the public, and without violating the laws ;
but there is no way in which he can be unjust without disregarding
Christian benevolence. It is a universal and very sensitive test. He
who does regard it, who uniformly considers whether his conduct towards
another is consonant with pure good will, cannot be voluntarily unjust ;
nor can he who commits injustice do it without the consciousness, if
he will reflect, that he is violating the law of love. That integrity
* John xiii. 35. + Rom. xiii. 9. J Col. iii. 14.
$ Evid. Christianity, p. 2, c. 2. !1 1 John iv. 16.
CHAP. 6.] COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD. 55
which is founded upon love, when compared with that which has any
other basis, is recommended by its honour and dignity, as well as by its
rectitude. It is more worthy the man as well as the Christian, more
beautiful in the eye of infidelity as well as of religion.
It were easy, if it were necessary, to show in what manner the law of
benevolence applies to other relative duties, and in what manner, when
applied, it purifies and exalts the fulfilment of them. But our present
business is with principles rather than with their specific application.
It is obvious that the obligations of this benevolence are not merely
prohibitory — directing us to avoid " working ill" to another, — but manda
tory — requiring us to do him good. That benevolence which is mani
fested only by doing no evil, is indeed of a very questionable kind. To
abstain from injustice, to abstain from violence, to abstain from slander,
is compatible with an extreme deficiency of love. There are many who
are neither slanderous, nor ferocious, nor unjust, who have yet very little
regard for the benevolence of the gospel. In the illustrations therefore
of the obligations of morality, whether private or political, it will some
times become our business to state, what this benevolence requires, as
well as what it forbids. The legislator whose laws are contrived only
for the detection and punishment of offenders, fulfils but half his duty ;
if he would conform to the Christian standard, he must provide also for
their reformation.
; CHAPTER VI.
THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD.
The reader is solicited to approach this subject with that mental seri
ousness which its nature requires. Whatever be his opinions upon the
subject, whether he believes in the reality of such communication or not,
he ought not even to think respecting it but with feelings of seriousness.
In endeavouring to investigate this reality, it becomes especially
needful to distinguish the communication of the will of God from those
mental phenomena with which it has very commonly been intermingled
and confounded. The want of this distinction has occasioned a confu
sion which has been greatly injurious to the cause of truth. It has occa
sioned great obscurity of opinion respecting divine instruction ; and by
associating error with truth, has frequently induced skepticism respect
ing the truth itself. When an intelligent person perceives that infallible
truth or divine authority is described as belonging to the dictates of "con
science," and when he perceives, as he must perceive, that these dictates
are various and sometimes contradictory ; he is in danger of concluding
that no unerring and no divine guidance is accorded to man.
Upon this serious subject it is therefore peculiarly necessary to
endeavour to attain distinct ideas, and to employ those words only which
convey distinct ideas to other men. The first section of the present
chapter will accordingly be devoted to some brief observations respecting
the conscience, its nature, and its authority ; by which it is hoped the
reader will see sufficient reason to distinguish its dictates from that
higher guidance, respecting which it is the object of the present chapter
to inquire.
56 CONSCIENCE. [ESSAY I.
For a kindred purpose, it appears requisite to offer a short review of
popular and philosophical opinions respecting a Moral Sense. These
opinions will be found to have been frequently expressed in great indis
tinctness and ambiguity of language. The purpose of the writer in
referring to these opinions, is to inquire whether they do not generally
involve a recognition — obscurely perhaps, but still a recognition — of the
principle, that God communicates his will to the mind. If they do this,
and if they do it without design or consciousness, no trifling testimony is
afforded to the truth of the principle : for how should this principle thus
secretly recommend itself to the minds of men, except by the influence
of its own evidence ?
SECTION I.
CONSCIENCE, ITS NATURE AND AUTHORITY.
IN the attempt to attach distinct notions to the term " conscience," we
have to request the reader not to estimate the accuracy of our observa
tions by the notions which he may have habitually connected with the
word. Ouj disquisition is not about terms, but truths. If the observa
tions are in themselves just, our principal object is attained. The second
ary object, that of connecting truth with appropriate terms, is only so far
attainable by a writer, as shall be attained by a uniform employment
of words in determinate senses in his own practice.
Men possess notions of right and wrong : they possess a belief that,
under given circumstances, they ought to do one thing or to forbear another.
This belief I would call a conscientious belief. And when such a belief
exists in a man's mind in reference to a number of actions, I would call
the sum or aggregate of his notions respecting what is right and wrong,
his conscience.
To possess notions of right and wrong in human conduct, — to be con
vinced that we ought to do or to forbear an action, — implies and supposes
a sense of obligation existent in the mind. A man who feels that it is
wrong for him to do a thing, possesses a sense of obligation to refrain.
Into the origin of this sense of obligation, or how it is induced into the
mind, we do not inquire ; it is sufficient for our purpose that it exists ;
and there is no reason to doubt that its existence is consequent of the
will of God.
In most men — perhaps in all — this sense of obligation refers, with
greater or less distinctness to the will of a superior being. The im
pression, however obscure, is in general fundamentally this : I must do
so or so, because God requires it.
It is found that this sense of obligation is sometimes connected, in the
minds of separate individuals, with different actions. One man thinks
he ought to do a thing from which another thinks he ought to forbear.
Upon the great questions of morality there is indeed in general a con-
gruity of human judgment ; yet subjects do arise respecting which one
man's conscience dictates an act, different from that which is dictated by
another's. It is not therefore essential to a conscientious judgment of
right and wrong, that that judgment should be in strict accordance with
the Moral Law. Some men's consciences dictate that which the moral
CHAP. 6.] NATURE OF THE CONSCIENCE. 57
law does not enjoin ; and this law enjoins some points which are not
enforced by every man's conscience. This is precisely the result which,
from the nature of the case, it is reasonable to expect. Of these
judgments respecting what is right, \vith which the sense of obligation be
comes from time to time connected, some are induced by the instructions
or example of others ; some by our own reflection or inquiry ; some
perhaps from the written law of revelation; and some, as we have
cause to conclude, from the direct intimations of the Divine will.
It is manifest that if the sense of obligation is sometimes connected
with subjects that are proposed to us merely by the instruction of others,
or if the connexion results from the power of association and habit, or
from the fallible investigations of our own minds — that sense of obli
gation will be connected, in different individuals, with different subjects.
So that it may sometimes happen that a man can say, I conscientiously
think I ought to do a certain action, and yet that his neighbour can say,
I conscientiously think the contrary. " With respect to particular ac
tions, opinion determines whether they are good or ill ; and conscience
approves or disapproves, in consequence of this determination, whether
it be in favour of truth or falsehood."*
Such considerations enable us to account for the diversity of the dic
tates of the conscience in individuals respectively. A person is brought
up among Catholics, and is taught from his childhood that flesh ought not
to be eaten in Lent. The arguments of those around him, or perhaps
their authority, satisfy him that what he is taught is truth. The sense of
obligation thus becomes connected with a refusal to eat flesh in Lent ;
and thenceforth he says that the abstinence is dictated by his conscience.
A Protestant youth is taught the contrary. Argument or authority satis
fies him that flesh may lawfully be eaten every day in the jiear. His
sense of obligation, therefore, is not connected with the abstinence ; and
thenceforth he says that eating flesh in Lent does not violate his con
science. And so of a multitude of other questions.
When therefore a person says, my conscience dictates to me that I
ought to perform such an action, he means — or in the use of such lan
guage he ought to mean — that the sense of obligation which subsists in
his mind is connected with that action ; that, so far as his judgment is
enlightened, it is a requisition of the law of God.
But not all our opinions respecting morality and religion are derived
from education or reasoning. He who finds in Scripture the precept,
" Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," derives an opinion respecting
the duty of loving others from the discovery of this expression of the
will of God. His sense of obligation is connected with benevolence
towards others, in consequence of this discovery ; — or, in other words,
his understanding has been informed by the moral law, and a new duty
is added to those which are dictated by his conscience. Thus it is that
Scripture, by informing the judgment, extends the jurisdiction of con
science ; and it is hence, in part, that in those who seriously study the
Scriptures, the conscience appears so much more vigilant and operative than
in many who do not possess, or do not regard them. Many of the mis
takes which education introduces, many of the fallacies to which our own
speculations lead us, are corrected by this law. In the case of our
Catholic, if a reference to Scripture should convince him that the judg-
* Adventurer, No. 91.
58 AUTHORITY OF THE CONSCIENCE. \.Esm 1.
ment he has formed respecting abstinence from flesh is not founded on
the law of God, the sense of obligation becomes detached from its sub
ject ; and thenceforth his conscience ceases to dictate that he should
abstain from flesh in Lent. — Yet Scripture does not decide every question
respecting human duty, and in some instances individuals judge differ
ently of the decisions which Scripture gives. This again occasions
some diversity in the dictates of the conscience ; it occasions the sense
of obligation to become connected with dissimilar, and possibly incom
patible actions.
But another portion of men's judgments respecting moral aflairs, is
derived from immediate intimations of the Divine will. (This we must
be allowed for the present to assume.) These intimations inform, some
times, the judgment ; correct its mistakes ; and increase and give dis
tinctness to our knowledge : — thus operating as the Scriptures operate to
connect the sense of obligation more accurately with those actions which
are conformable with the will of God. It does not however follow, by
any sort of necessity, that this higher instruction must correct all the
mistakes of the judgment ; that because it imparts some light, that light
must be perfect day ; that because it communicates some moral or re
ligious truth, it must communicate all the truths of religion and morality.
Nor, again, does it follow that individuals must each receive the same
access of knowledge. It is evidently as possible that it should be com
municated in different degrees to different individuals, as that it should be
communicated at all. For which plain reasons we are still to expect,
what in fact we find, that although the judgment receives light from a
superhuman intelligence, the degree of that light varies in individuals ;
and that the sense of obligation is connected with fewer subjects, and
attended with less accuracy, in the minds of some men than of others.
With respect to the authority which properly belongs to conscience as
a director of individual conduct, it appears manifest alike from reason
and from Scripture, that it is great. When a man believes, upon due
deliberation, that a certain action is right, that action is right to him.
And this is true, whether the action be or be not required of mankind by
the moral law.* The fact that in his mind the sense of obligation at
taches to the act, and that he has duly deliberated upon the accuracy of
his judgment, makes the dictate of his conscience upon that subject an
authoritative dictate. The individual is to be held guilty if he violates
his conscience, — if he does one thing, while his sense of obligation is
directed to its contrary. Nor, if his judgment should not be accurately
informed, if his sense of obligation should not be connected with a pro
per subject, is the guilt of violating his conscience taken away. Were
it otherwise, a person might be held virtuous for acting in opposition to
his apprehensions of duty ; or guilty, for doing what he believed to be
right. " It is happy for us that our title to the character of virtuous
beings depends not upon the justness of our opinions or the constant ob
jective rectitude of all we do, but upon the conformity of our actions to the
sincere conviction of our mind."| Dr. Furneaux says, To secure the
favour of God and the rewards of true religion, we must follow our own
consciences and judgments according to the best light we can attain. "J
And I am especially disposed to add the testimony of Sir William
" By conscience, all men are restrained from intentional ill : — it infallibly directs us to
*void guilt, but is not intended to secure us from error."— Advent. No. 91.
t Dr. Price. } Essay on Toleration, p. 8.
CHAP. 6.1 AUTHORITY OF THE CONSCIENCE. 59
Temple, because he recognises the doctrine which has just been advanced,
that our judgments are enlightened by superhuman agency. '* The way
to our future happiness must be left, at last, to the impressions made upon
every man's belief and conscience, either by natural or supernatural argu
ments and means."* — Accordingly there appears no reason to doubt that
some will stand convicted in the sight of the Omniscient Judge, for ac
tions which his moral law has not forbidden ; and that some may be un-
condemned for actions which that law does not allow. The distinction
here is the same as that to which we have before had occasion to allude,
between the desert of the agent and the quality of the act. Of this dis
tinction an illustration is contained in Isaiah x. It was the Divine will
that a certain specific course of action should be pursued in punishing
the Israelites. For the performance of this the king of Assyria was
employed : — •" I will give him a charge to take the spoil, and to take the
prey, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets." This charge
the Assyrian monarch fulfilled ; — he did the will of God: but then his
intention was criminal ; he " meant not so :" and therefore, when the
" whole work" is performed, — " I will punish" says the Almighty, " the
fruit of the stout heart of the king of Assyria, and the glory of his high
looks."
But it was said, that these principles respecting the authority of con
science were recognised in Scripture. — " One believeth that he may eat
all things : another who is weak eateth herbs. One man esteemeth
one day above another; another esteemeth every day alike." Here
then are differences, nay, contrarieties of conscientious judgments.
And what are the parties directed severally to do ? — " Let every man
be fully persuaded in his own mind;" that is, let the full persuasion
of his own mind be every man's rule of action. The situation of
these parties was, that one perceived the truth upon the subject, and the
other did not ; that in one the sense of obligation was connected with
an accurate, in the other with an inaccurate opinion. Thus again : —
" / know, and am persuaded by the Lord Jesus, that there is nothing
unclean of itself ;" — therefore, absolutely speaking, it is lawful to eat
all things : '* but to him that esteemeth any thing to be unclean, to him
it is unclean." The question is not whether his judgment was cor
rect, but what that judgment actually was. To the doubter, the unclean-
ness, that is, the sin of eating, was certain, though the act was right.
Again: "All things indeed are pure; but it is evil for that man who
eateth with offence." And again, as a general rule : " He that doubteth
is condemned if he eat, because he eateth not of faith : for whatsoever
is not of faith, is sin."t
And here we possess a sufficient answer to those who affect to make
light of the authority of conscience, and exclaim, " Every man pleads
his conscientious opinions, and that he is bound in conscience to do this
or that ; and yet his neighbour makes the same plea and urges the same
obligation to do just the contrary." But what then ? These persons' judg
ments differed : that we might expect, for they are fallible ; but their sense
of obligation was in each case really attached to its subject, and was in
each case authoritative.
One observation remains ; that although a man ought to make his con
duct conform to his conscience, yet he may sometimes justly be held
criminal for the errors of his opinion. Men often judge amiss respecting
* Works, v. t. p 55. f. 1740. f Rom. xiv.
60 OPINIONS RESPECTING A MORAL SENSE. [ESSAY I.
their duties, in consequence of their own faults : some take little pains
to ascertain the truth ; some voluntarily exclude knowledge ; and most
men would possess more accurate perceptions of the moral law, if they
sufficiently endeavoured to obtain them. And therefore, although a man
may not be punished for a given act which he ignorantly supposes to be
lawful, he may be punished for that ignorance in which his supposition
originates. Which consideration may perhaps account for the expres
sion, that he who ignorantly failed to do his master's will " shall be beaten
with few stripes." There is a degree of wickedness, to the agents of
which God at length " sends strong delusion" that they may "believe a
lie." In this state of strong delusion, they perhaps may, without vio
lating any sense of obligation, do many wicked actions. The principles
which have been here delivered, would lead us to suppose, that the pun
ishment which awaits such men will have respect rather to that intensity
of wickedness of which delusion was the consequence, than to those
particular acts which they might ignorantly commit under the influence
of the delusion itself. This observation is offered to the reader because
some writers have obscured the present subject, by speculating upon the
moral deserts of those desperately bad men, who occasionally have com
mitted atrocious acts under the notion that they were doing right.
Let us then, when we direct our serious inquiry to the immediate com
munication of the Divine will, carefully distinguish that communication
from the dictates of the conscience. They are separate and distinct con
siderations. It is obvious that those positions which some persons advance ;
— " Conscience is our infallible guide," — " Conscience is the voice of
the Deity," &c. are wholly improper and inadmissible. The term may
indeed have been employed synonymously for the voice of God : but this
ought never to be done. It is to induce confusion of language respect
ing a subject which ought always to be distinctly exhibited ; and the ne
cessity for avoiding ambiguity is so much the greater, as the conse
quences of that ambiguity are more serious : it is obvious that, on these
subjects, inaccuracy of language gives rise to serious error of opinion.
REVIEW OF OPINIONS RESPECTING A MORAL SENSE.
The purpose for which this brief review is offered to the reader is
explained in a very few words. It is to inquire, by a reference to the
written opinions of many persons, whether they do not agree in assert
ing that our Creator communicates some portions of his moral law im
mediately to the human mind. These opinions are frequently delivered,
as the reader will presently discover, in great ambiguity of language ;
but in the midst of this ambiguity there appears to exist one pervading
truth, — a truth in testimony to which these opinions are not the less sat
isfactory because, in some instances, the testimony is undesigned. The
reader is requested to observe, as he passes on, whether many of the
difficulties which inquirers have found or made, are not solved by the
supposition of a divine communication, and whether they can be solved
by any other.
" The Author of nature has much better furnished us for a virtuous
CHAP. 6.] BUTLER— BLAIR— RUSH— LORD BACON. 61
conduct than our moralists seem to imagine, by almost as quick and pow-
erful instructions as we have for the preservation of our bodies."*
" It is manifest, great part of common language and of common behaviour
over the world, is formed upon the supposition of a moral faculty, whether
called conscience, moral reason, moral sense, or divine reason ; whether
considered as a sentiment of the understanding, or as a perception of
the heart, or, which seems the truth, as including both."f Is it not re
markable, that for a " faculty" so well known " over the world," even a
name has not been found, and that a Christian bishop accumulates a mul
tiplicity of ambiguous epithets to explain his meaning ? Bishop Butler
says again of conscience, " To preside and govern, from the very econ
omy and constitution of man, belongs to it. This faculty was placed
within to be our proper governor, to direct and regulate all undue principles,
passions, and motives of action. — It carries its own authority with it,
that it is our natural guide, the guide assigned us by the Author of our
nature." Would it have been unreasonable to conclude, that there was
at least some connexion between this reprover of " all undue principles,
passions, and motives," and that law of which the New Testament speaks,
" All things that are reproved are made manifest by the light ?";£
Blair says, " Conscience is felt to act as the delegate of an invisible
Ruler ;" — " Conscience is the guide, or the enlightening or directing prin
ciple of our conduct."^ In this instance, as in many others, conscience ap
pears to be used in an indeterminate sense. Conscience is not an enlight
ening principle, but a principle which is enlightened. It is not a legislator,
but a repository of statutes. Yet the reader will perceive the fundamental
truth, that man is in fact illuminated, and illuminated by an invisible Ruler.
In the thirteenth sermon there is an expression more distinct : " God has
invested conscience with authority to promulgate his laws." It is obvious
that the Divine Being must have communicated his laws, before they
could have been promulgated by conscience. In accordance with which
the author says in another place, " Under the tuition of God let us put
ourselves." — " A heavenly Conductor vouchsafes his aid." — " Divine light
descends to guide our steps."|| It were to be wished that such senti
ments were not obscured by propositions like these : " A sense of right
and wrong in conduct, or of moral good and evil, belongs to human na
ture" — " Such sentiments are coeval with human nature ; for they are
the remains of a law which was originally written in our heart.'T
I do not know whether the reader will be able to perceive with dis
tinctness the ideas of Lord Bacon and of Dr. Rush in the following quo
tations, but I think he will perceive that they involve a recognition — ob-
sure and indeterminate, but still a recognition — of the doctrine, that the
Deity communicates his laws to the minds of men. -Dr. Rush says, " It
would seem as if the Supreme Being had preserved the moral faculty
in man from the ruins of his fall, on purpose to guide him back again to
paradise; and at the same time had constituted the conscience, both in
man and fallen spirits, a kind of royalty in his moral empire, on purpose
to show his property in all intelligent creatures, and their original resem
blance to himself." And Lord Bacon says, " The light of nature not only
shines upon the human mind through the medium of a rational faculty,
* Dr. Hutcheson : Inquiry concerning Moral Good and Evil.
f Bishop Butler: Inquiry on Virtue.
$ Eph, v. 13. $ Sermons. |] Sermon 7. ^ Sermon 13.
62 LE CLERC— SHAFTESBURY— BEATTIE— REID: [ESSAY I.
but by an internal instinct according to the law of conscience, which is
a sparkle of the purity of man's first estate."
" The faculties of our minds are so formed by nature, that as soon as
we begin to reason, we may also begin, in some measure, to distinguish
good from evil." — " We prefer virtue to vice on account of the seeds
planted in us."*
The following is not less worthy of notice because it is from the pen
of Lord Shaftesbury : " Sense of right and wrong, being as natural to us
as natural affection itself, and being a first principle in our constitution
and make, there is no speculation, opinion, persuasion, or belief, which
is capable, immediately or directly, to exclude or destroy it."f Senti
ments such as these are very commonly expressed ; and what do they
imply ? If sense of right and wrong is natural to us, it is because He
who created us has placed it in our minds. The conclusion too is inev
itable, that this sense must indicate the Divine law by which right and
wrong are discriminated. Now we do not say that these sentiments are
absolutely just, or that a sense of right and wrong is strictly " natural" to
man, but we say that the sentiments involve the supposition of some
mode of Divine guidance, — some mode in which the moral law of God,
or a part of it, is communicated by Him to mankind. And if this be indeed
true, it may surely, with all reason, be asked, why we should not assent
to the reality of that mode of communication, of which, as we shall
hereafter see, Christianity asserts the existence ?
" The first principles of morals are the immediate dictates of the moral
faculty." — " By the moral faculty, or conscience, solely, we have the
original conception of right and wrong." — " It is evident that this prin
ciple has, from its nature, authority to direct and determine with regard
to our conduct ; to judge, to acquit or condemn, and even to punish ; an
authority which belongs to no other principle of the human mind." —
" The Supreme Being has given us this light within to direct our moral
conduct." — " It is the candle of the Lord, set up within us to guide our
steps."| This is almost the language of Christianity, " That was the
true light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world."§ I do
not mean to affirm that the author of the essays speaks exclusively of
the same Divine guidance as the apostle ; but surely, if conscience ope
rates as such a " light within," as " the candle of the Lord," it can re
quire no reasoning to convince us that it is illuminated from heaven.
The indistinctness of notions which such language exhibits, appears to
arise from inaccurate views of the nature of conscience. The writer
does not distinguish between the recipient and the source ; between the
enlightened principle and the enlightening beam. The apostle speaks
only of the last ; the uninspired inquirer speaks, without discrimination,
of both ; — and hence the ambiguity.
Dr. Beattie appears to maintain the same general principle, the same
essential truth, under other phraseology. Common sense, he says, is
" that power of the mind which perceives truth, or commands belief, by
an instantaneous, instinctive, and irresistible impulse, neither derived
from education nor from habit, but from nature." — " Every man may find
the evidence of moral science in his own breast." An " instinctive"
perception of truth derived from nature, must necessarily be tantamount
to a power of perception imparted by the Deity. " Whatsoever nature
* John Le Clerc. t Characteristics.
t Dr. Reid : Essays on the Powers of the Human Mind, Ess. 3, c. 8, &c. $ John I. a
CHAP. 6.] PRICE— WATTS— VOLTAIRE— LOCKE. 63
does, God does," says Seneca : and Dr. Beattie himself explains his
own meaning — " The dictates of nature, that is, the voice of God."*
We have no concern with the justness of Beattie's philosophy, intellec
tual or moral, but the reader will perceive the recognition of the truth,
or of something like the truth, to which we have so often referred.
" What is the power within us that perceives the distinctions of right
and wrong ? My answer is, the understanding." — " Of every thought,
sentiment, and subject, the understanding is the natural and ultimate
judge." This is the language of Dr. Price ; but he does not seem
wholly satisfied with his own definition. He says, " The truth seems to
be, that in contemplating the actions of moral agents, we have both a per
ception of the understanding, and a feeling of the heart." And again,
" It is to intuition that we owe our moral ideas." He speaks too of *' the
virtuous principle," — " the inward spring of virtue ;" and says, '* Good
ness is the power of reflection, raised to its due seat of direction and
sovereignty in the mind." These various expressions do not appear to
represent very distinct notions, but after the " understanding" has been
stated to be the ultimate judge, we are presented with the idea of con
science, and then we perceive in Dr. Price's language, that which we
find in the language of so many others, "Whatever our consciences dic
tate to us, that He (the Deity) commands more evidently and undeniably^
than if by a voice from heaven we had been called upon to do it.n\
Dr. Watts says that the mind " contains in it the plain and general
principles of morality, not explicitly as propositions, but only as native
principles, by which it judges, and cannot but judge, virtue to be fit and
vice unfit. "J
And Dr. Cudworth: "The anticipations of morality do not spring
merely from notional ideas, or from certain rules or propositions arbitra
rily printed upon the soul as upon a book, but from some other more
inward and vital principle in intellectual beings as such, whereby they
have a natural determination in them to do some things and to avoid
others."^
Voltaire, in his Commentary on Beccaria|| says, " I call natural laws
those which nature dictates, in all ages, to all men, for the maintenance
of that justice which she (say what they will of her) hath implanted
in our hearts."
" And this law is that innate sense of right and wrong, of virtue and
•vice, which every man carries in his own bosom." — " These impressions,
operating on the mind of man, bespeak a law written on his heart." —
" This secret sense of right and wrong, for wise purposes so deeply im
planted by our Creator on the human mind, has the nature, force, and
effect of a law.'T
Locke : " The divine law, that law which God has set to the actions
of men, whether promulgated to them by the light of nature or the voice
of revelation, is the measure of sin and duty. That God has given a
rule whereby men should govern themselves, I think there is nobody so
brutish as to deny."** The reader should remark, that revelation and
*' the light of nature" are here represented as being jointly and equally
the law of God.
"Actions, then, instead of being tried by the eternal standard of right
* Essay on Truth. f Review of Principal Questions in Morals. t Philos. Essays.
$ Eternal and Immutable Morality. 1) Crimes and Punishmnts, Com. c. 14.
f" Dr. Shepherd's Discourse on Future Existence. ** Essay, b. 2, c. 28,
64 SOUTHEY— RUSH— ADAM SMITH. [ESSAY I.
and wrong, on which the unsophisticated heart unerringly pronounces,
were judged by the rules of a pernicious casuistry."* This may not be
absolutely true ; but there must be some truth which it is like, or such a
proposition would not be advanced. Who ever thought of attributing to
the unsophisticated heart the power of unerringly pronouncing on ques
tions of prudence ? • Yet questions of right and wrong are not, in their
own nature, more easily solved than those of prudence.
" Boys do not listen to sermons. They need not be told what is right ;
like men, they all know their duty sufficiently ; the grand difficulty is to
practise it."f Neither may this be true ; and it is not true. But upon
what species of knowledge would any writer think of affirming that boys
need not be instructed, except upon the single species, the knowledge
of duty ? And how should they know this without instruction, unless
their Creator has taught them ?
Dr. Rush exhibits the same views in a more determinate form : " Hap
pily for the human race, the intimations of duty and the road to hap
piness are not left to the slow operations or doubtful inductions of reason.
It is worthy of notice, that while second thoughts are best in matters of
judgment, first thoughts are always to be preferred in matters that relate
to morality"^
Adam Smith : " It is altogether absurd and unintelligible, to suppose
that the first perceptions of right and wrong can be derived from reason.
These first perceptions cannot be the object of reason, but of immediate
sense and feeling." — " Though man has been rendered the immediate
judge of mankind, an appeal lies from his sentence to a much higher tri
bunal, to the tribunal of their own consciences, to that of the man within
the breast, the great judge and arbiter of their conduct." In some cases
in which censure is violently poured upon us, "the judgments of the man
within, are, however, much shaken in the steadiness and firmness of their
decision. In such cases, this demigod within the breast appears, like
the demigods of the poets, though partly of immortal, yet partly too of
mortal extraction." Our moral faculties " were set up within us to be
the supreme arbiters of all our actions." " The rules which they pre
scribe are to be regarded as the commands and laws of the Deity, pro
mulgated by those vicegerents which he has thus set up within us."
" Some questions must be left altogether to the decision of the man within
the breast." And let the reader mark what follows : " If we listen with
diligent and reverential attention to what he suggests to us, his voice will
never deceive us. We shall stand in no need of casuistic rules to direct
our conduct." How wonderful that such a man, who uses almost the
language of Scripture, appears not even to have thought of the truth, —
"The anointing which ye have received of him abideth in you, and ye
need not that any man teach you !" for he does not appear to have thought
of it. He intimates that this vicegerent of God, this undeceiving teacher
to whom we are to listen with reverential attention, is some " contrivance
or mechanism within ;" and says that to examine what contrivance or
mechanism it is, "is a mere matter of philosophical curiosity !"§
A matter of philosophical curiosity, Dr. Paley seems to have thought
a kindred inquiry to be. He discusses the question, whether there is
such a thing as a moral sense or not ; and thus sums up the argument :
* Dr. Southey : Book of the Church, c. 10. f West. Rev. No. 1.
J Influence of Physical Causes on the Moral Faculty. § Theory of Mor. Sent
CHAP. 6.] PALEY— ROUSSEAU— MILTON— HALE. 65
"Upon the whole, it seems to me, either that there exists no such
instincts as compose what is called the moral sense, or that they are not
now to be distinguished from prejudices and habits." — " This celebrated
question therefore becomes, in our system, a question of pure curiosity ;
and as such we dismiss it to the determination of those who are more
inquisitive than we are concerned to be, about the natural history and
constitution of the human species."* But in another work, a work in
which he did not bind himself to the support of a philosophical system, he
holds other language ; " Conscience, our own conscience, is to be our
guide in all things." "It is through the whisperings of conscience, that
the spirit speaks. If men are wilfully deaf to their consciences, they
cannot hear the spirit. If, hearing, if being compelled to hear the remon
strances of conscience, they nevertheless decide and resolve and deter
mine to go against them, then they grieve, then they defy, then they do
despite to, the Spirit of God." " Is it superstition ? Is it not on the
contrary a just and reasonable piety to implore of God the guidance of
his holy Spirit when we have any thing of great importance to decide upon
or undertake ?" — " It being confessed that we cannot ordinarily distinguish,
at the time, the suggestions of the spirit from the operations of our minds,
it may be asked, How are we to listen to them ? The answer is, by
attending, universally, to the admonitions within us."f The tendency
of these quotations to enforce our general argument is plain and powerful.
But the reader should notice here another and a very interesting consid
eration. Paley says, " Our own conscience is to be our guide in all
t?iings." — We are to attend universally to the admonitions within us.
Now he writes a book of moral philosophy, that is, a book that shall
" teach men their duty and the reasons of it," and from this book he
absolutely excludes this law which men should universally obey, this law
which should be their "guide in all things !"
" Conscience, conscience," exclaims Rousseau in his Pensees, " divine
instinct, immortal and heavenly voice, sure guide of a being ignorant
and limited, but intelligent and free, infallible judge of good and evil, by
which man is made like unto God !" Here are attributes which, if they
be justly assigned, certainly cannot belong to humanity ; or if they do
belong to humanity, an apostle certainly could not be accurate when he
said that in us, that is in our flesh, "dwelleth no good thing." Another ob
servation of Rousseau's is worth transcribing : " Our own conscience is
the most enlightened philosopher. There is no need to be acquainted with
Tully's Offices to make a man of probity ; and perhaps the most virtuous
woman in the world is the least acquainted with the definition of virtue."
" And I will place within them as a guide
My Umpire, Conscience ; whom if they will hear,
Light after light, well used, they shall attain."}
This is the language of Milton ; and we have thus his testimony added
to the many, that God has placed within us an umpire which shall pro
nounce his own laws in our hearts. Thus in his " Christian Doctrine"
more clearly : " They can lay claim to nothing more than human powers,
assisted by that spiritual illumination which is common to all."§
Judge Hale : " Any man that sincerely and truly fears Almighty God,
and calls and relies upon him for his direction, has it as really as a son
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 1, c. 5. f Sermons. J Par. Lost, iii. 191. $ P. 81.
E
66 MARCUS ANTONINUS— SENECA— PAUL.
has the counsel and direction of his father ; and though the voice be not
audible nor discernible by sense, yet it is equally as real as if a man
heard a voice saying, This is the way, walk in it."
The sentiments of the ancient philosophers, &c. should not be forgotten,
and the rather because their language is frequently much more distinct
and satisfactory than that of the refined inquirers of the present day.
Marcus Antoninus : " He who is well disposed will do every thing
dictated by the divinity, — a particle or portion of himself, which God
has given to each as a guide and a leader"* — Aristotle : " The mind of
man hath a near affinity to God : there is a divine ruler in him" — Plu
tarch : " The light of truth is a law, not written in tables or books, but
dwelling in the mind, always a living rule which never permits the soul
to be destitute of an interior guide." — Hieron says that the universal
light, shining in the conscience, is " a domestic God, a God within the
hearts and souls of men." — Epictetus : " God has assigned to each man
a director, his own good genius, a guardian whose vigilance no slumbers
interrupt, and whom no false reasonings can deceive. So that when you
have shut your door, say not that you are alone, for your God is within.
What need have you of outward light to discover what is done, or to
light to good actions, who have God or that genius or divine principle for
your light ?"f Such citations might be greatly multiplied, but one more
must suffice. Seneca says, " We find felicity — in a pure and untainted
mind, which if it were not holy were not Jit to entertain the Deity"
How like the words of an apostle ! — " If any man defile the temple
of God, him shall God destroy : for the temple of God is holy, which
temple ye are.":): The philosopher again : " There is a holy spirit in
us ;"$ and again the apostle : " Know ye not that" " the Spirit of God
dwelleth in you ?"||
Now respecting the various opinions which have been laid before the
reader, there is one observation that will generally apply, — that they
unite in assigning certain important attributes or operations to some prin
ciple or power existent in the human mind. They affirm that this prin
ciple or power possesses wisdom to direct us aright, — that its directions
are given instantaneously as the individual needs them, — that it is insep
arably attended with unquestionable authority to command. That such
a principle or power does, therefore, actually exist, can need little further
proof; for a concurrent judgment upon a question of personal experience
cannot surely be incorrect. To say that individuals express their notions
of this principle or power by various phraseology, that they attribute to
it different degrees of superhuman intelligence, or that they refer for its
origin to contradictory causes, does not affect the general argument. The
great point for our attention is, not the designation or the supposed origin
of this guide, but its attributes; and these attributes appear to be divi)
THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD.
I. That every reasonable human being is a moral agent, — that is, that
every such human being is responsible to God, no one perhaps denies.
There can be no responsibility where there is no knowledge : " Where
* Lib. 5, sect. 27. f Lib. 1, c. 14. } 1 Cor. ill 17.
$ De Benef. c. 17, &c. || 1 Cor. iii. 16.
CHAP. 6.] NECESSITIES OF PAGANISM, ETC. 67
there is no law there is no transgression." So then every human being
possesses, or is furnished with, moral knowledge and a moral law. " If
we admit that mankind, without an outward revelation, are nevertheless
sinners, we must also admit that mankind, without such a revelation, are
nevertheless in possession of the law of God."*
Whence then do they obtain it ? — a question to which but one answer
can be given ; from the Creator himself. It appears therefore to be almost
demonstratively shown, that God does communicate his will immediately
to the minds of those who have no access to the external expression of
it. It is always to be remembered that, as the majority of mankind do
not possess the written communication of the will of God, the question,
as it respects them, is between an immediate communication and none ;
between such a communication and the denial of their responsibility in
a future state ; between such a communication and the reducing them
to the condition of the beasts that perish.
II. No one perhaps will imagine that this argument is confined to
countries which the external light of Christianity has not reached. " Who
ever expects to find in the Scriptures a specific direction for every moral
doubt that arises, looks for more than he will meet with ;"f so that even
in Christian countries there exists some portion of that necessity for
other guidance which has been seen to exist in respect of pagans. Thus
Adam Smith says that there are some questions which it " is perhaps
altogether impossible to determine by any precise rules," and that they
" must be left altogether to the decision of the man within the breast."
But, indeed, when we speak of living in Christian countries, and of having
access to the external revelation, we are likely to mislead ourselves with
respect to the actual condition of " Christian" people. Persons talk of
possessing the Bible, as if every one who lived in a Protestant country
had a Bible in his pocket, and could read it. But there are thousands
perhaps millions, in Christian and in Protestant countries, who know very
little of what Christianity enjoins. They probably do not possess the
Scriptures, or if they do, probably cannot read them. What they do
know they learn from others, — from others who may be little solicitous
to teach them, or to teach them aright. Such persons therefore are, to
a considerable extent, practically in the same situation as those who have
not heard of Christianity, and there is therefore to them a corresponding
need of a direct communication of knowledge from Heaven. But if we
see the need of such knowledge extending itself thus far, who will call
in question the doctrine that it is imparted to the whole human race ?
These are offered as considerations involving an antecedent probability
of the truth of our argument. The reader is not required to give his
assent to it as to a dogma of which he can discover neither the reason
nor the object. Here is probability very strong ; here is usefulness very
manifest, and very great ; so that the mind may reasonably be open to
the reception of evidence, whatever truth that evidence shall establish.
If the written revelation were silent respecting the immediate com
munication of the Divine will, that silence might perhaps rightly be
regarded as conclusive evidence that it is not conveyed ; because it is
so intimately connected with the purposes to which that revelation is
directed, that scarcely any other explanation could be given of its silence
* Gurney : Essays on Christianity, p. 516. t Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 1, c. 4
E 2
68 GRADATIONS OF LIGHT. [ESSAY I.
than that the communication did not exist. That the Scriptures declare
that God has communicated light and knowledge to some men by the
immediate exertion of his own agency admits not of dispute ; but this
it is obvious is not sufficient for our purpose ; and it is in the belief that
Jiey declare that God imparts some knowledge to all men, that we thus
appeal to their testimony.
Nowhere the reader should especially observe, that where the Christian
Scriptures speak of the existence and influence of the Divine Spirit on
the mind, they commonly speak of its higher operations ; not of its office
as a moral guide, but as a purifier, and sanctifier, and comforter of the
soul. They speak of it in reference to its sacred and awful operations
in connexion with .human salvation ; and thus it happens that very many
citations which, if we were writing an essay on religion, would be per
fectly appropriate, do not possess that distinct and palpable application
to an argument, which goes no further than to affirm that it is a moral
guide. And yet it may most reasonably be remarked, that if it has pleased
the Universal Parent thus, and for these awful purposes, to visit the
minds of those who are obedient to his power, — he will not suffer them
to be destitute of a moral guidance. The less must be supposed to be
involved in the greater.
Our argument does not respect the degrees of illumination which may
be possessed, respectively, by individuals,* or in different ages of the
world. There were motives, easily conceived, for imparting a greater
degree of light and of power at the introduction of Christianity than in
the present day : accordingly, there are many expressions in the New
Testament which speak of high degrees of light and power, and which,
however they may affirm the general existence of a Divine Guidance,
are not descriptive of the general nor of the present condition of mankind.
Nevertheless, if the records of Christianity, in describing these greater
" gifts," inform us that a gift, similar in its nature, but without specifica
tion of its amount, is imparted to all men, it is sufficient. Although it is
one thing for the Creator to impart a general capacity to distinguish right
from wrong, and another to impart miraculous power ; one thing to inform
his accountable creature that lying is evil, and another to enable him to
cure a leprosy ; yet this affords no reason to deny that the nature of the
gift is not the same, or that both are not divine. " The degree of light
may vary according as one man has a greater measure than another. But
the light of an apostle is not one thing and the light of the heathen another
thing, distinct in principle. They differ only in degree of power, distinct
ness, and splendour of manifestation.''!
So early as Gen. vi. there is a distinct declaration of the moral opera
tion of the Deity on the human mind ; not upon the pious and the good,
but upon those who were desperately wicked, so that even " every ima
gination of the thoughts of their heart was only evil continually." — " My
spirit shall not always strive with man." Upon this passage a good and
* I am disposed to §ffer a simple testimony to what I believe to be a truth ; — that even
in the present day, the Divine illumination and power is sometimes imparted to individuals
in a degree much greater than is necessary for the purposes of mere moral direction ; that
on subjects connected with their own personal condition or that of others, light is some
times imparted in greater brightness and splendour than is ordinarily enjoyed by mankind,
or than is necessary for our ordinary direction in life. " ,
t Hancock : Essay on Instinct, &c. p. 2, c. 7, s. 1. I take this opportunity of acknow
ledging the obligations I am under to tliis work, for many of the " Opinions" which are
cited in the last section.
,CHAP. 6.] PROPHECY— CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES. 69
intelligent man writes thus : " Surely, if his spirit had striven with them
until that time, until they were so desperately wicked, and wholly cor
rupted, that not only some, but every imagination of their hearts was evil,
yes, only evil, and that continually, we may well believe the express
Scripture assertion, that ' a manifestation of the Spirit is given to every
man to profit withal.' "*
Respecting some of the prophetical passages in the Hebrew Scriptures,
it may be observed that there appears a want of complete adaptation to
the immediate purpose of our argument, because they speak of that,
prospectively, which our argument assumes to be true retrospectively
also. "After those days, saith the Lord, I will put my law in their inward
parts, and write it in their hearts ;"f from which the reader may possibly
conclude, that before those days no such internal law was imparted. Yet
the preceding paragraph might assure him of the contrary, and that the
prophet indicated an increase rather than a commencement of internal
guidance. Under any supposition it does not affect the argument as it
respects the present condition of the human race ; for the prophecy is
twice quoted in the Christian Scriptures, and is expressly stated to be
fulfilled. Once the prophecy is quoted almost at length, and in the other
instance the important clause is retained, " I will put my laws into their
hearts, and in their minds will I write them."J
" And all thy children," says Isaiah, " shall be taught of the Lord."
Christ himself quotes this passage in illustrating the nature of his own
religion : " It is written in the prophets, and they shall be all taught of
" Thine eyes shall see thy teachers : and thine ears shall hear a word
behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it ; when ye turn to the
right-hand, and when ye turn to the left."||
The Christian Scriptures, if they be not more explicit, are more abun
dant in their testimony. Paul addresses the "foolish Galatians." The
reader should observe their character ; for some Christians, who acknow
ledge the Divine influence on the minds of eminently good men, are dis
posed to question it in reference to others. These foolish Galatians had
turned again to " weak and beggarly elements," and their dignified in-
structer was afraid of them, lest he had bestowed upon them labour in
vain. Nevertheless to them he makes the solemn declaration ; " God
hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts." If
John writes a general Epistle, an epistle which was addressed, of
course, to a great variety of characters, of whom some, it is probable,
possessed little more of the new religion than the name. The apostle
writes — " Hereby we know that he abideth in us, by the Spirit which he
hath given us."**
The solemn declarations which follow are addressed to large numbers
of recent converts, of converts whom the writer had been severely reprov
ing for improprieties of conduct, for unchristian contentions, and even
for greater faults : " Ye are the temple of the living God, as God hath
said, I will dwell in them and walk in them." — u What, know ye not that
your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you ?"ft " Know
ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth
in you ? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy ;
for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are." JJ
* Job Scott's Journal, c. i. f Jer. xxxi. 33. J Heb. viii. 10; and x. 16. $ John vi. 45.
|| Isa. xxx. 20, 21. ^ Gal. iv. 6. ** 1 John ill. 24. ft 1 Cor. vi. 19. # 1 Cor. iii. 16.
70 PERPETUITY OF GUIDANCE— OBJECTIONS. [ESSAY I.
And with respect to the moral operations of this sacred power : — "As
touching brotherly love, ye need not that I write unto you : for ye your
selves are taught of God to love one another ;"* that is, taught a duty of
morality.
Thus also : — " The grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared
to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we
should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world ;"f — or
in other words, teaching all men moral laws, — laws both mandatory and
prohibitory, teaching both what to do and what to avoid.
And very distinctly: — "The manifestation of the Spirit is given to
every man to profit withal. "£ "A Light to lighten the gentiles. "$ "I
am the Light of the world."|| " The true Light which lighteth every
man that cometh into the world."T[
" When the gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things
contained in the law, these having not the law are a law unto themselves,
which show the work of the law written in their hearts,"** — written, it
may be asked, by whom but by that Being who said, " I will put my law
in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts ?"tt
To such evidence from the written revelation I know of no other ob
jection which can be urged than the supposition that this divine instruc
tion, though existing eighteen hundred years ago, does not exist now.
To which it appears sufficient to reply, that it existed not only eighteen
hundred years ago, but before the period of the deluge ; and that the
terms in which the Scriptures speak of it are incompatible with the sup
position of a temporary duration : " all taught of God :" " in you all :"
" hath appeared unto all men :" " given to every man :" " every man that
cometh into the world" Besides there is not the most remote indication in
the Christian Scriptures that this instruction would not be perpetual ; and
their silence on such a subject, a subject involving the most sacred pri
vileges of our race, must surely be regarded as positive evidence that this
instruction would be accorded to us for ever.
How clear soever appears to be the evidence of reason, that man, being
universally a moral and accountable agent, must be possessed, univer
sally, of a moral law ; and how distinct soever the testimony of revela
tion that he does universally possess it, — objections are still urged against
its existence.
Of these, perhaps the most popular are those which are founded upon
the varying dictates of the " Conscience." If the view which we have
taken of the nature and operations of the conscience be just, these ob
jections will have little weight. That the dictates of the conscience
should vary in individuals respectively is precisely what, from the cir
cumstances of the case, is to be expected ; but this variation does not
impeach the existence of that purer ray, which, whether in less or greater
brightness, irradiates the heart of man.
I am however disposed here to notice the objectionsJJ that may be
founded upon national derelictions of portions of the moral law. " There
* 1 Thess. iv. 9. f Tit. ii. 11, 12. t 1 Cor. xii. 7. § Luke ii. 32.
I! John viii. 12. f John i. 9. ** Rom. ii. 14. ff Jer. xxxi.33.
JJ Not urged specifically, perhaps, against the Divine guidance ; but they will equally
afford an illustration of the truth.
CHAP. 6.1 NATIONAL VICES— INFANTICIDE. 71
is," says Locke, " scarce that principle of morality to be named, or rule
of virtue to be thought on, which is not somewhere or other slighted and
condemned by the general fashion of whole societies of men, governed
by practical opinions and rules of living quite opposite to others." — And
Paley : " There is scarcely a single vice which, in some age or country
of the world, has not been countenanced by public opinion : in one country
it is esteemed an office of piety in children to sustain their aged parents,
in another to despatch them out of the way : suicide in one age of the
world has been heroism, in another felony ; theft, which is punished by
most laws, by the laws of Sparta was not unfrequently rewarded : you
shall hear duelling alternately reprobated and applauded according to the
sex, age, or station of the person you converse with : the forgiveness of
injuries and insults is accounted by one sort of people magnanimity, by
another meanness."*
Upon all which I observe, that to whatever purpose these reasonings
are directed, they are defective in an essential point. They show us
indeed what the external actions of men have been, but give no proof
that these actions were conformable with the secret internal judgment;
and this last is the only important point. That a rule of virtue is
"slighted and condemned by the general fashion" is no sort of evidence
that those who joined in this general fashion did not still know that it was a
rule of virtue. There are many duties which, in the present day, are
slighted by the general fashion, and yet no man will stand up and say
that they are not duties. " There is scarcely a single vice which has
not been countenanced by public opinion ;" but where is the proof that
it has been approved by private and secret judgment ? There is a
great deal of difference between those sentiments which men seem to
entertain respeting their duties when they give expression to " public
opinion," and when they rest their hea.ds on their pillows in calm reflec
tion. " Suicide, in one age of the world, has been heroism, in another
felony ;" but it is not every action which a man says is heroic that
he believes is right. " Forgiveness of injuries and insults is accounted
by one sort of people magnanimity, by another, meanness ;" and yet they
who thus vulgarly employ the word meanness do not imagine that for
bearance and placability are really wrong.
I have met with an example which serves to confirm me in the judg
ment, that public notions, or rather public actions, are a very equivocal
evidence of the real sentiments of mankind. " Can there be greater bar
barity than to hurt an infant ? Its helplessness, its innocence, its amiable-
ness, call forth the compassion even of an enemy. — What then should
we imagine must be the heart of a parent who would injure that weak
ness which a furious enemy is afraid to violate ? Yet the exposition, that
is, the murder, of new-born infants was a practice allowed of in almost all
the states of Greece, even among the polite and civilized Athenians."
This seems a strong case against us. But what were the grounds upon
which this atrocity was defended ? — " Philosophers, instead of censuring,
supported the horrible abuse, by far-fetched considerations of public
utility."!
By far-fetched considerations of public utility ! Why had they recourse
to such arguments as these 1 Because they found that the custom could
not be reconciled with direct and acknowledged rules of virtue : because
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 1, c. 5. f Theory Mor. Sent. p. 5, c. 2.
72 DUELLING.
they felt and knew that it was wrong. The very circumstance that they
had recourse to '* far-fetched" arguments is evidence that they were con
scious that clearer and more immediate arguments were against them.
They knew that infanticide was an immoral act.
I attach some importance to the indications which this class of reason
ing affords of the comparative uniformity of human opinion, even when
it is nominally discordant. One other illustration may be offered from
more private life. Bos well, in his Life of Johnson, says that he proposed the
question to the moralist, " Whether duelling was contrary to the laws of
Christianity ?" Let the reader notice the essence of the reply : " Sir,
as men become in a high degree refined, various causes of offence arise
which are considered to be of such importance that life must be staked
to atone for them, though in reality they are not so. In a state of highly
polished society, an affront is held to be a serious injury. It must there
fore be resented, or rather a duel must be fought upon it, as men have
agreed to banish from their society one who puts up with an affront
without fighting a duel. Now, sir, it is . never unlawful to fight in self-
defence. He then who fights a duel does not fight from passion against
his antagonist, but out of self-defence, to avert the stigma of the world,
and to prevent himself from being driven from society. — While such
notions prevail, no doubt a man may lawfully fight a duel." The ques
tion was, the consistency of duelling with the laws of Christianity ; and
there is not a word about Christianity in the reply. Why ? Because its
laws can never be shown to allow duelling; and Johnson doubtless
knew this. Accordingly, like the philosophers who tried to justify the
kindred crime of infanticide, he had recourse to "far-fetched considera
tions," — to the high polish of society, — to the stigma of the world, — to
the notions that prevail. Now, while the readers of Boswell commonly
think they have Johnson's authority in favour of duelling, I think they
have his authority against it. I think that the mode in which he justified
duelling evinced his consciousness that it was not compatible with the
moral law.
And thus it is, that with respect to public opinions, and general
fashions, and thence descending to private life, we shall find that men
very usually know the requisitions of the moral law better than they
seem to know them ; and that he who estimates the mroal knowledge of
societies or individuals by their common language, refers to an uncer
tain and fallacious standard.
After all, the uniformity of human opinion respecting the great laws of
morality is very remarkable. Sir James Mackintosh speaks of Grotius,
who had cited poets, orators, historians &c., and says, " He quotes them
as witnesses, whose conspiring testimony, mightily strengthened and
confirmed by their discordance on almost every other subject, is a con
clusive proof of the unanimity of the whole human race on the great rules
of duty and fundamental principles of morals."*
From poets and orators we may turn to savage life. In 1683, that is,
soon after the colonization of Pennsylvania, the founder of the colony held a
" council and consultation" with some of the Indians. In the course of the
interview it appeared that these savages believed in a state of future retri
bution; and they described their simple ideas of the respective states of
the good and bad. The vices that they enumerated as those which would
consign them to punishment, are remarkable, inasmuch as they so
* Disc, on Study of Law of Nature and Nations,
PT. 2. CH. l.J THE LAW OF THE LAND. 73
nearly correspond to similar enumerations in the Christian Scriptures.
They were " theft, swearing, lying, whoring, murder, and the like ;"*
and the New Testament affirms that those who are guilty of adultery,
fornication, lying, theft, murder, &c. shall not inherit the kingdom of
God. The same writer, having on his travels met with some Indians,
stopped and gave them some good and serious advice. " They wept,"
says he, " and tears ran down their naked bodies. They smote their
hands upon their breasts and said, The Good Man here told them what I
said was all good."|
But reasonings such as these are in reality not necessary to the sup
port of the truth of the immediate communication of the will of God ;
because, if the variations in men's notions of right and wrong were greater
than they are, they, would not impeach the existence of that communica
tion. In the first place, we never affirm that the Deity communicates all
his law to every man ; and in the second place, it is sufficiently certain
that multitudes know his laws, and yet neglect to fulfil them.
If, in conclusion, it should be asked, what assistance can be yielded,
in the investigation of publicly authorized rules of virtue, by the discus
sions of the present chapter? we answer, Very little. But when it is
asked, Of what importance are they as illustrating the principles of mo
rality ? we answer, Very much. If there be two sources from which it
has pleased God to enable mankind to know his will, — a law written ex
ternally, and a law communicated to the heart, — it is evident that both
must be regarded as principles of morality, and that in a work like the
present, both should be illustrated as such. It is incftiental to the latter
mode of moral guidance, that it is little adapted to the formation of ex
ternal rules ; but it is of high and solemn importance to our species for
the secret direction of the individual man.
PART II.
SUBORDINATE MEANS OF DISCOVERING THE DIVINE WILL.
CHAPTER I.
THE LAW OF THE LAND.
THE authority of civil government as a director of individual conduct,
is explicitly asserted in the Christian Scriptures : — "Be subject to princi
palities and powers, — Obey magistrates,"}: — "Submit yourselves to every
ordinance of man for the Lord's sake ; whether it be to the king, as
supreme ; or unto governors, as unto them that are sent by him for the
punishment of evil-doers, and for the praise of them that do well."§
* John Richardson's Life. t Ibid. J. Tit. iii. 1. $ 1 Pet. ii. 13.
74 THE LAW OF THE LAND. [ESSAY I.
By this general sanction of civil government a multitude of questions
respecting human duty are at once decided. In ordinary cases, he upon
\vhom the magistrate imposes a law, needs not to seek for knowledge of
his duty upon the subject from a higher source. The Divine will is suf
ficiently indicated by the fact that the magistrate commands. Obedience
to the law is obedience to the expressed will of God. He who, in the
payment of a tax to support the just exercise of government, conforms to
the law of the land, as truly obeys the Divine will as if the Deity had
regulated questions of taxation by express rules.
In thus founding the authority of civil government upon the precepts
of revelation, we refer to the ultimate, and for that reason to the most
proper sanction. Not, indeed, that if revelation had been silent, the obli
gation of obedience might not have been deduced from other considera
tions. The utility of government, — its tendency to promote the order
and happiness of society, — powerfully recommend its authority ; so
powerfully, indeed, that it is probable that the worst government which
ever existed was incomparably better than none ; and we shall here
after have occasion to see that considerations of utility involve actual
moral obligation.
The purity and practical excellence of the motives to civil obedience
which are proposed in the Christian Scriptures are especially worthy of
regard. " Submit for the Lord's sake." " Be subject, not only fo
wrath', but for conscience1 sake." Submission for wrath' sake, that is
from fear of penalty, implies a very inferior motive to submission upor,
grounds of principle and duty ; and as to practical excellence, who can
not perceive that he who regulates his obedience by the motives of
Christianity acts more worthily, and honourably, and consistently, than
he who is influenced only by fear of penalties ? The man who obeys
the law for conscience' sake will obey always ; alike when disobedience
would be unpunished and unknown, as when it would be detected the next
hour. The magistrate has a security for such a man's fidelity, which no
other motive can supply. A smuggler will import his kegs if there is n<t
danger of a seizure, — a Christian will not buy the brandy, though no one
knows it but himself.
It is to be observed, that the obligation of civil obedience is enforced,
whether the particular command of the law is in itself sanctioned by
morality or not. Antecedently to the existence of the law of the magis
trate respecting the importation of brandy, it was of no consequence in
the view of morality whether brandy was imported or not ; but the pro
hibition of the magistrate involves a moral obligation to refrain. Other
doctrine has been held ; and it has been asserted, that unless the par
ticular law is enforced by morality, it does not become obligatory by the
command of the state.* But if this were true, — if no law was obliga
tory that was not previously enjoined by morality, no moral obligation
would result from the law of the land. Such a question is surely set at
rest by, " Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man." <
But the authority of civil government is a subordinate authority. If
from any cause the magistrate enjoins that which is prohibited by the
moral law, the duty of obedience is withdrawn. " All human authority
ceases at the point where obedience becomes criminal." The reason is
simple ; that when the magistrate enjoins what is criminal, he has ex-
* See Godwin's Political Justice.
Px. 2. CH. 1.] LIMITS OF ITS AUTHORITY. 75
ceeded his power : " the minister of God" has gone beyond his commis
sion. There is, in our day, no such thing as a moral plenipotentiary.
Upon these principles, the first teachers of Christianity acted when the
rulers " called them, and commanded them not to speak at all nor teach
in the name of Jesus." — " Whether," they replied, " it be right in the sight
of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye."* They ac
cordingly " entered into the temple early in the morning, and taught :"
and when, subsequently, they were again brought before the council and
interrogated, they replied, " We ought to obey God rather than men ;"
and notwithstanding the renewed command of the council, " daily in the
temple and in every house, they ceased not to teach and preach Jesus
Christ."f — Nor let any one suppose that there is any thing religious in
the motives of the apostles, which involved a peculiar obligation upon
them to refuse obedience : we have already seen that the obligation to
conform to religious duty and to moral duty is one.
To disobey the civil magistrate is however not a light thing. When
the Christian conceives that the requisitions of government and of a
higher law are conflicting, it is needful that he exercise a strict scrutiny
into the principles of his conduct. But if, upon such scrutiny, the con
trariety of requisitions appears real, no room is left for doubt respecting
his duty, or for hesitation in performing it. With the consideration of
consequences he has then no concern : whatever they may be, his path
is plain before him.
It is sufficiently evident that these doctrines respect non-compliance
only. It is one thing not to comply with laws, and another to resist
those who make or enforce them. He who thinks the payment of tithes
unchristian ought to decline to pay them ; but he would act upon strange
principles of morality, if, when an officer came to distrain upon his prop
erty, he forcibly resisted his authority. J
If there are cases in which the positive injunctions of the law may be
•lisobeyed, it is manifest that the mere permission of the law to do a
given action, conveys no sufficient authority to perform it. There are,
perhaps, no disquisitions connected with the present subject which are
of greater practical utility than those which show, that not every thing
which is legally right is morally right ; that a man may be entitled by
law to privileges which morality forbids him to exercise, or to posses
sions which morality forbids him to enjoy.
As to the possession, for example, of property : the general foundation
of the right to property is the law of the land. But as the law of the
land is itself subordinate, it is manifest that the right to property must
be subordinate also, and must be held in subjection to the moral law. A
man who has a wife and two sons, and who is worth fifteen hundred pounds,
dies without a will. The widow possesses no separate property, but
the sons have received from another quarter ten thousand pounds apiece.
Now of the fifteen hundred pounds which the intestate left, the law as
signs five hundred to the mother, and five hundred to each son. Are
these sons morally permitted to take each five hundred pounds, and to
leave their parent with only five hundred for her support ? Every man
I hope will answer, No : and the reason is this ; that the moral law,
* Acts iv. 18. f Acts v. 29, 42.
t We speak here of private obligations only. Respecting the political obligations which
result from the authority of civil government, some observations will be found in the chap
ter on Civil Obedience. Ess. iii c. v.
76 THE LAW SUBORDINATE TO MORALITY. [ESSAY I.
which is superior to the law of the land, forbids them to avail themselves
of their legal rights. The moral law requires justice and benevolence,
and a due consideration for the wants and necessities of others ; and if
justice and benevolence would be violated by availing ourselves of legal
permissions, those permissions are not sufficient authorities to direct our
conduct.
It has been laid down, that " so long as we keep within the design
and intention of a law, that law will justify us, in foro conscientia as in
foro humano, whatever be the equity or expediency of the law itself."*
From the example which has been offered, I think it sufficiently appears
that this maxim is utterly unsound : at any rate, its unsoundness will
appear from a brief historical fact. During the revolutionary war in
America, the Virginian legislature passed a law, by which " it was en
acted, that all merchants and planters in Virginia who owed money to
British merchants should be exonerated from their debts, if they paid
the money due into the public treasury, instead of sending it to Great
Britain ; and all such as stood indebted were invited to come forward
and give their money, in this manner, towards the support of the contest
in which America was then engaged." Now, according to the princi
ples of Paley, these Virginian planters would have been justified, in foro
conscientia, in defrauding the British merchants of the money which was
their due. It is quite clear that the " design and intention of the law"
was to allow the fraud, — the planters were even invited to commit it ;
and yet the heart of every reader will tell him, that to have availed them
selves of the legal permission would have been an act of flagitious dis
honesty. The conclusion is therefore distinct, — that legal decisions
respecting property are not always a sufficient warrant for individual con
duct. To the extreme disgrace of these planters it should be told, that
although at first, when they would have gained little by the fraud, few of
them paid their debts into the treasury, yet afterward many large sums
were paid. The legislature offered to take the American paper money ;
and as this paper money, in consequence of its depreciation, was not
worth a hundredth part of its value in specie, the planters, in thus pay
ing their debts to their own government, paid but one pound instead of a
hundred, and kept the remaining ninety-nine in their own pockets ! Pro
fligate as these planters and as this legislature were, it is pleasant for
the sake of America to add, that in 1796, after the supreme court of the
United States had been erected, the British merchants brought the affair
before it ; and the judges directed that every one of these debts should
again be paid to the rightful creditors.
It might be almost imagined that the moral philosopher designed to
justify such conduct as that of the planters. He says, when a man " re
fuses to pay a debt of the reality of which he is conscious, he cannot
plead the intention of the statute, unless he could show that the law in
tended to interpose its supreme authority to acquit men of debts, of the
existence and justice of which they were themselves sensible."! Now
the planters could show that this was the intention of the law, and yet
they were not justified in availing themselves of it. The error of the
moralist is founded in the assumption, that there is " supreme authority"
in the law. Make that authority, as it really is, subordinate, and the
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 4. ; f Ibid.
PT. 2, CH. 2.] THE LAW OF NATURE. 77
error and the fallacious rule which is founded upon it will be alike cor
rected.
In applying to the law of the land as a moral guide, it is of import
ance to distinguish its intention from its letter. The intention is not indeed,
as we have seen, a final consideration, but the design of a legislature is evi
dently of greater import, and consequent obligation, than the literal inter
pretation of the words in which that design is proposed to be expressed.
The want of a sufficient attention to this simple rule occasions many
snares to private virtue, and the commission of much practical injustice.
In consequence, partly, of the inadequacy of all language, and partly of the
inability of those who frame laws accurately to provide for cases which
subsequently arise, it happens that the literal application of a law some
times frustrates the intention of the legislator, and violates the obligations
of justice. Whatever be the cause, it is found in practice that courts of
law usually regard the letter of a statute rather than its general intention ;
and hence it happens that many duties devolve upon individuals in the
application of the laws in their own affairs. If legal courts usually
decide by the letter, and if decision by the letter often defeats the objects
of the legislator and the claims of justice, how shall these claims be satis
fied except by the conscientious and forbearing integrity of private men?
Of the cases in which this integrity should be brought into exercise
several examples will be offered in the early part of the next essay.
CHAPTER II.
THE LAW OF NATURE.
WE here use the term The Law of Nature as a convenient title under
which to advert to the authority, in moral affairs, of what are called
natural instincts and natural rights.
"They who rank pity among the original impulses of our nature
rightly contend that when this principle prompts us to the relief of
human misery, it indicates the Divine intention, and our duty. Indeed, the
same conclusion is deducible from the existence of the passion, what
ever account be given of its origin. Whether it be an instinct or a habit,
it is in fact a property of our nature which God appointed."*
I should reason similarly respecting natural rights, — the right to
life, — to personal liberty, — to a share of the productions of the earth.
The fact that life is given us by our Creator, — that our personal powers
and mental dispositions are adapted by him to personal liberty, — and
that he has constituted our bodies so as to need the productions of the
earth, are satisfactory indications of the Divine will, and of human duty.
So that we conclude the general proposition is true, — that a regard to
the law of nature, in estimating human duty, is accordant with the will
of God. There is little necessity for formally insisting on the authority
of the law of nature, because few are disposed to dispute that authority,
*Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 2, c. 5.
78 AUTHORITY OF THE LAW OF NATURE. [ESSAY I.
at least when their own interests are served by appealing to it. If
this authority were questioned, perhaps it might be said that the expres
sion of the Divine will tacitly sanctions it, because that expression is
addressed to us under the supposition that our constitution is such as it is ;
and because some of the Divine precepts appear to specify a point at
which the authority of the law of nature stops. To say that a rule is
only in some cases wrong is to say that in many it is right : to which
may be added the consideration, that the tendency of the law of na
ture is manifestly beneficial. No man questions that the " original im
pulses of our nature" tend powerfully to the well-being of the species.
In speaking of the instincts of nature, we enter into no curious defi
nitions of what constitutes an instinct. Whether any of our passions or
emotions be properly instinctive, or the effect of association, is of little
consequence to the purpose, so long as they actually subsist in the human
economy, and so long as we have reason to believe that their subsist
ence there is in accordance with the Divine will.
But the authority of the law of nature, like every other authority, is
subordinate to that of the moral law. This indeed is sufficiently indi
cated by those reasonings which show the universal supremacy of that
law. Yet it may be of advantage to remember such expressions as these :
" Be not afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more
that they can do. But fear him which, after he hath killed, hath power
to cast into hell."* This appears distinctly to place an instinct of na
ture in subordination to the moral law. The " fear of them that kill the
body" results from the instinct of self-preservation ; and by this instinct
we are not to be guided, v/hen the Divine will requires us to repress its
voice.
Parental affection has been classed among the instincts. f The declara
tion " He that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of
me,"t clearly subjects this instinct to the higher authority of the Divine
will : for the " love" of God is to be manifested by obedience to his law.
Another declaration to the same import subjects also the instinct of self-
preservation : " If a man hate not (that is, by comparison) his own life
also, he cannot be my disciple. "§ And here it is remarkable that these
affections or instincts are adduced for the purpose of inculcating their
subordination to the moral law.
Upon one of the most powerful instincts of nature the restraints of
revelation are emphatically laid. Its operation is restricted, not to a
few of its possible objects, but exclusively to one ; and to that one upon
an express and specified condition.||
The propriety of holding the natural impulses in subjection to a higher
law appears to be asserted in this language of Dugald Stewart : " The
dictates of reason and conscience inform us, in language which it. is im
possible to mistake, that it is sometimes a duty to check the most amiable
and pleasing emotions of the heart : to withdraw, for example, from the
sight of those distresses which stronger claims forbid us to relieve, and
to deny ourselves that exquisite luxury which arises from the exercise of
humanity." Even that morality which is not founded upon religion
recommends the same truth. Godwin says that if Fenelon were in his
palace and it took fire, and it so happened that the life either of himself
* Luke xii. 4. f Dr. Price. } Matt. x. 37. $ Luke xiv. 26.
11 See Matt. iv. 9. 1 Cor. vi. 9. vii. ] , 2. Oal. v. 19, &c.
Pr. 2, CH. 2.] LIMITS TO ITS AUTHORITY. 79
or of his chambermaid must be sacrificed, it would be the duty of the
woman to repress the instinct of self-preservation, and sacrifice hers, —
because Fenelon would do more good in the world.* If the morality of
skepticism inculcates this subjugation of our instincts to indeterminate
views of advantage, much more does the morality of the New Testament
teach us to subject them to the determinate will of God.
It is upon these principles that some of the most noble examples of
human excellence have been exhibited, — those of men who have died for
the testimony of a good conscience. If the strongest of our instincts, —
if that instinct, excited to its utmost vigour by the apprehension of a
dreadful death, might be of weight to suspend the obligation of the moral
law, it surely might have been suspended in the case of those who thus
proved their fidelity.
Yet, obvious as is the propriety and the duty of thus preferring the
Divine law before all, the dictates or the rights of nature are continually
urged as of paramount obligation. Many persons appear to think, that
if a given action is dictated by the law of nature it is quite sufficient.
Respecting the instinct of self-preservation, especially, they appear to
conclude, that to whatever that instinct prompts, it is lawful to conform to
its voice. They do not surely reflect upon the monstrousness of their
opinions : they do not surely consider that they are absoluely superseding
the moral law of God, and superseding it upon considerations resulting
merely from the animal part of our constitution. The Divine laws respect
the whole human economy, — our prospects in another world as well as
our existence in the present.
Some men, again, speak of our rights in a state of nature, as if to be
in a state of nature was to be without the jurisdiction of the moral law.
But if man be a moral and responsible agent, that law applies every
where ; to a state of nature as truly as to every other state. If some
other human being had been left with Selkirk on Juan Fernandez, and if
that other seized an animal which Selkirk had ensnared, would Selkirk
have been justified in asserting his natural right to the animal by whatever
means? It is very possible that no means would have availed to procure
the restoration of the rabbit or the bird, short of killing the offender.
Might Selkirk kill the man in assertion to his natural rights ? Every one
answers, No, — because the unsophisticated dictates in every man's mind
assure us that the rights of nature are subordinate to higher laws.
Situations similar to those of a state of nature sometimes arise in
society ;f as where money is demanded, or violence is committed by one
person on another, where no third person can be called in to assistance.
The injured party, in such a case, cannot go to every length in his own
cause by virtue of the law of nature : he can go only so far as the moral
law allows. These considerations will be found peculiarly applicable
to the rights of self-defence ; and it is pleasant to find these doctrines
supported by that skeptical morality to which we just now referred. The
author of Political Justice maintains that man possesses no rights ; that is,
no absolute rights, — none of which the just exercise is not conditional
upon the permission of a higher rule. That rule, with him, is "justice,"
— with us it is the law of God ; but the reasoning is the same in kind.
Nevertheless, the natural rights of man ought to possess extensive
application both in private and political affairs. If it were sufficiently
* Political Justice. f See Locke on Gov. b. 2, c. 7.
80 IDEAS ATTACHED TO THE WORD NATURE. [ESSAY 1.
remembered that these rights are abstractedly possessed in equality by
all men, we should find many imperative claims upon us with which we
do not now comply. The artificial distinctions of society induce forget-
fulness of the circumstance that we are all brethren : not that I would
countenance the speculations of those who think that all men should be
now practically equal; but that these distinctions are such, that the
general rights of nature are invaded in a degree which nothing can justify.
There are natural claims of the poor upon the rich, of dependants upon
their superiors, which are very commonly forgotten : there are endless
acts of superciliousness, and unkindness, and oppression, in private life,
which the law of nature emphatically condemns. When, sometimes, I
see a man of fortune speaking in terms of supercilious command to his
servant, I feel that he needs to go and learn some lessons of the law of
nature. I feel that he has forgotten what he is, and what he is not, and
what his brother is : he has forgotten that by nature he and his servant
are in strictness equal ; and that although, by the permission of Provi
dence, a various allotment is assigned to them now, he should regard
every one with that consideration and respect which is due to a man and
a brother. And' when to these considerations are added those which
result from the contemplation of our relationship to God, — that we are the
common objects of his bounty and his goodness, and that we are heirs to
a common salvation, we are presented with such motives to pay attention
to the rights of nature as constitute an imperative obligation.
The political duties which result from the law of nature it is not our
present business to investigate ; but it may be observed here, that a
very limited appeal to facts is sufficient to evince, that by many political
institutions the rights of nature have been grievously sacrificed ; and that
if those rights had been sufficiently regarded, many of these vicious
institutions would never have been exhibited in the world.
It appears worth while at the conclusion of this chapter to remark, that
a person when he speaks of " nature," should know distinctly what he
means. The word carries with it a sort of indeterminate authority ; and
he who uses it amiss may connect that authority with rules or actions
which are little entitled to it. There are few senses in which the word
is used that do not refer, however obscurely, to God; and it is for that
reason that the notion of authority is connected with the word. " The
very name of nature implies that it must owe its birth to some prior agent,
or, to speak properly, signifies in itself nothing."* Yet, unmeaning as
the term is, it is one of which many persons are very fond ; whether it
be that their notions are really indistinct, or that some purposes are
answered by referring to the obscurity of nature rather than to God.
" Nature has decorated the earth with beauty and magnificence ;"
" Nature has furnished us with joints and limbs ;" are phrases sufficiently
unmeaning ; and yet I know not that they are likely to do any other harm
than to give currency to the common fiction. But when it is said that
" Nature teaches us to adhere to truth," — " Nature condemns us for dis
honesty or deceit," — " Men are taught by nature that they are responsible
beings," — there is considerable danger that we have both fallacious and
* Milton : Christian Doct. p. 14.
Pr.2,CH.3.] UTILITY. 81
injurious notions of the authority which thus teaches or condemns us.
Upon this subject it were well to take the advice of Boyle : " Nature,"
he says, " is sometimes indeed commonly taken for a kind of semi-deity
In this sense it is best not to use it at all."* It is dangerous to induce
confusion into our ideas respecting our relationship with God.
A law of nature is a very imposing phrase ; and it might be supposed,
from the language of some persons, that nature was an independent legisla-
tress, who had sat and framed laws for the government of mankind. Nature
is nothing : yet it would seem that men do sometimes practically imagine
that a " law of nature" possesses proper and independent authority ; and
it may be suspected that with some the notion is so palpable and strong,
that they set up the authority of the " law of nature" without reference
to the will of God, or perhaps in opposition to it. Even if notions like
these float in the mind only with vapoury indistinctness, a correspondent
indistinctness of moral notions is likely to ensue. Every man should
make to himself the rule, never to employ the word nature when he
speaks of ultimate moral authority. A law possesses no authority ; the
authority rests only in the legislator : and as nature makes no laws, a
law of nature involves no obligation but that which is imposed by the
Divine will.
CHAPTER III.
UTILITY.
THAT in estimating our duties in life we ought to pay regard to what
is useful and beneficial, — to what is likely to promote the welfare of our
selves and of others, — can need little argument to prove. Yet if it were
required, it may be easily shown that this regard to utility is recom
mended or enforced in the expression of the Divine will. That will
requires the exercise of pure and universal benevolence ; which benevo
lence is exercised in consulting the interests, the welfare, and the happi
ness of mankind.. The dictates of utility, therefore, are frequently no
other than the dictates of benevolence.
Or, if we derive the obligations of utility from considerations connected
with our reason, they do not appear much less distinct. To say that to
consult utility is right, is almost the same as to say it is right to exercise
our understandings. The daily and hourly use of reason is to discover
what is fit to be done ; that is, what is useful and expedient : and since
it is manifest that the Creator, in endowing us with the faculty, designed
that we should exercise it, it is obvious that in this view also a reference
to expediency is consistent with the Divine will.
When (higher laws being silent) a man judges that of two alterna
tives one is dictated by greater utility, that dictate constitutes an obliga
tion upon him to prefer it. I should not hold a land-owner innocent who
knowingly persisted in adopting a bad mode of raising corn ; nor should
I hold the person innocent who opposed an improvement in ship-building
* Free Inquiry into the vulgarly received Notions of Nature.
4 F
82 LIMITS TO THE OBLIGATIONS [ESSAY 1.
or who obstructed the formation of a turnpike road that would benefit the
public. These are questions, not of prudence merely, but of morals also.
Obligations resulting from utility possess great extent of application
to political affairs. There are indeed some public concerns in which the
moral law, antecedently, decides nothing. Whether a duty shall be im
posed, or a charter granted, or a treaty signed, are questions which are
perhaps to be determined by expediency alone : but when a public man
is of the judgment that any given measure will tend to the general good,
he is immoral if he opposes that measure. The immorality may indeed
be made out by a somewhat different process : — such a man violates those
duties of benevolence which religion imposes : he probably disregards,
too, his sense of obligation ; for if he be of the judgment that a given
measure will tend to the general good, conscience will scarcely be silent
in whispering that he ought not to oppose it.
It is sufficiently evident, upon the principles which have hitherto been
advanced, that considerations of utility are only so far obligatory as
they are in accordance with the moral law Pursuing, however, the
method which has been adopted in the two last chapters, it may be
observed, that this subserviency of utility to the Divine will appears to be
required by the written revelation. That habitual preference of futurity
to the present time which Scripture exhibits indicates that our interests
here should be held in subordination to our interests hereafter : and as
these higher interests are to be consulted by the means which revelation
prescribes, it is manifest that those means are to be pursued, whatever
we may suppose to be their effects upon the present welfare of our
selves or of other men. " If in this life only we have hope in God, then
are we of all men most miserable." It certainly is not, in the usual sense
of the word, expedient to be most miserable. And why did they thus
sacrifice expediency ? Because the communicated will of God required
that course of life by which human interests were apparently sacrificed.
It will be perceived that these considerations result from the truth (too
little regarded in talking of " expediency" and " general benevolence"),
that utility, as it respects mankind, cannot be properly consulted without
taking into account our interests in futurity. " Let us eat and drink, for
to-morrow we die," is a maxim of which all would approve if we had no
concerns with another life. That which might be very expedient if death
were annihilation, may be very inexpedient now.
" If ye say we will not dwell in this land, neither obey the voice of
the Lord your God, saying, No ; but we will go into the land of Egypt,
where we shall see no war ;" " nor have hunger of bread ; and there will
we dwell ; it shall come to pass that the sword, which ye feared, shall
overtake you there in the land of Egypt, and the famine, whereof ye
were afraid, shall follow close after you in Egypt, and there ye shall
die."* — " We will burn incense unto the queen of heaven, and pour out
drink-offerings unto her,, for then had we plenty of victuals, and were well,
and saw no evil. But since we left off, we have wanted all things, and
have been consumed by the sword, and by the famine." — Therefore, " I
will watch over them for «vil, and not for good."f These reasoners
argued upon the principle of making expediency the paramount law ; and
it may be greatly doubted whether those who argue upon that principle
now have better foundation for their reasoning than those of old. Here
•Jer.xlii. fJer.xliv.
PT. 2, CH. 3.] RESULTING FROM EXPEDIENCY. 85
was the prospect of advantage founded, as they thought, upon experi
ence. One course of action had led (so they reasoned) to war and
famine, and another to plenty, and health, and general well-being; yet
still our Universal Lawgiver required them to disregard all these conclu
sions of expediency, and simply to conform to His will.
After all, the general experience is, that what is most expedient with
respect to another world is most expedient with respect to the present.
There may be cases, and there have been, in which the Divine will may
require an absolute renunciation of our present interests ; as the martyr
who maintains his fidelity sacrifices all possibility of advantage now.
But these are unusual cases ; and the experience of the contrary is so
general, that the truth has been reduced to a proverb. Perhaps in nine
teen cases out of twenty, he best consults his present welfare who en
deavours to secure it in another world. " By the wise contrivance of
the Author of nature, virtue is upon all ordinary occasions, even with
regard to this life, real wisdom, and the surest and readiest means of
obtaining both safety and advantage."* Were it however otherwise, the
truth of our principles would not be shaken. Men's happiness, and
especially the happiness of good men, does not consist merely in external
things. The promise of a hundred fold in this present life may still be
fulfilled in mental felicity ; and if it could not be, who is the man that
would exclude from his computations the prospect, in the world to come,
of life everlasting?
In the endeavour to produce the greatest sum of happiness, or, which
Is the same thing, in applying the dictates of utility to our conduct in
life, there is one species of utility that is deplorably disregarded both in
private and public affairs, — that which respects the religious and moral
welfare of mankind. If you hear a politician expatiating upon the good
tendency of a measure, he tells you how greatly it will promote the
interests of commerce, or how it will enrich a colony, or how it will
propitiate a powerful party, or how it will injure a nation whom
he dreads ; but you hear probably not one word of inquiry whether
it will corrupt the character of those who execute the measure, or
whether it will introduce vices into the colony, or whether it will pre
sent new temptations to the virtue of the public. And yet these consid
erations are perhaps by far the most important in the view even of en
lightened expediency ; for it is a desperate game to endeavour to benefit
a people by means which may diminish their virtue. Even such a poli
tician would probably assent to the unapplied proposition, " the virtue of
a people is the best security for their welfare." It is the same in private
life. You hear a parent who proposes to change his place of residence,
or to engage in a new profession or pursuit, discussing the comparative
conveniences of the proposed situation, the prospect of profit in the
new profession, the pleasures which will result from the new pursuit ;
but you hear probably not one word of inquiry whether the change of
residence will deprive his family of virtuous and beneficial society which
will not be replaced, — whether the contemplated profession will not
tempt his own virtue or diminish his usefulness, — or whether his chil
dren will not be exposed to circumstances that will probably taint the
purity of their minds. And yet this parent will acknowledge, in general
terms, that " nothing can compensate for the loss of religious and moral
* Dr. Smith : Theo. Mor. Sent.
F 2
84 OBLIGATIONS OF [ESSAY A.
character." Such persons surely make very inaccurate computations of
expediency.
As to the actual conduct of political affairs, men frequently legislate
as if there was no such thing as religion or morality in the world ; or as
if, at any rate, religion and morality had no concern with affairs of state.
I believe that a sort of shame (a false and vulgar shame no doubt) would
be felt by many members of senates, in directly opposing religious or
moral considerations to prospects of advantage. In our own country,
those who are most willing to do this receive, from vulgar persons, a
name of contempt for their absurdity ! How inveterate must be the im
purity of a system which teaches men to regard as ridiculous that sys
tem which only is sound !
CHAPTER IV.
THE LAW OF NATIONS— THE LAW OF HONOUR.
Although the subject of this chapter can scarcely be regarded as constituting rules of life;
yet we are induced briefly to notice them in the present Essay, partly on account of the im
portance of the affairs which they regulate, and partly because they will afford satisfactory
illustration of the principles of Morality.
SECTION I.
THE .LAW OF NATIONS.
THE Law of Nations, so far as it is founded upon the principles of
morality, partakes of that authority which those principles possess ; so
far as it is founded merely upon the mutual conventions of states, it
possesses that authority over the contracting parties which results from
the rule that men ought to abide by their engagements. The principal
considerations which present themselves upon the subject appear to be
these :
* 1. That the law of nations is binding upon those states who know
ingly allow themselves to be regarded as parties to it :
2. That it is wholly nugatory with respect to those states which are
not parties to it :
3. That it is of no force in opposition to the moral law.
I. The obligation of the law of nations upon those who join in the
convention is plain — that is, it rests, generally, upon all civilized communi
ties which have intercourse with one another. A tacit engagement only
is, from the circumstances of the case, to be expected ; and if any
state did not choose to conform to the law of nations, it should pub
licly express its dissent. The law of nations is not wont to tighten the
bonds of morality ; so that probably most of its positive requisitions are
enforced by the moral law : and this consideration should operate as an
inducement to a conscientious fulfilment of these requisitions. In time
PT. 2, Cu.4.] THE LAW OF NATIONS. 8&
of war, the law of nations prohibits poisoning and assassination, and it
is manif3stly imperative upon every state to forbear them ; but while
morality thus enforces many of the requisitions of the law of nations,
that law frequently stops short, instead of following on to whither morality
would conduct it. This distinction between assassination and some
other modes of destruction that are practised in war is not perhaps very
accurately founded in considerations of morality : nevertheless, since
the distinction is made, let it be made, and let it by all means be regarded.
Men need not add arsenic and the private dagger to those modes of
human destruction which war allows. The obligation to avoid pri
vate murder is clear, even though it were shown that the obligation
extends much further. Whatever be the reasonableness of the distinc
tion, and of the rule that is founded upon it, it is perfidious to violate
that rule.
So it is with those maxims of the law of nations which require that
prisoners should not be enslaved, and that the persons of ambassadors
should be respected. Not that I think the man who sat down with
only the principles of morality before him would easily be able to show,
from those principles, that the slavery was wrong while other things
which the law of nations allows are right, — but that, as these principles
actually enforce the maxims, as the observance of them is agreed on by
civilized states, and as they tend to diminish the evils of war, it is im
perative on states to observe them. Incoherent and inconsistent as the
law of nations is, when it is examined by the moral law, it is pleasant to
contemplate the good tendency of some of its requisitions. In 1702,
previous to the declaration of war by this country, a number of the
anticipated " enemy's" ships had been seized and detained. When the
declaration was made, these vessels were released, " in pursuance," as the
proclamation stated, " of the law of nations." Some of these vessels
were perhaps shortly after captured and irrecoverably lost to their owners :
yet though it might perplex the Christian moralist to show that the re
lease was right, and that the capture was right too, still he may rejoice
that men conform, even in part, to the purity of virtue.
Attempts to deduce the maxims of international law as they now ob
tain, from principles of morality, will always be vain. Grotius seems
as if he would countenance the attempt when he says, " Some writers
have advanced a doctrine which can never be admitted, maintaining that
the law of nations authorizes one power to commence hostilities against
another, whose increasing greatness awakens her alarms. As a matter
of expediency," says Grotius, " such a measure may be adopted ; but
the principles of justice can never be advanced in its favour."* Alas !
if principles of justice are to decide what the law of nations shail
authorize, it will be needful to establish a new code to-morrow. A great
part of the code arises out of the conduct of war ; and the usual prac
tices of war are so foreign to principles of justice and morality, that it
is to no purpose to attempt to found the code upon them. Nevertheless,
let those who refer to the law of nations introduce morality by all pos
sible means ; and if they think they cannot appeal to it always, let them
appeal to it where they can. If they cannot persuade themselves to
avoid hostilities when some injury is committed by another nation, let
* Rights of War and Peace.
86 AUTHORITY OF THE LAW OF NATIONS. [ESSAY I.
them avoid them when " another nation's greatness merely awakens their
alarms."
II. That the law of nations is wholly nugatory with respect to those
states which are not parties to it is a truth which, however sound, has
been too little regarded in the conduct of civilized nations. The state
whose subjects discover and take possession of an uninhabited island, is
entitled by the law of nations quietly to possess it. And it ought quietly
to possess it ; not that in the view of reason or of morality, the circum
stance of an Englishman's first visiting the shores of a country gives
any very intelligible right to the King of England to possess it rather
than any other prince, but that, such a rule having been agreed upon, it
ought to be observed. — But by whom ? By those who are parties to the
agreement. For which reason, the discoverer possesses no sufficient
claim to oppose his right to that of a people who were not parties to it.
So that he who, upon pretence of discovery, should forcibly exclude
from a large extent of territory a people who knew nothing of European
politics, and who in the view of reason possessed an equal or a greater
right, undoubtedly violates the obligations of morality. It may serve to
dispel the obscurity in which habit and self-interest wrap our percep
tions, to consider, that among the states which were nearest to the newly-
discovered land, a law of nations might exist which required that such
land should be equally divided among them. Whose law of nations
ought to prevail? That of European states, or that of states in the
Pacific or South Sea ? How happens it that the Englishman possesses
a sounder right to exclude all other nations, than surrounding nations
possess to partition it among them ?
Unhappily, our law of nations goes much further ; and by a monstrous
abuse of power, has acted upon the same doctrine with respect to inhab
ited countries ; for when these have been discovered, the law of nations
has talked, with perfect coolness, of setting up a standard, and thence
forth assigning the territory to the nation whose subjects set it up ; as
if the previous inhabitants possessed no other claim or right than the
bears and wolves. It has been asked (and asked with great reason),
what we should say to a canoe full of Indians who should discover Eng
land, and take possession of it in the name of their chief?
Civilized states appear to have acted upon the maxim, that no people
possess political rights but those who are parties to the law of nations ;
and accordingly the history of European settlements has been, so far as
the aborigines were concerned, too much a history of outrage, and treach
ery, and blood. Penn acted upon sounder principles : he perfectly well
knew that neither an established practice nor the law of nations could
impart a right to a country which was justly possessed by former inhab
itants ; and therefore, although Charles II. " granted" him Pennsylvania,
he did not imagine that the gift of a man in London could justify him ii?
taking possession of a distant country without the occupiers' consent
What was " granted" therefore by his sovereign he purchased of the
owners ; and the sellers were satisfied with their bargain and with him
The experience of Pennsylvania has shown that integrity is politic as
well as right. When nations shall possess greater expansion of know
ledge, and exercise greater purity of virtue, it will be found that many of
the principles which regulate international intercourse are foolish as well
as vicious • that while they disregard the interests of morality they
sacrifice their own.
PT. 2, CH. 4.] THE LAW OF HONOUR. 87
III. Respecting the third consideration, that the law of nations is of
no force in opposition to the moral law, little needs to be said here. It is
evident that upon whatever foundation the law of nations rests, its au
thority is subordinate to that of the will of God. When therefore we
say that among civilized states, when an island is discovered by one
state, other states are bound to refrain, it is not identical with saying
that the discoverer is at liberty to keep possession by whatever means.
The mode of asserting all rights is to be regulated in subordination to the
moral law. Duplicity, and fraud, and violence, and bloodshed may per
haps sometimes be the only means of availing ourselves of the rights
which the law of nations grants : but it were a confused species of
morality which should allow the commission of all this, because it is
consistent with the law of nations.
A kindred remark applies to the obligation of treaties. Treaties do
not oblige us to do what is morally wrong. A treaty is a string of en
gagements ; but those engagements are no more exempt from the juris
diction of the moral law, than the promise of a man to assassinate an
other. Does such a promise morally bind the ruffian ? No : and for this
reason, and for no other, that the performance is unlawful. And so it is
with treaties. Two nations enter into a treaty of offensive and defen
sive alliance. Subsequently one of them engages in an unjust and
profligate war. Does the treaty morally bind the other nation to abet the
profligacy and injustice ? No : if it did, any man might make any
action lawful to himself by previously engaging to do it. No doubt such a
nation and such a ruffian have done wrong ; but their offence consisted
in making the engagement, not in breaking it. Even if ordinary wars
were defensible, treaties of offensive alliance that are unconditional with
respect to time or objects can never be justified. The state, however,
which, in the pursuit of a temporary policy, has been weak enough or
vicious enough to make them, should not hesitate to refuse fulfilment,
when the act of fulfilment is incompatible with the moral law. Such a
state should decline to perform the treaty, and retire with shame, — with
shame, not that it has violated its engagements, but that it was ever so
vicious as to make them.
SECTION II.
THE LAW OF HONOUR.
THE law of honour consists of a set of maxims, written or under
stood, by which persons of a certain class agree to regulate, or are
expected to regulate their conduct. It is evident that the obligation of the
law of honour, as such, results exclusively from the agreement, tacit or
expressed, of the parties concerned. It binds them because they have
agreed to be bound, and for no other reason. He who does not choose
to be ranked among the subjects of the law of honour is under no obli
gation to obey its rules. These ri les are precisely upon the same foot
ing as the laws of free-masonry, or the regulations of a reading-room.
88 AUTHORITY OF THE LAW OF HONOUR. [ESSAY I.
He who does not choose to subscribe to the room, or to promise conform
ity to masonic laws, is under no obligation to regard the rules of either.
For which reasons, it is very remarkable that at the commencement
of his moral philosophy, Dr. Paley says, the rules of life " are, the
law of honour, the law of the land, and the Scriptures." It were
strange indeed, if that were a rule of life which every man is at liberty
to disregard if he pleases ; and which, in point of fact, nine persons out
of ten do disregard without blame. Who would think of taxing the
writer of these pages with violating a " rule of life," because he pays no
attention to the law of honour ? " The Scriptures" communicate the
will of God ; " the law of the land" is enforced by that will ; but
where is the sanction of the law of honour? — It is so much the more
remarkable that this law should have been thus formally proposed as a
rule of life, because in the same Avork it is described as " unauthorized."
How can a set of unauthorized maxims compose a rule of life ? But
further : the author says that the law of honour is a " capricious rule,
which abhors deceit, yet applauds the address of a successful intrigue."
— And further still : " it allows of fornication, adultery, drunkenness,
prodigality, duelling, and of revenge in the extreme." Surely then it can
not, with any propriety of language, be called a rule of life.
Placing, then, the obligation of the law of honour, as such, upon that
which appears to be its proper basis, — the duty to perform our lawful
engagements — it may be concluded, that when a man goes to a gaming
house or a race-course, and loses his money by betting or playing, he is
morally bound to pay : not because morality adjusts the rules of the bil
liard-room or the turf, not because the law of the land sanctions the stake,
but because the party previously promised to pay it. Nor would it affect
this obligation to allege, that the stake was itself both illegal and immoral.
So it was ; but the payment is not. The payment of such a debt in
volves no breach of the moral law. The guilt consists, not in paying
the money, but in staking it. Nevertheless, there may be prior claims
upon a man's property which he ought first to pay. Such are those of
lawful creditors. The practice of paying debts of honour with prompti
tude, and of delaying the payment of other debts, argues confusion or
depravity of principle. It is not honour, in any virtuous and rational
sense of the word, which induces men to pay debts of honour instantly.
Real honour would induce them to pay their lawful debts first : and
indeed it may be suspected that the motive to the prompt payment of
gaming debts is usually no other than the desire to preserve a fair name
with the world. Integrity of principle has often so little to do with it, that
this principle is sacrificed in order to pay them.
With respect to those maxims of the law of honour which require
conduct that the moral law forbids, it is quite manifest that they are
utterly indefensible. " If unauthorized laws of honour be allowed to create
exceptions to Divine prohibitions, there is an end of all morality as
founded in the will of the Deity, and the obligation of every duty may
at one time or other be discharged."* These observations apply to
those foolish maxims of honour which relate to duelling. These maxims
can never justify the individual in disregarding the obligations of morality.
He who acts upon them acts wickedly ; unless indeed he be so little
informed of the requisitions of morality that he does not upon this subject
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, c. 9.
PT."«, CH. 4.] CHARACTER OF THE LAW OF HONOUR. 89
perceive the distinction between right and wrong. The man of honour
therefore should pay a gambling debt, but he should not send a- challenge,
or accept it. The one is permitted by the moral law, the other is for
bidden.
Whatever advantages may result from the law of honour, it is, as a
system, both contemptible and bad. Even its advantages are of an
ambiguous kind ; for although it may prompt to rectitude of conduct,
that conduct is not founded upon rectitude of principle. The motive is
not so good as the act. And as to many of its particular rules, both
positive and negative, they are the proper subject of reprobation and
abhorrence. We ought to reprobate and abhor a system which enjoins
the ferocious practice of challenges and duels, and which allows many
of the most flagitious and degrading vices that infest the world.
The practical effects of the law of honour are probably greater and
worse than we are accustomed to suppose. Men learn, by the power of
association, to imagine that that is lawful which their maxims of conduct
do not condemn. A set of rules which inculcates some actions that
are right, and permits others that are wrong, practically operates as
a sanction to the wrong. The code which attaches disgrace to falsehood,
but none to drunkenness or adultery, operates as a sanction to drunken
ness and adultery. Does not experience verify these conclusions of
reason ? Is it not true that men and women of honour indulge, with the
less hesitation, in some vices, in consequence of the tacit permission of
the law of honour? What then is to be done but to reprobate the
system as a whole ? In this reprobation the man of sense may unite
with the man of virtue ; for assuredly the system is contemptible in the
view of intellect, as well as hateful in the view of purity.
END OF THE FIRST ESSAY.
ESSAY II.
PRIVATE RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS.
THE division which has commonly been made of the private obliga
tions of man, into those which respect himself, his neighbour, and his
Creator, does not appear to be attended with any considerable advantages.
These several obligations are indeed so involved the one with the other,
that there are few personal duties which are not also in some degree
relative, and there are no duties, either relative or personal, which may
not be regarded as duties to God. The suicide's or the drunkard's vice
injures his family or his friends : for every offence against morality is an
injury to ourselves, and a violation of the duties which we owe to Him
whose law is the foundation of morality. Neglecting, therefore, these
minuter distinctions, we observe those only which separate the private
from the political obligations of mankind.
CHAPTER I.
RELIGIOUS OBLIGATIONS.
OF the two classes of Religious Obligations, — that which respects the
exercise of piety towards God, and that which respects visible testi
monials of our reverence and devotion, the business of a work like this
is principally with the latter. Yet at the risk of being charged with
deviating from this proper business, I would adventure a few paragraphs
respecting devotion of mind.
That the worship of our Father who is in heaven consists, not in
assembling* with others at an appointed place and hour, not in joining
in the rituals of a Christian church, or in performing ceremonies, or in
participating of sacraments,! all men will agree ; because all men know
that these things may be done while the mind is wholly intent upon other
affairs, and even without any belief in the existence of God. " Two
attendances upon public worship is a form complied with by thousands,
who never kept a Sabbath in their lives."}: Devotion, it is evident, is an
operation of the mind ; the sincere aspiration of a dependent and grateful
* [We would amend the phraseology here, by inserting the qualifying term " merely" ; —
" Not merely in assembling," " not merely in joining," &c. — B.T
t It is to be regr— J *' ^ ^
used to designate
t Cowper's Letters.
*i*i^iivj. M*W |.>u.j d.o<^vy.iwg y uviO) uj iiiocj ting tiler <juaiii.y illft term iJlUiciy y~~~'
dy in assembling," " not merely in joining," &c. — B.]
' be regretted that this word, of which the origin is so exceptionable, should be
signate what are regarded as solemn acts of religion.
CHAP. 1.] FACTITIOUS SEMBLANCES OF DEVOTION. 91
being to Him who has all power both in heaven and in earth: and as the
exercise of a devotion is not necessarily dependent upon external circum
stances,* it may be maintained in solitude or in society, in the place
appropriated to worship or in the field, in the hour of business or of
quietude and rest. Even under a less spiritual dispensation of old, a
good man " worshipped, leaning upon the top of his staff."
Now it is to be feared that some persons, who acknowledge that devo
tion is a mental exercise, impose upon themselves some feelings as devo
tional which are wholly foreign to the worship of God. There is a sort
of spurious devotion, — feelings having the resemblance of worship, but
not possessing its nature, and not producing its effects. " Devotion,"
says Blair, " is a powerful principle, which penetrates the soul, which
purifies the affections from debasing attachments, and by a fixed and
steady regard to God subdues every sinful passion, and forms the incli
nations to piety and virtue."! To purify the affections and subdue the
passions is a serious operation ; it implies a sacrifice of inclination, — a
subjugation of the will. This mental operation many persons are not
willing to undergo ; and it is not therefore wonderful that some persons
are willing to satisfy themselves with the exercise of a species of devo
tion that shall be attained at less cost.
A person goes to an oratorio of sacred music. The majestic flow of
harmony, the exalted subjects of the hymns or anthems, the full and rapt
assembly, excite, and warm, and agitate his mind: sympathy becomes
powerful ; he feels the stirring of unwonted emotions ; weeps, perhaps,
or exults ; and when he leaves the assembly, persuades himself that he
has been worshipping and glorifying God.
There are some preachers with whom it appears to be an object of
much solicitude to excite the hearer to a warm and impassioned state of
feeling. By ardent declamation or passionate displays of the hopes and
terrors of religion, they arouse and alarm his imagination. The hearer,
who desires perhaps to experience the ardours of religion, cultivates the
glowing sensations, abandons his mind to the impulse of feeling, and at
length goes home in complacency with his religious sensibility, and glads
himself with having felt the fervours of devotion.
Kindred illusion may be the result of calmer causes. The lofty and
silent aisle of an ancient cathedral, the venerable ruins of some once
honoured abbey, the boundless expanse of the heaven of stars, the calm
immensity of the still ocean, or the majesty and terror of a tempest,
sometimes suffuses the mind with a sort of reverence and awe ; a sort of
" philosophic transport" which a person would willingly hope is devotion
of the heart.;};
It might be sufficient to assure us of the spuriousness of these sem
blances of religious feeling, to consider, that emotions very similar in
their nature are often excited by subjects which have no connexion with
religion. I know not whether the affecting scenes of the drama and of
fictitious story want much but association with ideas of religion to make
them as devotional as those which have been noticed : and if, on the other
* [Though not necessarily dependent upon them, it is nevertheless greatly assisted by
them.— B.]
t Sermons, No. 10.
j [The justice of the remarks in the above paragraphs maybe admitted, while at the same
time they are far from being conclusive against the propriety of external ordinances of worship.
There is nothing wrong in the mere excitement of the passions in reference to religious
objects, and though there be doubtless an evil in mistaking these natural fervours for the exer
cise? of true piety, yet the mistake is not a necessary but an accidental. — B.]
92 RELIGIOUS CONVERSATION. [ESSAY 2.
hand, the feelings of him who attends an oratorio were excited by a mili
tary band, he would think, not of the Deity or of heaven, but of armies
and conquests. Nor should it be forgotten, that persons who have habitu
ally little pretension to religion are perhaps as capable of this factitious
devotion as those in whom religion is constantly influential ; and surely
it is not to be imagined, that those who rarely direct reverent thoughts
to their Creator can suddenly adore him for an hour and then forget him
again, until some new excitement again arouses their raptures, to be again
forgotten.
To religious feelings, as to other things, the truth applies, — " By their
fruits ye shall know them." If these feelings do not tend to " purify the
affections from debasing attachments ; " if they do not tend to " form the
inclinations to piety and virtue," they certainly are not devotional. Upon
him whose mind is really prostrated in the presence of his God, the legiti
mate effect is, that he should be impressed with a more sensible con
sciousness of the Divine presence ; that he should deviate with less
facility from the path of duty ; that his desires and thoughts should be
reduced to Christian subjugation ; that he should feel an influential addi
tion to his dispositions to goodness ; and that his affections should be
expanded towards his fellow-men. He who rises from the sensibilities
of seeming devotion, and finds that effects such as these are not produced
in his mind, may rest assured that, in whatever he has been employed,
it has not been in the pure worship of that God who is a Spirit. To the
real prostration of the soul in the Divine presence, it is necessary that
the mind should be still : — " Be still, and know that I am God." Such
devotion is sufficient for the whole mind ; it needs not — perhaps in its
purest state it admits not — the intrusion of external things. And when
the soul is thus permitted to enter, as it were, into the sanctuary of God ;
when it is humble in his presence ; when all its desires are involved in
the one desire of devotedness to him ; then is the hour of acceptable
worship, — then the petition of the soul is prayer, — then is its gratitude
thanksgiving, — then is its oblation praise.
That such devotion, when such is attainable, will have a powerful tend
ency to produce obedience to the moral law may justly be expected :
and here indeed is the true connexion of the subject of these remarks
with the general object of the present essays. Without real and efficient
piety of mind, we are not to expect a consistent observance of the moral
law. That law requires, sometimes, sacrifices of inclination and of inter
est, and a general subjugation of the passions, which religion, and reli
gion only, can capacitate and induce us to make. I recommend not
enthusiasm or fanaticism, but that sincere and reverent application of the
soul to its Creator which alone is likely to give either distinctness to our
perceptions of his will, or efficiency to our motives to fulfil it.
A few sentences will be indulged to me here respecting Religious Con
versation. I believe both that the proposition is true and that it is expe
dient to set it down, — that religious conversation is one of the banes of
the religious world. There are many who are really attached to religion,
and who sometimes feel its power, but who allow their better feelings to
evaporate in an ebullition of words. They forget how much religion is
an affair of the mind, and how little of the tongue : they forget how pos
sible it is to live under its power without talking of it to their friends ;
CHAP. I.] RELIGIOUS CONVERSATION. 93
and some, it is to be feared, may forget how possible it is to talk without
feeling its influence. Not that the good man's piety is to live in his breast
like an anchorite in his cell. The evil does not consist in speaking of
religion, but in speaking too much ; not in manifesting our allegiance to
God ; not in encouraging by exhortation, and amending by our advice ;
not in placing the light upon a candlestick, — but in making religion a com
mon topic of discourse. Of all species of well-intended religious conver
sation, that perhaps is the most exceptionable which consists in narrating
our own religious feelings. Many thus intrude upon that religious quiet
ude wrhich is peculiarly favourable to the Christian character. The habit
of communicating " experiences" I believe to be very prejudicial to the
mind. It may sometimes be right to do this : in the great majority of
instances I believe it is not beneficial, and not right. Men thus dissipate
religious impressions, and therefore diminish their effects. Such observa
tion as I have been enabled to make has sufficed to convince me that
where the religious character is solid there is but little religious talk, and
that where there is much talk the religious character is superficial, and,
like other superficial things, is easily destroyed. And if these be the
attendants, and in part the consequences, of general religious conversation,
how peculiarly dangerous must that conversation be which exposes those
impressions that perhaps were designed exclusively for ourselves, and
the use of which may be frustrated by communicating them to others.
Our solicitude should be directed to the invigoration of the religious char
acter in our own minds ; and we should be anxious that the plant of piety,
if it had fewer branches, might have a deeper root.*
* [It were to be wished that the author had either said more or less upon the subject of
religious conversation. The introduction of the topic at all in this place is somewhat gra
tuitous, and the sweeping assertion that " religious conversation is one of the banes of the
religious world" is in a high degree unwarrantable. What should we think of that " religious
world" out of which religious conversation should be banished altogether? We have it upon
the highest of all authority that " out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh,"
nor is it intimated that it ought to be otherwise. Where religious themes are uppermost in
the mind, they will, by the very law of our nature, give tone to the conversation ; and unless
it be wrong to feel deeply on these subjects, it cannot be wrong to converse freely and frequently
upon them. The Scriptures give the most unequivocal sanction to this style of conversation.
" Thou shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the
way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up." — " Then they that feared tho
Lord spake often to one another." — " Thy saints shall bless thee. They shall speak of the
glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power ; to make known to the sons of men his mighty-
acts." The truth is, the conversation of the mass of mankind is governed in great measure
by the current of events transpiring in the world, and the more these events partake of a
religious character, the more clearly they resolve themselves into the special dispensations
of Providence, as they will doubtless henceforward continue to do, the more conversation
will they necessarily occasion ; and who would have it otherwise? The varied efforts of
Christian benevolence at the present day constitute no inconsiderable share of the actual
machinery of the world ; and the more there is doing in this department, the more will it be
talked of, whether in the pulpit or the parlour ; and he would certainly deprive the pious heart
of one of its most precious sources of enjoyment who would proscribe these topics from
the social circle. There may doubtless be an abuse of this as well as of every good thing,
and religious conversation may degenerate into a sickly sentimental retailing of personal
" experiences," upon which most persons of intelligence will agree with the author in fixing
the seal of reprobation. But although the excess of the practice was no doubt that which
elicited the remarks, yet his censure, notwithstanding all his qualifications, is too indiscrira
inate to be just. — B.]
94 JNOJN-SAJNC11T* OF DAYS. [EasxY 2.
SABBATICAL INSTITUTIONS.
'* Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together as the manner
of some is."* The divinely authorized institution of Moses respecting
a weekly Sabbath, and the practice of the first teachers of Christianity,
constitute a sufficient recommendation to set apart certain times for the
exercise of public worship, even were there no injunctions such as that
which is placed at the head of this paragraph. It is, besides, manifestly
proper, that beings who are dependent upon God for all things, and espe
cially for their hopes of immortality, should devote a portion of their
time to the expression of their gratitude, and submission, and reverence.
Community of dependence and of hope dictates the propriety of united
worship ; and worship to be united must be performed at times pre
viously fixed.
From the duty of observing the Hebrew Sabbath we are sufhciently
exempted by the fact that it was actually not observed by the apostles
of Christ. The early Christians met, not on the last day of the week,
but on the first. Whatever reason may be assigned as a motive for this
rejection of the ancient Sabbath, I think it will tend to discountenance the
observance of any day, as such : for if that day did not possess perpetual
sanctity, what day does possess it ?f
And with respect to the general tenor of the Christian Scriptures as
to the sanctity of particular days, it is, I think, manifestly adverse to the
opinion that one day is obligatory rather than another. " Let no man
therefore judge you in meat or in drink, or in respect of an holy day, or
of the new moon, or of the Sabbath days ; which are a shadow of things
to come, but the body is of Christ.":); Although this " Sabbath-day" was
that of the Jews, yet the passage indicates the writer's sentiments, gen
erally, respecting the sanctity of specific days : he classes them with
matters which all agree to be unimportant ; with meats, and drinks, and
* Heb. x. 25.
f [The mere circumstance of a change of the day does not surely militate with the idea
of a perpetual sanctity being attached to some portion of time. Yet this, if we understand it,
is the drift of the author's inference ; an instance of inconclusive reasoning such as we sel
dom meet with in this work. It is doubtless true that upon the abrogation of the Jewish
Sabbath there was not iheformal institution of a new Sabbath to be enforced upon the observ
ance of Christians ; and why? Such a definite injunction would probably have been under
stood to transfer to it the ceremonial rigour of the Jewish Sabbath, instead of the spiritual
character belonging to a Christian solemnity. If an apostolic injunction had been issued for
constituting a new Sabbath, the observance of the one day would naturally have been under
stood to succeed precisely into the place of that of the other, and to require the same rigour
of external solemnization. The fourth commandment, by referring the observance of the
seventh day to the creation, had sufficiently the general obligation of observing a Sabbath.
After the exodus from Egypt, the day was invested with a character specially Jewish, as it
was referred to a remarkable deliverance of that people ; and it remained for the apostles
to institute, under the same original obligation, a new Sabbath of a Christian character, as
referring to a Christian and spiritual deliverance, which should be observed with a heartfelt
devotion, not burthened with a punctilious attention to outward regulation. Such a change
the apostles accordingly authorized in the most appropriate manner, by the silent sanction
of their own example, which would as little as possible afford a pretence for an outward
formality, not belonging to the Christian character ; and the formal observance of the Jewish
Sabbath was gradually and quietly suffered to fall into disuse.
But if we have scriptural authority for the observance of a day at all, then we have, upon
the same authority, grounds for its sanctified observance, which certainly involves the duty
of a cessation of secular business and employments. The general views of our author on
the subject of sabbatical institutions are singularly loose, for one who professes to build his
moral philosophy on the basis of revealed religion. — B.]
, J Col. ii. 16, 17. In Rom. xiv. 5, 6, there is a parallel passage.
CHAP. 1.] CESSATION FROM TEMPORAL EMPLOYMENTS. 90
new moons ; and pronounces them to be alike "shadows" That strong
passage addressed to the Christians of Galatia is of the same import :
" How turn ye again to the weak and beggarly elements whereunto ye
desire again to be in bondage ? Ye observe days, and months, and times,
and years. I am afraid of you, lest I have bestowed upon you labour in
vain."* That which, in writing to the Christians of Colosse, the apostle
called " shadows," he now, in writing to those of Galatia, calls " beggarly
elements." The obvious tendency is to discredit the observance of par
ticular times ; and if he designed to except the first day of the week, it
is not probable that he would have failed to except it.
Nevertheless, the question whether we are obliged to observe the first
day of the week because it is the first, is one point — whether we ought
to devote it to religious exercises, seeing that it is actually set apart for
the purpose, is another. The early Christians met on that day, and their
example has been followed in succeeding times ; but if for any sufficient
reason (and such reasons, however unlikely to arise, are yet conceivable),
the Christian world should fix upon another day of the week instead of the
first, I perceive no grounds upon which the arrangement could be objected
to. As there is no sanctity in any day, and no obligation to appropriate
one day rathef than another, that which is actually fixed upon is the best
and the right one. Bearing in mind, then, that it is right to devote some
portion of our time to religious exercises, and that no objection exists to
the day which is actually appropriated, the duty seems very obvious, — so
to employ it.
Cessation from labour on the first day of the week is nowhere
enjoined in the Christian Scriptures.! Upon this subject, the principles
on which a person should regulate his conduct appear to be these : — He
should reflect that the whole of the day is not too large a portion of our
time to devote to public worship, to religious recollectedness, and sedate-
ness of mind ; and therefore that occupations which would interfere with
this sedateness and recollectedness, or with public worship, ought to be
foreborne. Even if he supposed that the devoting of the whole of the
day was not necessary for himself, he should reflect, that since a con
siderable part of mankind are obliged from various causes to attend to
matters unconnected with religion during a part of the day, and that one
set attends to them during one part and another during another,. — the
whole of the day is necessary for the community, even though it were
not for each individual : and if every individual should attend to his ordi
nary affairs during that portion of the day which he deemed superabun
dant, the consequence might soon be that the day would not be devoted to
religion at all.
These views will enable the reader to judge in what manner we
should decide questions respecting attention to temporal affairs on par
ticular occasions. The day is not sacred, therefore business is not neces
sarily sinful ; the day ought to be devoted to religion, therefore other
concerns which are not necessary are, generally, wrong. The remon
strance, " Which of you shall have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and
will not straightway pull him out on the Sabbath-day ?" sufficiently indi-
* Gal. iv. 10, 11.
t [But if the Christian Sabbath on the first day of the week has been merely substituted
for the Jewish on the seventh, and cessation from labour was enjoined on the seventh day,
it is virtually enjoined on the first also. The distinguishing character of the day as a holy
institution is essentially the same in each instance. — B.]
96 TRAVELLING. [Essxy 2.
cates that, when reasonable calls are made upon us, we are at liberty to
attend to them. Of the reasonableness of these calls every man must
endeavour to judge for himself. A tradesman ought, as a general rule,
to refuse to buy or sell goods. If I sold clothing, I would furnish a sur-
tout to a man who was suddenly summoned on a journey, but not to a
man who could call the next morning. Were I a builder, I would prop
a falling wall, but not proceed in the erection of a house. Were I a
lawyer, I would deliver an opinion to an applicant to whom the delay of
a day would be a serious injury, but not to save him the expense of an
extra night's lodging by waiting. I once saw with pleasure on the sign
board of a public-house, a notice that " none but travellers could be fur
nished with liquor on a Sunday." The medical profession, and those
who sell medicine, are differently situated ; yet it is not to be doubted
that both, and especially the latter, might devote a smaller portion of the
day to their secular employments, if earnestness in religious concerns
were as great as the opportunities to attend to them. Some physicians
in extensive practice attend almost as regularly on public worship as
any of their neighbours. Excursions of pleasure on this day are rarely
defensible : they do not comport with the purposes to which the day is
appropriated. To attempt specific rules upon such a subject were, how
ever, vain. Not every thing which partakes of relaxation is unallowable.
A walk in the country may be proper and right, when a party to a water
ing-place would be improper and wrong.* There will be little difficulty
in determining what it is allowable to do and what it is not, if the inquiry
be not, how much secularity does religion allow ? but how much can I,
without a neglect of duty, avoid ?
The habit which obtains with many persons of travelling on this day
is peculiarly indefensible ; because it not only keeps the traveller from
his church or meeting, but keeps away his servants, or the postmen on
the road, and ostlers, and cooks, and waiters. All these may be detained
from public worship by one man's journey of fifty miles. Such a man
incurs some responsibility. The plea of " saving time" is not remote
from irreverence ; for if it has any meaning it is this, that our time is of
more value when employed in business than when employed in the wor
ship of God. It is discreditable to this country that the number of car
riages which traverse it on this day is so great. The evil may rightly
and perhaps easily be regulated by the legislature. You talk of diffi
culties : you would have talked of many more, if it were now, for the
first time, proposed to shut up the general post-office one day in seven.
We should have heard of parents dying before their children could hear
of their danger ; of bills dishonoured and merchants discredited for want
of a post ; and of a multitude of other inconveniences which busy antici
pation would have discovered. Yet the general post-office is shut ; and
where is the evil? The journeys of stage-coaches may be greatly
diminished in number ; and though twenty difficulties may be predicted,
none would happen but such as were easily borne. An increase of the
duty per mile on those coaches which travelled every day might perhaps
* The scrupulousness of the " Puritans" in the reign of Charles I., and the laxity of Laud,
whose ordinances enjoined sports after the hours of public worship, were both really, though
perhaps not equally, improper. The Puritans attached sanctity to the day ; and Laud did
not consider, or did not regard the consideration, that his sports would not only discredit the
notion of sanctity, but preclude that recollectedness of mind which ought to be maintained
'hroughout the whole day.
CHAP. 1.] PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS— HOLYDAYS. 97
effect the object. Probably not less than forty persons are employed on
temporal affairs, in consequence of an ordinary stage-coach journey of a
hundred miles.*
A similar regulation would be desirable with respect to " Sunday
papers." The ordinary contents of a newspaper are little accordant
with religious sobriety and abstraction from the world. News of armies,
and of funds and markets, of political contests and party animosities, of
robberies and trials, of sporting, and boxing, and the stage ; with merri
ment, and scandal, and advertisements, — are sufficiently ill adapted to the
cultivation of religiousness of mind. An additional twopence on the
stamp duty would perhaps remedy the evil.
Private and especially public amusements on this day are clearly
wrong. — It is remarkable that they appear least willing to dispense with
their amusements on this day who pursue them on every other : and the
observation affords one illustration among the many of the pitiable effects
of what is called — though it is only called — a life of pleasure.
Upon every kind and mode of negligence respecting these religious
obligations, the question is not simply, whether the individual himself
sustains moral injury, but also whether he occasions injury to those
around him. The example is mischievous. Even supposing that a man
may feel devotion in his counting-house, or at the tavern, or over a pack
of cards, his neighbours who know where he is, or his family who see
what he is doing, are encouraged to follow his example, without any idea
of carrying their religion with them. " My neighbour amuses himself, —
my father attends to his legers, — and why may not I?" — So that if such
things were not intrinsically unlawful, they would be wrong because they
are inexpedient. Some things might be done without blame by the lone
tenant of a wild, which involve positive guilt in a man in society.
Holydays, such as those which are distinguished by the names of
Christmas day and Good Friday, possess no sanction from Scripture ; they
are of human institution. If any religious community thinks it is desira
ble to devote more than fifty-two days in the year to the purpose of reli
gion, it is unquestionably right that they should devote them ; and it is
among the good institutions of several Christian communities that they
do weekly appropriate some additional hours to these purposes. The
observance of the days in question is however of another kind : here, the
observance refers to the day as such ; and I know not how the censure
can be avoided which was directed to those Galatians who " observed
days, and months, and times, and years." Whatever may be the senti
ments of enlightened men, those who are not enlightened are likely to
regard such days as sacred in themselves. This is turning to beggarly
elements: this partakes of the character of superstition ; and superstition
of every kind and in every degree, is incongruous with that " glorious
liberty" which Christianity describes, and to which it would conduct us.
* There is reason to believe that, to the numerous class of coachmen, waiters, &c. th
alteration would be most acceptable. I have been told by an intelligent coachman, that the
would gladly unite in a request to their employers if it were likely to avail.
G
98 OF THE UTILITY OF FORMS, ETC. [ESSAY 2.
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS AND DEVOTIONAL FORMULARIES.
If God have made known his will that any given ceremony shall be
performed in his church, that expression is sufficient : we do not then
inquire into the reasonableness of the ceremony nor into its utility.
There is nothing in the act of sprinkling water in an infant's face, or of
immersing the person of an adult, which recommends it to the view of
reason, any more than twenty other acts which might be performed : yet,
if it be clear that such an act is required by the Divine will, all further
controversy is at an end. It is not the business any more than it is the
desire of the writer, here to inquire whether the Deity has thus expressed
his will respecting any of the rites which are adopted in some Christian
churches ; yet the reader should carefully bear in mind what it is that
constitutes the obligation of a rite or ceremony, and what does not.
Setting utility aside, the obligation must be constituted by an expression
of the Divine will : and he who inquires into the obligation of these
things should reflect that thay acquire a sort of adventitious sanctity from
the power of association. Being connected from early life with his ideas
of religion, he learns to attach to them the authority which he attaches
to religion itself; and thus perhaps he scarcely knows, because he does
not inquire, whether a given institution is founded upon the law of God,
or introduced by the authority of men.
Of some ceremonies or rites, and of almost all formularies an'1 other
appendages of public worship, it is acknowledged that they possess no
proper sanction from the will of God. Supposing the written expression
of that will to contain nothing by which we can judge either of their pro
priety or impropriety, the standard to which they are to be referred is
that of utility alone.
Now, it is highly probable that benefits result from these adjuncts of
religion, because, in the present state of mankind, it may be expected
that some persons are impressed with useful sentiments respecting reli
gion through the intervention of these adjuncts, who might otherwise
scarcely regard religion at all : it is probable that many are induced to
attend upon public worship by the attraction of its appendages, who would
otherwise stay away. Simply to be present at the font or the communion
table may be a means of inducing many religious considerations into the
mind. And as to those who are attracted to public worship by its accom
paniments, they may at least be in the way of religious benefit. One
goes to hear the singing, and one the organ, and one to see the paintings
or the architecture : a still larger number go because they are sure to find
some occupation for their thoughts ; some prayers or other offices of
devotion, something to hear, and see, and do. " The transitions from
one office of devotion to another, from confession to prayer, from prayer
to thanksgiving, from thanksgiving to ' hearing of the word,' are contrived
like scenes in the drama, to supply the mind with a succession of diver
sified engagements."* These diversified engagements I say attract some
\vho would not otherwise attend ; and it is better that they should go from
imperfect motives than that they should not go at all. It must however
be confessed, that the groundwork of this species of utility is similar to
that which has been urged in favour of the use of images by the Romish
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 5, c. 5.
CHAP. 1.] OF THE UTILITY OF FORMS, ETC. 99
church. " Idols," say they, "are laymen's books ; and a great means to
stir up pious thoughts and devotion in the learnedest."* Indeed, if it is
once admitted that the prospect of advantage is a sufficient reason for
introducing objects addressed to the senses into the public offices of wor
ship, it is not easy to define where we shall stop. If we may have mag
nificent architecture, and music, and chanting, and paintings ; why may
we not have the yet more imposing pomp of the Catholic worship ? I do
not say that this pomp is useful and right, but that the principle on
which such things are introduced into the worship of God furnishes no
satisfactory means of deciding what amount of external observances
should be introduced, and what should not. If figures on canvass are
lawful because they are useful, why is not a figure in marble or in
wood ? Why may we not have images by way of laymen's books, and
of stirring up pious thoughts and devotion ?
But it is to be apprehended of such things, or of u contrivances like
scenes in a drama," that they have much less tendency to promote devo
tion than some men may suppose. No doubt they may possess an im
posing effect, they may powerfully interest and affect the imagination ;
but does not this partake too much of that factitious devotion of which
we speak ? Is it certain that such things have much tendency to purify
the mind, and raise up within it a power that shall efficiently resist
temptation ?
Even if some benefits do result from the employment of these appen
dages of worship, they are not without their dangers and their evils. With
respect to those which are addressed to the senses, whether to the eye or
ear, there is obviously a danger that, like other sensible objects, they will
withdraw the mind from its proper business, — the cultivation of pure
religious affections towards God. And respecting the formularies of
devotion, it has been said by a writer whom none will suspect of over
stating their evils, " The arrogant man, as if, like the dervise in the
Persian fable, he had shot his soul into the character he assumes, re
peats with complete self-application, Lord, I am not high-minted : the
trifier says, I hate vain thoughts : the irreligious, Lore?, how I love thy
law : he who seldom prays at all confidently repeats, All the day long I
am occupied in thy statutes."] These are not light considerations :
here is insincerity and untruths ; and insincerity and untruths, it should
be remembered, in the place and at the time when we profess to be
humbled in the presence of God. The evils too are inseparable from
the system. Wherever preconcerted formularies are introduced, there
will always be some persons who join in the use of them without pro
priety, or sincerity, or decorum. Nor are the evils much extenuated by
the hope which has been suggested, that u the holy vehicle of their
hypocrisy may be made that of their conversion." It is very Christian-
like to indulge this hope, though I fear it is not very reasonable. Hypoc
risy is itself an offence against God ; and it can scarcely be expected
that any thing so immediately connected with the offence will often
effect such an end.
It is not however in the case of those who use these forms in a manner
positively hypocritical that the greatest evil and danger consists :
" There is a kind of mechanical memory in the tongue, which runs over
the form without any aid of the understanding, without any concur-
* Milton's Prose Works, v. 4, p. 266. f More's Moral Sketches, 3d Ed. p. 429.
G2
100 FORMS OF PRAYER. [ESSAY 2.
rence of the will, without any consent of the affections ; for do we not
sometimes implore God to hear a prayer to which we are ourselves not
attending ?"* We have sufficient reason for knowing that to draw nigh
to God with our lips while our hearts are far from him is a serious
offence in his sight ; and when it is considered how powerful is the tend
ency of oft-repeated words to lose their practical connexion with feel
ings and ideas, it is to be feared that this class of evils resulting from
the use of forms is of very wide extent. Nor is it to be forgotten, that
as even religious persons sometimes employ " the form without any aid
of the understanding," so others are in danger of substituting the form
for the reality, and of imagining that if they are exemplary in the obser
vance of the externals of devotion, the work of religion is done.
Such circumstances may reasonably make us hesitate in deciding the
question of the propriety of these external things, as a question of expe
diency. They may reasonably make us do more than this : for does
Christianity allow us to invent a system of which some of the conse
quences are so bad, for the sake of a beneficial end ?
Forms of prayer have been supposed to rest on an authority somewhat
more definite than that of other religious forms. " The Lord's Prayer is
a precedent, as well as a pattern, for forms of prayer. Our Lord appears,
if not to have prescribed, at least to have authorized, the use of fixed
forms, when he complied with the request of the disciple who said unto
him, Lord, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples."! If we
turn to Matt, vi., where the fullest account is given of the subject, we are,
I think, presented with a different view. Our Saviour, who had been
instituting his more perfect laws in place of the doctrines which had been
taught of old time, proceeded to the prevalent mode of giving alms, of
praying, of fasting, and of laying up wealth. He first describes these
modes, and then directs in what manner Christians ought to give alms,
and pray, and fast. Now if it be contended that he requires us to employ
that particular form of prayer which he then dictated, it must also be
contended that he requires us to adopt that particular mode of giving
money which he described, and those particular actions, when fasting,
which he mentions. If we are obliged to use the form of prayer, we are
obliged to give money in secret ; and when we fast, to put oil upon our
heads. If these particular modes were not enjoined, neither is the form
of prayer ; and the Scriptures contain no indication that this form was
ever used at all, either by the apostles or their converts. But if the
argument only asserts that fixed forms are " authorized" by the language
of Christ, the question becomes a question merely of expediency. Sup
posing that they are authorized, they are to be employed only if they are
useful. Even in this view, it may be remarked that there is no reason
to suppose, from the Christian Scriptures, that either Christ himself or
his apostles ever used a fixed form. If he had designed to authorize, and
therefore to recommend, their adoption, is it not probable that some indi
cations of their having been employed would be presented ? But instead
of this, we find that every prayer which is recorded in the volume was
delivered extempore, upon the then occasion, and arising out of the then
existing circumstances.
Yet, after all, the important question is not between preconcerted and
extempore prayer as such, but whether any prayer is proper and right
* More's Moral Sketches, 3d Ed. p. 327. f Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3, b. 5, c. 5.
CHAP. 1.] SKEPTICISM. 101
but that which is elicited by the influence of the Divine power. The
inquiry into this solemn subject would lead us too wide from our general
business. The truth, however, that " we know not what to pray for
as we ought," is as truly applicable to extempore as to formal prayer.
Words merely do not constitute prayer, whether they be prepared before
hand or conceived at the moment they are addressed. There is reason
to believe that he only offers perfectly acceptable supplications who
offers them " according to the will of God," and "of the ability which
God giveth ;" and if such be indeed the truth, it is scarcely compa
tible either with a prescribed form of words or with extempore prayer at
prescribed times. Yet if any Christian, in the piety of his heart, believes
it to be most conducive to his religious interests to pray at stated times
or in fixed forms, far be it from me to censure this the mode of his devo
tion, or to assume that his petition will not obtain access to the Uni
versal Lord.
Finally, respecting uncommanded ceremonials and rituals of all kinds,
and respecting all the appendages of public worship which have been
adopted as helps to devotion, there is one truth to which perhaps every
good man will assent, — that if religion possessed its sufficient and rightful
influence, if devotion of the heart were duly maintained without these
things, they would no longer be needed. He who enjoys the vigorous
exercise of his limbs is encumbered by the employment of a crutch.
Whether the Christian world is yet prepared for the relinquishment of
these appendages and " helps," — whether an equal degree of efficacious
religion would be maintained without them, — are questions which I pre
sume not to determine : but it may nevertheless be decided, that this is the
state of the Christian church to which we should direct our hopes and our
endeavours, — and that Christianity will never possess its proper influ
ence, and will not effect its destined objects, until the internal dedication
of the heart is universally attained.
To those who may sometimes be brought into contact with persons
who profess skepticism respecting Christianity, and especially to those
who are conscious of any tendency in their own minds to listen to the
objections of these persons, it may be useful to observe, that the grounds
upon which skeptics build their disbelief of Christianity are commonly very
slight. The number is comparatively few whose opinions are the result
of any tolerable degree of investigation. They embraced skeptical
notions through the means which they now take of diffusing them among
others, — not by arguments, but jests ; not by objections to the historical
evidence of Christianity, but. by conceits and witticisms ; not by examin
ing the nature of the religion as it was delivered by its Founder, but by
exposing the conduct of those who profess it. Perhaps the seeming
paradox is true, that no men are so credulous, that no men accept
important propositions upon such slender evidence, as the majority of
those who reject Christianity. To believe that the religious opinions of
almost all the civilized world are founded upon imposture, is to believe
an important proposition ; a proposition which no man who properly
employs his faculties would believe without considerable weight of
evidence. But what is the evidence upon which the " unfledged witlings
who essay their wanton efforts" against religion usually found their
102 MOTIVES TO SKEPTICISM. [ESSAY 2.
notions ? Alas ! they are so far from having rejected Christianity upon
the examination of its evidences, that they do not know what Christianity
is. To disbelieve the religion of Christianity upon grounds which shall
be creditable to the understanding involves no light task. A man must
investigate and scrutinize ; he must examine the credibility of testi
mony ; he must weigh and compare evidence ; he must inquire into the
reality of historical facts. If, after rationally doing all this, he disbe
lieves in Christianity, — be it so. I think him, doubtless, mistaken, but I
do not think him puerile and credulous. But he who professes skepticism
without any of this species of inquiry is credulous and puerile indeed :
and such most skeptics actually are. " Concerning unbelievers and
doubters of every class, one observation may almost universally be made
with truth, that they are little acquainted with the nature of the Christian
religion, and still less with the evidence by which it is supported.'* In
France, skepticism has extended itself as widely perhaps as in any
country in the world, and its philosophers, forty or fifty years ago, were
ranked among the most intelligent and sagacious of mankind. And upon
what grounds did these men reject Christianity ? Dr. Priestley went with
Lord Shelburne to France, and he says, " I had an opportunity of seeing
and conversing with every person of eminence wherever we came :" I
found " all the philosophical persons to whom I was introduced at Paris
unbelievers in Christianity, and even professed atheists. As I chose on
all occasions to appear as a Christian, I was told' by some of them that I
was the only person they had ever met with of whose understanding
they had any opinion, who professed to believe in Christianity. But on
interrogating them on the subject, I soon found that they had given
no proper attention to it, and did not really know what Christianity was.
This was also the case with a great part of the company that I saw at
Lord Shelburne's."f If these philosophical men rejected Christianity in
such contemptible and shameful ignorance of its nature and evidences,
upon what grounds are we to suppose the ordinary striplings of infidelity
reject it?
How then does it happen that those who affect skepticism are so ambi
tious to make their skepticism known ? Because it is a short and easy
road to distinction ; because it affords a cheap means of gratifying vanity.
To " rise above vulgar prejudices and superstitions," — " to entertain
enlarged and liberal opinions," are phrases of great attraction, especially
to young men ; and how shall they show that they rise above vulgar pre
judices, how shall they so easily manifest the enlargement of their
views, as by rejecting a system which all their neighbours agree to be
true ? They feel important to themselves, and that they are objects of
curiosity to others : and they are objects of curiosity, not on account of
their own qualities, but on account of the greatness of that which they
contemn. The peasant who reviles a peasant may revile him without
an auditor, but a province will listen to him who vilifies a king. I know
not that an intelligent person should be advised to reason with these puny
assailants ; their notions and their conduct are not the result of reasoning.
What, they need is the humiliation of vanity and the exposure of folly.
A few simple interrogations would expose their folly ; and for the pur
poses of humiliation, simply pass them by. The sun that shines upon
them makes them look bright and large. Let reason and truth with-
* Gisborne's Duties of Men. t Memoirs of Dr. Priestley
CHAP. 2.] PROPERTY. 103
draw their rays, and these seeming stars will quickly set in silence and
in darkness.
More contemptible motives to the profession of infidelity cannot per
haps exist, but there are some which are more detestable. Hartley says
that " the strictness and purity of the Christian religion in respect to
sexual licentiousness is probably the chief thing which makes vicious
men first fear and hate, and then vilify and oppose it."*
Whether therefore we regard the motives which lead to skepticism, or
the reasonableness of the grounds upon which it is commonly founded,
there is surely much reason for an ingenuous young person to hold in
contempt the jests, and pleasantries, and sophistries respecting revelation
with which he may be assailed.
CHAPTER II.
PROPERTY.
DISQUISITIONS respecting the origin of property appear to be of little
use ; partly because the origin can scarcely be determined, and partly
because, if it could be determined, the discovery would be little applicable
to the present condition of human affairs. In whatever manner an estate
was acquired two thousand years ago, it is of no consequence in inquiring
who ought to possess it now.
The foundation of the right to property is a more important point.
Ordinarily, the foundation is the law of the land. Of civil government —
which institution is sanctioned by the Divine will — one of the great offices
is, to regulate the distribution of property ; to give it, if it has the power
of giving ; or to decide, between opposing claimants, to whom it shall be
assigned.
The proposition therefore, as a general rule, is sound, — He possesses
a right to property to whom the law of the land assigns it. This however
is only a general rule. It has been sufficiently seen that some legal pos
sessions are not permitted by the moral law. The occasional opposition
between the moral and the legal right to property is inseparable from the
principle on which law is founded, — that of acting upon general rules.
It is impossible to frame any rule the application of which shall, in every
variety of circumstances, effect the requisitions of Christian morality. A
rule which in nine cases proves equitable may proves utterly unjust in the
tenth. A rule which in nine cases promotes the welfare of the citizen
may in the tenth outrage reason and humanity.
It is evident that in the present state of legal institutions, the evils
which result from laws respecting property must be prevented, if they
are prevented at all, by the exercise of virtue in individuals. If the
law assigns a hundred pounds to me, which every upright man perceives
ought in equity to have been assigned to another, that other has no means
of enforcing his claim. Either therefore the claim of equity must be
disregarded, or / must voluntarily satisfy it.
* Observations on Man.
104 INSOLVENCY. [ESSAY IT
There are many cases connected with the acquisition or retention of
property, with which the decisions of law are not immediately connected
but respecting which it is needful to exercise a careful discrimination, in
order to conform to the requisitions of Christian rectitude. The whole
subject is of great interest, and of extensive practical application in the
intercourse of life. The reader will therefore be presented with several
miscellaneous examples, in which the moral law appears to require
greater purity of rectitude than is required by statutes, or than is ordina
rily practised by mankind.
INSOLVENCY. — Why is a man obliged to pay his debts 1 It is to be
hoped that the morality of few persons is lax enough to reply — Because
the law compels him. But why then is he obliged to pay them ? Be
cause the moral law requires it. That this is the primary ground of the
obligation is evident ; otherwise the payment of any debt which a vicious
or corrupt legislature resolved to cancel, would cease to be obliga
tory upon the debtor. The Virginian statute which we noticed in the
last Essay would have been a sufficient justification to the planters to
defraud their creditors.
A man becomes insolvent and is made a bankrupt : he pays his credit
ors ten shillings instead of twenty, and obtains his certificate. The
law therefore discharges him from the obligation to pay more. The
bankrupt receives a large legacy, or he engages in business and acquires
property. Being then able to pay the remainder of his debts, does the
legal discharge exempt him from the obligation to pay them ? No : and
for this reason, that the legal discharge is not a moral discharge ; that
as the duty to pay at all was not founded primarily on the law, the law
cannot warrant him in withholding a part.
It is however said, that the creditors have relinquished their right to
the remainder by signing the certificate. But why did they accept half
their demands instead of the whole ? Because they were obliged to do
it ; they could get no more. As to granting the certificate, they do it
because to withhold it would be only an act of gratuitous unkindness. I/
would be preposterous to say that creditors relinquish their claims volun
tarily ; for no one would give up his claim to twenty shillings on tho
receipt of ten, if he could get the other ten by refusing. It might
as reasonably be said that a man parts with a limb voluntarily, because,
having incurably lacerated it, he submits to an amputation. It is to be
remembered too, that the necessary relinquishment of half the demand
is occasioned by the debtor himself: and it seems very manifest that
when a man, by his own act, deprives another of his property, he cannot
allege the consequences of that act as a justification of withholding it
after restoration is in his power.
The mode in which an insolvent man obtains a discharge, does not
appear to affect his subsequent duties. Compositions, and bankruptcies,
and discharges by an insolvent act are in this respect alike. The
acceptance of a part instead of the whole is not voluntary in either case ;
and neither case exempts the debtor from the obligation to pay in full if
he can.
If it should be urged that when a person intrusts property to another,
he knowingly undertakes the risk of that other's insolvency, and that if the
contingent loss happens, he has no claims to justice on the other, the
answer is this : that whatever may be thought of these claims, they are
CHAP. 2.] REFORM OF PUBLIC OPINION. 105
not the grounds upon which the debtor is obliged to pay. The debtor
always engages to pay, and the engagement is enforced by morality :
the engagement therefore is binding, whatever risk another man may
incur by relying upon it. The causes which have occasioned a per
son's insolvency, although they greatly affect his character, do not
affect his obligations : the duty to repay when he has the power is the
same whether the insolvency were occasioned by his fault or his misfor
tune. In all cases, the reasoning that applies to the debt applies also
to the interest that accrues upon it ; although, with respect to the accept
ance of both, and especially of interest, a creditor should exercise a con
siderate discretion. — A man who has failed of paying his debts ought
always to live with frugality, and carefully to economize such money as
he gains. He should reflect that he is a trustee for his creditors, and
that all the needless money which he expends is not his, but theirs.
The amount of property which the trading part of a commercial
nation loses by insolvency is great enough to constitute a considerable
national evil. The fraud too that is practised under cover of insolvency
is doubtless the most extensive of all species of private robbery. The
profligacy of some of these cases is well known to be extreme. He who is
a bankrupt to-day riots in the luxuries of affluence to-morrow ; bows to
the creditors whose money he is spending, and exults in the success and
the impunity of his wickedness. Of such conduct we should not speak
or think but with detestation. We should no more sit at the table, or
take the hand, of such a man, than if we knew he had got his money
last night on the highway. There is a wickedness in some bankruptcies
to which the guilt of ordinary robbers approaches but at a distance.
Happy, if such wickedness could not be practised with legal impunity !*
Happy, if public opinion supplied the deficiency of the law, and held
the iniquity in rightful abhorrence !f
Perhaps nothing would tend so efficaciously to diminish the general
evils of insolvency as a sound state of public opinion respecting the
obligation to pay our debts. The insolvent who, with the means of pay
ing, retains the money in his own pocket, is, and he should be regarded as
being, a dishonest man. If public opinion held such conduct to be of
the same character as theft, probably a more powerful motive to avoid
insolvency would be established than any which now exists. Who would
not anxiously (and therefore in almost all cases successfully) struggle
against insolvency, when he knew that it would be followed, if not by
permanent poverty, by permanent disgrace ? If it should be said that to
act upon such a system would overwhelm an insolvent's energies, keep
him in perpetual inactivity, and deprive his family of the benefit of his
exertions, — I answer, that the evil, supposing it to impend, would be much
less extensive than may be imagined. The calamity being foreseen
would prevent men from becoming insolvent ; and it is certain that the
majority might have avoided insolvency by sufficient care. Besides, if
a man's principles are such that he would rather sink into inactivity than
exert himself in order to be just, it is not necessary to mould public
opinion to his character. The question too is, not whether some men
would not prefer indolence to the calls of justice, but whether the public
should judge accurately respecting what those calls are. The state, and
especially a family, might lose occasionally by this reform of opinion, —
* See the 3d Essay. \ Ibid.
5
106 EXAMPLES OF INTEGRITY. [ESSAY IT.
and so they do by sending a man to New South Wales ; but who would
think this a good reason for setting criminals at large ? And, after all,
much more would be gained by preventing insolvency than lost by the
ill consequences upon the few who failed to pay their debts.
It is cause of satisfaction that, respecting this rectified state of opin
ion, and respecting integrity of private virtue, some examples are offered.
There is one community of Christians which holds its members obliged
to pay their debts whenever they possess the ability, without regard to
the legal discharge.* By this means there is thrown over the character
of every bankrupt who possesses property a shade which nothing but
payment can dispel. The effect (in conjunction we may hope with
private integrity of principle) is good — good, both in instituting a new
motive to avoid insolvency, and in inducing some of those who do become
insolvent subsequently to pay all their debts.
Of this latter effect many honourable instances might be given : two
which have fallen under my observation I would briefly mention. — A
man had become insolvent, I believe, in early life ; his, creditors divided
his property among them, and gave him a legal discharge. He appears
to have formed the resolution to pay the remainder, if his own exertions
should enable him to do it. He procured employment, by which how
ever he never gained more than twenty shillings a week ; and worked
industriously and lived frugally for eighteen years. At the expiration of
this time, he found he had accumulated enough to pay the remainder, and
he sent the money to his creditors. Such a man, I think, might hope
to derive, during the remainder of his life, greater satisfaction from the
consciousness of integrity than he would have derived from expending
the money on himself. It should be told that many of his creditors,
when they heard the circumstances, declined to receive the money or
voluntarily presented it to him again. One of these was my neighbour:
he had been little accustomed to exemplary virtue, and the proffered
money astonished him : he talked in loud commendation of what to him
was unheard-of integrity ; signed a receipt for the amount, and sent it
back as a present to the debtor. The other instance may furnish hints
of a useful kind. It was the case of a female who had endeavoured to
support herself by the profits of a shop. She however became insolvent,
paid some dividend, and received a discharge. She again entered into
business, and in the course of years had accumulated enough to pay the
remainder of her debts. But the infirmities of age were now coming
on, and the annual income from her savings was just sufficient for the
wants of declining years. Being thus at present unable to discharge her
obligations without subjecting herself to the necessity of obtaining
relief from others ; she executed a will, directing that at her death the
creditors should be paid the remainder of their demands : and when she
died, they were paid accordingly.
* " Where ?iny have injured others in their property, the greatest frugality should he ob
served by themselves and their families ; and although they may have a legal discharge
from their creditors, both equity and our Christian profession demand that none when they
have it in their power should rest satisfied until a just restitution be made to those who have
suffered by them."
" And it is the judgment of this meeting, that monthly and other meetings ought not to
receive collections or bequests for the use of the poor or any other services of the Society,
of persons who have fallen short in the payment of their just debts, though legally dis
charged by their creditors : for until such persons have paid the deficiency, their possessions
cannot in equity be considered as their own." — Official Documents of the Yearly Meeting of the
Society of Friends.
CHAP. .20 WILLS, LEGATEES, AND HEIRS. 107
WILLS, LEGATEES, AND HEIRS. The right of a person to order the
distribution of his property after death is recommended by its utility ;
and were this less manifest than it is, it would be sufficient for us that the
right is established by civil government.
It however happens in practice, that persons sometimes distribute their
property in a manner that is both unreasonable and unjust. This evil
the law cannot easily remedy ; and consequently the duty of remedying it
devolves upon those to whom the property is bequeathed, if they do not
prevent the injustice,, it cannot be prevented. This indicates the propriety,
on the part of a legatee or an heir, of considering, when property devolves
to him in a manner or in a proportion that appears improper, how he may
exercise upright integrity lest he should be the practical agent of injustice
or oppression. Another cause for the exercise of this integrity consists
in this circumstance : — When the right of a person to bequeath his prop
erty is admitted, it is evident that his intention ought in general to be
the standard of his successor's conduct : and accordingly the law, in
making enactments upon the subject, directs much of its solicitude to
the means of ascertaining and of fulfilling the testator's intentions*
These intentions must, according to the existing systems of jurispru
dence be ascertained by some general rules, — by a written declaration
perhaps, or a declaration of a specified kind, or made in a prescribed
form, or attested in a particular manner. But in consequence of this it
happens, that as through accident or inadvertency a testator does not
always comply with these forms, the law, which adheres to its rules, frus
trates his intentions, and therefore, in effect, defeats its own object in
prescribing the forms. Here again the intentions of the deceased and
the demands of equity cannot be fulfilled, except by the virtuous integ
rity of heirs and legatees.
I. If my father, who had one son besides myself, left nine-tenths of
his property to me, and only the remaining tenth to my brother, I should
not think the will, however authentic, justified me in taking so large a
proportion, unless I could discover some reasonable motive which influ
enced my father's mind. If my brother already possessed a fortune, and
I had none ; if I were married and had a numerous family, and he were sin
gle and unlikely to marry ; if he was incurably extravagant, and would pro
bably in a few weeks or months squander his patrimony ; in these or in such
circumstances, I should think myself at liberty to appropriate my father's
bequest : otherwise I should not. Thus, if the disproportionate division
was the effect of some unreasonable prejudice against my brother or
fondness for me ; or if it was made at the unfair instigation of another
person, or in a temporary fit of passion or disgust ; I could not, virtu
ously, enforce the will. The reason is plain. The will being unjust or
extremely unreasonable, I should be guilty of injustice or extreme un
reasonableness in enforcing it.
By the English law, the real estates of deceased persons are not avail
able for the payment of debts of simple contract, unless they are made
so by the will. The rule is, to be sure, sufficiently barbarous ; and he
who intentionally forbears to make the estates available dies, as has been
properly observed, with a deliberate fraud in his heart. But this fraud
cannot be completed without the concurrence of a second person, the
heir. He therefore is under a moral obligation to pay such debts out of
the real estate, notwithstanding the deficiency of the will : for if the
father was fraudulent in making such a will, the son is fradulent in taking
advantage of his parent's wickedness. He may act with strict legality
108 INFORMAL WILLS. [Es*Ay Ii.
in keeping the property, but he is condemned as dishonest by the moral
law.
I II. A person bequeaths five hundred pounds to some charity, — for ex
ample, to the Foundling, — and directs that the money shall be laid out
in land. His intention is indisputably plain : but the law, with certain
motives, says that the direction to lay out the money in land makes the
bequest void ; and it will not enforce the bequest. But, because the tea*
tator forgot this, can the residuary legatee honestly put the five hun
dred pounds into his own pocket? Assuredly he cannot. The money
is as truly the property of the Foundling as if the will had been accu
rately framed. The circumstance that the law will not compel him to
give it up, although it may exempt him from an action, cannot exempt
him from guilt.
The law, either with reason or without it, prefers that an estate should
descend to a brother's son rather than a sister's. Still it permits a man
to leave it to his sister's son if he pleases ; and only requires, that when
he wishes to do this, he shall have three witnesses to his will instead of
two. The reader will remark that the object of this legal provision is,
that the intention of the party shall be indisputably known. The legis
lature does not wish to control him in the disposition of his property, but
only to ascertain distinctly what his intention is. A will then is made,
leaving an estate to a sister's son, and is attested by two witnesses only.
The omission of the third is a matter of mere inadvertence : no doubt
exists as to the person's intention or its reasonableness. Is it then con
sistent with integrity for the brother's son to take advantage of the omis
sion, and to withhold the estate from his cousin ? I think the conscience
of every man will answer, No : and if this be the fact, we need inquire
no further. Upon such a subject, the concurrent dictates in the minds
of men can scarcely be otherwise than true and just. But even criti
cally, the same conclusion appears to follow. The law required three
witnesses in order that the person's intention should be known. Now it
is known : and therefore the very object of the law is attained. To take
advantage of the omission is, in reality, to misapply the law. It is in
sisting upon its letter in opposition to its motives and design. Dr. Paley
has decided this question otherwise, by a process of reasoning of which
the basis does not appear very sound. He says that such a person has
no " right" to dispose of the property, because the law conferred the
right upon condition that he should have three witnesses, with which
condition he has not complied. But surely the " right" of disposing prop
erty is recognised generally by the law ; the requisition of three wit
nesses is not designed to confer a right, but to adjust the mode of exer
cising it. Indeed, Paley himself virtually gives up his own doctrine ;
for he says he should hesitate in applying it, if " considerations of pity
to distress, of duty to a parent, or of gratitude to a benefactor,"* would be
disregarded by the application. Why should these considerations suspend
the applicability of his doctrine ? Because Christianity requires us to
attend to them, — which is the very truth we are urging : we say the per
mission of the law is not a sufficient warrant to disregard the obligations
of Christianity.
A man who possesses five thousand pounds has two sons, of whom John
is well provided for, and Thomas is not. With the privity of his sons he
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 23.
CHAP. 2.] CHARITABLE BEQUESTS— MINORS' DEBTS 109
makes a will, leaving four thousand pounds to Thomas and one to John,
explaining to both the reason of this division. A fire happens in the
house, and the will is burnt ; and the father, before he has the opportu
nity of making another, is carried off by a fever. Now the English
law would assign a half of the money to each brother. If John demands
his half, is he a just man ? Every one, I think, will perceive that he is
not, and that if he demanded it, he would violate the duties of benevolence.
The law is not his sufficient rule.
A person whose near relations do not stand in need of his money
adopts the children of distant relatives, with the declared intention or
manifest design of providing for them at his death. If, under such cir
cumstances, he dies without a will, the heir-at-law could not morally
avail himself of his legal privilege, to the injury of these expectant par
ties. They need the money, and he does not ; which is one good reason
for not seizing it : but the intention of the deceased invested them with
a right ; and so that the intention is known, it matters little to the moral
obligation whether it is expressed on paper or not.
Possibly some reader may say, that if an heir or legatee must always
institute inquiries into the uncertain claims of others before he accepts
the property of the deceased, and if he is obliged to give up his own
claims whenever theirs seem to preponderate, he will be involved in end
less doubts and scruples, and testators will never know whether their
wills will be executed or not : the answer is, that no such scrupulous
ness is demanded. Hard-heartedness, and extreme unreasonableness,
and injustice are one class of considerations ; critical scruples and un
certain claims are another.
It may be worth a paragraph to remark, that it is to be feared some
persons think too complacently of their charitable bequests, or, what is
worse, hope that it is a species of good works which will counterbalance
the offence of some present irregularities of conduct. Such bequests
ought not to be discouraged ; and yet it should be remembered that he
who gives money after his death parts with nothing of his own. He
gives it only when he cannot retain it. The man who leaves his money
for the single purpose of doing good does right ; but he who hopes that
it is a work of merit should remember that the money is given, that the
privation is endured, not by himself, but by his heirs. A man who has
more than he needs should dispense it while it is his own.
MINORS' DEBTS. A young man under twenty-one years of age pur
chases articles of a tradesman, of which some are necessary and some
are not. Payment for unnecessary articles cannot be enforced by the
English law, — the reason with the legislature being this, that thought
less youths might be practised upon by designing persons, and induced
to make needless and extravagant purchases. But is the youth who pur
chases unnecessary articles with the promise to pay when he becomes
of age exempted from the obligation? Now it is to be remembered,
generally, that this obligation is not founded upon the law of the land,
and therefore that the law cannot dispense with it. But if the tradesman
has actually taken advantage of the inexperience ol a youth, to cajole him
into debts of which he was not conscious of the amount or the impro
priety, it does not appear that he is obliged to pay them ; and for this
reason, that he did not, in any proper sense of the term, come under an
obligation to pay them. In other cases, the obligation remains. The
circumstance that the law will not assist the creditor to recover tho
410 A WIFE'S DEBTS— BILLS OF EXCHANGE. [ESSAY II
money does not dispense with it. ft is fit, no doubt, that these dishon
ourable tradesmen should be punished, though the mode of punishing
them is exceptionable indeed. It operates as a powerful temptation to
fraud in young men, and it is a bad system to discourage dishonesty in
one person by tempting the probity of another. The youth too is of all
persons the last who should profit by the punishment of the trader. Ha
is reprehensible himself: young men who contract such debts are sel
dom so young or so ignorant as not to know that they are doing wrong.
A man's wife " runs him into debt" by extravagant purchases which he
fs alike unable to prevent or to afford. Many persons sell goods to such a
woman who are conscious of her habits and of the husband's situation
yet continue to supply her extravagance, because they know the law will
enable them to enforce payment from the husband. These persons act
legally, but they are legally wicked. Do they act as they would desire
others to act towards them ? Would one of these men wish another
tradesman so to supply his own wife if she was notoriously a spendthrift ?
If not, morality condemns his conduct : and the laws, in effect, condemn
it too ; for the legislature would not have made husbands responsible for
their wives' debts anymore than for their children's, but fur the presump
tion that the wife generally buys what the husband approves. Debts of
unprincipled extravagance are not debts which the law intended to pro
vide that the husband should pay. If all women contracted such debts,
the legislature would instantly alter the law. If the legislature could
have made the distinction, perhaps it would have made it ; since it did
not or could not, the deficiency must be supplied by private integrity.
BILLS or EXCHANGE. The law of England provides, that if the pos
sessor of a bill of exchange fails to demand payment on the day on which
it becomes due, he takes the responsibility, in case of its eventual non
payment, from the previous endorsers, and incurs it himself. This as a
general rule may be just. A party may be able to pay to-day and unable
a week hence ; and if in such a case a loss arises by one man's negli
gence, it were manifestly unreasonable that it should be sustained by
others. But if the accepter becomes unable to pay a week or a month
before the bill is due, the previous endorsers cannot in justice throw the
loss upon the last possessor, even though he fails to present it on the
appointed day. For why did the law make its provision ? In order to
secure persons from the loss of their property by the negligence of others
over whom they had no control. But, in the supposed case, the loss is
not occasioned by any such cause, and therefore the spirit of the law does
not apply to it. You are insisting upon its literal, in opposition to its
just, interpretation. Whether the bill was presented on the right day or
the wrong makes no difference to the previous endorsers, and for such a
case the law was not made.
A similar rule of virtue applies to the case of giving notice of refusal
to accept or to pay. If, in consequence of the want of this notice, the
party is subjected to loss, he may avail himself of the legal exemption
from the last possessor's claim. If the want of notice made no difference
in his situation, he may not.
SHIPMENTS. The same principles apply to a circumstance which not
unfrequently occurs among men of business, and in which integrity is.
Cmr. 2.] WRECKS— DISTRAINTS. HI
I think, very commonly sacrificed to interest. A tradesman in Falmouth
is in the habit of purchasing goods of merchants in London, by whom
the goods are forwarded in vessels to Falmouth. Now it is a rule of law,
founded upon established custom, that goods when shipped are at the risk
of the buyer. The law however requires that an account of the shipment
shall be sent to the buyer by post, in order that if he thinks proper he
may ensure his goods; and in order to effect this object, the law directs,
that if the account be not sent and the vessel is wrecked, it will not
enforce payment from the buyer. All this as a general rule is just. But
in the actual transactions of business, goods are very frequently sent by
sea by an express or tacit agreement between the parties without notice
by the post. The Falmouth tradesman then is in the habit of thus con
ducting the matter for a series of years. He habitually orders his goods
to be sent by ship, and the merchant, as habitually, with the buyer's
knowledge, sends the invoice with them. Of course the buyer is not in
the habit of ensuring. At length a vessel is wrecked and a package is
lost. When the merchant applies for payment, the tradesman says, " No :
you sent no invoice by post : I shall not pay you, and I know you cannot
compel me by law." Now this conduct, I think, is condemned by morality.
The man in Falmouth does not suffer any loss in consequence of the want
of notice. He would not have ensured if he had received it ; and there
fore the intention of the legislature in withholding its assistance from the
merchant was not to provide for such a case. Thus to take advantage
of the law without regard to its intention is unjust. Besides, the custom
of sending the invoice with the goods rather than by post is for the advan
tage of the buyer only: it saves him a shilling in postage. The under
standing among men of business that the risk of loss at sea impends on
buyers is so complete, that they habitually take that risk into account in
the profits which they demand on their goods : sellers do not ; and this
again indicates the injustice of throwing the loss upon the seller when an
accident happens at sea. Yet tradesmen I believe rarely practise any
other justice than that which the law will enforce ; as if not to be com
pelled by law were to be exempt from all moral obligation. It is hardly
necessary to observe, that if the man in Falmouth was actually prevented
from ensuring by the want of an invoice by post, he has a claim of justice
as well as of law upon the merchant in London.
DISTRAINTS. It is well known that in distraints for rent, the law allows
the landlord to seize whatever goods he finds upon the premises, without
inquiring to whom they belong. And this rule, like many others, is as
good as»a general rule can be ; since an unprincipled tenant might easily
contrive to make it appear that none of the property was his own, and
thus the landlord might be irremediably defrauded. Yet the landlord
cannot always virtuously act upon the rule of law. A tenant who expects
a distraint to-morrow, and of whose profligacy a lodger in the house has
no suspicion, secretly removes his own goods in the nightr and leaves the
lodger's to be seized by the bailiff. The landlord ought not, as a matter
of course, to take these goods, and to leave a family perhaps without a
table or a bed. The law indeed allows it, but benevolence, but probity,
does not.
A man came to a friend of mine and proposed to take a number of his
sheep to graze. My friend agreed with him, and sent the sheep. The
next day these sheep were seized by the man's landlord for rent. It was
an artifice, preconcerted between the landlord and the tenant, in order that
112 UNJUST DEFENDANTS— EXTORTION. [ESSAY II.
the rent might be paid out of my friend's pocket ! Did this landlord act
justly ? The reader says, " No, he deserved a prison." And yet the sei
zure was permitted by the law ; and if morality did not possess an authority
superior to law, the seizure would have been just. Now, in less flagitious
instances, the same regard to the dictates of morality is to be maintained,
notwithstanding the permissions of law. The contrivers of this aban
doned iniquity possessed the effrontery to come afterward to the gentle
man whom they had defrauded, to offer to compound the matter ; to send
back the sheep, which were of the value perhaps of fifty pounds, if he
would give them thirty pounds in money. He refused to countenance
such wickedness by the remotest implication, and sent them away to
enjoy all their plunder.
Theoretically, perhaps no seizures are unjust when no fraud is practised
by the landlord, because persons who intrust their property on the premises
of another are supposed to know the risk, and voluntarily to undertake it.
But in practice, this risk is often not thought of, and not known. Besides,
mere justice is not the only thing which a landlord has to take into
account. The authority which requires us to be just requires us to be
compassionate and kind. And here, as in many other cases, it may be
remarked, that the object of the law in allowing landlords to seize what
ever they find was to protect them from fraud, and not to facilitate the
oppression of under-tenants and others. If the first tenant has practised
no fraud, it seems a violation of the intention of the law to enforce it
against those who happen to have intrusted their property in his hands.
UNJUST DEFENDANTS. It does not present a very favourable view of
the stal.e of private principle, that there are so many who refuse justice to
plaintiffs unless they are compelled to be just by the law. It is indispu
table, that a multitude of suits are undertaken in order to obtain property
or rights \vhich the defendant knows he ought voluntarily to give up.
Such a person is certainly a dishonest man. When the verdict is given
against him, I regard him in the light of a convicted robber, — differing
from other robbers in the circumstance that he is tried at nisi prius instead
of the crown bar. For what is the difference between him who takes
what is another's and him who withholds it ? This severity of censure
applies to some who are sued for damages. A man who, whether by
design or inadvertency, has injured another, and will not compensate him
unless he is legally compelled to do it, is surely unjust. Yet many of
these persons seem to think that injury to property, or person, or character,
entails no duty to make reparation except it be enforced. Why, the
law does not create this duty, it only compels us to fulfil it. If the minds
of such persons were under the influence of integrity, they would pay
such debts without compulsion. This subject is one among the many
upon which public opinion needs to be aroused and to be rectified. When
our estimates of moral character are adjusted to individual probity of prin
ciple, some of those who now pass in society as creditable persons will
be placed at the same point, on the scale of morality as many of those
who are consigned to a jail.
EXTORTION. It is a very common thing for a creditor who cannot
obtain payment from the person who owes him money, to practise a spe
cies of extortion upon his relations or friends. The man perhaps is
insolvent and unable to pay, and the creditor threatens to imprison him
in order to induce his friends to pay the money rather than allow him to
be immured in a jail. This is not honest. Why should a person bo
CHAP. 2.] SLAVES— PRIVATEERING. H3
deprived of his property because he has a regard for the reputation and
comfort of another man ? It will be said that the debtor's friends pay
voluntarily ; but it is only with that sort of willingness with which a trav
eller gives his purse to a footpad, rather than be violently assaulted or
perhaps killed. Both the footpad and the creditor are extortioners, — one
obtains money by threatening mischief to the person, and the other by
threatening pain to the mind. We do not say that their actions are equal
in fiagitiousness, but we say that both are criminal. It is said, that after
the death of Sheridan, and when a number of men of rank were assem
bled to attend his funeral, a person elegantly dressed, and stating himself
to be a relation of the deceased, entered the chamber of death. He
urgently entreated to be allowed to view the face of his departed friend,
and the coffin-lid was unscrewed. The stranger pulled a warrant out of
his pocket, and arrested the body. It was probably a concerted scheme
to obtain a sum (which it is supposed was five hundred pounds) that had
been owing by the deceased. The creditor doubtless expected that a
number of men of fortune would be present, who would prefer losing five
hundred pounds to suffering the remains of their friend to be consigned
to the police. The extortioner was successful : it is said that Lord Sid-
mouth and another gentleman paid the money. Was this creditor an
honest man ? If courts of equity had existed adapted to such cases, and
the man were prosecuted, the consciences of a jury would surely have
impelled them to send him to Newgate.
SLAVES. If a person left me an estate in Virginia or the West Indies,
with a hundred slaves, the law of the land allows me to keep possession
of both ; the moral law does not. I should therefore hold myself impera
tively obliged to give these persons their liberty. I do not say that I
would manumit them all the next day ; but if I deferred their liberation,
it ought to be for their sakes, not my own ; just as if I had a thousand
pounds for a minor, my motive in withholding it from him would be
exclusively his own advantage. Some persons who perceive the flagi-
tiousness of slavery retain slaves. Much forbearance of thought and
language should be observed towards the man in whose mind perhaps
there is a strong conflict between* conscience and the difficulty or loss
which might attend a regard to its dictates. I have met with a feeling
and benevolent person who owned several hundred slaves, and who, I
believe, secretly lamented his own situation. I would be slow in cen
suring such a man, and yet it ought not to be concealed, that if he com
plied with the requisitions of the moral law, he would at least hasten to
prepare them for emancipation. To endeavour to extricate one's self from
the difficulty by selling the slaves were self-imposition. A man may as
well keep them in bondage himself as sell them to another who would
keep them in it. A narrative has appeared in print of the conduct of a
gentleman to whom a number of slaves had been bequeathed, and who
acted towards them upon the principles which rectitude requires. He
conveyed them to some other country, educated some, procured employ
ment for others, and acted as a Christian towards all.
Upon similar grounds, an upright man should not accept a present
of a hundred pounds from a person who had not paid his debts, nor become
his legatee. If the money were not rightfully his, he cannot give it ; if
it be rightfully his creditors', it cannot be mine.
PRIVATEERS. Although familiarity with war occasions many obliquities
in the moral notions of a people, yet the silent verdict of public opinion
H
114 EXAMPLES OF INTEGRITY— CONFISCATIONS. [ESBAY IL
is, I think, against the rectitude of privateering. It is not regarded as
creditable and virtuous ; and this public disapprobation appears to be on
the increase. Considerable exertion at least has been made on the part
of the American government to abolish it. To this private plunderer
himself I do not talk of the obligations of morality ; he has many lessons
of virtue to learn before he will be likely to listen to such virtue as it is
the object of these pages to recommend : but to him who perceives the
fiagitiousness of the practice, I would urge the consideration that he ought
not to receive the plunder of a privateer even at second hand. If a man
ought not to be the legatee of a bankrupt, he ought not to be the legatee of
him who gained his money by privateering. Yet it is to be feared that many
who would not fit out a privateer would accept the money which the
owners had stolen. If it be stolen it is not theirs to give ; and what
one has no right to give another has no right to accept.
During one of our wars with France, a gentleman who entertained
such views of integrity as these was partner in a merchant vessel, and
in spite of his representations the other owners resolved to fit her out as
a privateer. They did so, and she happened to capture several vessels.
This gentleman received from time to time his share of the prizes, and
laid it by ; till at the conclusion of the war it had amounted to a con
siderable sum. What was to be done with the money ? He felt that
as an upright man he could not retain the money ; and he accordingly
went to France, advertised for the owners of the captured vessels, and
returned to them the amount. Such conduct, instead of being a matter for
good men to admire, and for men of loose morality to regard as needless
scrupulosity, ought, when such circumstances arise, to be an ordinary
occurrence. I do not relate the fact because I think it entitles the party
to any extraordinary praise. He was honest ; and honesty was his duty.
The praise, if praise be due, consists in this, — that he was upright
where most men would have been unjust. Similar integrity upon parallel
subjects may often be exhibited again : upon privateering it cannot often be
repeated ; for when the virtue of the public is great enough to make such in
tegrity frequent, it will be great enough to frown privateering from the world.
At the time of war with the Dutch, 'about forty years ago, an English
merchant vessel captured a Dutch Indiaman. It happened that one of
the owners of the merchantman was one of the society of Friends or
Quakers. This society, as it objects to war, does not permit its members
to share in such a manner in the profits of war. However, this person,
when he heard of the capture, ensured his share of the prize. The vessel
could not be brought into port, and he received of the underwriters eighteen
hundred pounds. To have retained this money would have been equiva
lent to quitting the society ; so he gave it to his friends to dispose of it
as justice might appear to prescribe. The state of public affairs on the
Continent did not allow the trustees immediately to take any active
measures to discover the owners of the captured vessel. The money
therefore was allowed to accumulate. At the termination of the war
with France the circumstances of the case were repeatedly published in
the Dutch journals, and the full amount of every claim that has been
clearly made out has been paid by the trustees.
CONFISCATIONS. I do not know whether the history of confiscations
affords any examples of persons who refused to accept the confiscated
property. Yet, when it is considered under what circumstances these
seizures are frequently made — of revolution, and civil war, and the like,
CHAP. 2.] PUBLIC MONEY. 113
when the vindictive passions overpower the claims of justice and human
ity it cannot be doubted that the acceptance of confiscated property has
sometimes been an act irreconcilable with integrity. Look, for example,
at the confiscations of the French Revolution. The government which
at the moment held the reins doubtless sanctioned the appropriation of the
property which, they seized ; and in so far the acceptance was legal.
But that surely is not sufficient. Let an upright man suppose himself to
be the neighbour of another, who, with his family, enjoys the comforts
of a paternal estate. In the distractions of political turbulence this
neighbour is carried off and banished, and the estate is seized by order
of the government. Would such a man accept this estate when the
government offered it, without inquiry or consideration ? Would he sit
down in the warm comforts of plenty, while his neighbour was wandering
destitute perhaps in another land, and while his family were in sorrow and
in want ? Would he not consider whether the confiscation was consist
ent with justice and rectitude, — and whether if it were right with respect
to the man, it was right with respect to his children and his wife, who per
haps did not participate in his offences ? It may serve to give clearness
to our perceptions to consider, that if Louis XVII., had been restored to
the throne soon after his father's death, it is probable that many of the
emigrants would have been reinstated in their possessions. Louis's
restoration might have been the result of some intrigue, or of a battle.
Do, then, the obligations of mankind as to enjoying the property of
another depend on such circumstances as battles and intrigues ? If the
returning emigrant would have rightfully repossessed his estate if the
battle was successful, can the present occupier rightfully possess it if the
battle is not successful ? Is the result of a political manoeuvre a proper
rule to guide a man's conscience in retaining or giving up the houses and
lands of his neighbours ? Politicians and those who profit by confisca
tions may be little influenced by considerations like these ; but there are
other men who, I think, will perceive that they are important, and who,
though confiscated property may never be offered to them, will be able to
apply the principles which these considerations illustrate to their own
conduct in other affairs.
It is worthy of observation, that in our own country, " of all the per
sons who were enriched by the spoils of the religious houses, there was
not one who suffered for his opinions during the persecution."* How
can this be accounted for, except upon the presumption that those who
were so willing to accept these spoils were not remarkable for their
fidelity to religion ?
PUBLIC MONEY. Some writers on political affairs declaim much
against sinecures and "places;" not always remembering that these
things may be only modes of paying, and of justly paying, the servants of
the public. It would no doubt be preferable that he who is rewarded for
serving the public, should be rewarded avowedly as such, and not by the
salary of a nominal office which is always filled, whether the receiver
deserves the money or not. Such a mode of remuneration would be
more reasonable in itself, and more satisfactory to the people. How
ever, if public men deserve the money they receive, the name by which
the salary is designated is not of much concern. The great point is the
desert. That this ought to be a great point with a government there can
* Southey's Book of the Church, vol. ii.
H 2
116 PUBLIC MONEY. [ESSAY H.
be no doubt, and it is indeed upon governments that writers are wont to
urge the obligation.
But our business is with the receivers. May a person morally appro
priate to his own use any amount of money which a government chooses
lo give him ? No. Then, when the public money is offered to any man,
he is bound in conscience to consider whether he is in equity entitled to
it or not. If, not being entitled, he accepts it, he is not an upright man.
For who gives it to him ? The government : that is, the trustee for the
public. A government is in a situation not dissimilar to that of a trustee
for a minor. It has no right to dispose of the public property according
to its own will. AVhatever it expends, except with a view to the public
advantage, is to be regarded as so much fraud ; and it is quite manifest
that if the government has no right to give, the private person can have
no right to receive. I know of no exception to the application of these
remarks, except where the public have expressly delivered up a certain
amount of revenue to be applied according to the inclination of the
governing power.
Now the equity of an individual's claims upon the public property
must be founded upon his services to the public : not upon his services to
a minister, not upon the partiality of a prince, but upon services actually
performed or performing for the public.* The degree in which familiarity
with an ill custom diminishes our estimate of its viciousness is won
derful. If you propose to a man to come to some understanding with a
guardian, by which he shall get a hundred pounds out of a ward's estate,
he starts from you with abhorrence. Yet that same man, if a minister
should offer him ten times as much of the public property, puts it com
placently and thankfully into his pocket. Is this consistency ? Is it
uprightness ?
In estimating the recompense to which public men are entitled, let the
principles by all means be liberal. Let them be well paid: but let the
money be paid, not given ; let it be the discharge of a debt, not the
making of a present. And were I a servant of the public, I should not
assume as of course, that whatever remuneration the government was
disposed to give, it would be right for me to receive. I should think
myself obliged to consider for myself; and without affecting a trifling
scrupulousness, I could not with integrity receive two thousand a year, if
I knew that I was handsomely remunerated by one. These principles of
conduct do not appear to lose their application in respect of fixed salaries
or perquisites that are attached to offices. If a man cannot uprightly
take two thousand pounds when he knows he is entitled to but one, it
cannot be made right by the circumstance that others have taken it before
him, or that all take it who accept the office. The income may be
exorbitantly disproportioned, not merely to the labour of the office, but
to the total services of the individual. Nor, I think, do these principles
lose their application, even when, as in this country, a sum is voted by
the legislature for the civil list, and when it is out of this voted sum that
the salaries' are paid. You say — the representatives of the people give
the individual the money. Very well, — yet even this may be true in -
theory rather than in fact. But who pretends that, when the votes for the
civil list are made in the House of Commons, its members actually con-
* It is not necessary that these services should have been personal. The widow or son of
a man who had been inadequately remunerated during his life may very properly accept a
competent pension from the state.
CHAP. 2.] INSURANCE. 117
sider whether the individuals to whom the money will be distributed are
in equity entitled to it or not? — The question is very simple at last, —
whether a person may virtuously accept the money of the public, without
having rendered proportionate services to the public ? There have been
examples of persons who have voluntarily declined to receive the whole
of the sums allotted to them by the government ; and when these sums
were manifestly disproportionate to the claims of the parties, or unrea
sonable when compared with the privations of the people, such sacrifices
approve themselves to the feelings and consciences of the public. We
feel that they are just and right ; and this feeling outweighs in authority
a hundred arguments by which men may attempt to defend themselves in
the contrary practice.
Those large salaries which are given by way of " supporting the dig
nity of public functionaries" are not 1 think reconcileable with propriety
nor dictated by necessity. At any rate, there must be some sorrowful
want of purity in political affairs, if an ambassador or a prime minister
is indebted for any part of his efficiency to these dignities and splendours.
If the necessity for them is not imaginary, it ought to be ; and it may be
doubted whether, even now, a minister of integrity who could not afford the
customary splendours of his office would not possess as much weight in
his own country and among other nations as if he were surrounded with
magnificence. Who feels disrespect towards the great officers of the
American government ? And yet their salaries are incomparably smaller
than those of some of the inferior ministers in Europe.
INSURANCE. It is very possible for a man to act dishonestly every day,
and yet never to defraud another of a shilling. A merchant who con
ducts his business partly or wholly with borrowed capital is not honest
if he endangers the loss of an amount of property which, if lost, would
disable him from paying his debts. He who possesses a thousand pounds
of his own, and borrows a thousand of some one else, cannot virtuously
speculate so extensively as that, if his prospects should be disappointed,
he would lose twelve hundred. The speculation is dishonest, whether it
succeeds or not : it is risking other men's property without their consent.
Under similar circumstances it is unjust not to ensure. Perhaps the
majority of unensured traders, if their houses and goods were burnt, would
be unable to pay their creditors. The injustice consists, not in the actual
loss which may be inflicted (for whether a fire happens or not, the injus
tice is the same), but in endangering the infliction of the loss. There are
but two ways in which, under such circumstances, the claims of rectitude
can be satisfied — one is by not endangering the property, and the other
by telling its actual owner that it will be endangered, and leaving him to
incur the risk or not as he pleases.
*' Those who hold the property of others are not warranted, on the
principles of justice, in neglecting to inform themselves from time to time
of the real situation of their affairs."* This enforces the doctrines
which we have delivered. It asserts that injustice attaches to not inves
tigating ; and this injustice is often real whether creditors are injured
or not.
During the seventeenth century, when religious persecution was very
active, some beautiful examples of integrity were offered by its victims.
It was common for officers to seize the property of conscientious and
* Official Documents of the Yearly Meeting of the Society of Friends : 1826.
118 IMPROVEMENTS ON ESTATES— SETTLEMENTS. [ESSAY II.
good men, and sometimes to plunder them with such relentless barbarity
as scarcely to leave them the common utensils of a kitchen. These
persons sometimes had the property of others on their premises ; and
when they heard that the officers were likely to make a seizure, indus
triously removed from their premises all property but their own. At one
period, a number of traders in the country who had made purchases in
the London markets found that their plunderers were likely to disable
them from paying for their purchases, and they requested the merchants
to take back, 'and the merchants did take back, their goods.
In passing, I would remark, that the readers of mere general history
only are very imperfectly acquainted with the extent to which persecu
tion on account of religion has been practised in these kingdoms, ages
since Protestantism became the religion of the state. A competent
acquaintance with this species of history is of incomparably greater
value than much of the matter with which historians are wont to fill their
pages.
IMPROVEMENTS ON ESTATES. There are some circumstances in which
the occupier of lands or houses, who has increased their value by erec
tions or other improvements, cannot in justice be compelled to pay for the
increased value if he purchases the property. A man purchases the
lease of an estate, and has reason to expect from the youth and health of
" the lives," that he may retain possession of it for thirty or forty years.
In consequence of this expectation, he makes many additions to the
buildings ; and by other modes of improvement considerably increases
the value of the estate. It however happens that in the course of two
or three years all the lives drop. The land-owner, when the person
applies to him for a new lease, demands payment for all the improve
ments. This I say is not just. It will be replied, that all parties knew
and voluntarily undertook the risk : so they did, and if the event had
approached to the ordinary average of such risks, the owner would
act rightly in demanding the increased value. But it does not ; and
this is the circumstance which would make an upright man decline
to avail himself of his advantages. Yet, if any one critically disputes
the "justice" of the demand, I give up the word, and say that it is not
considerate, and kind, and benevolent ; in a word, it is not Christian.
It is no light calamity upon such a tenant to be obliged so unexpectedly
to repurchase a lease ; and to add to this calamity a demand which the
common feelings of mankind would condemn cannot be the act of a good
man. Who doubts whether, within the last fourteen years, it has not
been the duty of many land-owners to return a portion of their rents ?
The duty is the same in one case as in the other ; and it is founded on
the same principles in both. To say that other persons would be willing
to pay the present value of the property, would not affect the question
of morality : because, to sell it to another for that value when the formei
tenant was desirous of repurchasing would not diminish the unkindness
to him.
SETTLEMENTS. It is not an unfrequent occurrence, when a merchant
or other person becomes insolvent, that the creditors unexpectedly find
the estate is chargeable with a large settlement on the wife. There is
a consideration connected with this which in a greater degree involves
integrity of character than perhaps is often supposed. Men in business
obtain credit from others in consequence of the opinions which others
form of their character and property. The latter, if it be not the greater
CHAP. 2.] HOUSES OF INFAMY. 119
foundation of credit, is a great one. A person lives then at the rate of
a thousand a year ; he maintains a respectable establishment, and diffuses
over all its parts indications of property. These appearances are
relied upon by other men : they think they may safely intrust him, and
they do intrust him, with goods or money ; until, when his insolvency is
suddenly announced, they are surprised and alarmed to find that five
hundred a year is settled on his wife. Now this person has induced
others to confide their property to him by holding out fallacious appear
ances. He has in reality deceived them ; and the deception is as real,
though it may not be as palpable, as if he had deluded them with verbal
falsehoods. He has been acting a continued untruth. Perhaps such a
man will say that he never denied that the greater part of his apparent
property was settled on his wife. This may be true ; but when his
neighbour came to him to lodge five or six hundred pounds in his hands ;
when he was conscious that this neighbour's confidence was founded upon
the belief that his apparent property was really his own ; when there
was reason to apprehend, that if his neighbour had known his actual cir
cumstances he would have hesitated in intrusting him with the money,
then he does really and practically deceive his neighbour, and it is not a
sufficient justification to say that he has uttered no untruth. The reader
will observe that the case is very different from that of a person who
conducts his business with borrowed money. This person must annually
pay the income of the money to the lender. He does not expend it on
his own establishment, and consequently does not hold out the same falla
cious appearances. Some profligate spendthrifts take a house, buy ele
gant furniture, and keep a handsome equipage, in order by these appear
ances to deceive and defraud traders. No man doubts whether these
persons act criminally. How then can he be innocent who knowingly
practises a deception similar in kind though varying in degree ?
HOUSES OF INFAMY. If it were not that a want of virtue is so com
mon among men, we should wonder at the coolness with which some
persons of decent reputation are content to let their houses to persons of
abandoned character, and to put periodically into their pockets the
profits of infamy. Sophisms may easily be invented to palliate the con
duct, but nothing can make it right. Such a landlord knows perfectly
to what purposes his house will be devoted, and knows that he shall
receive the wages, not perhaps of his own iniquity, but still the wages
of iniquity. He is almost a partaker with them in their sins. If I were
to sell a man arsenic or a pistol, knowing that the buyer wanted it to
commit murder, should I not be a bad man ? If I let a man a house,
knowing that the renter wants it for purposes of wickedness, am I an
innocent man ? — Not that it is to be affirmed that no one may receive ill-
gotten money. A grocer may sell a pound of sugar to a woman though
he knows she is upon the town. But if we cannot specify the point at
which a lawful degree of participation terminates, we can determine,
respecting some degrees of participation, that they are unlawful. To the
majority of such offenders against the moral law these arguments may
be urged in vain ; there are some of whom we may indulge greater
hope. Respectable public brewers are in the habit of purchasing beer
houses in order that they may supply the publicans with their porter.
Some of these houses are notoriously the resort of the most abandoned
of mankind ; the daily scenes of riot, and drunkenness, and of the most
filthy debauchery. Yet these houses are purchased by brewers, — per-
120 LITERARY PROPERTY— REWARDS. [ESSAY II.
haps there is a competition among them for the premises ; they put in
a tenant of their own, supply him with beer, and regularly receive the
profits of this excess of wickedness. Is there no such obligation as that
of abstaining even from the appearance of evil ? Is there no such thing
as guilt without a personal participation in it ? All pleas such as that, if
one man did not supply such a house another would, are vain subterfuges.
Upon such reasoning, you might rob a traveller on the road, if you knew
that at the next turning a footpad was waiting to plunder him if you did
not. Selling such houses to be occupied as before would be like selling
slaves because you thought it criminal to keep them in bondage. The
obligation to discountenance wickedness rests upon him who possesses
the power. " To him who knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him it
is sin." To retain our virtue may in such cases cost us something, but
he who values virtue at its worth will not think that he retains it at a
dear rate.
LITERARY PROPERTY. Upon similar grounds there are some of the
profits of the press which a good man cannot accept. There are some
periodical works and some newspapers from which, if he were offered
an annual income, he would feel himself bound to reject it. Suppose
there is a newspaper which is lucrative because it gratifies a vicious
taste for slander or indecency, — or suppose there is a magazine of which
the profits result, from the attraction of irreligious or licentious articles, —
I would not put into my pocket, every quarter of a year, the money which
was gained by vitiating mankind. In all such cases, there is one sort of
obligation which applies with great force, — the obligation not to dis
courage rectitude by our example. Upon this ground a man of virtue
would hesitate even to contribute an article to such a publication, lest
they who knew he was a contributor should think they had his example
to justify improprieties of their own.
REWARDS. A person loses his pocket-book containing fifty pounds,
and offers ten pounds to the finder if he will restore it. The finder
ought not to demand the reward. It implies surely some imputation upon
a man's integrity, when he accepts payment for being honest. For, for
what else is he paid ? If he retains the property he is manifestly fraudu
lent. To be paid for giving it up is to be paid for not committing
fraud. The loser offers the reward in order to overpower the temptation
to dishonesty. To accept the reward is therefore tacitly to acknowledge
that you would have been dishonest if it had not been offered. This cer
tainly is not maintaining an integrity that is " above suspicion." It will
be said that the reward is offered voluntarily. This, in proper language,
is not true. Two evils are presented to the loser, of which he is com
pelled to choose one. If men were honest, he would not offer the reward ;
he would make it known that he had lost his pocket-book, and the finder,
if a finder there were, would restore it. The offered ten pounds is a tax
which is imposed upon him by the want of uprightness in mankind, and
he who demands the money actively promotes the imposition. The very
word reward carries with it its own reprobation. As a reward, the man
of integrity would receive nothing. If the loser requested it, he might,
if he needed it, accept a donation ; but he would let it be understood that
he accepted a present, not that he received a debt.
CHAP. 3.] INEQUALITY OF PROPERTY. 121
Perhaps examples enough, or more than enough, have been accumu
lated to illustrate this class of obligations. Many appeared needful,
because it is a class which is deplorably neglected in practice. So strong
is the temptation to think that we may rightfully possess whatever the
law assigns to us, — so insinuating is the notion, upon subjects of prop
erty, that whatever the law does not punish we may rightfully do, that
there is little danger of supplying too many motives to habitual
discrimination of our duties, and to habitual purity of conduct. Let
the reader especially remember, that the examples which are offered
are not all of them selected on account of their individual import
ance, but rather as illustrations of the general principle. A man may
meet with a hundred circumstances in life to which none of these
examples are relevant ; but I think he will not have much difficulty in
estimating the principles which they illustrate. And this induces the
observation, that although several of these examples are taken from
British law or British customs, they do not, on that account, lose their
applicability where these laws and customs do not obtain. If this book
should ever be read in a foreign land, or if it should be read in this
land when public institutions or the tenor of men's conduct shall be
changed, the principles of its morality will, nevertheless, be applicable
to the affairs of life.
CHAPTER III.
INEQUALITY OF PROPERTY.
THAT many arid great evils result from that inequality of property
which exists in civilized countries is indicated by the many propositions
which have been made to diminish or destroy it. We want not indeed
such evidence ; for it is sufficiently manifest to every man who will look
round upon his neighbours. We join not with those who declaim against
all inequality of property : the real evil is not that it is unequal, but that
it is greatly unequal ; not that one man is richer than another, but that
one man is so rich as to be luxurious, or imperious, or profligate, and
that another is so poor as to be abject and depraved, as well as to be des
titute of the proper comforts of life.
There are two means by which the pernicious inequality of property
may be diminished ; by political institutions, and by the exertions of pri
vate men. Our present business is with the latter.
To a person who possesses and expends more than he needs, there
are two reasonable inducements to diminish its amount, — first, to benefit
others ; and next, to benefit his family and himself. The claims of be
nevolence towards others are often and earnestly urged upon the public,
and for that reason they will not be repeated here. Not that there is no
occasion to repeat the lesson, for it is very inadequately learned ; but that
it is of more consequence to exhibit obligations which are less frequently
enforced. To insist upon diminishing the amount of a man's property
for the sake of his family and himself, may present to some men new
ideas, and to some men the doctrine may be paradoxical.
Large possessions are in a great majority of instances injurious to the
122 ACCUMULATION OF WEALTH. [ESSAY II.
possessor, — that is to say, those who hold them are generally less excel
lent both as citizens and as men than those who do not. The truth ap
pears to be established by the concurrent judgment of mankind. Lord
Bacon says, " Certainly great riches have sold more men than they
have bought out. As baggage is to an army, so are riches to virtue. — It
hindereth the march, yea, and the care of it sometimes loseth or dis-
turbeth the victory." — " It is to be feared that the general tendency of
rank, and especially of riches, is to withdraw the heart from spiritual ex
ercises."* " A much looser system of morals commonly prevails in the
higher than in the middling and lower orders of society."! " The
middle rank contains most virtue and abilities.''^
" Wealth heaped on wealth nor truth nor safety buys,
The dangers gather as the treasures rise."§
" There is no greater calamity than that of leaving children an affluent
independence. — The worst examples in the society of Friends are gen
erally among the children of the rich."||
It was an observation of Voltaire's, that the English people were, like
their butts of beer, froth at top, dregs at bottom, — in the middle, excel
lent. The most rational, the wisest, the best portion of mankind belong
to that class who possess " neither poverty nor riches." Let the reader
look around him. Let him observe who are the persons that contribute
most to the moral and physical amelioration of mankind ; who they are
that practically and personally support our unnumbered institutions of
benevolence ; who they are that exhibit the worthiest examples of in
tellectual exertion; who they are to whom he would himself apply if he
needed to avail himself of a manly and discriminating judgment. That
they are the poor is not to be expected : we appeal to himself whether they
are the rich. Who then would make his son a rich man ? Who would
remove his child out of that station in society which is thus peculiarly
favourable to intellectual and moral excellence ?
If a man knows that wealth will in all probability be injurious to him
self and to his children, injurious too in the most important points, the
religious and moral character, it is manifestly a point of the soundest
wisdom and the truest kindness to decline to accumulate it. Upon this
subject, it is admirable to observe with what exactness the precepts of
Christianity are adapted to that conduct which the experience of life
recommends. " The care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches
choke the word :" — " choked with cares, arid riches, and pleasures of
this life, and bring no fruit to perfection :" — " How hardly shall they that
have riches enter into the kingdom of God !" — " they that will be rich fall
into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which
drown men in destruction and perdition." Not that riches necessarily
lead to these consequences, but that such is their tendency ; a tendency
so uniform and powerful that it is to be feared these are their very fre
quent results. Now this language of the Christian Scriptures does not
contain merely statements of fact, — it imposes duties ; and whatever
may be the precise mode of regarding those duties, one point is per
fectly clear ; — that he who sets no other limit to his possessions or
* More's Moral Sketches, 3d Edit. p. 446.
f Wilherforce : Pract. View. J Wollstonecraft : Rights of Women, c.4.
$ Johnson : Vanity of Human Wishes. H Clarkson : Portraiture.
CHAP. 3.] PROPER LIMITS OF ACCUMULATION. 123
accumulations than inability or indisposition to obtain more does not con
form to the will of God. Assuredly, if any specified thing is declared
by Christianity to be highly likely to obstruct our advancement in good
ness, and to endanger our final felicity, against that thing, whatever it be,
it is imperative upon us to guard with wakeful solicitude.
And therefore, without affirming that no circumstance can justify a
great accumulation of property, it may safely be concluded, that far the
greater number of those who do accumulate it do wrong : nor do I see
any reason to be deterred from ranking the distribution of a portion of
great wealth, or a refusal to accumulate it, among the imperative duties
which are imposed by the moral law. In truth, a man may almost dis
cover whether such conduct is obligatory, by referring to the motives
which induce him to acquire great property or to retain it. The motives
are generally impure ; the desire of splendour, or the ambition of emi
nence, or the love of personal indulgence. Are these motives fit to be
brought into competition with the probable welfare, the virtue, the use
fulness, and the happiness of his family and himself? Yet such is the
competition, and to such unworthy objects, duty, and reason, and affec
tion are sacrificed.
It will be said, a man should provide for his family, and make them, if
he can, independent. That he should provide for his family is true ;
that he should make them independent, at any rate that he should give
them an affluent independence, forms no part of his duty, and is fre
quently a violation of it. As it respects almost all men, he will best ap
prove himself a wise and a kind parent who leaves to his sons so much
only as may enable them, by moderate engagements, to enjoy the conve
niences and comforts of life ; and to his daughters a sufficiency to possess
similar comforts, but not a sufficiency to shine among the great, or to
mingle with the votaries of expensive dissipation. If any father prefers
other objects to the welfare and happiness of his children, — if wisdom
and kindness towards them are with him subordinate considerations, it
is not probable that he will listen to reasonings like these. But where
is the parent who dares to acknowledge this preference to his own
mind ?
It were idle to affect to specify any amount of property which a per
son ought not to exceed. The circumstances of one man may make
it reasonable that he should acquire or retain much more than another who
has fewer claims. Yet somewhat of a general rule may be suggested.
He who is accumulating should consider why he desires more. If it
really is, that he believes an addition will increase the welfare and use
fulness and virtue of his family, it is probable that further accumulation
may be right. If no such belief is sincerely entertained, it is more
than probable that it is wrong. He who already possesses affluence should
consider its actual existing effects. — If he employs a competent portion
of it in increasing the happiness of others, if it does not produce any
injurious effect upon his own mind, if it does not diminish or impair the
virtues of his children, if they are grateful for their privileges rather
than vain of their superiority, if they second his own endeavours to dif
fuse happiness around them, he may remain as he is. If such effects
are not produced, but instead of them others of an opposite tendency, he
certainly has too much. — Upon this serious subject let the Christian
parent be serious. If, as is proved by the experience of every day,
great property usually inflicts great injuries upon those who possess it,
124 EQUALITY OF PROVISION FOR CHILDREN. [ESSAY II.
what motive can induce a good man to lay it up for his children ? Wha*
motive will be his justification, if it tempts them from virtue?
When children are similarly situated with respect to their probable
wants, there seems no reason for preferring the elder to the younger, or
sons to daughters. Since the proper object of a parent in making a
division of his property is the comfort and welfare of his children, — if
this object is likely to be better secured by an equal than by any other
division, an equal division ought to be made. It is a common though
not a very reasonable opinion, that a son needs a larger portion than a
daughter. To be sure, if he is to live in greater affluence than she, he does.
But why should he ? There appears no motive in reason, and certainly
there is none in affection, for diminishing one child's comforts to increase
another's. A son too has greater opportunities of gain. A woman
almost never grows rich except by legacies or marriage ; so that, if her
father do not provide for her, it is probable that she will not be provided
for at all. As to marriage, the opportunity is frequently not offered to a
woman ; and a father, if he can, should so provide for his daughter as to
enable her, in single life, to live in a state of comfort not greatly inferior
co her brother's. The remark that the custom of preferring sons is general,
and therefore that when a couple marry the inequality is adjusted, applies
only to the case of those who do marry. The number of women who do not.
is great ; and a parent cannot foresee his daughter's lot. Besides, since
marriage is (and is reasonably) a great object to a woman, and is desira
ble both for women and for men, there appears a propriety in increasing
the probability of marriage by giving to women such property as shall
constitute an additional inducement to marriage in the men. I shall
hardly be suspected of recommending persons to " marry for money."
My meaning is this : — A young man possesses five hundred a year, and
lives on a corresponding scale. He is attached to a woman who has
but one hundred a year. This young man sees that if he marries, he
must reduce his scale of living ; and the consideration operates (I do not
say that it ought to operate) to deter him from marriage. But if the
young man possessed three hundred a year, and lived accordingly, and if
the object of his attachment possessed three hundred a year also, he
would not be prevented from marrying her by the fear of being obliged
to diminish his system of expenditure. Just complaints are made of
those half-concealed blandishments by which some women who need " a
settlement" endeavour to procure it by marriage. Those blandishments
would become more tempered with propriety, if one great motive was
taken away by the possession of a competence of their own.
An equal division of a father's property will be said to be incompatible
with the system of primogeniture, and almost incompatible with heredi
tary rank. These aie not subjects for the present Essay. Whatever
the reader may think of the practical value of these institutions, it is
manifest that far the greater number of those who have property to be
queath need not concern themselves with either : they may, in their own
practice, contribute to diminish the general and the particular evils of
unequal property. With respect to their own families, the result can
hardly fail to be good. It is probable that as men advance in intellec
tual, and especially in moral excellence, the desire of " keeping up the
family" will become less and less an object of solicitude. That desire
is not, in its ordinary character, recommended by any considerations
which are obviously deducible from virtue or from reason. It is an affair
CHAP. 4.] LITIGATION 125
of vanity.; and vanity, like other weaknesses and evils, may be expected
to diminish as sound habits of judgment prevail in the world.
Perhaps it is remarkable, that the obligation not to accumulate great
property for ourselves or our children is so little enforced by the writers
on morality. None will dispute that such accumulation is both unwise
and unkind. Every one acknowledges too that the general evils of the
existing inequality of property are enormously great : yet how few insist
upon those means by which, more than by any other private means, these
evils may be diminished ! If all men declined to retain, or refrained
from acquiring, more than is likely to be beneficial to their families and
themselves, the pernicious inequality of property would quickly be
diminished or destroyed. There is a motive upon the individual to do this
which some public reformations do not offer. He who contributes
almost nothing to diminish the general mischiefs of extreme poverty and
extreme wealth, may yet do so much benefit to his own connexions as
shall greatly overpay him for the sacrifice of vanity or inclination. Per
haps it may be said that there is a claim too of justice. The wealth of a
nation is a sort of common stock, of which the accumulations of one
man are usually made at the expense of others. A man who has ac
quired a reasonable sufficiency, and who nevertheless retains his busi
ness to acquire more than a sufficiency, practises a sort of injustice
towards another who needs his means of gain. There are always many
who cannot enjoy the comforts of life, because others are improperly
occupying the means by which those comforts are to be obtained. Is it the
part of a Christian to do this ? — even abating the consideration that ho
is injuring himself by withholding comforts from another.
CHAPTER IV.
LITIGATION. ARBITRATION.
IN the third Essay,* some inquiry will be attempted, as to whether
justice may not often be administered between contending parties, or to
public offenders, by some species of arbitration rather than by law ,
whether a gradual substitution of equity for fixed rules of decision is not
congruous alike with philosophy and morals. The present chapter, how
ever, and that which succeeds it, proceed upon the supposition that the
administration of justice continues in its present state.
The question for an individual, when he has some cause of dispute
with another respecting property or rights is, By what means ought I to
endeavour to adjust it ? Three modes of adjustment may be supposed
to be offered : private arrangement with the other party, — reference to
impartial men, — and law. Private adjustment is the best mode ; arbi
tration is good ; law is good only when it is the sole alternative.
The litigiousness of some of the early Christians at Corinth gave
occasion to the energetic expostulation, " Dare any of you, having
a matter against another, go to law before the unjust, and not before the
* Chap. x.
126 PRACTICE OF EARLY CHRISTIANS. [ESSAY II.
saints ? Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world ? And if
the world shall be judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest
matters ? Know ye not that we shall judge angels ? How much more
things that pertain to this life ? If, then, ye have judgments of things
pertaining to this life, set them to judge who are least esteemed in the
church. I speak to your shame. Is it so that there is not a wise man
among you? No, not one that shall be able to judge between his breth
ren ? But brother goeth to law with brother, and that before the unbe
lievers. Now therefore there is utterly a fault among you, because ye
go to law one with another. Why do ye not rather take \vrong ? Why
do ye not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded ?"* Upon this, one
observation is especially to be remembered: that a great part of its pointed-
ness of reprehension is directed, not so much to litigation, as to litiga
tion before pagans. " Brother goeth to law with brother, and that before
the unbelievers." The impropriety of exposing the disagreements of
Christians in pagan courts was manifest and great. They who had
rejected the dominant religion, for a religion of which one peculiar charac
teristic was good-will and unanimity, were especially called upon to
exhibit in their conduct an illustration of its purer principles. Few things,
not grossly vicious, would bring upon Christians and upon Christianity
itself so much reproach as a litigiousness which could not or would not
find arbitration among themselves. The advice of the apostle appears
to have been acted upon ; " The primitive church, which was always
zealous to reconcile the brethren, and to procure pardon for the offender
from the person offended, did ordain, according to the Epistle of St. Paul
to the Corinthians, that the saints or Christians should not maintain a
process of law one against the other at the bar or tribunals of infidels. "f
The Christian of the present day is differently circumstanced, because,
though he appeals to the law, he does not appeal to pagan judges ; and
therefore so much of the apostle's censure as was occasioned by the
paganism of the courts does not apply to us.
To this indeed there is an exception founded upon analogy. If at the
commencement of the Reformation, two of the Reformers had carried a
dispute respecting property before Romish courts, they would have come
under some portion of that reprobation which was addressed to the Cor
inthians. Certainly, when persons profess such a love for religious
purity and excellence that they publicly withdraw from the general religion
of a people, there ought to be so much purity and excellence among
them, that it would be needless to have recourse to those from whom
they had separated, to adjust their disputes. The Catholic of those days
might reasonably have turned upon such reformers, and said, " Is it
so that there is not a wise man among you, no, not one that shall be able
to judge between his brethren ?" And if, indeed, no such wise man was
to be found, it might safely be concluded that their reformation was an
empty name. — For the same reasons, those who, in the present times,
think it right to withdraw from other Protestant churches in order to main
tain sounder doctrines or purer practice, cast reproach upon their own
community if they cannot settle their disputes among themselves. Pre
tensions to soundness and purity are of little avail if they do not enable
those who make them to repose in one another such confidence as this.
* 1 Cor. vi. f Rycaut's Lives of the Popes, fol. 2d ed. 1688. Introd. p. 2.
GHAr.4.] ARBITRATION— EVILS OF LITIGATION. 127
Were I a Wesleyan or a Baptist, I should think it discreditable to go to
law with one of my own brotherhood.
But though the apostle's prohibition of going to law appears to have
been founded upon the paganism of the courts, his language evidently
conveys disapprobation, generally, of appeals to the law. He insists
upon the propriety of adjusting disputes by arbitration. Christians, he
says, ought not to be unworthy to judge the smallest matters ; and so
emphatically does he insist upon the truth that their religion ought to
capacitate them to act as arbitrators, that he intimates that even a small
advance in Christian excellence is sufficient for such a purpose as this :
— "Set them to judge who are least esteemed in the church." It will
perhaps be acknowledged that when Christianity shall possess its proper
influence over us, there will be little reason to recur, for adjustment of
our disagreements, to fixed rules of law. And though this influence is
so far short of universal prevalence, who cannot find among those to
whom he may have access some who are capable of deciding rightly
and justly ? The state of that Christian country must indeed be bad, if
it contains not, even in every little district, one that is able to judge
between his brethren.
Nevertheless, there are cases in which the Christian may properly
appeal to the law. He may have an antagonist who can in no other
manner be induced to be just or to act aright. Under some such circum
stances Paul himself pursued a similar course : " I appeal unto Caesar." —
" Is it lawful for you to scourge a man that is a Roman, and uncon-
demned ?" And when he had been illegally taken into custody, he availed
himself of his legal privileges, and made the magistrates " come them
selves and fetch him out." There are, besides, in the present condition
of jurisprudence, some cases in which the rule of justice depends upon
the rule of law, — so that a thing is just or not just according as the law
determines. In such cases neither party, however well disposed, maybe
able distinctly to tell what justice requires until the law informs them.
Even then, however, there are better means of procedure than by prose
cuting suits. The parties may obtain " opinions."
Besides these considerations there are others which powerfully recom
mend arbitration in preference to law. The evils of litigation, from
which arbitration is in a great degree exempt, are great.
Expense is an important item. A reasonable man desires of course
to obtain justice as inexpensively as he can; and the great cost of
obtaining it in courts of law is a powerful reason for preferring arbi
tration. .-•*.•;
Legal Injustice. He who desires that justice should be dispensed
between him and another should sufficiently bear in mind how much
injustice is inflicted by the law. We have seen in some of the pre
ceding chapters that law is often very wide of equity ; and he who desires
to secure himself from an inequitable decision possesses a powerful motive
to prefer arbitration. The technicalities of the law and the artifices of
lawyers are almost innumerable. Sometimes, when a party thinks he is
on the eve of obtaining a just verdict, he is suddenly disappointed, and his
cause is lost by some technical defect, — the oniission of a word or the
misspelling of a name ; matters which in no degree affect the validity of
his claims. If the only advantage which arbitration offers to disagreeing
parties was exemption from these deplorable evils, it would be a sub
stantial and sufficient argument in its favour. There is no reason to doubt
128 MORALITY OF LEGAL PRACTICE. [ESSAY II.
that justice would generally be administered by a reference to two or
three upright and disinterested men. When facts are laid before such
persons, they are seldom at a loss to decide what justice requires. Its
principles are not so critical or remote as usually to require much labour
of research to discover what they dictate. It might be concluded, there
fore, even if experience did not confirm it, that an arbitration, if it did
not decide absolutely aright, would at least come to as just a decision as
can be attained by human means. But experience does confirm the con
clusion. It is known that the Society of Friends never permits its mem
bers to carry disagreements with one another before courts of law. All,
if they continue in the society, must submit to arbitration. And what is
the consequence ? They find, practically,, that arbitration is the best
mode ; that justice is in fact administered by it, administered more satis
factorily, and with fewer exceptions, than in legal courts. No one pre
tends to dispute this. Indeed, if it were disputable, it may be presumed
that this community would abandon the practice. They adhere to it
because it is the most Christian practice and the best.
Inquietude. The expense, the injustice, the delays and vexations
which are attendant upon lawsuits, bring altogether a degree of inquietude
upon the mind which greatly deducts from the enjoyment of life, and
from the capacity to attend with composure to other and perhaps more
important concerns. If to this we add the heart-burnings and ill-will
which suits frequently occasion, a considerable sum of evil is in this
respect presented to us : a sum of evil, be it remembered, from which
arbitration is in a great degree exempt.
Upon the whole, arbitration is recommended by such various and pow
erful arguments, that when it is proposed by one of two contending
parties and objected to by the other, there is reason to presume that
with that other justice is not the paramount object of desire.
CHAPTER V.
THE MORALITY OF LEGAL PRACTICE.
IF it should be asked why, in a book of general morality, the writer
selects for observation the practice of a particular profession, the answer
is simply this, that the practice of this particular JPIPJgjSjsiori peculiarly
needs it. It peculiarly needs to be 'brought into juxtaposition with sound
principles of morality. Besides this, an honest comparison of the prac-
tice with the principles will afford useful illustration of the requisitions
of virtue.
That public opinion pronounces that there is, in the ordinary character
j)f legal practice, much that is not reconcileable with rectitude, can -ucid"
no proof. The public opinion could scarcely become general unless it
were founded upon truth, and that it is general is evinced by the language
of all ranks of men ; from that of him who writes a treatise of morality,
to that of him who familiarly uses a censorious proverb. It may rea
sonably be concluded that when the professional conduct of a particular
eot of men is characterized peculiarly with sacrifices of rectitude, there
CHAP. 5.] COMPLEXITY OF LAW. 129
must be some general and peculiar cause. There appears nothing in the
profession, as such, to produce this effect, — nothing in taking a part in
the administration of justice which necessarily leads men away from the
regard to justice. How then are we to account for the fact as it exists,
or where shall we primarily lay the censure ? Is it the fault of the men
or of the institutions ; of the lawyers or of the law ? Doubtless the \
original fault is in the law.
This lauuV~2S it TespTecTs our own country, and I suppose every other,
is of two kinds ; one is necessary, and one accidental. First : Wherever
fixed rules of deciding controversies between man and man, or fixeo^ruTesT
Bf"l3mlnlst~ering punishment to public offenders, are established, — there
it is inevitable that equity will sometimes be sacrificed to rules." These
rules are laws, that is, they must be uniformly, anchfbr-lircririost part
literally, applied ; and this literal application (as we have already had
manifold occasion to show) is sometimes productive of practical injus
tice. Since then the legal profession employ themselves in enforcing this
literal application, — since they habitually exert themselves to do this
with little regard to the equity of the result, they cannot fail to deserve
and to obtain the character of a profession that sacrifices rectitude. I
know not that this is evitable so long as numerous and fixed rules are
adopted in the administration of justice.
The second cause of the evil, as it results from the law itself, is in
its extreme complication, — in the needless multiplicity of its forms, in
the inextricable intricacy of its whole structure. This, which is probably
by far the most efficient cause of the want of morality in legal practice,
I call gratuitous. It is not necessary to law that it should be so extremely
complicated. This the public are beginning more and more to see and
to assert. Simplification has indeed been in some small degree effected
by recent acts of the legislature ; and this is a sufficient evidence that it
was needed. But whether needed or not, the. temptation which it casts
in the way of professional virtue is excessively great. A man takes a
cause — a morally bad cause we will suppose — to a barrister. The bar
rister searches his memory or his books for some one or more among
the multiplicity of legal technicalities by which success may be obtained
for his client. He finds them, urges them in court, shows that the opposing
client cannot legally substantiate his claim, and thus inflicts upon him
practical injustice. This is primarily the fault of the law. Take away
or diminish this encumbering load of technicalities, and you take away,
in the same proportion, the opportunity for the profession to sacrifice
equity to forms, and by consequence diminish the immorality of its prac
tice. — There can be no efficient reform among lawyers without a reform
of the law.
But while thus the original cause of the sacrifice of virtue among legaJ
men is to be sought in legal institutions, it cannot be doubted that they
are themselves chargeable with greatly adding to the evils which these
institutions occasion. This is just what, in the present state of human
virtue, we might expect. Lawyers familiarize to their minds the notion,
that whatever is legally right is right ; and when they have once habituated
themselves to sacrifice the manifest dictates of equity to law, where shall
they stop ? If a material informality in an instrument is to them a suffi
cient justification of a sacrifice of these dictates, they will soon sacrifice
them because a word has been misspelt by an attorney's clerk. When
they have gone thus far, they will go further. The practice of disregard-
6 I
130 DEFENCES OF LEGAL PRACTICE. [ESSAY II.
ing rectitude in courts of justice will become habitual. Thevjyill go
onward, from insisting upon legal technicalities to an endeavour to per
vert the law, then to the giving a false colouring tojfacts, and thenonwacd
and still onward until witnesses are abashed and confounded, until juries
are misled by impassioned appeals to their feelings, until deliberate untruths^
are solemnly averred, until, in a word, all the pitiable and degrading
spectacles are exhibited which are now exhibited in legal practice.
But when we say that the original cause of this unhappy system is to
be found in the law itself, is it tantamount to a justification of the system \
No. If it were, it would be sufficient to justify any departure from recti-
titude ; it would be sufficient to justify any crime, to be able to show that
the perpetrator possessed strong temptation. Strong temptation is un
doubtedly placed before the legal practitioner. This should abate our
censure, but it should not cause us to be silent.
We affirm that a lawyer cannot morally enforce the application of legal
rules without regard to the claims of equity in the particular case.
If it has been seen in the preceding chapters that morality is paramount
to law ; if it has been seen that there are many instances iifwfiicli private
'persons are morally obliged to forego their legal pretensions, then it is
equally clear that a lawyer is obliged to hold morality as paramount to
law in his own practice. If one man may not urge an unjust legal pre
tension, another may not assist him in urging it. No man, it may be hoped,
will say that it is the lawyer's only business to apply the law. Men
cannot so cheaply exempt themselves from the obligations of morality
Yet here the question is really suspended ; for if the business of the pro
fession does not justify a disregard of morality, it is not capable of justi
fication. Suspended ! It is lamentable that such a question can exist.
For to what does the alternative lead us ? Is a man when he undertakes
a client's business at liberty to advance his interests by every method,
good or bad, which the law will not punish? If he is, there is an end of
morality. If he is not, something must limit and restrict him ; and that
something is the moral law.
Of every custom, however indefensible, some advocates offer them
selves ; and some accordingly have attempted to justify the practice of
the bar.* Of that particular item in the practice which consists in utter
ing untruths in order to serve a client, Dr. Paley has been the defender.
" There are falsehoods," says he, " which are not criminal ; as where no
one is deceived, which is the case with an advocate in asserting the jus
tice, or his belief of the justice, of his client's cause." It is plain that in
support of this position one argument, and only one, can be urged, and
that one has been selected : " No confidence is destroyed, because none
was reposed ; no promise to speak the truth is violated, because none
was given or understood to be given."! The defence is not very credit
able, even if it were valid ; it defends men from the imputation of false
hood, because their falsehoods are so habitual that no one gives them
credit !
But the defence is not valid. Of this the reader may satisfy himself
by considering why, if no one ever believes what advocates say, they
continue to speak. They would not, year after year, persist in uttering
untruths in our courts, without attaining an object, and knowing that they
* I speak of the bar because that branch of the profession offers the most convenient illus
tration of the subject. The reasonings will generally apply to other branches
f Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 15.
CHAP. 5.] PROFESSIONAL UNTRUTHS. 131
would not attain it. If no one ever in fact believed them, they would
cease to asseverate. They do not love falsehood for its own sake, and utter
it gratuitously and for nothing. The custom itself, therefore, disproves
the argument that is brought to defend it. Whenever that defence
becomes valid, — whenever it is really true that " no confidence is reposed"
in advocates, they will cease to use falsehood, for it will have lost its
motive. But the real practice is to mingle falsehood and truth together,
and so to involve the one with the other that the jury cannot easily sepa
rate them. The jury know that some of the pleader's statements are true,
and these they believe. Now he makes other statements with the same
deliberate emphasis ; and how shall the jury know whether these are false
or true ? How shall they discover the point at which they shall begin
to " repose no confidence ?" Knowing that a part is true, they cannot
always know that another part is not true. That it is the pleader's design
to persuade them of the truth of all he affirms is manifest. Suppose an
advocate when he rose should say, " Gentlemen, I am now going to speak
the truth ;" and after narrating the facts of the case, should say, " Gen
tlemen, I am now going to address you with fictions." Why would not
an advocate do this ? Because then no confidence would be reposed,
which is the same thing as to say that he pursues his present plan because
some confidence is reposed ; and this decides the question. The decision
should not be concealed, — that the advocate who employs untruths in his
pleadings does really and most strictly lie.
And even if no one ever did believe an advocate, his false declarations
would still be lies, because he always professes to speak the truth. This
indeed is true upon the archdeacon's own showing ; for he says, " Who
ever seriously addresses his discourse to another tacitly promises to
speak the truth." The case is very different from others which he pro
poses as parallel, — " parables, fables, jests." In these the speaker does
not profess to state facts . But the pleader does profess to state facts.
He intends and endeavours to mislead. His untruths therefore are lies
to him, whether they are believed or not ; just as, in vulgar life, a man
whose falsehoods are so notorious that no one gives him credit, is not
the less a liar than if he were believed.
From one sort of legal falsehoods results one peculiar mischief, a mis
chief arising primarily out of an unhappy rule of law, but which is not
on that account morally justifiable. " Decision is commanded by plead
ings as by evidence, and that also to a vast extent, and with a degree of
certainty refused to evidence. Decision is produced by pleadings as if
they were true, when they are known and acknowledged to be false:
because they act as evidence, and as true evidence, in all cases where the
opposed party cannot follow them by counter declarations, — a conse
quence whioh may and does result from poverty and other causes."*
This is deplorable indeed. To employ false pleadings is sufficiently
unjustifiable ; but to employ them in order that a poor man, or that any man,
may be debarred of his rights, is abominable. But why do we say that
this peculiarly is abominable ? For to what purpose is any falsehood urged
at the bar but to impede or prevent the administration of justice between
man and man ? I make no pretensions to legal knowledge. Some false
pleadings are legally " necessary," in order to give formality to a pro
ceeding. In these cases the evil is attributable in a great degree to the
* West. Rev. No. 9.
12
132 DEFENCES OF LEGAL PRACTICE. [ESSAY II.
law itself, — though I presume the law is founded upon custom, which
custom was introduced by lawyers. The evil, therefore, and the guilt
lie at the door of the system of legal practice, although they may not
all lie at the doors of existing practitioners.*
Gisborne is another defender of legal practice, and assumes a wider
ground of justification. " The standard," says he, "to which the advQ;
* cate refers the cause of his client is not the law of reason nor the law
•of God, but the law of the land. His peculiar and proper object is not
to prove the side of the question wrncTfTie mamTains morally~nght, but
legally right. The law offers its protection only on certain preliminary
conditions ; it refuses to take cognizance of injuries, or to enforce redress,
unless the one be proved in the specific manner and the other claimed in
the precise form which it prescribes ; and consequently, whatever be the
pleader's opinion of his cause, he is guilty of no breach of truth and jus
tice in defeating the pretensions of the persons whom he opposes, by
evincing that they have not made good the terms on which alone they
• could be legally entitled, on which alone they could suppose themselves
entitled, to success."! There is something specious in this reasoning,
i but what is its amount ? — that if the laws of a country proceed upon
.''such and such maxims, they exempt us from the authority of the laws of
- God. We arrive at this often-refuted doctrine at last. Either the acts
of a legislature may suspend the obligations of morality or they may not.
If they may, there is an end of that morality which is founded upon the
Divine will : if they may not, the argument of Gisborne is a fallacy. —
But in truth he himself shows its fallaciousness : he says, " If ajcaa&e.
should present itself of an aspect so dark as to leave the ao*vocaj^ no
reasonable doubt of its being founded in iniquity or baseness, or tft-JHSlife-
extremely strong suspicions of its evil nature and tendency, he is bound
in the sight of God to refuse all connexion with the business." Why is
he thus bound to refuse ? Because he will otherwise violate the moral law :
and this is the very reason why he is bound in other cases. Observe too
the inconsistency : first we are told that whatever be the pleader's
opinion of a cause, " he is guilty of no breach of truth and justice" in
advocating it ; and afterward, that if the cause is of an " evil nature and
tendency" he may not advocate it ! That such reasoning does not prove
what it is designed to prove is evident ; but it proves something else, — that
the practice cannot be defended. Such reasoning would not be advanced
if better could be found. Let us not however seem to avail ourselves of
a writer's words without reference to his meaning. The meaning in the
present instance is clearly this, — that a pleader, generally, may undertake
a vicious cause ; but that if it be very vicious, he must refrain. You
may abet an act of a certain shade of iniquity, but not if it be of a cer
tain shade deeper : you may violate the moral law to a certain extent, but
not to every extent. To him who would recommend rectitude in its purity,
few reasonings are more satisfactory than such as these. They prove the
truth which they assail, by evincing that it cannot be disproved.
Dr. Johnson tried a shorter course : " You do not know a cause to be
* Some of these legal falsehoods are ridiculous to the last degree. A horse is sent to a
farrier to be shod. Unhappily, and to the great regret of the farrier, his man accidentally
lames the horse. What then says the legal form ? That the farrier faithfully promised to
shoe the horse properly ; but that " he, not regarding his said promise and undertaking, but
contriving and fraudulently intending, craftily, and subtilely to deceive and defraud the said
plaintiff, did not nor would shoe the said horse in a skilful, careful, and proper manner,"
&c.— See the form, 2 Chitty on Pleading, p. 154.
f Duties of Men. The Legal Profession.
CHAP 5.] EFFECTS OF LEGAL PRACTICE— SEDUCTION. 1&&
good or bad till the judge determines it. An argument that does not con
vince you may convince the judge to whom you urge it ; and if it does
convince him, why then he is right and you are wrong." This is satis
factory. It is always satisfactory to perceive that a powerful intellect
can find nothing but idle sophistry to urge against the obligations of vir
tue. One other argument is this : Eminent barristers, it is said, should
not be too scrupulous, because clients might fear their causes would be
rejected by virtuous pleaders, and might therefore go to "needy and
unprincipled chicaners." Why, if their causes were good, virtuous
pleaders would undertake them ; and if they were bad, it matters not how
soon they were discountenanced. In a right state of things, the very
circumstance that only an " unprincipled chicaner" would undertake a
particular cause wouid go far towards procuring a verdict against it.
Besides, it is a very loose morality that recommends good men to do
improper things lest they should be done by the bad.
Seeing therefore that no tolerable defence can be adduced of the
ordinary legal practice, let us consider for a moment what are its prac
tical results.
A civil action is brought into court, and evidence has been heard which
satisfies every man that the plaintiff is entitled in justice to a verdict.
It is, on the part of the defendant, a clear case of dishonesty. Sud
denly, the pleader discovers that there is some verbal flaw in a docu
ment, some technical irregularity in the proceedings, — and the plaintiff
loses his cause. The public are disappointed in their expectations of
justice ; the jury and the court are grieved ; and the uilhappy sufferer
retires, injured and wronged — without redress or hope of redress. Can
this be right? Can it be sufficient to justify a man in this conduct, to
urge that such things are his business, — the means by which he obtains
his living? The same excuse would justify a corsair, or a troop of
Arabian banditti which plunders the caravan. Yet indefensible, immoral
as this conduct is, it is the every-day practice of the profession ; and
the amount of injustice which is inflicted by this practice is enormous.
The plea that such are the rules of the law is not admissible. What
ever utility we may be disposed to allow to the uniform application of
the law, it will not justify such conduct as this. The integrity of the
iaw would not have been violated, though the pleader had not pointed out
the misspelling, for example, of a word. For a judge to refuse to allow
the law to take its course after the mistake has been urged is one thing :
for a pleader to detect and to urge it is another. The judge may not be
able to regard the equity of the case without sacrificing the uniform
operation of the law. But if the inadvertency is not pointed out, that
uniform operation is perfect though equity be awarded. There is no
excuse for thus inflicting injustice. It is an act of pure gratuitous mis
chief ; an act not required by law, an act condemned by morality, an act
possessing no apology but that the agent is tempted by the gains of his
profession.
An unhappy father seeks, in a court of justice, some redress for the
misery which a seducer has inflicted upon his family ; a redress which,
if he were successful, is deplorably inadequate, both as a recompense to
the sufferers and as a punishment to the criminal. The case is established,
and it is manifest that equity and the public good require exemplary
damages. What then does the pleader do 1 He stands up and employs
everv contrivance to prevent the jury from awarding these damages. He
134 THEFT— TECHNICAL NICETIES. [ESSAY II.
eloquently endeavours to persuade them that the act involved little guilt ,
casts undeserved imputations upon the immediate sufferer and upon her
family ; Jests, and banters, and sneers, about all the evidence of the case ;
imputes Dad motives (without truth or with it) to the prosecutor; expa
tiates upon the little property (whether it be little or much) which the
seducer possesses : by these and by such means he labours to prevent thi»
injured fathei from obtaining any redress, to secure the criminal from all
punishment, and to encourage in other men the crime itself. Compas
sion, justice, morality, the public good, every thing is sacrificed — to
what ? To that which, upon such a subject, it were a shame to mention.
In the criminal courts, the same conduct is practised, and with the
same indefe~nsibHItyr~ Can it be necessary, or ought it to be necessary,
to insist upon the proposition, — " If it be right that offenders should be
punished, it is not right to make them pass with impunity." If a police
officer has seized a thief and carried him to prison, every one knows that
it would be vicious in me to effect his escape. Yet this is the every-day
practice of the profession. It is their regular and constant endeavour to
prevent justice from being administered to offenders. Is it a sufficient
justification of preventing the execution of justice, of preventing that
which every good citizen is desirous of promoting, — to say that a man is
an advocate by profession? Is the circumstance of belonging to the
legal profession a good reason for disregarding those duties which are
obligatory upon every other man '? He who wards off punishment from
swindlers and robbers, and sends them among the public upon the work
of fraud and plunder again, surely deserves worse of his country tljaji
many a hungry man who filches a loaf or a trinket from a stall. — As to
employing legal artifices or the tactics of declamation in order to
obtain the conviction of a prisoner whom there is reason to believe
to be innocent ; or as to endeavouring to inflict upon him a punishment
greater than his deserts, the wickedness is so palpable that it is won
derful that even the power of custom protects it from the reprobation of
the world.
In Scotland, where the criminal process is in some respects superior
to ours, the proportion of those prisoners who escape punishment on
account of "technical niceties" is very great. " Of the persons
acquitted in our courts, at least one-half escape from technical niceties,
or rules of evidence which give advantage to the prisoner, with which,
in the other part of the island, they are wholly unacquainted."* Is
not this a great public evil 1 And if we charge that evil originally upon
the law, is it warrantable, is it moral, in the advocate actively to increase
and extend it ?
The plea that it is of consequence that law should be uniformly admin
istered does not suffice to justify the pleader in criminal any more than
in civil courts. « A thief was caught coming out of a house in High
bury-terrace, with a watch he had stolen therein upon him. He was found
guilty by the jury upon the clearest evidence of the theft ; but his counsel
having discovered that he was charged in the indictment with having
stolen a watch the property of the owner of the house, whereas the
watch really belonged to his daughter, the prisoner got clear off."f The
pretext of the value of a uniform operation of the law will not avail
* Remarks on the Administration of Criminal Justice in Scotland, &&
t West. Rev. No. 8, Art. 4.
CHAP. I.] PECULATION— PLEADING. 135
here. Suppose the counsel, though he did discover the watch was the
daughter's, had not insisted upon the inaccuracy, no evil would have
ensued. The integrity of the law would not have been violated. The
act of a counsel therefore in such a case is simply and only a defeat of
public justice, an injury to the state, an encouragement to thieves ; and
surely there is no reason, either in morals or in common sense, why
any particular class of men should be privileged thus to injure the
community.
The wife of a respectable tradesman in the town in which I live was
left a widow with eight or ten children. She employed a confiden
tial person to assist in conducting the business. The business was
flourishing ; and yet at the end of every year she was surprised and
afllicted to find that her profits were unaccountably small At length this
confidential person was suspected of peculation. Money was marked
and placed as usual under his care. It was soon missed, and found upon
his person ; and when the police searched his house, they found in his
possession, methodically stowed away, five or six thousand pounds, the
accumulated plunder of years! This cruel and atrocious robber found no
difficulty in obtaining advocates, who employed every artifice of defence,
who had recourse to every technicality of law, to screen him from pun
ishment, and to secure for him the quiet possession of his plunder. They
found in the indictment some word, of which the ordinary and the legal
acceptation were different ; and the indictment was quashed ! Happily,
another was proof against the casuistry, and the criminal was found
guilty.
Will it be said that pleaders are not supposed to know, till the verdict is
proiioii i.-cd, whether a prisoner is guilty or not? If this were true it
would not avail as a justification ; but in ronlity it is only a subterfuge.
In this very case, after the verdict had been pronounced, after the pris
oner's guilt had been ascertained, a new trial was obtained ; not on ac
count of any doubt in the evidence, — that was unequivocal, — but on ac
count of some irregularity in passing sentence. And now the same con
duct was repeated. Knowing that the prisoner was guilty, advocates
still exerted their talents and eloquence to procure impunity for him, nay
to reward him at the expense of public duty and of private justice.
They did not succeed : the plunderer was transported ; but their want
of success does not diminish the impropriety, the immorality, of their
endeavours. If, by the trickery of law, this man had obtained an acquittal,
what would have been the consequence ? Not merely that he would have
possessed undisturbed his plundered thousands ; not merely that he
might have laughed at the family whose money he was spending ; but
that a hundred or a thousand other shopmen, taking confidence from his
success and his impunity, might enter upon a similar course of treachery
and fraud. They might think that if the hour of detection should arrive,
nothing was wanting but a sagacious advocate to protect them from
punishment and to secure their spoil. Will any man then say, as an
excuse for the legal practice, that it is " usual," " customary," the " busi
ness of the profession?" It is preposterous.*
* Some obstacles in the way of this mode of defeating the ends of justice have been hap
pily interposed by the admirable exertions of the late secretary of state for the home depart
ment. Still such cases are applicable as illustrations of what the duties of the profession
are ; and, unfortunately, opportunities in abundance remain for sacrificing the duties ox the
profession to its " business." Here, without any advertence to political opinion, it may be
136 PLEADING. [ESSAY II.
It really is a dreadful consideration, that a body of men, respectable
in the various relationships of life, should make, in consequence of the
vicious maxims of a profession, these deplorable sacrifices of rectitude.
To a writer upon such a subject, it is difficult to speak with that plain
ness which morality requires, without seeming to speak illiberally of men.
But it is not a question of liberality, but of morals. When a barrister
arrives at an assize town on the circuit, and tacitly publishes that (abating
^ ,\ a few, and only a few, cases) he is willing to take the brief of any
client ; that he is ready to employ his abilities, his ingenuity, in proving
J that any given cause is good, or that it is bad \ and when, having gone
before a jury, he urges the side on which he happens to have been
employed, with all the earnestness of seeming integrity and truth, and
bands all the faculties which God has given him in promotion of its suc
cess , — when we see all this, and remember that it was the toss of a
die whether he should have done exactly the contrary, I think that no
expression characterizes the procedure but that of intellectual and moral
prostitution. In any other place than a court of justice, every one would
say that it was prostitution : a court of justice cannot make it less.
Perhaps the reader has heard of the pleader who, by some accident,
mistook the side on which he was to argue, and earnestly contended for
the opponent's cause. His distressed client at length conveyed an inti
mation of his mistake, and he, with forensic dexterity, told the jury that
hitherto he had only been anticipating the arguments of the opposing
counsel, and that now he would proceed to show they were fallacious.
If the reader should imagine there is peculiar indecency in this, his sen
timent would be founded upon habit rather than upon reason. There is,
really, very little difference between contending for both sides of the
same cause, and contending for either side as the earliest retainer mav
decide. I lately read the report of a trial in which retainers from both
parties had been sent to a counsel, and when the cause was brought into
court, it was still undecided for whom he should appear. The scale
was turned by the judgment of another counsel, and the pleader instantly
appeared on behalf of the client to whom his brother had allotted him.
— From the mistake which is mentioned at the head of this paragraph,
let clients take a beneficial hint. I suggest to them, if their opponent
has engaged the ablest counsel, to engage him also themselves. The
arrangement might easily be managed, and would be attended with
manifest advantages : clients would be sure of arraying against each
other equal abilities ; justice would be promoted by preventing the
triumph of the more skilful pleader over the less ; and the minds of juries
might more quietly weigh the conflicting arguments, when they were all
proved and all refuted by one man.
Probably it will be asked, what is a legal man to do ? How shall
he discriminate his duties, or know in the present state of legal insti
tutions, what extent of advocation morality allows ? These are fair ques
tions, and he who asks them is entitled to an answer. I confess that an
answer is difficult ; and why is it difficult I Because the whole system
is unsound. He who would rectify the ordinary legal practice is in
the situation of a physician who can scarcely prescribe with effect for
remarked, that one such statesman as ROBERT PEEL is of more value to his country than
a multitude of those who take office and leave it, without any endeavour to ameliorate the
national institutions.
CHAP. 5.) THE DUTIES OF THE PROFESSION. 137
a particular symptom in a patient's case, unless he will submit to an en
tirely new regimen and mode of life The conscientious lawyer is sur
rounded with temptations and with difficulties resulting from the general
system of the law ; difficulties and temptations so great that it may
almost appear to be the part of a wise man to fly rather than to encounter
them. There is however nothing necessarily incidental to the legal pro
fession which makes it incompatible with morality. He who has the
firmness to maintain his allegiance to virtue may doubtless maintain it.
Such a man would consider, that law being in general the practical stan
dard of equity, the pleader may properly illustrate and enforce it. He
may assiduously examine statutes and precedents, and honourably adduce
them on behalf of his client. He may distinctly and luminously ex
hibit his client's claims. In examining his witnesses he may educe
the whole truth ; in examining the other party's, he may endeavour to
detect collusion, and to elicit facts which they may attempt to conceal ;
in a word, he may lay before the court a just and lucid view of the whole
question. — But he may not quote statutes and adjudged cases which he
really does not think apply to the subject, or if they do appear to apply,
he may not urge them as possessing greater force or applicability than he
really thinks they possess. He may not endeavour to mislead the jury by
appealing to their feelings, by employing ridicule, and especially by un
founded insinuations or misrepresentation of facts. He may not endeavour
to make his own witnesses affirm more than he thinks they know, or induce
them, by artful questions, to give a colouring to facts different from the
colouring of truth. He may not endeavour to conceal or discredit the truth
by attempting to confuse the other witnesses, or by entrapping them into
contradictions. • Such as these appear to be the rules which rectitude
imposes in ordinary cases. There are some cases which a professional
man ought not to undertake at all. This is indeed acknowledged by
numbers of the profession. The obligation to reject them is of course
founded upon their contrariety to virtue. How then shall a legal man
know whether he ought to undertake a cause at all, but by some previous
consideration of its merits ? This must really be done if he would con
form to the requisitions of morality. There is not an alternative : and
" absurd" or " impracticable" as it may be pronounced to be, we do not
shrink from explicitly maintaining the truth. Impracticable ! it is at any
rate not impracticable to withdraw from the profession, or to decline to
enter it. A. man is not compelled to be a lawyer ; and if there are so
many difficulties in the practice of professional virtue, what is to be
said ? Are we to say, Virtue must be sacrificed to a profession, — or, The
profession must be sacrificed to virtue ? The pleader will perhaps say
that he cannot tell what the merits of a case are until they are elicited
in court : but this surely would not avail to justify a disregard of morality
in any other case. To defend one's self for an habitual disregard of the
claims of rectitude, because we cannot tell, when we begin a course of
action, whether it will involve a sacrifice of rectitude or not, is an ill
defence indeed. At any rate, if he connects himself with a cause of
questionable rectitude, he needs not and he ought not to advocate it while
ignorant of its merits, as if he knew that it was good. He ought not to
advocate it further than he thinkr it is good. But if any apologist for
legal practice should say that a pleader knows nothing or almost nothing
of a brief till he is instructed in court by a junior counsel, or that he has
too many briefs to be capable of any previous inquiry about them, the
138 EFFECTS OF LEGAL PRACTICE. [ESSAY II.
answer is at hand, — Refuse them. It would only add one example to the
many, — that virtue cannot always be maintained without cost. It is
necessary that a man should adhere to virtue : it is not necessary that he
should be overwhelmed with briefs.
There is one consideration under which a pleader may assist a client
even with a bad cause, which is, that it is proper to prevent the client
from suffering too far. I would acknowledge, generally, the justice of
the opposite party's claims, or, if it were a criminal case, I would acqui
esce in the evidence which carried conviction to my mind ; but still, in both,
something may remain for the pleader to do. The plaintiff may demand
a thousand pounds when only eight hundred are due, and a pleader, though
he could not with integrity resist the whole demand, could resist the excess
of the demand above the just amount. Or if a prosecutor urges the guilt
of a prisoner, and attempts to procure the infliction of an undue punish
ment, a pleader, though he knows the prisoner's guilt, may rightly pre
vent a sentence too severe. Murray the grammarian .had been a barrister
in America : " I do not recollect," says he, " that I ever encouraged a
client to proceed at law when I thought his cause was unjust or indefen
sible ; but in such cases, I believe it was my invariable practice to dis
courage litigation, and to recommend a peaceable settlement of differences.
In the retrospect of this mode of practice, I have always had great satis
faction ; and I am persuaded that a different procedure would have been
the source of many painful recollections."*
One serious consideration remains, — the effect of the immorality of
legal practice upon the personal character of the profession. " The
lawyer who is frequently engaged in resisting what he strongly suspects
to be just, in maintaining what he deems to be in strictness untenable, in
advancing inconclusive reasoning, and seeking after flaws in the sound re
plies of his antagonists, can be preserved by nothing short of serious and
invariable solicitude, from the risk of having the distinction between
moral right and wrong almost erased from his mind."f Is it indeed so ?
Tremendous is the risk. Is it indeed so ? Then the custom which
entails this fearful risk must infallibly be bad. Assuredly, no virtuous
conduct tends to erase the distinctions between right and wrong from the
ftiind.
It is by no means certain, that if a lawyer were to enter upon life
with a steady determination to act upon the principles of strict integrity,
his experience would occasion any exception to the general rule that the
path of virtue is the path of interest. The client who was conscious of
the goodness of his cause would prefer the advocate whose known max
ims of conduct gave weight to every cause that he undertook. When
such a man appeared before a jury, they would attend to his statements
and his reasonings with that confidence which integrity only can inspire.
They would not make, as they now do, perpetual deductions from his
averred facts : they would not be upon the watch, as they now are, to
protect themselves from illusion, and casuistry, and misrepresentation.
Such a man, I say, would have a weight of advocacy which no other
qualification can supply ; and upright clients, knowing this, would find it
* Memoirs of Lindley Murray, p. 43. f Gisborne
CHAP. 6.J PROMISES. 139
their interest to employ him. The majority of clients it is to be hoped
are upright. Professional success therefore would probably follow. And
if a few such pleaders, nay if one such pleader was established, the conse
quence might be beneficial and extensive to a degree which it is not easy
to compute. It might soon become necessary for other pleaders to act
upon the same principles, because clients would not intrust their inter
ests to any but those whose characters would give weight to their advo
cacy. Thus even the profligate part of the profession might be reformed
by motives of interest, if not from choice. Want of credit might be
want of practice ; for it might eventually be almost equivalent to the loss
of a cause to intrust it to a bad man. The effects would extend to the
public. If none but upright men could be efficient advocates, and if
upright men would not advocate vicious causes, vicious causes would not
be prosecuted. But if such be the probable or even the possible results
of sterling integrity, if it might be the means of reforming the practice
of a large and influential profession, and of almost exterminating wicked
litigation from a people, — the obligation to practise this integrity is pro
portionately great : the amount of depending good involves a corres
ponding amount of responsibility upon him who contributes to perpetuate
the evil.
CHAPTER VI.
PROMISES LIES
A PROMISE is a contract, differing from such contracts as a lawyer would
draw up, in the circumstance that ordinarily it is not written. The motive
for signing a contract is to give assurance or security to the receiver that
its terms will be fulfilled. The same motive is the inducement to a promise.
The general obligation of promises needs little illustration, because it is
not disputed. Men are not left without the consciousness that what they
promise they ought to perform ; and thus thousands, who can give no
philosophical account of the matter, know, with certain assurance, that
if they violate their engagements they violate the law of God.
Some philosophers deduce the obligation of promises from the expe
diency of fulfilling them. Doubtless fulfilment is expedient ; but there is
a shorter and a safer road to truth. To promise and not to perform is to
deceive; and deceit is peculiarly and especially condemned by Chris
tianity. A lie has been defined to be " a breach of promise ;" and since
the Scriptures condemn lying, they condemn breaches of promise.
Persons sometimes deceive others by making a promise in a sense
different from that in which they know it will be understood. They hope
this species of deceit is less criminal than breaking their word, and wish
to gain the advantage of deceiving without its guilt. They dislike the
shame, but perform the act. A son has abandoned his father's house, and
the father promises that if he returns he shall be received with open
arms. The son returns : the father ''opens his arms" to receive him, and
then proceeds to treat him with rigour. This father falsifies his promise
as truly as if he had specifically engaged to treat him with kindnesi
140 PROMISES— PAROLE. [ESSAY II.
The sense in which a promise binds a person is the sense in which he
knows it is accepted hy the other party.
It is very possible to promise without speaking. Those who purchase
at auctions frequently advance on the price by a sign or a nod. An auc
tioneer, in selling an estate says, 4' Nine hundred and ninety pounds are
offered." He who makes the customary sign to indicate an advance of
ten pounds promises to give a thousand. A person who brings up his
children or others in the known and encouraged expectation that he will
provide for them promises to provide for them. A ship-master promises
to deliver a pipe of wine at the accustomed port, although he may have
made no written and no verbal engagement respecting it.
Parole, such as is taken of military men, is of imperative obligation.
The prisoner who escapes by breach of parole ought to be regarded
as the perpetrator of an aggravated crime : aggravated, since his word
was accepted, as he knows, because peculiar reliance was placed upon it,
and since he adds to the ordinary guilt of breach of promise that of
casting suspicion and entailing suffering upon other men. If breach of
parole were general, parole would not be taken. It is one of the anoma
lies which are presented by the adherents to the law of honour, that they
do not reject from their society the man who impeaches their respecta
bility and his own, while they reject the man who really impeaches
neither the one nor the other. To say, I am a man of honour, and there
fore you may rely upon my word, and then, as soon as it is accepted, to
violate that word, is no ordinary deceit. An upright man never broke
parole.
Promises are not binding if performance is unlawful. Sometimes men
promise to commit a wicked act — even to assassination ; but a man is not
required to commit murder because he has promised to commit it. Thus,
in the Christian Scriptures, the son who had said, " I will not" work in
the vineyard, and " afterward repented and went," is spoken of with
approbation : his promise was not binding, because fulfilment would have
been wrong. Cranmer, whose religious firmness was overcome in the
prospect of the stake, recanted ; that is, he promised to abandon the Prot
estant faith. Neither was his promise binding. To have regarded it
would have been a crime. The offence both of Cranmer and of the son
in the parable consisted, not in violating their promises, but in making
them.
Some scrupulous persons appear to attach a needless obligation to
expressions which they employ in the form of promises. You ask a lady
if she will join a party in a walk; she declines, but presently recollecting
some inducement to go, she is in doubt whether her refusal does not oblige
her to stay at home. Such a person should recollect that her refusal does
not partake of the character of a promise : there is no other party to it ;
she comes under no engagement to another. She only expresses her
present intention, which intention she is at liberty to alter.
Many promises are conditional though the conditions are not expressed.
A man says to some friends, I will dine with you at two o'clock ; but as
he is preparing to go, his child meets with an accident which requires his
attention. This man does not violate a promise by absenting himself,
because such promises are in fact made and accepted with the tacit under
standing that they are subject to such conditions. No one would expect,
when his friend engaged to dine with him, that he intended to bind him
self to come, though he left a child unassisted with a fractured arm.
CHAP. 6.] EXTORTED PROMISES— JOHN FLETCHER. 141
Accordingly, when a person means to exclude such conditions he says,
" I will certainly do so and so, if I am living and able."
Yet even to seem to disregard an engagement is an evil. To an ingen
uous and Christian mirid there is always something painful in not per
forming it. Of this evil the principal source is gratuitously brought upon
us by the habit of using unconditional terms for conditional engagements.
That which is only intention should be expressed as intention. It is
better, and more becoming the condition of humanity, to say, I intend to
do a thing, than, I will do a thing. The recollection of our dependency
upon uncontrollable circumstances should be present with us even in little
aifairs. " Go to now, ye that say, to-day or to-morrow we will go into such
a city and buy and sell, and get gain : whereas ye know not what shall be
on the morrow. — Ye ought to say, if the Lord will, we shall live, and do
this or that." Not indeed that the sacred name of God is to be intro
duced to express the conditions of our little engagements ; but the prin
ciple should never be forgotten, that we know not what shall be on the
morrow.
Respecting the often discussed question whether extorted promises are
binding, there has been, I suspect, a general want of advertence to one
important point. What is an extorted promise ? If by an extorted promise
is meant a promise that is made involuntarily, without the concurrence
of the will ; if it is the effect of any ungovernable impulse, and made
without the consciousness of the party, — then it is not a promise. This
may happen. Fear or agitation may be so great that a person really
does not know what he says or does ; and in such a case a man's promises
do not bind him any more than the promises x)f a man in a fit of insanity.
But if by an " extorted" promise it is only meant that very powerful induce
ments were held out to making it, inducements however which did not
take away the power of choice, — then these promises are in strictness
voluntary, and, like all other voluntary engagements, they ought to be
fulfilled. But perhaps fulfilment is itself unlawful. Then you may not
fulfil it. The offence consists in making such engagements. It will be
said, a robber threatened to take my life unless I would promise to reveal
the place where my neighbour's money was deposited. Ought I not to
make the promise in order to save my life ? No. Here, in reality, is the
origin of the difficulties and the doubts. To rob your neighbour is crim
inal ; to enable another man to rob him is criminal too. Instead there
fore of discussing the obligation of " extorted" promises, we should con
sider whether such promises may lawfully be made. The prospect of
saving life is one of the utmost inducements to make them ; and yet,
among those things which we are to hold subservient to our Christian,
fidelity is our " own life also." If, however, giving way to the weakness
of nature, a person makes the promise, he should regulate his performance
by the ordinary principles. Fulfil the promise, unless fulfilment be wrong :
and if, in estimating the propriety of fulfilling it, any difficulty arises, it
must be charged, not to the imperfection of moral principles, but to the
entanglement in which we involve ourselves by having begun to deviate
from rectitude. If we had not unlawfully made the promise, we should
have had no difficulty in ascertaining our subsequent duty. The trav
eller who does not desert the proper road easily finds his way; he who
once loses sight of it has many difficulties in returning.
The history of that good man John Fletcher (La Flechere) affords an
example to our purpose. . Fletcher had a brother, De Gons, and a nephew
142 LIES— MILTON'S DEFINITION. [ESSAY 11
a profligate youth. This youth came one day to his uncle De Gons, and
holding up a pistol, declared he would instantly shoot him if he did not
give him an order for five hundred crowns. De Gons in terror gave it ;
and the nephew then, under the same threat, required him solemnly to
promise that he would not prosecute him ; and DeGons made the promise
accordingly. This is what is called an extorted promise, and an extorted
gift. How, in similar circumstances, did Fletcher act ? This youth after
ward went to him, told him of the " present" which De Gons had made,
and showed him the order. Fletcher suspected some fraud, and thinking
it right to prevent, its success, he put the order in his pocket. It was at
the risk of his life. The young man instantly presented his pistol,
declaring that he would fire if he did not deliver it up. Fletcher did not
submit to the extortion : he told him that his life was secure under the
protection of God, refused to deliver up the order, and severely remon
strated with his nephew on his profligacy. The young man was
restrained and softened ; and before he left his uncle, gave him many
assurances that he would amend his life. De Gons might have been
perplexed with doubts as to the obligation of his " extorted" promise :
Fletcher could have no doubts to solve.
LIES.
The guilt of lying, like that of many other offences, has been need
lessly founded upon its ill effects. These effects constitute a good reason
for adhering to truth, but they are not the greatest nor the best. " Putting
away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbour."* " Ye shall not
steal, neither deal falsely, neither lie one to another."! " The law is
made for unholy and profane, for murderers, — for liars. "J It may afford
the reader some instruction to observe with what crimes lying is asso
ciated in Scripture, — with perjury, and murder, and parricide. Not that
it is necessary to suppose that the measure of guilt of these crimes is
equal, but that the guilt of all is great. With respect to lying, there is
no trace in these passages that its guilt is conditional upon its effects, or
that it is not always, and for whatever purpose, prohibited by the Divine
will.
A lie is, uttering what is not true when the speaker professes to utter
truth, or when he knows it is expected by the hearer. I do not perceive
that any looser definition is allowable, because every looser definition
would permit deceit.
Milton's definition, considering the general tenor of his character, was
very lax. He says, " Falsehood is incurred when any one, from a dishonest
motive, either perverts the truth or utters what is false to one to whom it
is his duty to speak the trulh."f§ To whom is it not our duty to speak the
truth ? What constitutes duty but the will of God ? and where is it found
that it is his will that we should sometimes lie ? But another condition
is proposed : in order to constitute a lie, the motive to it must be dishonest.
Is not all deceit dishonesty ; and can any one utter a lie without deceit ?
A man who travels in the Arctic regions comes home and writes a narra
tive, professedly faithful, of his adventures, and decorates it with marvel-
* Eph. iv. 25. t Lev. xix. 11. t 1 Tim. i. 9, 10. $ Christian Doctrine, p. 658.
CHAP. 6.] PALEY— LIES TO ROBBERS. 143
lous incidents which never happened, and stories of wonders which he
never saw. You tell this man he has been passing lies upon the public.
Oh no, he says, I had not " a dishonest motive." I only meant to make
readers wonder. Milton's mode of substantiating his doctrine is worthy
of remark. He makes many references for authority to the Hebrew
Scriptures but not one to the Christian. The reason is plain, though
perhaps he was not aware of it, that the purer moral system which the
Christian lawgiver introduced, did not countenance the doctrine. Another
argument is so feeble that it may well be concluded no valid argument
can be found. If it had been discoverable would not Milton have found
it ? He says, " It is universally admitted that feints and stratagems in
war, when unaccompanied by perjury or breach of faith, do not fall under
the description of falsehood. It is scarcely possible to execute any of
the artifices of war without openly uttering tiie greatest untruths with the
indisputable intention of deceiving."* And so, because the " greatest
untruths" are uttered in conducting one of the most flagitious departments
of the most unchristian system in the world, we are told in a system of
Christian doctrine, that untruths are lawful !
Paley's philosophy is yet more lax : he says that we may tell a false
hood to a person who " has no right to know the truth."f What consti
tutes a right to know the truth it were not easy to determine. But if a
man has no right to know the truth — withhold it ; but do not utter a lie.
A man has no right to know how much property I possess. If however
he impertinently chooses to ask, what am I to do ? Refuse to tell him,
says Christian morality. What am I to do ? Tell him it is ten times as
great as it z.y, says the morality of Palev
To say that when a man is tempted to employ a falsehood, he is to
consider the degree of " inconveniency which results from the want of
confidence in such cases,"! and to employ the falsehood or not as this
degree shall prescribe, is surely to trifle with morality. What is the
hope that a man will decide aright, who sets about such a calculation at
such a time ? Another kind of falsehood which it is said is lawful, is
that " to a robber, to conceal your property." A man gets into my house,
and desires to know where he shall find my plate. I tell him it is in a
chest in such a room, knowing that it is in a closet in another. By such
a falsehood I might save my property or possibly my life: but if the
prospect of doing this be a sufficient reason for violating the moral law,
there is no action which we may not lawfully commit. May a person,
in order so to save his property or life, commit parricide ? Every reader
says, No. But where is the ground of the distinction ? If you may lie
for the sake of such advantages, why may you not kill? What makes
murder unlawful but that which makes lying unlawful too ? No man
surely will say that we must make distinctions in the atrocity of such
actions, and that, though it is not lawful for the sake of advantage to
commit an act of a certain intensity of guilt, yet it is lawful to commit
one of a certain gradation less. Such doctrine would be purely gratui
tous and unfounded : it would be equivalent to saying that we are at
liberty to disobey the Divine laws when we think fit. The case is very
simple : if I may tell a falsehood to a robber in order to save my prop
erty, I may commit parricide for the same purpose ; for lying and parri
cide are placed together and jointly condemned^ in the revelation from
God.
* Chris Doct.p.659. fMor. andPl 3,p. 1, c.15. t Ibid. § 1 Tim. i.9,10.
144 LIES TO LUNATICS— HYPERBOLE— IRONY. [£SSAY IT.
Then we are told that we may " tell a falsehood to a madman for his
own advantage," and this because it is beneficial. Dr. Carter may fur
nish an answer : he speaks of the Female Lunatic Asylum, Salpetriere, in
Paris, and says, " The great object to which the views of the officers of
La Salpetriere are directed is to gain the confidence of the patients ;
and this object is generally attained by gentleness, by appearing to take
an interest, in their affairs, by a decision of character equally remote from
the extremes of indulgence and severity, and by the most scrupulous
observance of good faith. Upon this latter particular stress seems to be
laid by Mr. Pinel, who remarks ' that insane persons, like children, lose
all confidence and all respect if you fail in your word towards them ; and
they immediately set their ingenuity to work to deceive and circumvent
you.' "* — What then becomes of the doctrine of " telling falsehoods to
madmen for their own advantage?" It is pleasant thus to find the evi
dence of experience enforcing the dictates of principle, and that what
morality declares to be right, facts declare to be expedient.
Persons frequently employ falsehoods to a sick man who cannot re
cover, lest it should discompose his mind. .This is called kindness,
although an earnest preparation for death may be at stake upon their
speaking the truth. There is a peculiar inconsistency sometimes
exhibited an such occasions : the persons who will not discompose a sick
man for the sake of his interests in futurity, will discompose him without
scruple if he has not made his will. Is a bequest of more consequence
to the survivor than a hope full of immortality to the dying man ?
It is curious to remark how zealously persons reprobate " pious frauds ;"
that is, lies for the religious benefit of the deceived party. Surely if
any reason for employing falsehood be a good one, it is the prospect of
effecting religious benefit. How is it then that we so freely condemn
these falsehoods, while we contend for others which are used for less
important purposes ?
Still, not every expression that is at variance with facts is a lie,
because there are some expressions in which the speaker does not pre
tend, and the hearer does not expect, literal truth. Of this class are
hyperboles and jests, fables and tales of professed fiction : of this class
too are parables, such as are employed in the New Testament. In such
cases affirmative language is used in the same terms as if the allegations
were true ; yet as it is known that it does not profess to narrate facts,
no lie is uttered. It is the same with some kinds of irony : " Cry aloud,"
said Elijah to the priests of the idol, "for he is a god, peradventure he
sleepeth." And yet because a given untruth is not a lie, it does not
therefore follow that it is innocent : for it is very possible to employ such
expressions without any sufficient justification. A man who thinks he
can best inculcate virtue through a fable, may write one : he who desires
to discountenance an absurdity may employ irony. Yet every one should
use as little of such language as he can, because it is frequently danger
ous language. The man who familiarizes himself to a departure from
literal truth is in danger of departing from it without reason and without
excuse. Some of these departures are like lies ; so much like them that
both speaker and hearer may reasonably question whether they are lies
or not. The lapse from untruths which can deceive no one, to those
which are intended to deceive, proceeds by almost imperceptible grada-
* Account of the Principal Hospitals in France, &c.
C«AP. 6J OMPLIMENTARY UNTRUTHS 145
tions on the scale of evil : and it is not the part of wisdom to approach
the verge of guilt. Nor is it to be forgotten, that language professedly
fictitious is not always understood to be such by those who hear it. This
applies especially to the case of children, — that is, of mankind during
that period of life in which they are acquiring some of their first notions
of morality. The boy who hears his father using hyperboles and irony
with a grave countenance probably thinks he has his father's example
for telling lies among his schoolfellows.
Among the indefensible untruths which often are not lies, are those
which factitious politeness enjoins. Such are compliments and compli
mentary subscriptions, and many other untruths of expression and of
action which pass currently in the world. These are no doubt often
estimated at their value : the receiver knows that they are base coin,
though they shine like the good. Now, although it is not to be pretended
that such expressions so estimated are lies, yet I will venture to affirm
that the reader cannot set up for them any tolerable defence ; and if he
cannot show that they are right he may be quite sure that they are wrong.
A defence has however been attempted : " How much is happiness
increased by the general adoption of a system of concerted and limited
deceit ! He from whose doctrine it flows that we are to be in no case
hypocrites, would, in mere manners, reduce us to a degree of barbarism
beyond that of the rudest savage." — We do not enter into such questions
as whether a man may smile when his friend calls upon him, though he
would rather just then that he had staid away. Whatever the reader may
think of these questions, the " system of deceit" which passes in the
world cannot be justified by the decision. There is no fear that " a degree
of barbarism beyond that of the rudest savage" would ensue, if this system
were amended. The first teachers of Christianity, who will not be
charged with being in " any case hypocrites," both recommended and
practised gentleness and courtesy.* And as to the increase of happi
ness which is assumed to result from this system of deceit, the fact is of
a very questionable kind. No society I believe sufficiently discourages
it ; but that society which discourages it probably as much as any other
certainly enjoys its full average of happiness. — But the apology proceeds,
and more seriously errs : " The employment of falsehood for the pro
duction of good cannot be more unworthy of the Divine Being than the
acknowledged employment of rapine and murder for the same purpose."!
Is it then not perceived that to employ the wickedness of man is a very
different thing from holding its agents innocent ? Some of those whose
wickedness has been thus employed have been punished for that wick
edness. Even to show that the Deity has employed falsehood for the
production of good would in no degree establish the doctrine that false
hood is right.
The childish and senseless practice of requiring servants to " deny"
their masters, has had many apologists, — I suppose because many per
ceive that it is wrong. It is not always true that such a servant does not
in strictness lie : for, how well soever the folly may be understood by the
gay world, some who knock at their doors have no other idea than that
they may depend upon the servant's word. Of this the servant is some
times conscious, and to these persons, therefore, he who denies his
* 1 Peter ii. 1. Tit. iii. 2. 1 Peter iii. 8.
f Edin. Rev. vol i. Art. Belsham's Philosophy of the Mind.
K
146 FALSEHOODS OF LEGAL DOCUMENTS. f ESSAY II.
master lies. An uninitiated servant suffers a shock to his moral princi
ples when he is first required to tell these falsehoods. It diminishes his
previous ' abhorrence of lying, and otherwise deteriorates his moral
character. Even if no such ill consequences resulted from this foolish
custom, there is this objection to it, which is short but sufficient, — nothing
can be said in its defence.
Among the prodigious multiplicity of falsehoods which are practised
in legal processes, the system of pleading not guilty is one that appears
perfectly useless. By the rule, that all who refused to plead were pre
sumed to be guilty, prisoners were in some sort compelled to utter this
falsehood before they could have the privilege of a trial. The law is
lately relaxed • so that a prisoner, if he chooses, may refuse to plead at
all. Still, only a part of the evil is removed, for even now, to keep
silent may be construed into a tacit acknowledgment of guilt, so that the
temptation to falsehood is still exhibited. There is no other use in the
custom of pleading guilty or not guilty, but that, if a man desires to
acknowledge his guilt, he may have the opportunity ; and this he may
have without any custom of the sort. — It cannot be doubted that the mul
titude of falsehoods which obtain in legal documents during the progress
of a suit at law, have a powerful tendency to propagate habits of men
dacity. A man sells goods to the value of twenty pounds to another, and
is obliged to enforce payment by law. The lawyer draws up, for the
creditor, a Declaration in Assumpsit, stating that the debtor owes him forty
pounds for goods sold, forty pounds for work done, forty pounds for money
lent, forty pounds for money expended on his account, forty pounds for
money received by the debtor for the creditor, and so on, — and that two
or three hundred pounds being thus due to the creditor, he has a just
demand of twenty pounds upon the debtor ! These falsehoods are not one-
half of what an every day Declaration in Assumpsit contains. If a person
refuses to give up a hundred head of cattle which a farmer has placed in
his custody, the farmer declares that he " casually lost" them, and that the
other party " casually found" them: and then, instead of saying he casually
lost a hundred head of cattle, he declares that it was a thousand bulls, a
thousand cows, a thousand oxen, and a thousand heifers !* — I do not
think that the habits of mendacity which such falsehoods are likely to
encourage are the worst consequences of this unhappy system, but they
are seriously bad. No man who considers the influence of habit upon
the mind can doubt that an ingenuous abhorrence of lying is likely to
be diminished by familiarity with these extravagant falsehoods.
* See the Form, 2 Chittyon Pleading, p. 370.
CHAP. 7.1 IMMORALITY OF OATHS. 147
CHAPTER VII.
OATHS.
THEIR MORAL CHARACTER :
THEIR EFFICACY AS SECURITIES OF VERACITY I
THEIR EFFECTS.
" An oath is that whereby we call God to witness the truth of what we
say, with a curse upon ourselves, either implied or expressed, should it
prove false."*
A CURSE. Now supposing the Christian Scriptures to contain no inform
ation respecting the moral character of oaths, how far is it reasonable,
or prudent, or reverent, for a man to stake his salvation upon the truth of
what he says ? To bring forward so tremendous an event as u ever
lasting destruction from the presence of the Lord," in attestation of the
offence perhaps of a poacher, or of the claim to a field, is surely to make,
unwarrantably, light of most awful things. This consideration applies,
even if a man is sure that he speaks the truth : but who is, beforehand,
sure of this ? Oaths in evidence, for example, are taken before the testi
mony is given. A person swears that he will speak the truth. Who,
I ask, is sure that he will do this ? Who is sure that the embarrassment
of a public examination, that the ensnaring questions of counsel, that the
secret influence of inclination or interest, will not occasion him to utter
one inaccurate expression ? Who, at any rate, is so sure of this that it
is rational, or justifiable, specifically to stake his salvation upon his accu
racy ? Thousands of honest men have been mistaken ; their allegations
have been sincere, but untrue. And if this should be thought not a legiti
mate objection, let it be remembered that few men's minds are so sternly
upright that they can answer a variety of questions upon subjects on
which their feelings, and wishes, and interest are involved, without some
little deduction from the truth, in speaking of matters that are against
their cause, or some little over-colouring of facts in their own favour. It
is a circumstance of constant occurrence, that even a well-intentioned
witness adds to or deducts a little from the truth. Who then, amid such
temptation, would make, who ought to make, his hope of heaven depend
ent on his strict adherence to accurate veracity? And if such considera
tions indicate the impropriety of swearing upon subjects which affect the
lives, and liberties, and property of others, how shall we estimate the
impropriety of using these dreadful imprecations to attest the delivery of
a summons for a debt of half-a-crown !
These are moral objections to the use of oaths independently of any
reference to the direct moral law. Another objection of the same kind
is this : To take an oath is to assume that the Deity will become a party
* Milton : Christian Doctrine, p. 579.
K2
148 MATT. V. 33.— OATHS OF THE ANCIENT JEWS. [ESSAY It.
in the case, — that we can call upon Him, when we please, to follow up
by the exercise of His almighty power, the contracts (often the very insig
nificant contracts) whicii men make with men. Is it not irreverent, and
for that reason immoral; to call upon him to exercise this power in refer
ence to subjects which are so insignificant that other men will scarcely
listen with patience to their details ? The objection goes even further.
A robber exacts an oath of the man whom he has plundered, that he will
not attempt to pursue or to prosecute him. Pursuit and prosecution are
duties ; so then the oath assumes that the Deity will punish the swearer
in futurity if he fulfils a duty. Confederates in a dangerous and wicked
enterprise bind one another to secrecy and to mutual assistance, by
oaths, — assuming that God will become a party to their wickedness, and
if they do not perpetrate it will punish them for their virtue.
Upon every subject of questionable rectitude that is sanctioned by
habit and the usages of society, a person should place himself in the
independent situation of an inquirer. He should not seek for arguments
to defend an existing practice, but should simply inquire what our prac
tice ought to be. One of the most powerful causes of the slow amend
ment of public institutions consists in this circumstance, that most men
endeavour rather to justify what exists than to consider whether it ought
to exist or not. This cause operates upon the question of oaths. \Ve
therefore invite the reader, in considering the citation which follows, to
suppose himself to be one of the listeners at the mount, — to know nothing
of the customs of the present day, and to have no desire to justify them.
" Ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shalt
not forswear thyself, but shall perform unto the Lord thine oaths. But I
say unto you, Swear not at all : neither by heaven, for it is God's throne;
nor by the earth, for it is his footstool ; neither by Jerusalem, for it is the
city of the Great King. Neither sTialt thou swear by thy head, because
thou canst not make one hair white or black. But let your communica
tion be yea yea, nay nay ; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of
evil."*
If a person should take a New Testament and read these words to ten
intelligent Asiatics who had never heard of them before, does any man
believe that a single individual of them would think that the words did
not. prohibit all oaths ? I lay stress upon this consideration : if ten unbi
ased persons would, at the first hearing, say the prohibition was univer
sal, we have no contemptible argument that that is the real meaning of
the words. For to whom were the words addressed ? Not to school
men, of whom it was known that they would make nice distinctions and
curious investigations ; not to men of learning, who were in the habit of
cautiously weighing the import of words, — but to a multitude, — a mixed
and unschooled multitude. It was to such persons that the prohibition
was addressed ; it was to such apprehensions that its form was adapted.
" It hath been said of old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself." Why
refer to what was said of old time ? For this reason assuredly ; to point
out that the present requisitions were different from the former ; that what
was prohibited now was different from what was prohibited before. And
what was prohibited before ? Swearing falsely, — swearing and not per
forming. What then could be prohibited now? Swearing truly, — swear
ing, even, and performing : that is, swearing at all ; for it is manifest tha
* Matt. v. 33-37.
CHAP. 7.] MILTON -PALEY. 149
if truth may not be attested by an oath, no oath may be taken. Of old
time it was said, "Ye shall not swear by my name falsely T* "If a
man swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond, he shall not break his
word."t There could be no intelligible purpose in contradistinguishing
the new precept from these, but to point out a characteristic difference ;
and there is no intelligible characteristic difference but that which
denounces all oaths. Such were the views of the early Christians.
•* The old law," says one of them, " is satisfied with the honest keeping
of the oath, but Christ cuts off the opportunity of perjury ."J In acknow
ledging that this prefatory reference to the former law is in my view
absolutely conclusive of our Christian duty, I would remark, as an extra
ordinary circumstance, that Dr. Paley, in citing the passage, omits this
introduction, and takes no notice of it in his argument.
" I say unto you, Swear not at all.11 The words are absolute and
exclusive.
" Neither by heaven, nor by the earth, nor by Jerusalem, nor by thy
own head." Respecting this enumeration it is said that it prohibits
swearing by certain objects, but not by all objects. To which a suffi
cient answer is found in the parallel passage in James . " Swear not,"
he says ; " neither by heaven, neither by the earth, neither by any other
oath."$ This mode of prohibition, by which an absolute and universal
rule is first proposed and then followed by certain examples of the pro
hibited things, is elsewhere employed in Scripture. " Thou shall have
no other gods before me. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven
image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in
the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. "|| No man sup
poses that this after-enumeration was designed to restrict the obligation
of the law, — Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Yet it were as
reasonable to say that it was lawful to make idols in the form of
imaginary monsters because they were not mentioned in the enumera
tion, as that it is lawful to swear any given kind of oath because it is
not mentioned in the enumeration. Upon this part of the prohibition it
is curious that two contradictory opinions are advanced by the defenders
of oaths. The first class of reasoners say, the prohibition allows us
to swear by the Deity, but disallows swearing by inferior things. The
second class say, the prohibition allows swearing by inferior things, but
disallows swearing by the Deity. Of the first class is Milton. The
injunction, he says, " does not prohibit us from swearing by the name of
God, — we are only commanded not to swear by heaven, &c."]f But here
again the Scripture itself furnishes a conclusive answer. It asserts that
to swear by heaven is to swear by the Deity : " He that shall swear by
heaven sweareth by the throne of God, and by Him that sitteth thereon."**
To prohibit swearing by heaven is therefore to prohibit swearing by God.
Among the second class is Dr. Paley. He says, " On account of the
relation which these things [the heavens, the earth, <fcc.] bore to the
Supreme Being, to swear by any of them was in effect and substance to
swear by Him ; for which reason our Saviour says, Swear not at all ;
that is, neither directly by God nor indirectly by any thing related to
him."ft But. if we are thus prohibited from swearing by any thing related
to Him, how happens it that Paley proceeds to justify judicial oaths ?
* Lev. xix. 12. t Numb. xxx. 2. J Basil. $ James v. 12.
'I Exod. xx. 3. See also xx. 4. ^Christian Doctrine, p. 582. ** Matt, xxiii 22
ft Moral and Political Philosophy, b. 3, p. I, c. 16.
150 IMMORALITY OF OATHS. [ESSAY II.
Does not the judicial deponent swear by something related to God?
Does he not swear by something much more nearly related than the
earth or our own heads ? Is not our hope of salvation more nearly related
than a member of our bodies ? But after he has thus taken pains to
show that swearing by the Almighty was especially forbidden, he enforces
his general argument by saying that Christ did swear by the Almighty!
He says that the high-priest examined our Saviour upon oath, " by the
living God ;" which oath he took. This is wonderful ; and the more
wonderful because of these two arguments the one immediately follows
the other. It is contended, within half a dozen lines, first that Christ
forbade swearing by God, and next that he violated his own command.
" But let your communication be yea yea, nay nay." This is remark
able : it is positive superadded to negative commands. We are told not that
only what we ought not, but what we ought to do. It has indeed been said
the expression " your communication" fixes the meaning to apply to the
ordinary intercourse of life. But to this there is a fatal objection : the
whole prohibition sets out with a reference, not to conversational language,
but to solemn declarations on solemn occasions. Oaths " to the Lord,"
are placed at the head of the passage ; and it is too manifest to be
insisted upon that solemn declarations, and not every-day talk, were the
subject of the prohibition.
" Whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil." This is indeed
most accurately true. Evil is the foundation of oaths : it is because men
are bad that it is supposed oaths are needed : take away the wickedness
of mankind, and we shall still have occasion for No and Yes, but we
shall need nothing more than these. Arid this consideration furnishes a
distinct motive to a good man to decline to swear. To take an oath is
tacitly to acknowledge that this " evil" exists in his own mind, — that with
him Christianity has not effected its destined objects.
From this investigation of the passage, it appears manifest that all
swearing upon all occasions is prohibited. Yet the ordinary opinion, or
rather perhaps the ordinary defence is, that the passage has no reference
to judicial oaths. — " We explain our Saviour's words to relate, riot to
judicial oaths, but to the practice of vain, wanton, and unauthorized
swearing in common discourse." To this we have just seen that there is
one conclusive answer : our Saviour distinctly and specifically mentions,
as the subject of his instructions, solemn oaths. But there is another
conclusive answer even upon our opponents' own showing. They say,
first, that Christ described particular forms of oaths which might be em
ployed, and next that his precepts referred to wanton swearing; that is
to say, that Christ described what particular forms of wanton swearing
he allowed and what he disallowed ! You cannot avoid this monstrous
conclusion. If Christ spoke only of vain and wanton swearing, and if he
described the modes that were lawful, he sanctioned wanton swearing,
provided we swear in the prescribed form.
With such distinctness of evidence as to the universality of the pro
hibition of oaths by Jesus Christ, it is not in strictness necessary to refer
to those passages in the Christian Scriptures which some persons adduce
in favour of their employment. If Christ have prohibited them, nothing
else can prove them to be right. Our reference to these passages will
accordingly be short.
" I adjure thee by the living God that thou tell us whether thou be the
Christ, the Son of God." To those who allege that Christ, in answering
CHAP. 7.] HIGH-PRIEST'S ADJURATION. 151
to this " Thou hast said," took an oath, a sufficient answer has already
been intimated. If Christ then took an oath, he swore by the Deity, and
this is precisely the very kind of oath which it is acknowledged he him
self forbade. But what imaginable reason could there be for examining
him upon oath ? Who ever heard of calling upon a prisoner to swear
that he was guilty ? Nothing was wanted but a simple declaration that he
was the Son of God. With this view the proceeding was extremely natural.
Finding that to the less urgent solicitation he made no reply, the high-priest
proceeded to the more urgent. Schleusner expressly remarks upon the
passage that the words I adjure, do not here mean " I make to swear, or put
upon oath," but, " I solemnly and in the name of God exhort and enjoin."
This is evidently the natural and the only natural meaning ; just as it
was the natural meaning when the evil spirit said, " I adjure thee by the
living God that thou torment me not." The evil spirit surely did not
administer an oath.
" God is my witness that without ceasing I make mention of you
always in my prayers."* That the Almighty was witness to the subject
of his prayers is most true ; but to state this truth is not to swear.
Neither this language nor that which is indicated below contains the
characteristics of an oath, according to the definitions even of those
who urge the expressions. None of them contain, according to Mil
ton's definition, " a curse upon ourselves ;" nor according to Paley's,
an " invocation of God's vengeance." Similar language, but in a more
emphatic form, is employed in writing to the Corinthian converts. It
appears from 2 Cor. ii., that Paul had resolved not again logo to Corinth
in heaviness, lest he should make them sorry. And to assure them why
he had made this resolution he says, " I call God for a record upon my
soul that to spare you I came not as yet unto Corinth." In order to show
this to be an oath, it will be necessary to show that the apostle impre
cated the vengeance of God if he did not speak the truth. Who can
show this ? — The expression appears to me to be only an emphatical mode
of saying, God is witness ; or, as the expression is sometimes employed
in the present day, God knows that such was my endeavour or desire.
The next and the last argument is of a very exceptionable class : it is
founded upon silence. " For men verily swear by the greater, and an
oath for confirmation is to them an end oif all strife."f Respecting this,
it is said that it "speaks of the custom of swearing judicially without
any mark of censure or disapprobation." Will it then be contended that
whatever an apostle mentions without reprobating he approves ? The
same apostle speaks just in the same manner of the pagan games ; of
running a race for prizes, and of " striving for the mastery." Yet who
would admit the argument that because Paul did not then censure the
games, he thought them right ? The existing customs both of swearing
and of the games are adduced merely by way of illustration of the writer's
subject.
Respecting the lawfulness of oaths, then, as determined by the Christian
Scriptures, how does the balance of evidence stand ? On the one side,
we have plain emphatical prohibitions, — prohibitions of which the dis
tinctness is more fully proved the more they are investigated ; on the
other we have— counter precepts ? — No — It is not even pretended : but
we have examples of the use of language of which it is saying much to
' Rom. i. 9. See also 1 Thess ii. 5, and Gal. i. 20. t Heb. vi. 16.
152 INEFFICACY OF OATHS. [Eauy II.
say that it is doubtful whether they are oaths or not. How then would
the man of reason and of philosophy decide ? — ** Many of the Christian
fathers," says Grotius, *' condemned all oaths without exception."* Gro-
tius was himself an advocate of oaths. "I say nothing of perjury,"
says Tertullian, " since swearing itself is unlawful to Christians."!
Chrysostom says, " Do not say to me, I swear for a just purpose : it is
no longer lawful for thee to swear, either justly or unjustly."! " ^e who,"
says Gregory of Nysse, " has precluded murder by taking away anger,
and who has driven away the pollution of adultery by subduing desire,
has expelled from our life the curse of perjury by forbidding us to swear ;
for where there is no oath there can be no infringement of it."$ — Such is the
conviction which the language of Christ conveyed to the early converts
to his pure religion ; and such is the conviction which I think it would
convey to us, if custom had not familiarized us with the evil, and if we did
not read the New Testament rather to find justifications of our practice
than to discover the truth and to apply it to our conduc
EFFICACY OF OATHS AS SECURITIES FOR VERACITY.
Men naturally speak the truth unless they have some inducements to
falsehood. When they have such inducements, what is it that over
comes them and still prompts them to speak the truth ?
Considerations of duty founded upon religion :
The apprehension of the ill opinion of other men :
The fear of legal penalties.
I. It is obvious that the intervention of an oath is designed to strengthen
only the first of these motives, — that is, the religious sanction. I say to
strengthen the religious sanction. No one supposes it creates that sanc
tion ; because people know that the sanction is felt to apply to falsehood
as well as to perjury. The advantage of an oath, then, if advantage there
be, is in the increased power which it gives to sentiments of duty founded
upon religion. Now it will be our endeavour to show that this increased
power is small ; that in fact the oath, as such, adds very little to the
motives to veracity. What class of men will the reader select in order
to illustrate its greatest power ?
Good men ? They will speak the truth, whether without an oath or
with it. They know that God has appended to falsehood as to perjury
the threat of his displeasure, and of punishment in futurity. Upon them
religion possesses its rightful influence without the intervention of an
oath.
Bad men? Men who care nothing for religion? They will care
nothing for it though they take an oath.
Men of ambiguous character ? Men on whom the sanctions of reli
gion are sometimes operative and sometimes not ? Perhaps it will be
said that to these the solemnity of an oath is necessary, to rouse their
latent apprehensions and to bind them to veracity. But these per
sons do not go before a legal officer or into a court of justice as they go
into a parlour or meet an acquaintance in the street. Kecollection of
* Rights of War and Peace. t De Idol. cap. 1 1.
t In Gen. ii. Horn. xv. $ In Cant. Horn. 13.
CHAP. 7.] PUBLIC OPINION— LEGAL PENALTIES. 153
mind is forced upon them by the circumstances of their situation. The
court and the forms of law, and the audience, and the after publicity
of the evidence, fix the attention even of the careless. The man of
only occasional seriousness is serious then : and if, in their hours of
seriousness, such persons regard the sanctions of religion, they will regard
them in a court of justice though without an oath.
Yet it may be supposed by the reader that the solemnity of a specific
imprecation of the Divine vengeance would, nevertheless, frequently add
stronger motives to adhere to truth. But what is the evidence of expe
rience? After testimony has been given on affirmation, the parties are some
times examined on the same subject upon oath. Now Pothier says, " In
forty years of practice, I have only met two instances where the parties
in the case of an oath offered after evidence have been prevented by a
sense of religion from persisting in their testimonies." Two instances
in forty years : and even with respect to these it is to be remembered,
that one great reason why simple affirmations do not bind men, is that theii
obligation is artificially diminished (as we shall presently see) by the
employment of oaths. To the evidence resulting from these truths I
know of but one limitary consideration ; and to this the reader must
attach such weight as he thinks it deserves, — that a man on whom an
oath had been originally imposed might then have been bound to veracity,
who would not incur the shame of having lied by refusing afterward to
* 'jnfirm his falsehoods with an oath.
II. The next inducement to adhere to truth is the apprehension of the
•-U opinion of others. And this inducement, either in its direct or indirect
operation, will be found to be incomparably more powerful than that reli
gious inducement which is applied by an oath as such. Not so much
tecause religious sanctions are less operative than public opinion, as
tecause public opinion applies or detaches the religious sanction. Upon
his subject a serious mistake has been made ; for it has been contended
hat the influence of religious motives is comparatively nothing, — that
unless men are impelled to speak the truth by fear of disgrace or of
legal penalties, they care very little for the sanctions of religion. But
he truth is, that the sanctions of religion are in a great degree either
Drought into operation, or prevented from operating, by these secondary
motives. Religious sanctions necessarily follow the judgments of the mind:
if a man by any means becomes convinced that a given action is wrong,
ihe religious obligation to refrain from it follows. Now the judgments of
men respecting right and wrong are very powerfully affected by public
opinion. It commonly happens that that which a man has been habitually
taught to think wrong he does think wrong. Men are thus taught by public
opinion. So that if the public attach disgrace to any species of mendacity
or perjury, the religious sanction will commonly apply to that species. If
there are instances of mendacity or perjury to which public disapprobation
does not attach, — to those instances the religious sanction will commonly
not apply, or apply but weakly. The power of public opinion in binding to
veracity is therefore twofold. It has its direct influence arising from the
fear which all men feel of the disapprobation of others, and the indirect
influence arising from the fact that public opinion applies the sanctions of
religion.
III. Of the influence of legal penalties in binding to veracity little
needs to be said. It is obvious that if they induce men to refrain from
theft and violence, they will induce men to refrain from perjury. But it
7
154 INEFFICIENCY OF OATHS. [ESSAY II.
•
may be remarked, that the legal penalty tends to give vigour and efficiency
to public opinion. He whom the law punishes as a criminal is generally
regarded as a criminal by the world.
Now that which we affirm is this, — that unless public opinion or legal
penalties enforce veracity, very little will be added by an oath to the
motives to veracity more than would subsist in the case of simple affirm
ation. The observance of the Oxford statutes* is promised by the mem
bers on oath, — yet no one observes them. They swear to observe them,
they imprecate the Divine vengeance if they do not observe them, and yet
they disregard them every day. The oath then is of no avail. An
oath, as such, does not here bind men's consciences. And why ? Because
those sanctions by which men's consciences are bound are not applied.
The law applies none : public opinion applies none : and therefore the
religious sanction is weak ; too weak with most men to avail. Not that no
motives founded upon religion present themselves to the mind ; for 1 doubt
not there are good men who would refuse to take these oaths simply in
consequence of religious motives : but constant experience shows that
these men are comparatively few ; and if any one should say that upon
them an oath is influential, we answer, that they are precisely the very
persons who would be bound by their simple promises without an oath.
The oaths of jurymen afford another instance. Jurymen swear that
they will give a verdict according to the evidence, and yet it is perfectly
well known that they often assent to a verdict which they believe to be
contrary to that evidence. They do not all coincide in the verdict which
the foreman pronounces ; it is indeed often impossible that they should
coincide. This perjury is committed by multitudes ; yet what juryman
cares for it, or refuses, in consequence of his oath, to deliver a verdict
which he believes to be improper ? The reason that they do not care is,
that the oath as such does not bind their consciences. It stands alone.
The public do not often rep'robate the violation of such oaths ; the law
does not punish it ; jurymen learn to think that it is no harm to violate
them ; and the resulting conclusion is, that the form of an oath cannot
and does not supply the deficiency : it cannot and does not apply the
religious sanction.
Step a few yards from the jury-box to the witness-box, and you see
the difference. There public opinion interposes its power, — there the
punishment of perjury impends, — there the religious sanction is applied,
— and there, consequently, men regard the truth. If the simple inter
vention of an oath was that which bound men to veracity, they would be
bound in the jury-box as much as at ten feet off: but it is not.
A custom-house oath is nugatory even to a proverb. Yet it is an oath :
yet the swearer does stake his salvation upon his veracity ; and still
his veracity is not secured. Why ? Because an oath, as such, applies to the
minds of most men little or no motive to veracity. They do not in fact
think that their salvation is staked, necessarily, by oaths. They think it
is either staked or not, according to certain other circumstances quite
independent of the oath itself. These circumstances are not associated
with custom-house oaths, and therefore they do not avail. Churchward
ens' oaths are of the same kind. Upon these, Gisborne remarks, — " In
the successive execution of the office of churchwarden, almost every
man above the rank of a day labourer, in every parish in the kingdom,
* See p. 163.
CHAP. 7.] INEFFICIENCY OF OATHS. 155
learns to consider the strongest sanction of truth as a nugatory form."
This is not quite accurate. They do not learn to consider the strongest
sanction of truth as a nugatory form, but they learn to consider oaths as
a nugatory form. The reality is, that the sanctions of truth are not
brought into operation, and that oaths, as such, do not bring them into
operation.
We return then to our proposition. — Unless public opinion or legal penal
ties enforce veracity, very little is added by an oath to the motives to
veracity, more than would subsist in the case of simple affirmation.
It is obvious that the legislature might, if it pleased, attach the same
penalties to falsehood as it now attaches to perjury ; and therefore all the
motives to veracity which are furnished by the law in the case of oaths
might be equally furnished in the case of affirmation. This is in fad
done by the legislature in the case of the Society of Friends.
It is also obvious that public opinion might be applied to affirmation
much more powerfully than it is now. The simple circumstance of dis
using oaths would effect this. Even now, when the public disapprobation
is excited against a man who has given false evidence in a court of justice,
by what is it excited \ by his having broken his oath, or by his having given
false testimony ? It is the falsehood which excites the disapprobation,
much more than the circumstance that the falsehood was in spite of an oath.
This public disapprobation is founded upon the general perception of the
guilt of false testimony and of its perniciousness. Now if affirmation
only was employed, this public disapprobation would follow the lying
witness, as it now follows, or nearly as it now follows, the perjured wit
ness. Every thing but the mere oath would be the same, — the fear of
penalties, the fear of disgrace, the motives of religion would remain ; and
we have just shown how little a mere oath avails. But we have artifi
cially diminished the public reprobation of lying by establishing oaths.
The tendency of instituting oaths is manifestly to diffuse the sentiment
that there is a difference in the degree of obligation not to lie, and not to
swear falsely. This difference is made, not so much by adding stronger
motives to veracity by an oath, as by deducting from the motives to veracity
in simple affirmations. Let the public opinion take its own healthful and
unobstructed course, and falsehood in evidence will quickly be regarded
as a flagrant offence. Take away oaths, and the public reprobation of
falsehood will immediately increase in power, and will bring with its
increase an increasing efficiency in the religious sanction. The present
relative estimate of lying and perjury is a very inaccurate standard by
which to judge of the efficiency of oaths. We have artificially reduced
the abhorrence of lying, and then say that that abhorrence is not great
enough to bind men to the truth.
Our reasoning then proceeds by these steps. Oaths are designed to
apply a strong religious sanction : they however do not apply it unless
they are seconded by the apprehension of penalties or disgrace. The
apprehension of penalties and disgrace maybe attached to falsehood^ and
with this apprehension the religious sanction will also be attached to it.
Therefore, all those motives which bind men to veracity may be applied
to falsehood as well as to oaths. In other words, oaths are needless.
But in reality we have evidence of this needlessness from every-day
experience. In some of the most important of temporal affairs an oath
is never used. The Houses of Parliament, in their examinations of wit
nesses, employ no oaths. They are convinced (and therefore they have
156 COURTS-MARTIAL-UNITED STATES. [ESSAY
proved) that the truth can be discovered without them. But if affirma
tion is thus a sufficient security for veracity in the great questions of a
legislature, how can it be insufficient in the little questions of private life ?
There is a strange inconsistency here. That same parliament
which declares, by its every-day practice, that oaths are needless,
continues, by its every-day practice, to impose them ! Even more :
those very men who themselves take oaths as a necessary qualification
for their duties as legislators, proceed to the exercise of these duties
upon the mere testimony of other men ! — Peers are never required to
take oaths in delivering their testimony, yet no one thinks that a peer's
evidence in a court of justice may not be as much depended upon as that
of him who swears. Why are peers in fact bound to veracity though
without an oath ? Will you say that the religious sanction is more pow
erful upon lords than upon other men ? The supposition were ridicu
lous. How then does it happen ? You reply, Their honour binds them.
Very well ; that is the same as to say that public opinion binds them.
But then he who says that honour, or any thing else besides pure reli
gious sanctions, binds men to veracity, impugns the very grounds upon
which oaths are defended.
Oath evidence, again, is not required by courts-martial. But can any
man assign a reason why a person who would speak the truth on affirma
tion before military officers would not speak it on affirmation before a
judge 1 Arbitrations, too, proceed often, perhaps generally, upon evi
dence of parole. Yet do not arbitrators discover the truth as well as
courts of justice ? and if they did not it would be little in favour of
oaths, because a part of the sanction of veracity is, in the case of arbitra
tions, withdrawn.
But we have even tried the experiment of affirmations in our own
courts of justice, and tried it for some ages past. The Society of Friends
uniformly give their evidence in courts of law on their words alone. No
man imagines that their words do not bind them. No legal ' court
would listen with more suspicion to a witness because he was a Quaker.
Here all the motives to veracity are applied : there is the religious motive
which, in such cases, all but desperately bad men feel : there is the mo
tive of public opinion : and there is the motive arising from the penalties
of the law. If the same motives were applied to other men, why should
they not be as effectual in securing veracity as they are upon the
Quakers.
We have an example even yet more extensive. In all the courts of
the United States of America no one is obliged to take an oath. What
are we to conclude ? Are the Americans so foolish a people that they
persist in accepting affirmations, knowing that they do not bind witnesses
to truth ? Or, do the Americans really find that affirmations are suffi
cient ? But one answer can be given : They find that affirmations
are sufficient : they prove undeniably that oaths are needless. No one
will imagine'Vi* virtue on the other side the Atlantic is so much greater
than on this, that, while an affirmation is sufficient for an Ameri "/*r» an
oath is necessary here.
So that, whether we inquire into the moral lawfulness of oaths, they
are not lawful ; or into their practical utility, they are of little use, or of
none.
CHAP.?.] OATHS PROMOTE FALSEHOOD. 157
EFFECTS OF OATHS.
There is a power and efficacy in our religion which elevates those
•who heartily accept it above that low moral state in which alone an oath
can even be supposed to be of advantage. The man who takes an oath
virtually declares that his word would not bind him ; and this is an ad
mission which no good man should make, for the sake both of his own
moral character and of the credit of religion itself. It is the testimony
even of infidelity, that 4< wherever men ot uncommon energy and dignity
of mind have existed, they have felt the degradation of binding their
assertions with an oath,"* This degradation, this descent from the proper
ground on which a man of integrity should stand, illustrates the proposi
tion, that whatever exceeds affirmation " cometh of evil." The evil ori
gin is so palpable that you cannot comply with the custom without feel
ing that you sacrifice the dignity of virtue. It is related of Solon that
he said, «* A good man ought to be in that estimation that he needs not
an oath ; because it is to be reputed a lessening of his honour if he be
forced to swear."t If to take an oath lessened a pagan's honour, what
must be its effect upon a Christian's purity?
Oaths, at least the system of oaths which obtains in this country, tend
powerfully to deprave the moral character. We have seen that they are
continually violated, — that men are continually referring to the most tre
mendous sanctions of religion, with the habitual belief that those sane
tions impose no practical obligation. Can this have any other tendency
than to diminish the influence of religious sanctions upon other things ?
If a manjsets light by the Divine vengeance in the jury-box to-day, is he
likely to give full weight to that vengeance before a magistrate to
morrow ? We cannot prevent the effects of habit. Such things will
infallibly deteriorate the moral character, because they infallibly dimin
ish the power of those principles upon which the moral character is
founded.
Oaths encourage falsehood. We have already seen that the effect of
instituting oaths is to diminish the practical obligation of simple affirma
tion. The law says, You must speak the truth when you are upon your
oath ; which is the same thing as to say that it is less harm to violate
truth when you are not on your oath. The court sometimes reminds a
witness that he is upon oath, which is equivalent to saying, If you were
not, we should think less of your mendacity. The same lesson is incul
cated by the assignation of penalties to perjury and not to falsehood.
What is a man to conclude, but that the law thinks light of the crime
which it does not punish ; and that since he may lie with impunity, it is
not much harm to lie ? Common language bears testimony to the effect.
The vulgar phrase, I will take my oath to it, clearly evinces the prevalent
notion that a man may lie with less guilt when he does not take his oath.
No answer can be made to this remark, unless any one can show that the
extra sanction of an oath is so much added to the obligation which would
otherwise attach to simple affirmation. And who can show this ? Expe
rience proves the contrary : " Experience bears ample testimony to the
fact, that the prevalence of oaths among men (Christians not excepted)
» Godwin ; Political Justice, v. 2, p. 633. t Stobceus : Serm. 3.
158 GENERAL OBLIGATIONS. [ESSAY II.
lias produced a very material and very general effect in reducing their
estimate of the obligation of plain truth, in its natural and simple forms."*
— "There is no cause of insincerity, prevarication, and falsehood more
powerful than the practice of administering oaths in a court of justice."!
Upon this subject the legislator plays a desperate game against the
morality of a people. He wishes to make them speak the truth when
they undertake an office or deliver evidence. Even supposing him to
succeed, what is the cost ? That of diminishing the motives to veracity
in all the affairs of life. A man may not be called upon to take an oath
above two or three times in his life, but he is called upon to speak the
truth every day.
A few, but a few serious, words remain. The investigations of this
chapter are not matters to employ speculation, but to influence our prac
tice. If it be indeed true that Jesus Christ has imperatively forbidden
us to employ an oath, a duty, an imperative duty, is imposed upon us.
It is worse than merely vain to hear his laws unless we obey them.
Of him, therefore, who is assured of the prohibition, it is indispensably
required that he should refuse an oath. There is no other means of
maintaining our allegiance to God. Our pretensions to Christianity are
at stake : for he who, knowing the Christian law, will not conform to it,
is certainly not a Christian. How then does it happen, that although
persons frequently acknowledge they think oaths are forbidden, so few,
when they are called upon to swear, decline to do it ? Alas, this offers
one evidence among the many of the want of uncompromising moral
principles in the world, — of such principles as it has been the endeavour
of these pages to enforce, — of such principles as would prompt us and
enable us to sacrifice every thing to Christian fidelity. By what means
do the persons of whom we speak suppose that the will of God respecting
oaths is to be effected? To whose practice do they look for an exempli
fication of the Christian standard ? Do they await some miracle by
which the whole world shall be convinced, and oaths shall be abolished
without the agency of man? Such are not the means by which it is the
pleasure of the Universal Lord to act. He effects his moral purposes by
the instrumentality of faithful men. Where are these faithful men ? — But
let it be : if those who are called to this fidelity refuse, theirs will be the
dishonour and the offence. But the work will eventually be done. Other
and better men will assuredly arise to acquire the Christian honour and to
receive the Christian reward.
* Gurney : Observations, &c. c. x. f Godwin : Y. 2» p. 634
HAP. 8.] ARTICULAR OATHS. 159
CHAPTER VIII.
THE MORAL CHARACTER, OBLIGATIONS, AND EFFECTS OF PARTICULAR
OATHS.
SUBSCRIPTION TO ARTICLES OF RELIGION.
IN reading the paragraphs which follow respecting several of the
specific oaths which are imposed in this country, the reader should
remember that the evils with which they are attended would almost
equally attend affirmations in similar circumstances. Our object, there
fore, is less to illustrate their nature as oaths, than as improper and
vicious engagements. With respect to the interpretation of a particular
oath, it is obviously to be determined by the same rule as that of promises.
A man must fulfil his oath in that sense in which he knows the imposer
designs and expects him to fulfil it. And he must endeavour to ascertain
what the imposer's expectation is. To take an oath in voluntary igno
rance of the obligations which it is intended to impose, and to excuse
ourselves for disregarding them because we do not know what they are,
cannot surely be right. Yet it is often difficult, sometimes impossible,
to discover what an oath requires. The absence of precision in the
meaning of terms, the alteration of general usages while the forms of
oaths remain the same, and the original want of explicitness of the forms
themselves, throw sometimes insuperable obstacles in the way of discov
ering, when a man takes an oath, what it is that he binds himself to do.
This is manifestly a great evil : and it is chargeable primarily upon the
custom of exacting oaths at all. It is in general a very difficult thing to
frame an unobjectionable oath, — an oath which shall neither be so lax as
to become nugatory by easiness of evasion and uncertainty of meaning, —
nor so rigid as to demand in words more than the imposer wishes to exact,
and thus to ensnare the consciences of those who take it. The same
objections would apply to forms of affirmation. The only effectual
remedy is to diminish, or if it were possible to abolish, the custom of
requiring men to promise beforehand to pursue a certain course of action.
Hovy is non-fulfilment of these engagements punished? By fine, or
imprisonment, or some other mode of penalty ? Let the penalty, let the
sanction remain, without the promise or the oath. A man swears alle
giance to a prince : if he becomes a traitor he is punished, not for the
breach of his oath, but for his treason. Can you not punish his treason
without the oath ? A man swears he has not received a bribe at an
election. If he does receive one, you send him to prison. You could
as easily send him thither if he had not sworn. You reply, — But by
imposing the oath we bind the swearer's conscience. Alas, we have
seen, and we shall presently again see, that this plan of binding men
is of little effect. There is one kind of affirmation that appears to
involve absurdity. I mean that by which a man affirms that he will
speak the truth. Of what use is the affirmation ? The affirmant is not
bound to veracity more than he was before he made it. It is no greater
lie to speak falsely after an affirmation than before.
J60 OATH OF ALLEGIANCE— OATH IN EVIDENCE. [EssAt II.
OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. "I do sincerely promise and swear that I
will be faithful, and bear true allegiance, to his majesty King George."
On the propriety of exacting these political oaths we shall offer some
observations in the next Essay.* At present we askT What does the oath
of allegiance mean ? Set a hundred men each to write an exact account
of what the party here promises to do, and I will undertake to affirm that
not one in the hundred will agree with any other individual. " I will be
faithful :" What is meant by being faithful ? What is the extent of the
obligation, and what are its limits ? "I will bear true allegiance :" What
does allegiance mean ? Is it synonymous with fidelity ? Or does it
embrace a wider extent of obligation, or a narrower ? And if either,
how is the extent ascertained ? The oath was, I believe, made purposely
indefinite : the old oath of allegiance was more discriminative. But no
form can discriminate the duty of a citizen to his rulers, unless you make
it consist of a political treatise : and no man can write a treatise with
definitions to which all would subscribe. The truth is that no one knows
what the oath of allegiance requires. Paley attempts, in six separate
articles, to define its meaning: one of which definitions is, that "the oath
excludes all design at the time^ of attempting to depose the reigning
prince."! At the time ! Why the oath is couched in the future tense.
Its express purpose is to obtain a security for future conduct. The
swearer declares, not what he then designs, but what, in time to come, he
will do. Another definition is, "it permits resistance to the king when
his ill behaviour or imbecility is such as to make resistance beneficial to
the community."]; But how or in what manner " fidelity and true alle
giance" means " resistance," casuistry only can tell. We may rest assured
that after all attempts at explanation, the meaning of the oath will be, at
the least, as doubtful as before. Nor is there any remedy. The fault is
•not in the form, for no form can be good ; but in the imposition of any
oath of allegiance. The only means of avoiding the evil is by abolishing
<he oath. Besides, what do oaths of allegiance avail in those periods
of disturbance in which princes are commonly displaced? What revolu
tion has been prevented by oaths of allegiance I
Yet if the oath does no good, it does harm. It is always doing harm
(o exact promises from men who cannot know beforehand whether they
will fulfil them. And as to the ambiguity, it is always doing harm to
require men to stake their salvation upon doing — they know not what.
OATHS IN EVIDENCE. "The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but
the truth, touching the matter in question." Is the witness to understand
oy this that if he truly answers all questions that are put to him, he con
forms to the requisitions of the oath ? If he is, the terms of the oath are
very exceptionable ; for many a witness may give true answers to a
counsel, and yet not tell " the whole truth." Or does the oath bind him
to give an exact narrative of every particular connected with the matter
in question, whether asked or not? If it does, multitudes commit perjury.
How then shall a witness act ? Shall he commit perjury by withholding all
information but that which is asked ? Or shall he be ridiculed and perhaps
silenced in court for attempting to narrate all that he has sworn to disclose ?
Here again the morality of the people is injuriously affected. To take
an oath to do a certain prescribed act, and then to do only just that which
custom happens to prescribe, is to ensnare the conscience and practically
* Essay iii. c. 5. f Moral and Political Philosophy, b. 3, p. 1, c. 18.
CHAP 8.] MILITARY OATH. 161
to diminish the sanctions of veracity. The evil may be avoided either
by disusing all previous promises to speak the truth, or to adapt the terms
of the promise (if that can be done) to the duties which the law or which
custom expects. " You shall true answer make to all such questions as
shall be asked of you," is the form when a person is sworn upon a voir
dire ; and if this is all that the law expects when he is giving evidence,
why not use the same form? If however, in deference to the reasonings
against the use of any oaths, the oath in evidence were abolished, no
difficulty could remain ; for to promise in any form to speak the truth is,
as we have seen, absurd.
While the oath in evidence continues to be imposed, it is not an easy
task to determine in what sense the witness should understand it. If
you decide by the meaning of the legislature which imposed the oath, it
appears manifest that he should tell all he knows whether asked or not.
But what, it may be asked, is the meaning of a law, but that which the
authorized expounders of the law determine ? And if they habitually
admit an interpretation at variance with the terms of the oath, is not their
sanction an authoritative explanation of the legislature's meaning ? These
are questions which I pretend not with confidence to determine. The
mischiefs which result from the uncertainty are to be charged upon the
legislatures which do not remove the evil. I would hoxvever suggest
that the meaning of a form in such cases is to be sought, not so much in
the meaning of the original imposers, as in that of those who now sanc
tion the form by permitting it to exist. This doubtless opens wide the
door to extreme licentiousness of interpretation. Nor can that door be
closed. There is no other remedial measure than an alteration of the
forms or an abolition of the oath.
MILITARY OATH. " I swear to obey the orders of the officers who are
set over me : So help me God." And suppose an officer orders him to
do something which morality forbids, — his oath then stands thus : " I
swear to obey man rather than God." The profaneness is shocking.
Will any extenuation be offered, and will it be said that the military man
only swears to obey the virtuous orders of his superior ? We deny the
fact : the oath neither means nor is intended to mean any such thing.
It may indeed by possibility happen that an officer may order his inferior
to do a thing which a court-martial would not punish him for refusing to
do. But if the law intends to allow such exceptions, what excuse is
there for making the terms of the oath absolute ? Is it not teaching mili
tary men to swear they care not what, thus to make the terms of the
oath one thing and its meaning another ? But the real truth is, that nei
ther the law nor courts-martial allow any such limitations in the mean
ing of the oath as will bring it within the limits of morality, or of even
a decent reverence to Him who commands morality to man. They do
not intend to allow the moral law to be the primary rule to the soldier.
They intend the contrary : and the soldier does actually swear that if he
is ordered so to do, he will violate the law of God. Of this impiety
what is the use ? Does any one imagine that a soldier obeys his supe
riors because he has sworn to obey them ? It were ridiculous. When
courts-martial inflict a punishment, they inflict it, not for perjury, but for
disobedience.
I would devote two or three sentences to the observation that the mil*
itary oath is sui generis. So far at least as my information extends, no
other oath is imposed which promises unconditional obedience to other
L
162 BRIBERY— OATH AGAINST SIMONY. [ESSAY II.
men ; no other oath exists by which a man binds himself to violate the
laws of God. Why does the military oath thus stand alone, the explicit
contemner of the obligations of morality ? — Because it belongs to a cus
tom which itself contemns morality. Because it belongs to a custom
which " repeals all the principles of virtue." Because it belongs to war. —
There is a lesson couched in this, which he who has ears to hear will
find to be pregnant with instruction.
OATH AGAINST BRIBERY AT ELECTIONS. " I do swear I have not
received, or had, by myself or any person whatsoever in trust for me, or
for my use and benefit, directly or indirectly, any sum or sums of money ;
office, place, or employment ; gift or reward ; or any promise or security
for any money, office, employment, or gift, in order to give my vote at
this election." This is an attempt to secure incorruptness by extreme
accuracy in framing the oath. With what success public experience
tells. No bribery oath will prevent bribery. It wants efficient sanc
tions, — punishment by the law or reprobation by the public. A man
who possesses a vote in a close borough, and whose neighbours and their
fathers have habitually pocketed a bribe at every election, is very little
under the influence of public opinion. That public with which he is con
nected does not reprobate the act, and he learns to imagine it is of
little moral turpitude. As to legal penalties, they are too unfrequently
inflicted or too difficult of infliction to be of much avail. Why then is
this nursery of perjury continued ? Which action should we most depre
cate, that of the voter who perjures himself for a ten pound note, or that
of the legislator who so tempts him to perjury by imposing an oath
which he knows will be violated ? If bribery be wrong, punish it ; but
it is utterly indefensible to exact oaths which everybody knows will be
broken. Not indeed that any thing in the present state of the represent
ation will prevent bribery. We may multiply oaths and denounce pen
alties without end, yet bribery will still prevail. But though bribery be
inseparable from the system, perjury is not. We should abolish one of
the evils if we do not or cannot abolish both.
As to those endless contrivances by which electors avoid the arm of
the law, and hope to avoid the guilt of perjury, they are, as it respects
guilt, all and always vain. The intention of the legislature was to pre
vent bribery, and he who is bribed violates his oath whether he violates
its literal terms or not. The shopkeeper who sells a yard of cloth to a
candidate for twenty pounds is just as truly bribed, and he just as truly
commits perjury as if the candidate had said, I give you this twenty
pound note to tempt you to vote for me. These men may evade legal
penalties : there is a power which they cannot evade.
OATH AGAINST SIMONY. The substance of the oath is, " I do swear
that I have made no simoniacal payment for obtaining this ecclesiastical
place. So help me God through Jesus Christ !" The patronage of liv
ings, that is, the legal right to give a man the ecclesiastical income of a
parish, may, like other property, be bought and sold. But though a per
son may legally sell the power of giving the income, he may not sell
the income itself; the reason it may be presumed being, that a person
who can only give the income will be more likely to bestow it upon such
a clergyman as deserves it, than if he sold it to the highest bidder. It
may however be observed in passing, that the security for the judicious
presentation for church preferment is extremely imperfect ; for the law,
while it tries to take care that preferment shall be properly bestowed,
.J UNIVERSITY OATHS. 163
takes no care hat the power of bestowing it shall be intrusted to proper
hands. The least virtuous man or woman in a district may possess this
power ; and it were vain to expect thai they will be very solicitous to
assign careful shepherds to the Christian flocks.
To prevent the income from being bought and sold, the law requires the
accepter of a living to swear that he has made no simoniacal payment
for it. What then is simony ? To answer this question the clergyman
must have recourse to the definitions of the law. Simony is of various
kinds, and the clergyman who is under strong temptation to make some
Contract with or payment to the patron, is manifestly in danger of making
them in the fearing, doubting hope, that they are not simoniacal.
And so he makes the arrangement, hardly knowing whether he has com
mitted simony and perjury or not. This evil is seen and acknowledged :
" The oath," says a dignitary of the church, *' lays a snare for the integ
rity of the clergy ; and I do not perceive that the requiring of it in cases
of private patronage produces any good effect sufficient to compensate
for this danger."
UNIVERSITY OATHS. The various statutes of colleges, of which every
member is obliged to promise the observance on oath, are become wholly
or partly obsolete ; some are needless and absurd, some illegal, and to
some, perhaps, it is impossible to conform. Yet the oath to perform
them is constantly taken. A man swears that he will speak, within the
college, no language but Latin; and he speaks English in it every day.
He swears he will employ so many hours out of every twenty-four in dispu
tations; and does not dispute for days or weeks together. What remains
then for those who take these oaths to do ? To show that this is not
perjury. Here is the field for casuistry ! Here is the field in which
ingenuity may exhibit its adroitness ! in which sophistry may delight to
range ! in which Duns Scotus, if he were again in the world, might
rejoice to be a combatant ! — And what do ingenuity, and casuistry, and
sophistry do ? Oh ! they discover consolatory truths ; they discover that
if the act which you promise to perform is unlawful, you may swear to
perform it with an easy conscience ; they discover that there is no harm
in swearing to jump from Dover to Calais, because it is " impracticable;"
they discover that it is quite proper to swear to do a foolish thing
because it would be "manifestly inconvenient" and "prejudicial" to do
it. — In a word, they discover so many agreeable things, that if the book
of Cervantes were appended to the oath, they might swear to imitate all
the deeds of his hero, and yet remain quietly and innocently in a college
all their lives.
That nothing can be said in extenuation of those who take these oaths
cannot be affirmed ; yet that the taking them is wrong, every man who
simply consults his own heart will know. Even if they were wrong
upon no other ground they would be so upon this — that if men were con
scientious enough to refuse to take them, the " necessity" for taking
them would soon be withdrawn. No man questions that these oaths are
a scandal to religion and to religious men ; no man questions that their
tendency is to make the public think lightly of the obligation of an oath.
They ought therefore to be abolished. It. is imperative upon the legis
lature to abolish them, and it is imperative upon the individual, by refus
ing to take them, to evince to the legislature the necessity for its inter
ference. Nothing is wanted but that private Christians should maintain
Christian fidelity. If they did do this, and refused to take these oaths,
L2
164 SUBSCRIPTION TO ARTICLES OF RELIGION. [ESSAY If.
the legislature would presently do its duty. It needs not be feared that
it would suffer the doors of the colleges to be locked up, because stu
dents were too conscientious to swear falsely. Thus, although the obli
gation upon the legislature is manifest, it possesses some semblance of
an excuse for refraining from reform, since those who are immediately
aggrieved, and who are the immediate agents of the offence, are so little
concerned that they do not address even a petition for interference. That
some good men feel aggrieved is scarcely to be doubted : let these
remember their obligations : let them remember, that compliance entails
upon posterity the evil and the offence, and sets, for the integrity of suc
cessors, a perpetual snare.
It is an unhappy reflection that men endeavour rather to pacify the mis
giving voice of conscience under a continuance of the evil, than exert
themselves to remove it. Unschooled persons will always think that the
usage is wrong. In truth, even after the licentious interpretations of the
oaths have been resorted to, — after it has been shown what he who takes
them does not promise, what imaginable security is there that he will
perform that which he does promise, — that he will even know what he
promises ? None. Being himself the interpreter of the oath, and having
resolved that the oath does not mean what it says, he is at liberty to
think that it means any thing ; or, which I suppose is the practical opin
ion, that it means nothing. — If we would remove the evil we must abol
ish the oath.
SUBSCRIPTION TO ARTICLES OF RELIGION.
Bishop Clayton said, " I do not only doubt whether the compilers of
the Articles, but even whether any two thinking men, ever agreed exactly
in their opinion, not only with regard to all the Articles, but even with
regard to any one of them."* Such is the character of that series of
propositions in which a man is required to declare his belief before he
can become a minister in a Christian community. The event may easily
be foreseen : some will refuse to subscribe ; some will subscribe though
it violates their consciences ; some will subscribe regardless whether it be
right or wrong ; and some of course will be found to justify subscription.
Of those who on moral grounds refuse to subscribe to that which they
do not believe, it may be presumed that they are conscientious men, —
men who prefer sacrificing their interests to their duties. These are
the men whom every Christian church should especially desire to retain
in its communion ; and these are precisely the men whom the Articles
exclude from the English church.
As it respects those who perceive the impropriety of subscription and
yet subscribe, whose consciences are wronged by the very act which
introduces them into the church, — the evil is manifest and great. Chil-
lingworth declared to Shelden that " if he subscribed, he subscribed his
own damnation," yet not long afterward Chillingworth was induced to
subscribe. Unhappy, that they who are about to preach virtue to others
should be initiated by a violation of the moral law !
With respect to those who subscribe heedlessly and without regard to
their belief or disbelief of the Articles, — of what use is subscription ? It
* Confessional, 3d. Ed. p. 246.
CHAP. 8.] MEANING OF THE THIRTY-NINE ARTICLES. 165
is designed to operate as a test, but what test is it to him who would set
his name to the Articles if they were exactly the contrary of what they
are ? If conscientiousness keeps some men out of the church, the want
of conscientiousness lets others in. The contrivance is admirably adapted
to an end ; — but to what end ? To the separation of the more virtuous
from the less, and to the admission of the latter.
A reader who was a novice in these affairs would ask, in wonder, for
what purpose is subscription exacted ? If the Articles are so objection
able, and if subscription is productive of so much evil, why are not the
Articles revised, or why is subscription required at all ? These are rea
sonable questions. They involve, however, political considerations ;
and in the Political Essay we hope to give such an inquirer satisfaction
respecting them.
And with respect to the justifications that are offered of subscribing to
doctrines which are not believed, it is manifest that they must set out
with the assumption that the words of the Articles mean nothing, — that
we are not to seek for their meaning in their terms but in some other
quarter. It is hardly necessary to remark, that when this assumption is
made, the inquirer is launched upon a boundless ocean, and though he
has to make his way to a port, possesses neither compass nor helm, and
can see neither sun nor star. Who can assign any limit to license
of interpretation when it is once agreed that the words themselves
mean nothing? The world is all before us, and we have to seek a place
of rest from Pyrrhonism wherever we can find it. We are told to go
back to Queen Elizabeth's days, and to find out, if we can, what the
legislature who framed the Articles meant : always premising that we
are not to judge of what they meant by what they said. How is it dis
covered that they did not mean what they said ? By a process of most
convincing argumentation ; which argumentation consists in this, " It is
difficult to conceive how" they could have meant it !* These are agree
able and convenient solutions ; but they are not true.
" They who contend that nothing less can justify subscription to the
Thirty-nine Articles than the actual belief of each and every separate
proposition contained in them, must suppose that the legislature expected
the consent of ten thousand men, and that in perpetual succession, not to
one controverted proposition, but to many hundreds. It is difficult to
conceive how this could be expected by any who observed the incurable
diversity of human opinion upon all subjects short of demonstration.''!
Now it appears that the legislature of Elizabeth actually did require uni
formity of opinion upon these controverted points. Such has been the
decision of the judges. " One Smyth subscribed to the said Thirty-
nine Articles of religion with this addition, — so far forth as the same were
agreeable to the Word of God ; and it was resolved by Wray, chief justice
in the King's Bench, and all the judges of England, that this subscrip
tion was not according to the statute of 13th Eliz. Because the statute
required an absolute subscription, and this subscription made it condi
tional : and that this act was made for avoiding diversity of opinions, &c. ;
and by this addition the party might, by his own private opinion, take
some of them to be against the Word of God, and by this means diversity
of opinions should not be avoided, which was the scope of the statute ; and
the very act made touching subscription, of none effect. WJ
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 22. f Ibid % Coke : Instit. 4, cap, 74, p. 324
166 REFUSAL TO SUBSCRIBE. [ESSAY II.
This overthrows the convenient explanations of modern times. It is
agreed by those who offer these explanations, that the meaning of Eliza
beth's legislature is that by which they are bound. That meaning, then,
is declared by all the judges of England to be, that subscribers should
believe the propositions of the Articles. The modern explanations allow
private opinion the liberty of thinking some of them to be " against the
Word of God." This was precisely the liberty which the legislature
intended to preclude. The modern explanations affirm the Articles to
be conditional, and, in fact, that they impose only a few general obliga
tions ; but unconditional subscription was the very thing which the legis
lature required. If a person should now express the condition which
Smyth, as reported by Coke, expressed, and should say, I believe the
Articles so far as they are accordant with Christian truth, — it appears that
his subscription would not be accepted ; and yet this is what is done by
perhaps every clergyman in England, — with this difference only, that the
reservation is secretly made, and not frankly expressed. So that in
reality, and according to the principles laid down by the apologists of
subscription,* almost every subscriber subscribes falsely.
But what, it will be asked, is to be done ? Refuse to subscribe.
There is no other means of maintaining your purity, and perhaps no
other means of procuring an abolition of the Articles. At least this
means would be effectual. We may be sure that the legislature would
revise or abolish them, if it was found that no one would subscribe.
They would not leave the pulpits empty, in compliment to a barbarous
relic of the days of Elizabeth. Perhaps it will be said, that although
men of virtue refused to subscribe, the pulpits would still be filled with
unprincipled men. The effect would speedily be the same : the legis
lature would not continue to impose subscription for the sake of excluding
from the ministry all but bad men. Those who subscribe, therefore,
bind the burden upon their own shoulders and upon the shoulders of pos
terity. The offence is great : the scandal to religion is great : and
even if refusal to subscribe would not remove the evil, the question for
the individual is, not what may be the consequences of doing his duty,
but what his duty is. We want a little more Christian fidelity ; a little
more of that spirit which made our forefathers prefer the stake to tam
pering with their consciences.
* These principles are, that the meaning of a promise or an oath is to be determined by
the meaning of those who impose it. This, as a general rule, is true ; but I repeat the
doubt whether, in the case of antiquated forms, a proper standard of their meaning is not to
be sought in the intention of the legislatures which now perpetuate those forms. This
doubt, however, in whatever way it preponderates, .will not afford a justification of sub
scribing to forms of which the terms are notoriously disregarded.
£,HAP. 9.j IMMORAL AGEHCY. 167
.••? *?." •'
CHAPTER IX.
IMMORAL AGENCY.
A GREAT portion of the moral evil in the world is the result, not so
much of the intensity of individual wickedness, as of a general incom
pleteness in the practical virtue of all classes of men. If it were possi
ble to take away misconduct from one half of the community and to add
its amount to the remainder, it is probable that the moral character of
our species would be soon benefited by the change. Now, the ill dispo
sitions of the bad are powerfully encouraged by the want of upright
examples in those who are better. A man may deviate considerably from
rectitude, and still be as good as his neighbours. From such a man, the
motive to excellence which the constant presence of virtuous example
supplies is taken away. So that there is reason to believe, that if the
bad were to become worse, and the reputable to become proportionably
better, the average virtue of the world would speedily be increased.
One of the modes by which the efficacy of example in reputable per
sons is miserably diminished is by what we have called Immoral Agency,
— by their being willing to encourage, at second-hand, evils which they
would not commit as principals. Linked together as men are in society,
it is frequently difficult to perform an unwarrantable action without some
sort of co-operation from creditable men. This co-operation is not often,
except in flagrant cases, refused ; and thus not only is the commission of
such actions facilitated, but a general relaxation is induced in the prac
tical estimates which men form of the standard of rectitude.
Since then so much evil attends this agency in unwarrantable conduct,
it manifestly becomes a good man to look around upon the nature of his
intercourse with others, and to consider whether he is not virtually pro
moting evils which his judgment deprecates, or reducing the standard of
moral judgment in the world. The reader would have no difficulty in
perceiving that if a strenuous opponent of the slave-trade should establish
a manufactory of manacles, and thumb-screws, and iron collars for the
slave merchants, he would be grossly inconsistent with himself. The
reader would perceive, too, that his labours in the cause of the abolition
would be almost nullified by the viciousness of his example, and that he
would generally discredit pretensions to philanthropy. Now that which
we desire the reader to do is, to apply the principles which this illustration
exhibits to other and less flagrant cases. Other cases of co-operation
with evil may be less flagrant than this, but they are not, on that account,
innocent. I have read, in the life of a man of great purity of character,
that he refused to draw up a will, or some such document, because it con
tained a transfer of some slaves. He thought that slavery was absolutely
wrong ; and therefore would not, even by the remotest implication, sanc
tion the system by his example.* I think he exercised a sound Chris-
* One of the publications of this excellent man contains a paragraph much to our present
purpose : " In all our concerns, it is necessary that nothing we do may carry the appear
ance of approbation of the works of wickedness, make the unrighteous more at ease in
unrighteousness, or occasion the injuries committed against the oppressed to be more lightly
looked over,"— Contiderations on the true Harmony of Mankind, c. 3, by John Woolman.
168 INJURIOUS BOOKS. [ESSAY II.
tian judgment ; and if all who prepare such documents acted upon the
same principles, I know not whether they would not so influence public
opinion as greatly to hasten the abolition of slavery itself. Yet where
is the man who would refuse to do this, or to do things even less defen
sible than this ?
PUBLICATION AND CIRCULATION OF BOOKS. It is a very common thing
to hear of the evils of pernicious reading, of how it enervates the mind,
or how it depraves the principles. The complaints are doubtless just.
These books could not be read, and these evils would be spared the
world, if one did not write, and another did not print, and another did not
sell, and another did not circulate them. Are those then without whose
agency the mischief could not ensue to be held innocent in affording this
agency? Yet, loudly as we complain of the evil, and carefully as we
warn our children to avoid it, how seldom do we hear public reprobation
of the writers ! As to printers, and booksellers, and library keepers, we
scarcely hear their offences mentioned at all. We speak not of those
abandoned publications which all respectable men condemn, but of those
which, pernicious as they are confessed to be, furnish reading-rooms and
libraries, and are habitually sold in almost every bookseller's shop.
Seneca says, "He that lends a man money to carry him to a bawdy-
house, or a weapon for his revenge, makes himself a partner of his crime."
He too who writes or sells a book which will, in all probability, injure the
reader, is accessory to the mischief which may be done : with this
aggravation, when compared with the examples of Seneca, that while
the money would probably do mischief but to one or two persons, the
book may injure a hundred or a thousand. Of the writers of injurious
books we need say no more. If the inferior agents are censurable, the
primary agent must be more censurable. A printer or a bookseller should
however reflect, that to be not so bad as another is a very different thing
from being innocent. When we see that the owner of a press will print
any work that is offered to him, with no other concern about its tendency
than whether it will subject him to penalties from the law, we surely
must perceive that he exercises but a very imperfect virtue. Is it obli
gatory upon us not to promote ill principles in other men ? He does not
fulfil the obligation. Is it obligatory upon us to promote rectitude by
unimpeachable example? He does not exhibit that example. If it were
right for my neighbour to furnish me with the means of moral injury, it
would not be wrong for me to accept and to employ them.
I stand in a bookseller's shop, and observe his customers successively
coming in. One orders a lexicon, and one a work of scurrilous infidel
ity : one Captain Cook's Voyages, and one a new licentious romance.
If the bookseller takes and executes all these orders with the same will
ingness, I cannot but perceive that there is an inconsistency, an incom
pleteness, in his moral principles of action. Perhaps this person is so
conscious of the mischievous effects of such books, that he would not
allow them in the hands of his children, nor suffer them to be seen on
his parlour-table. But if he thus knows the evils which they inflict,
can it be right for him to be the agent in diffusing them ? Such a person
does not exhibit that consistency, that completeness of virtuous conduct,
without which the Christian character cannot be fully exhibited. Step
into the shop of this bookseller's neighbour, a druggist, and there, if a
person asks for some arsenic, the tradesman begins to be anxious. He
considers whether it is probable the buyer wants it for a proper purpose.
CHAP. 9.] INJURIOUS BOOKS—CIRCULATING LIBRARIES. 169
If he does sell it, he cautions the buyer to keep it where others cannot
have access to it; and before he delivers the packet legibly inscribes
upon it, Poison. One of these men sells poison to the body, and the other
poison to the mind. If the anxiety and caution of the druggist is right,
the indifference of the bookseller must be wrong. Add to which, that
the druggist would not sell arsenic at all if it were not sometimes use
ful ; but to what readers can a vicious book be useful ?
Suppose for a moment that no printer would commit such a book to
his press, and that no bookseller would sell it, the consequence would
be that nine-tenths of these manuscripts would be thrown into the fire, or
rather that they would never have been written. The inference is ob
vious ; and surely it is not needful again to enforce the consideration
that although your refusal might not prevent vicious books from being
published, you are not therefore exempted from the obligation to refuse.
A man must do his duty, whether the effects of his fidelity be such as he
would desire or not. Such purity of conduct might no doubt circumscribe
a man's business, and so does purity of conduct in some other profes
sions : but if this be a sufficient excuse for contributing to demoralize
the world, if profit be a justification of a departure from rectitude, it will
be easy to defend the business of a pickpocket.
I know that the principles of conduct which these paragraphs recom
mend lead to grave practical consequences : I know that they lead to the
conclusion that the business of a printer or bookseller, as it is ordinarily
conducted, is not consistent with Christian uprightness. A man may
carry on a business in select works ; and this, by some conscientious
persons, is really done. In the present state of the press, the difficulty
of obtaining a considerable business as a bookseller without circulating
injurious works may frequently be great, and it is in consequence of this
difficulty that we see so few booksellers among the Quakers. The few
who do conduct the business generally reside in large towns, where the
demand for all books is so great that a person can procure a competent
income though he excludes the bad.
He who is more studious to justify his conduct than to act aright may
say that if a person may sell no book that can injure another, he can
scarcely sell any book. The answer is, that although there must be
some difficulty in discrimination, though a bookseller cannot always
inform himself what the precise tendency of a book is, — yet there can
be no difficulty in judging, respecting numberless books, that their tend
ency is bad. If we cannot define the precise distinction between the
good and the evil, we can nevertheless perceive the evil when it has
attained to a certain extent. He who cannot distinguish day from
evening can distinguish it from night.
The case of the proprietors of common circulating libraries is yet
more palpable ; because the majority of the books which they contain
inflict injury upon their readers. How it happens that persons of respect
able character, and who join with others in lamenting the frivolity, and
worse than frivolity, of the age, nevertheless daily and hourly contribute
to the mischief without any apparent consciousness of inconsistency, it
is difficult to explain. A person establishes, perhaps, one of these libra
ries for the first time in a country town. He supplies the younger and
less busy part of its inhabitants with a source of moral injury from which
hitherto they had been exempt. The girl who till now possessed sober
views of life, he teaches to dream of the extravagances of love ; h«
170 DRUNKENNESS— PROSECUTIONS. [ESSAY II.
familiarizes her ideas with intrigue and licentiousness ; destroys her dis
position for rational pursuits ; and prepares her, it may be, for a victim
of debauchery. These evils, or such as these, he inflicts, not upon one
or two, but upon as many as he can ; and yet this person lays his head
upon his pillow as if. in all this, he was not offending against virtue or
against man !
INNS. When in passing the door of an inn I hear or see a company
of intoxicated men in the ** excess of riot," I cannot persuade myself that
he who supplies the wine and profits by the viciousness is a moral man.
In the private house of a person of respectability such a scene would be
regarded as a scandal. It would lower his neighbour's estimate of the
excellence of his character. But does it then constitute a sufficient
justification of allowing vice in our houses, that we get by it ? Does
morality grant to a man an exemption from its obligations, at the same
time as he procures his license ? Drunkenness is immoral. If there
fore when a person is on the eve of intoxication, the innkeeper supplies
his demand for another bottle, he is accessory to the immorality. A
man was lately found drowned in a stream. He had just left a public-
house, where he had been intoxicated during sixty hours ; and within this
time the publican had supplied him (besides some spirits) with forty
quarts of ale. Does any reader need to be convinced that this publican
had acted criminally ? — His crime however was neither the greater nor
the less because it had been the means of loss of life : no such accident
might have happened ; but his guilt would have been the same.
Probity is not the only virtue which it is good policy to practise. The
innkeeper, of whom it was known that he would not supply the means
of excess, would probably gain by the resort of those who approved his
integrity, more than he would lose by the absence of those whose excesses
that integrity kept away. An inn has been conducted upon such maxims.
He who is disposed to make proof of the result, might fix upon an estab
lished quantity of the different liquors, which he would not exceed. If
that quantity were determinately fixed, the lover of excess would have
no ground of complaint when he had been supplied to its amount. Such
honourable and manly conduct might have an extensive effect, until it
influenced the practice even of the lower resorts of intemperance. A
sort of ill fame might attach to the house in which a man could become
drunk ; and the maxim might be established by experience, that it was
necessary to the respectability, and therefore generally to the success,
of a public-house, that none should be seen to reel out of its doors.
PROSECUTIONS. It is upon principles of conduct similar to those
which are here recommended, that many persons are reluctant, and some
refuse, to prosecute offenders when they think the penalty of the law is
unwarrantably severe. This motive operates in our own country to a
great extent : and it ought to operate. I should not think it right to give
evidence against a man who had robbed my house, if I knew that my
evidence would occasion him to be hanged. Whether the reader may think
similarly is of no consequence to the principle. The principle is, that
if you think the end vicious and wrong, you are guilty of " immoral
agency" in contributing to effect that end. Unhappily, we are much less
willing to act upon this principle when our agency produces only moral
evil than when it produces physical suffering. He that would not give
evidence which would take a man's life, or even occasion him loss of pain,
would with little hesitation be an agent of injuring his moral principles •
CHAP. g.] POLITICAL AGENCY. 171
and yet perhaps the evil of the latter case is incomparably greater than
that of the former.
POLITICAL AFFAIRS. The amount of immoral agency which is prac
tised in these affairs is very great. Look to any of the continental
governments, or to any that have subsisted there : how few acts of mis
rule, of oppression, of injustice, and of crime have been prevented by
the want of agents of the iniquity ! I speak not of notoriously bad men :
of these, bad governors can usually find enough : but I speak of men
who pretend to respectability and virtue of character, and who are actually
called respectable by the world. There is perhaps no class of affairs in
which the agency of others is more indispensable to the accomplishment
of a vicious act than in the political. Very little — comparatively very
little of — oppression and of the political vices of rulers should we see, if
reputable men did not lend their agency. These evils could not be com
mitted through the agency of merely bad men ; because the very fact that
bad men only would abet them, would frequently preclude the possibility of
their commission. It is not to be pretended that no public men possess or
have possessed sufficient virtue to refuse to be the agents of a vicious
government, — but they are few. If they were numerous, especially if they
were as numerous as they ought to be, history, even very modern history,
would have had a far other record to frame than that which now devolves
to her. Can it be needful to argue upon such things ? Can it be need
ful to prove that neither the commands of ministers, nor t; systems of
policy," nor any other circumstance, exempts a public man from the
obligations of the moral law ? Public men often act as if they thought
that to be a public man was to be brought under the jurisdiction of a
new and a relaxed morality. They often act as if they thought that not
to be the prime mover in political misdeeds was to be exempt from all
moral responsibility for those deeds. A dagger, if it could think, would
think it was not responsible for the assassination of which it was the
agent. A public man may be a political dagger, but he cannot, like the
dagger, be irresponsible.
These illustrations of Immoral Agency, and of the obligation to avoid
it, might be multiplied, if enough had not been offered to make our sen
timents, cmd the reasons upon which they are founded, obvious to the
reader. Undoubtedly, in the present state of society, it is no easy task,
upon these subjects, to wash our hands in innocency. But if we cannot
avoid all agency, direct or indirect, in evil things, we can avoid much ;
and it will be sufficiently early to complain of the difficulty of complete
purity, when we have dismissed from our conduct as much impurity as
we can.
17?, PUBI 1C NOTIONS OF MORALITY.
CHAPTER X.
THE INFLUENCE OF INDIVIDUALS UPON PUBLIC NOTIONS OF MORALITY.
THAT the influence of public opinion upon the practice of virtue is
very great needs no proof. Of this influence the reader has seen some
remarkable illustrations in the discussion of the efficacy of oaths in bind
ing to veracity. * There is indeed almost no action and no institution
which public opinion does not affect. In moral affairs it makes men call
one mode of human destruction murderous and one honourable ; it makes
the same action abominable in one individual and venial in another : in
public institutions, from a village workhouse to the constitution of a state,
it is powerful alike for evil or for good. If it be misdirected it will
strengthen and perpetuate corruption and abuse ; if it be directed aright,
it will eventually remove corruptions and correct abuses, with a power
which no power can withstand.
In proportion to the greatness of its power is the necessity of rectify
ing public opinion itself. To contribute to its rectitude is to exercise
exalted philanthropy, — to contribute to its incorrectness is to spread
wickedness and misery in the world. The purpose of the present chapter
is to remark upon some of those subjects- on which the public opinion
appears to be inaccurate, and upon the consequent obligation upon
individuals not to perpetuate that inaccuracy and its attendant evils by
their conduct or their language. Of the positive part of the obligation, —
that which respects the active correction of common opinions, — little will
be said. He who does not promote the evil can scarcely fail of pro
moting the good. A man often must deliver his sentiments respecting
the principles and actions of others ; and if he delivers them so as not to
encourage what is wrong, he will practically encourage what is right.
It might have been presumed, of a people who assent to the authority
of the moral law, that their notions of the merit or turpitude of actions
would have been conformable with the doctrines which that law delivers.
Far other is the fact. The estimates of the moral law and of public
opinion arc discordant to excess. Men have practised a sort of transposi
tion with the moral precepts, and have assigned to them arbitrary and
capricious, and therefore new and mischievous, stations on the moral
scale. The order both of the vices and the virtues is greatly deranged.
Suppose, with respect to vices, the highest degree of reprobation in
the moral law to be indicated by 20, and to descend by units as the rep
robation became less severe, and suppose in the same manner we put
20 for the highest offence according to popular opinion, and diminish the
number as it accounts less of the offence, we should probably be pre
sented with some such graduation as this : —
* Essay ii. chap. 7.
CHAP. 10.] ERRORS OF PUBLIC OPINION. 173
Moral Public
Law. Opinion.
Murder - - - - 20 . . 20
Human destruction under other names 13..
Unchastity, if of Women 18 . . 18
Unchastity, if of Men 18 ..
Theft 17 . . 17
Fraud and other modes of dishonesty 17 . . 6 — 4 or 1
Lying 17 . . 17
Lying for particular purposes, or to > n 2_or Q
particular classes of persons J
Resentment 16 .. 6 and every inferior gradation.
Profaneness 15 .. 12 and every inferior gradation.
We might make a similar statement of the virtues. This indeed is
inevitable in the case of those virtues which are the opposites of some of
these vices. Respecting others we may say —
Moral Public
Law. Opinion.
Forbearance 16 .. 3 and lapsing into a vice.
Fortitude 16 . . 10
Courage 14 . . 14
Bravery 1 . . 20
Patriotism 2 . . 20
Placability 18 .. 4
How, it may reasonably be asked, do these strange incongruities
arise ? First, men practise a sort of voluntary deception on themselves :
they persuade themselves to think that an offence which they desire to
commit is not so vicious as the moral law indicates, or as others to
which they have little temptation. They persuade themselves, again,
that a virtue which is easily practised is of great worth, because they
thus flatter themselves with complacent notions of their excellences at
a cheap rate. Virtues which are difficult they for the same reason de
preciate. This is the dictate of interest. It is manifestly good policy
to think lightly of the value of a quality which we do not choose to be
at the cost of possessing ; and who would willingly think there was much
evil in a vice which he practised every day ? — That which a man thus
persuades himself to think a trivial vice or an unimportant virtue, he of
course speaks of as such among his neighbours. They perhaps are as
much interested in propagating the delusion as he : they listen with
willing ears, and cherish and proclaim the grateful falsehood. By these
and by other means the public notions become influenced ; a long con
tinuance of the general chicanery at length actually confounds the pub
lic opinion ; and when once an opinion has become a public opinion,
there is no difficulty in accounting for the perpetuation of the fallacy.
If sometimes the mind of an individual recurs to the purer standard, a
multitude of obstacles present themselves to its practical adoption. He
hopes that under the present circumstances of society an exact obe
dience to the moral law is not required ; he tries to think that the no
tions of a kingdom or a continent cannot be so erroneous : and at any
rate trusts that as he deviates with millions, millions will hardly be held
guilty at the bar of God. — The misdirection of public opinion is an
obstacle to the virtue even of good men. He who looks beyond the
notions of others, and founds his moral principles upon the moral law, yet
feels that it is more difficult to conform to that law when he is discoun
tenanced by the general notions, than if those notions supported and
encouraged him. What then must the effect of such misdirection be
174 PUBLIC NOTIONS OF DUELLING [ESSAY II.
upon those to whom acceptance in the world is the principal concern,
and who, if others applaud or smile, seem to be indifferent whether their
own hearts condemn them ?
Now, with a participation in the evils which the misdirection of public
opinion occasions every one is chargeable who speaks of moral actions
according to a standard that varies from that which Christianity has
exhibited. Here is the cause of the evil, and here must be its remedy.
" It is an important maxim in morals, as well as in education, to call
things by their right names."* " To bestow good names on bad things
is to give them a passport in the world under a delusive disguise. "t
'* The soft names and plausible colours under which deceit, sensuality,
and revenge are presented to us in common discourse, weaken by de
grees our natural sense of the distinction between good and evil."|
Public notions of morality constitute a sort of line of demarkation which
is regarded by most men in their practice as a boundary between
right and wrong. He who contributes to fix this boundary in the wrong
place, who places evil on the side of virtue, or goodness on the side of
vice, offends more deeply against the morality and the welfare of the
world than multitudes who are punished by the arm of law. If moral
offences are to be estimated by their consequences, few will be found so
deep as that of habitually giving good names to bad things. § It is well
indeed for the responsibility of individuals that their contribution to the
aggregate mischief is commonly small. Yet every man should remem
ber that it is by the contribution of individuals that the aggregate is
formed ; and that it can only be by the deductions of individuals that it
will be done away.
DUELLING. If two boys who disagreed about a game of marbles or a
penny tart should therefore walk out by the river side, quietly take off
their clothes, and when they had got into the water, each try to keep
the other's head down until one of them was drowned, we should doubt
less think that these two boys were mad. If when the survivor returned
to his schoolfellows, they patted him on the shoulder, told him he was a
spirited fellow, and that if he had not tried the feat in the water, they
would never have played at marbles or any other game with him again,
we should doubtless think that these boys were infected with a most
revolting and disgusting depravity and ferociousness. We should in
stantly exert ourselves to correct their principles, and should feel assured
that nothing could ever induce us to tolerate, much less to encourage,
such abandoned depravity. — And yet we do both tolerate and encourage
such depravity every day. Change the penny tart for some other trifle ;
instead of boys put men, and instead of a river a pistol, — and we encour
age it all. We virtually pat the survivor's shoulder, tell him he is a man
of honour, and that if he had not shot at his acquaintance, we would
never have dined with him again. u Revolting and disgusting depravity"
* Rees's Encyclpp. Art. Philos. Moral. f Knox's Essays, No. 34. t Blair, Serm. 9.
() Dr. Carpenter insists upon similar truths, upon somewhat different subjects. " If children
hear us express as much approbation, and in the same terms, of the skill of a gentleman coach-
driver, of the abilities of a philosophical lecturer, and of an individual who has just performed
an elevated act of disinterested virtue, is it possible that they should not feel great confusion
of ideas ? If each is termed a noble fellow, and with the same emphasis and animation, how
can the youthful understanding calculate with sufficient accuracy so as to appreciate the im
port of the expression in the same way that we should do ?" — Principles of Education — " Con-
CHAP. 10.] DUELLING. 176
are at once excluded from our vocabulary. We substitute sucn phrases
as " the course which a gentleman is obliged to pursue," — ** it was
necessary to his honour," — " one could not have associated with him if
he had not fought." We are the schoolboys, grown up ; and by the
absurdity, and more th?ri absurdity, of our phrases and actions, shooting
or drowning (it matters not which) becomes the practice of the national
school.
It is not a trifling question that a man puts to himself when he asks,
What is the amount of my contribution to this detestable practice ? It is
by individual contributions to the public notions respecting it that the
practice is kept up. Men do not fire at one another because they are
fond of risking their own lives or other men's, but because public notions
are such as they are. Nor do I think any deduction can be more mani
festly just than that he who contributes to the misdirection of these notions
is responsible for a share of the evil and the guilt. — When some offence has
given probability to a duel, every man acts immorally who evinces any
disposition to coolness with either party until he has resolved to fight ; and if
eventually one of them falls, he is a party to his destruction. Every word
of unfriendliness, every look of indifference, is positive guilt ; for it is such
words and such looks that drive men to their pistols. It is the same after
a victim has fallen. " I pity his family, but they have the consolation of
knowing that he vindicated his honour," is equivalent to urging another
and another to fight. Every heedless gossip who asks, " Have you heard
of this affair of honour?" and every reporter of news who relates it as a
proper and necessary procedure, participates in the general crime.
If they who hear of an intended meeting among their friends hasten to
manifest that they will continue their intercourse with the parties though
they do not fight, — if none talks of vindicating honour by demanding
satisfaction, — if he who speaks and he who writes of this atrocity, speaks
and writes as reason and morals dictate, duelling will soon disappear
from the world. To contribute to the suppression of the custom is there
fore easy, and let no man, and let no woman, who does not, as occasion
offers, express reprobation of the custom, think that their hands are clear
of blood. — They especially are responsible for its continuance whose
station or general character gives peculiar influence to their opinions in
its favour. What then are we to think of the conduct of a British judge
who encourages it from the bench ? A short time ago a person was tried
on the Perth circuit for murder, having killed another in a duel. The
evidence of the fact was undisputed. Before the verdict was pronounced
the judge is said to have used these words in his address to the jury:
44 The character you have heard testified by so many respectable and
intelligent gentlemen this day is as high as is possible for man to receive,
and I consider that throughout this affair the panel has acted up to it." So
that it is laid down from the bench that the man who shoots another
through the heart for striking him with an umbrella acts up to the highest
possible character of man ! The prisoner, although every one knew he
had killed the deceased, was acquitted ; and the judge is reported to have
addressed him thus : " You must be aware that the only duty I have to
perform is to dismiss you from that bar with a character unsullied."* If
the judge's language be true, Christianity is an idle fiction. Who will
wonder at the continuance of duelling — who will wonder that upon this
* The trial is reported in the Caledonian Mercury of Sept. 25, 1826.
176 PUBLIC OPINION— GLORY. [ESSAY II.
subject the moral law is disregarded — if we are to be told that "unsullied
character," — nay, that " the highest possible character of man," is com
patible with trampling Christianity under our feet ?
How happy would it be for our country and for the world, how truly
glorious for himself, if the king would act towards the duellist as his
mother acted towards women who had lost their reputation. She rigidly
excluded them from her presence. If the British monarch refused to
allow the man who had fought a duel to approach him, it is probable that
ere long duelling would be abolished, not merely in this country but in
the Christian world. Nor will true Christian respect be violated by the
addition, that in proportion to the power of doing good is the responsi
bility for omitting it.
GLORY : MILITARY VIRTUES. To prove that war is an evil were much
the same as to prove that the light of the sun is a good. And yet, though
no one will dispute the truth, there are few who consider and few who
know how great the evil is. The practice is encircled with so many
glittering fictions, that most men are content with but a vague and inade
quate idea of the calamities, moral, physical, and political, which it
inflicts upon our species. But ii lew men consider how prodigious its
mischiefs are, they see enough to agree in the conclusion that the less
frequently it happens the better for the common interests of man. Sup
posing then that some wars are lawful and unavoidable, it is nevertheless
manifest that whatever tends to make them more frequent than necessity
requires must be very pernicious to mankind. Now in consequence of
a misdirection of public notions, this needless frequency exists. Public
opinion is favourable, not so much to war in the abstract or in practice,
as to the profession of arms ; and the inevitable consequence is this, that
war itself is greatly promoted without reference to the causes for which
it may be undertaken. By attaching notions of honour to the military
profession, and of glory to military achievements, three wars probably have
been occasioned where there otherwise would have been but one. To
talk of the " splendours of conquest," and the ** glories of victory," to
extol those who "fall covered with honour in their country's cause," is to
occasion the recurrence of wars, not because they are necessary, but
because they are desired. It is in fact contributing, according to the
speaker's power, to desolate provinces and set villages in flames, to ruin
thousands and destroy thousands, — to inflict, in brief, all the evils and the
miseries which war inflicts. " Splendours," — ** Glories," — " Honours !"
— The listening soldier wants to signalize himself like the heroes who
are departed ; he wants to thrust his sickle into the fields of fame and
reap undying laurels : — How shall he signalize himself without a war,
and on what field can he reap glory but in the field of battle ? The con
sequence is inevitable : Multitudes desire war ; — they are fond of war,
— and it requires no sagacity to discover, that to desire and to love it is to
make it likely to happen. Thus a perpetual motive to human destruction
is created, of which the tendency is as inevitable as the tendency of a
stone to fall to the earth. The present state of public opinion manifestly
promotes the recurrence of wars of all kinds, necessary (if such there
are) and unnecessary. It promotes wars of pure aggression, — of the
most unmingled wickedness : it promoted the wars of the departed
Louises and Napoleons. It awards " glory" to the soldier, wherever be
his achievements and in whatever cause.
Now, waiving the after-consideration as to the nature of glory itself,
CHAP. 10.] MILITARY VIRTUES. 177
the individual may judge of his duties with respect to public opinion by
its effects. To minister to the popular notions of glory is to encourage
needless wars : it is therefore his duty not to minister to those notions.
Common talk by a man's fireside contributes its little to the universal
evil, and shares* in the universal ofl'ence. Of the writers of some books
it is'not too much to suppose, that they have occasioned more murders than
all the clubs and pistols of assassins for ages have effected. Is there no
responsibility for this?
But perhaps it will afford to some men new ideas if we inquire what
the real nature of the military virtues is. They receive more of applause
than virtues of any other kind. How does this happen ? AVe must seek
a solution in the seeming paradox that their pretensions to the characters
of virtues are few and small. They receive much applause because
they merit little. They could not subsist without it ; and if men resolve
to practise war, and consequently to require the conduct which gives suc
cess to war, they must decorate that conduct with glittering fictions, and
extol the military virtues though they be neither good nor great. Of
every species of real excellence it is the general characteristic that it is
not anxious for applause. The more elevated the virtue the less the
desire, and the less is the public voice a motive to action. What should
we say of that man's benevolence who would not relieve a neighbour in
distress unless the donation would be praised in a newspaper! What
should we say of that man's piety who prayed only when he was " seen of
men ?" But the military virtues live upon applause ; it is their vital
element and their food, their great pervading motive and reward. Are
there then among the respective virtues such discordances of character,
— such total contrariety of nature and essence ? No, no. But how then do
you account for the fact, that while all other great virtues are independent
of public praise and stand aloof from it, the military virtues can scarcely
exist without it.
It is again a characteristic of exalted virtue that it tends to produce
exalted virtues of other kinds. He that is distinguished by diffusive
benevolence is rarely chargeable with profaneness or debauchery. The
man of piety is not seen drunk. The man of candour and humility is
not vindictive or unchaste. Can the same things be predicated of the
tendency of military virtues? Do they tend powerfully to the pro
duction of all other virtues? Is the brave man peculiarly pious? Is the
military patriot peculiarly chaste ? Is he who pants for glory and acquires
it distinguished by unusual placability and temperance ? No, no. How
then do you account for the fact, that while other virtues thus strongly
tend lo produce and to foster one another,* the military virtues have little
of such tendency or none ?
The simple truth, however veiled and however unwelcome, is this ; that
the military virtues will not endure examination. They are called what
they are not, or what they are in a very inferior degree to that which popular
notions imply. It would not serve the purposes of war to represent these
qualities as being what they are : we therefore dress them with factitious
and alluring ornaments ; and they have been dressed so long that we admire
the show, and forget to inquire what is underneath. Our applauses of
military virtues do not adorn them like the natural bloom of loveliness ; it IB
the paint of that which, if seen,. would not attract, if it did not repel ua.
*" The virtues are nearly related, and live in the greatest harmony with each other."—
• 8 M
178 MILITARY TALENT. [Essx* If.
They are not like the verdure which adorns the meadow, but the green
ness that conceals a bog. If the reader says that we indulge in declama
tion, we invite, we solicit him to investigate the truth. And yet, without
inquiring further, there is conclusive evidence in the fact, that glory, that
praise, is the vital principle of military virtue. Let us take sound rules
for our guides of judgment, and it is not possible that we should regard
any quality as possessing much virtue which lives only or chiefly upon
praise. And who will pretend that the ranks of armies would be filled
if no tongue talked of bravery and glory, and no newspaper published
the achievements of a regiment '?*
" Truth is a naked and open daylight that doth not show the masks
and mummeries and triumphs of the world half so stately and daintily as
candle-lights."t Let us dismiss then that candle-light examination which
men are wont to adopt when they contemplate military virtues, and see
what appearance they exhibit in the daylight of truth. Military talent,
and active courage, and patriotism, or some other motive, appear to be the
foundations and the subjects of our applause.
With respect to talent little needs to be said, since few have an oppor
tunity of displaying it. An able general may exhibit his capacity for
military affairs ; but of the mass of those who join in battles and parti
cipate in their " glories," little more is expected than that they should be
obedient and brave. And as to the few who have the opportunity of
displaying talent, and who do display it, it is manifest that their claim
to merit, independently of the purpose to which their talent is devoted,
is little or none. A man deserves no applause for the possession or for
the exercise of talent as such. One man may possess and exercise as
much ability in corrupting the principles of his readers as another who
corrects and purifies them. One man may exhibit as much ability in
swindling as another in effectually legislating against swindlers. To
applaud the possession of talent is absurd, and, like many other absurd
actions, is greatly pernicious. Our approbation should depend on the
objects upon which the talent is employed. Military talents, like all
others, are only so far proper subjects of approbation as they are employed
aright. Yet the popular notion appears to be, that the display of talent
in a military leader is, per se, entitled to praise. You might as well
applaud the dexterity of a corrupt minister of state. The truth is, that
talent, as such, is not a proper subject of moral approbation, any more
than strength or beauty. But if we thus take away from the " glories"
of military leaders all but that which is founded upon the causes in which
their talents were engaged, what will remain to the Alexanders, and the
Caesars, and the Jenghizes, and the Louises, and the Charleses, and the
Napoleons, with whose " glories" the idle voice of fame is filled ? " Tout
ce qui peut-etre commun aux bons et aux mechans, ne le rend point verita-
blement estimable." Cannot military talents be exhibited indifferently
by the good and the bad ? Are they not in fact as often exhibited by
vicious men as by virtuous ? They are, and therefore they are not really
deserving of pi aise. But if any man should say that the circumstance
* It is pleasant t«* hear an intelligent woman say, " I cannot tell how or why the love of
glory is a less selfish principle than the love of riches :"(«) and it is pleasant to hear one of
our then principal reviews say, " Glory is the most selfish of all passions except love. (6)
That which is selfish can hardly be very virtuous. f Lord Bacon : Essays.
(a) Memoirs of late Jane Taylor. (i) Westm. Rev. No. 13.
CHAP. 10.] BRAVERY— POACHERS— COURAGE. 179
of a leader's exerting his talents " for his king and country" is of itself
a good cause, and therefore entitles him to praise, I answer that such a
man is deluding himself with idle fictions. I hope presently to show
this. Meanwhile it is to be remarked, that if this be a valid claim to
approbation, " king and country" must always be in the right. Who will
affirm this ? And yet if it is not shown, you may as well applaud the
brigand chief with his thirty followers as the greater marauder with his
thirty thousand.
Valour and bravery however may be exhibited by the many, — not by
generals and admirals alone, but by ensigns and midshipmen, by seamen
and by privates. What then is valour, and what is bravery ? " There is
nothing great but what is virtuous, nor indeed truly great but what is
composed and quiet."* There is much of truth in this. Yet where
then is the greatness of bravery, for where is the composure and quietude
of the quality ? " Valour or active courage is for the most part constitu
tional, and therefore can have no more claim to moral merit than wit,
beauty, or health."! Accordingly, the question which we have just asked
respecting military talent may be especially asked respecting bravery.
Cannot bravery be exhibited in common by the good and the bad ? Yet
further. " It is a great weakness for a man to value himself upon any
thing wherein he shall be outdone by fools and brutes." Is not the bravery
of the bravest outdone even by brutes? When the soldier has vigor
ously assaulted the enemy, when though repulsed he returns to the con
flict, when being wounded he still brandishes his sword till it drops from
his grasp by faintness or death, he surely is brave. What then is the
moral rank to which he has attained ? He has attained to the rank of
a bull-dog. The dog, too, vigorously assails his enemy ; when tossed
into the air he returns to the conflict ; when gored he still continues to
bite, and yields not his hold until he is stunned or killed. Contemplating
bravery as such, there is not a man in Britain or in Europe whose bravery
entitles him to praise which he must not share with the combatants of a
cockpit. Of the moral qualities that .are components of bravery, the
reader may form some conception from this language of a man who is
said to be a large landed proprietor, a magistrate, and a member of par
liament. " I am one of those who think that evil alone does not result
from poaching. The risk poachers run from the dangers that beset them,
added to their occupation being carried on in cold dark nights, begets a
hardihood of frame and contempt of danger that is not without its value.
I never heard or knew of a poacher being a coward. They all make
good soldiers ; and military men are well aware that two or three men
in each troop or company, of bold and enterprising spirits, are not without
their effect on their comrades." The same may of course be said of
smugglers and highwaymen. If these are the characters in whom we
are peculiarly to seek for bravery, what are the moral qualities of bravery
itself ? All just, all rational, and, I will venture to affirm, all permanent
reputation refers to the mind or to virtue ; and what connexion has animal
power or animal hardihood with intellect or goodness ? I do not decry
courage : He who was better acquainted than we are with the nature and
worth of human actions attached much value to courage, but he attached
none to bravery.}; Courage he recommended by his precepts and enforced
* Seneca. f Soame Jenyns : Internal Evid. of Christianity, Prop. 3.
J " Whatever merit valour may have assumed among pagans, with Christians it can pre
tend to none."— Soame Jenyns : Internal Evid. of Christianity, Prop. 3.
M 2
180 PATRIOTISM NOT THE SOLDIER'S MOTIVE. [ESSAY II.
by his example: bravery he never recommended at all. The wisdom
of this distinction and its accordancy with the principles of his religion
are plain. Bravery requires the existence of many of those dispositions
which he disallowed. Animosity, the desire of retaliation, the disposition
to injure and destroy, all this is necessary to the existence of bravery, but
all this is incompatible with Christianity. The courage which Christianity
requires is to bravery what fortitude is to daring, — an effort of the mental
principles rather than of the spirits. It is a calm, steady determinateness
of purpose, that will not be diverted by solicitation or awed by fear.
" Behold I go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the things
that shall befall me there ; save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every
city, saying, that bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of these things
move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself."* What resemblance
has bravery to courage like this? This courage is a virtue, and a virtue
which it is difficult to acquire or to practise ; and we have heedlessly or
ingeniously transferred its praise to another quality which is inferior in
its nature and easier to acquire, in order that we may obtain the reputation
of virtue at a cheap rate.
Of those who thus extol the lower qualities of our nature, few perhaps
are conscious to what a degree they are deluded. In exhibiting this delu
sion let us not forget the purpose for which it is done. The popular
notion respecting bravery does not terminate in an innoxious mistake.
The consequences are practically and greatly evil. He that has placed
his hopes upon the praises of valour desires of course an opportunity
of acquiring them, and this opportunity he cannot find but in the destruc
tion of men. That such powerful motives will lead to this destruction
when even ambition can scarcely find a pretext, we need not the testi
mony of experience to assure us. It is enough that we consider the
principles which actuate mankind.
And if we turn from actions to motives ; from bravery to patriotism,
we are presented with similar delusions, and with similar mischiefs as
their consequence. To " fight nobly for our country," to " fall covered
with glory in our country's cause," to " sacrifice our lives for the liberties
and laws and religion of our country," are phrases in the mouth of multi
tudes. What do they mean, and to whom do they apply ? We contend
that to say generally of those who perish in war that " they have died,
for their country," is simply untrue ; and for this simple reason, that they
did not fight for it. It is not true that patriotism is their motive. Why
is a boy destined from school for the army 1 Is it that his father is more
patriotic than his neighbour who destines his son for the bar ? Or if the
boy himself begs his father to buy an ensigncy, is it because he loves
his country, or is it because he dreams of glory, and admires scarlet and
plumes and swords? The officer enters the service in order that he may
obtain an income, not in order to benefit his fellow-citizens. The private
enters it because he prefers a soldier's life to another, or because he has
no wish but the wish for change. And having entered the army, what
is the motive that induces the private or his superiors to fight? It is that
fighting is part of their business ; that it is one of the conditions upon
which they were hired. Patriotism is not the motive. Of those who
fall in battle, is there one in a hundred who even thinks of his country's
good ? He thinks perhaps of glory and of the fame of his regiment —
* Acts xx. 22.
CHAP. 10.] MILITARY FAME NOT DURABLE. 181
he hopes perhaps that " Salamanca" or " Austerlitz" will henceforth be
inscribed on its colours, but rational views of his country's welfare are
foreign to his mind. He has scarcely a thought about the matter. He
fights in battle as a horse draws in a carriage, because he is compelled
to do it, or because he has done it before ; but he probably thinks no
more of his country's good than the same horse if he were carrying corn
to a granary would think he was providing for the comforts of his mas
ter. The truth therefore is, that we give to the soldier that of which w
are wont to be sufficiently sparing, — a gratuitous concession of meri
If he but ** fights bravely" he is a patriot, and secure of his praise.
To sacrifice our lives for the liberties and laws and religion of
our native land are, undoubtedly, high-sounding words;— but who are
they that will do it? Who is it that will sacrifice his life for his
country ? Will the senator who supports a war ? Will the writer
who declaims upon patriotism ? Will the minister of religion who re
commends the sacrifice ? Take away war and its fictions, and there is
not a man of them who will do it. Will he sacrifice his life at home ?
If the loss of his life in London or at York would procure just so much
benefit to his country as the loss of one soldier's in the field, would he
be willing to lay his head upon the block? Is he willing, for such a
contribution to his country's good, to resign himself without notice and
without remembrance to the executioner? Alas for the fictions of war!
where is such a man ! — Men will not sacrifice their lives at all unless it
be in war; and they do not sacrifice them in war from motives of
patriotism. In no rational use of language, therefore, can it be said that
the soldier «' dies for his country."
Not that there may not be, or that there have not been, persons who
fight from motives of patriotism. But the occurrence is comparatively
rare. There may be physicians who qualify themselves for practice
from motives of benevolence to the sick ; or lawyers who assume the
gown in order to plead for the injured and oppressed; — but it is an
unusual motive, and so is patriotism to the soldier.
And after all, even if all soldiers fought out of zeal for their country,
what is the merit of patriotism itself ? I do not say that it possesses no
virtue, but I affirm, and hope hereafter to show, that its virtue is extra
vagantly overrated,* and that if every one who fought did fight for his
country, he would often be actuated only by a mode of selfishness, — of
selfishness which sacrifices the general interests of the species to the
interests of a part.
Such and so low are the qualities which have obtained from deluded
and deluding millions, fame, honours, glories. A prodigious structure,
and almost without a base : a structure so vast, so brilliant, so attract
ive, that the greater portion of mankind are content to gaze in admira
tion, without any inquiry into its basis, or any solicitude for its durability.
If, however, it should be that the gorgeous temple will be able to stand
only till Christian truth and light become predominant, it surely will be
wise of those who seek a niche in its apartments as their paramount and
final good, to pause ere they proceed. If they desire a reputation that
shall outlive guilt and fiction, let them look to the basis of military fame.
If this fame should one day sink into oblivion and contempt, it will not
be the first instance in which wide-spread glory has been found to be a
* Essav iii. c. 17.
182 PUBLIC OPINION OF UNCHASTITY. [ESSAY II.
glittering bubble that has burst and been forgotten. Look at the days
of chivalry. Of the ten thousand Quixotes of the middle ages, where is
now the honour or the name ? Yet poets once sang their praises, and
the chronicler of their achievements believed he was recording an ever
lasting fame. Where are now the glories of the tournament ? Glories
" Of which all Europe rang from side to side."
Where is the champion whom princesses caressed and nobles envied ?
Where are the triumphs of Scotus and Aquinas, and where are the folios
that perpetuated their fame? The glories of war have, indeed, outlived
these : human passions are less mutable than human follies ; but I am
willing to avow the conviction that these glories are alike destined to
sink into forgetfulness, and that the time is approaching when the ap
plauses of heroism and the splendours of conquest will be remembered
only as follies and iniquities that are past. Let him who seeks for fame
other than that which an era of Christian purity will allow make haste,
for every hour that he delays its acquisition will shorten its duration. —
This is certain, if there be certainty in the promises of Heaven.
But we must not forget the purpose for which these illustrations of the
military virtues are offered to the reader ; — to remind him, not merely
that they are fictions, but fictions which are the occasion of excess of
misery to mankind ; — to remind him that it is his business, from con
siderations of humanity and of religion, to refuse to give currency to the
popular delusions, — and to remind him that if he does promote them, he
promotes, by the act, misery in all its forms and guilt in all its excesses.
Upon such subjects, men are not left to exercise their own inclinations,
Morality interposes its commands ; and they are commands which, if we
would be moral, we must obey.
UNCHASTITY. No portion of these pages is devoted to the enforce
ment of moral obligations upon this subject, partly because these obliga
tions are commonly acknowledged how little soever they may be regarded,
and partly because, as the reader will have seen, the object of these
essays is to recommend those applications of the moral law which are
frequently neglected in the practice even of respectable men. — But in
reference to the influence of public opinion on offences connected with
the sexual constitution, it will readily be perceived that something should
be said, when it is considered that some of the popular notions respecting
them are extravagantly inconsistent with the moral law. The want of
chastity in a woman is visited, by public opinion, with the severest repro
bation, — in men, with very little, or with none. Now, morality makes no
such distinction. The offence is frequently adverted to in the Christian
Scriptures, but I believe there is no one precept which intimates that in
the estimation of its writer there was any difference in the turpitude of
the offence respectively in men and women. If it be in this volume
that we are to seek for the principles of the moral law, how shall we
defend the state of popular opinion ? " If unchastity in a woman, whom
St. Paul terms the glory of man, be such a scandal and dishonour, then
certainly in a man, who is both the image and glory of God, it must,
though commonly not so thought, be much more deflowering and dis
honourable."* But this departure from the moral law, like all other
departures, produces its legitimate, that is, pernicious effects. The sex
Milton : Christian Doctrine, p. 624.
Chap. 10.] UNCHASTITY OF MEN. 183
in whom popular opinion reprobates the offences comparatively seldom
commits them : the sex in whom it tolerates the offences commits them
to an enormous extent. It is obvious, therefore, that to promote the
present state of popular opinion is to promote and to encourage the want
of chastity in men.
That some very beneficial consequences result from the strong direc
tion of its current against the offence in a woman, is certain. The
consciousness that upon the retention of her reputation depends so tre
mendous a stake, is probably a more efficacious motive to its preservation
than any other. The abandonment to which the loss of personal
integrity generally consigns a woman is a perpetual and fearful warning
to the sex. Almost every human being deprecates and dreads the general
disfavour of mankind ; and thus, notwithstanding temptations of all kinds,
the number of women who do incur it is comparatively small.
But the fact that public opinion is thus powerful in restraining one
sex is a sufficient evidence that it would also be powerful in restraining
the other. Waiving for the present the question whether the popular
disapprobation of the crime in a woman is not too severe, — if the man
who was guilty was forthwith and immediately consigned to infamy —
if he was expelled from virtuous society, and condemned, for the re
mainder of life, to the lowest degradation, how quickly would the
frequency of the crime be diminished! The reformation among men
would effect a reformation among women too ; and the reciprocal
temptations which each addresses to the other would, in a great degree,
be withdrawn. If there were few seducers few would be seduced ; and
few therefore would, in turn, become the seducers of men.
But instead of this direction of public opinion, what is the ordinary
language respecting the man who thus violates the moral law? We are
told that " he is rather unsteady ;" that " there is a little of the young
man about him ;" that '* he is not free from indiscretions." And what
is he likely to think of all this ? Why, that for a young man to have a
little of the young man about him is perfectly natural ; that to be rather
unsteady and a little indiscreet is not, to be sure, what one would wish,
but that it is no great harm, and will soon wear off. — To employ such
language is, we say, to encourage and promote the crime, a crime which
brings more wretchedness and vice into the world than almost any other;
,and for which, if Christianity is to be believed, the Universal Judge will
call to a severe account. If the immediate agent be obnoxious to punish
ment, can he who encouraged him expect to escape ? I am persuaded
that die frequency of this gross offence is attributable much more to the
levity of public notions as founded upon levity of language, than to pas
sion ; and perhaps, therefore, some of those who promote this levity
may be in every respect as criminal as if they committed the crime
itself.
Women themselves contribute greatly to the common levity and to its
attendant mischiefs. Many a female who talks in the language of ab
horrence of an offending sister, and averts her eye in contumely if she
meets her in the street, is perfectly willing to be the friend and intimate
of the equally offending man. That such women are themselves duped
by the vulgar distinction is not to be doubted, — but then, we are not to
imagine that she who practises this inconsistency abhors the crime so
much as the criminal. Her abhorrence is directed not so much to the
violation of the moral law as to the party by whom it is violated. " To
184 POWER OF CHARACTER. [ESSAY II.
little respect has that woman a claim on the score of modesty, though
her reputation may be white as the driven snow, who smiles on the liber
tine while she spurns the victims of his lawless appetites." No, no. —
If such women would convince us that it is the impurity which they
reprobate, let them reprobate it wherever it is found : if they would con
vince us that morals or philanthropy is their motive when they spurn the
sinning sister, let them give proof by spurning him who has occasioned
her to sin.
The common style of narrating occurrences and trials of seduction, <fcc.
in the public prints is very mischievous. These flagitious actions are,
it seems, a legitimate subject of merriment ; one of the many droll things
which a newspaper contains. It is humiliating to see respectable men
sa2rifice the interests of society to such small temptation. They pander
to the appetite of the gross and idle of the public : — they want to sell
their newspapers. — Much of this ill-timed merriment is found in the
addresses of counsel, and this is one mode among the many in which
the legal profession appears to think itself licensed to sacrifice virtue to
the usages which it has, for its own advantage, adopted. There is
cruelty, as well as other vices, in these things. When we take into
account the intense suffering which prostitution produces upon its victims
and upon their friends, he who contributes, even thus indirectly, to its
extension does not exhibit even a tolerable sensibility to human misery.
Even infidelity acknowledges the claims of humanity ; and, therefore, if
religion and religious morals were rejected, this heartless levity of lan
guage would still be indefensible. We call the man benevolent who
relieves or diminishes wretchedness : what should we call him who ex
tends and increases it ?
In connexion with this subject an observation suggests itself respect
ing the power of character in affecting the whole moral principles of the
mind. If loss of character does not follow a breach of morality, that
breach may be single and alone. The agent's virtue is so far deteriorated,
but the breach does not open wide the door to other modes of crime. —
If loss of character does follow one offence, one of the great barriers
which exclude the flood of evil is thrown down ; and though the offence
which produced loss of character be really no greater than the offence
with which it is retained, yet its consequences upon the moral condition
are incomparably greater. The reason is, that if you take away a per-*
son's reputation you take away one of the principal motives to propriety
of conduct. The labourer who, being tempted to steal a piece of bacon
from the farmer, finds that no one will take him into his house or give him
employment, and that wherever he goes he is pointed at as a thief, is
almost as much driven as tempted to repeat the crime. His fellow-
labourer who has much more heinously violated the moral law by a
flagitious intrigue with a servant-girl, receives from the farmer a few
reproaches and a few jests, retains his place, never perhaps repeats the
offence, and subsequently maintains a decent morality.
It has been said, "As a woman collects all her virtue into this point.
the loss of her chastity is generally the destruction of her moral principle."
What is to be understood by collecting virtue into one point it is not easy
to discover. The truth is, that as popular notions have agreed that she
who loses her chastity shall retain no reputation, a principal motive to
the practice of other virtues is taken away : — she therefore disregards
them ; and thus, by degrees, her moral principle is utterly depraved, — '
CHAP. 10.] CHARACTER IN LEGAL MEN. 185
If public opinion was so modified that the world did not abandon a woman
who lias been robbed of chastity, it is probable that a much larger num
ber of these unhappy persons would return to virtue. The case of men
offers illustration and proof. The unchaste man retains his character,
or at any rate he retains so much that it is of great importance to him to
preserve the remainder. Public opinion accordingly holds its strong
rein upon other parts of his conduct, and by this rein he is restrained
from deviating into other walks of vice. If the direction of public opinion
were exchanged, if the woman's offence were held venial and the man's
infamous, the world might stand in wonder at the altered scene. We
should have worthy and respectable prostitutes, while the men whom we
now invite to our tables and marry to our daughters, would "be repulsed
as the most abandoned of mankind. Of this I have met with a curious
illustration. — Among the North American Indians '* seduction is re«
garded as a despicable crime, and more blame is attached to the man
than to the woman : hence the offence on the part of the female is more
readily forgotten and forgiven, and she finds little or no difficulty in form
ing a subsequent matrimonial alliance when deserted by her betrayer,
who is generally regarded with distrust, and avoided in social intercourse."*
It becomes a serious question how we shall fix upon the degree in
which diminution of character ought to be consequent upon offences
against morality. It is not, I think, too much to say that no single crime,
once committed, under the influence perhaps of strong temptation, ought
to occasion such a loss of character as to make the individual regard
himself as abandoned. I make no exceptions, not even for murder. I
am persuaded that some murders are committed with less of personal
guilt than is sometimes involved in much smaller crimes : but however
that may be, there is no reason why, even to the murderer, the motives
and the avenues to amendment should be closed. Still less ought they
to be closed against the female who is perhaps the victim — strictly the
victim — of seduction. Yet, if the public do not express, and strongly
express, their disapprobation, we have seen that they practically en
courage offences. In this difficulty I know of no better and no other
guide than that system which the tenor of Christianity prescribes, —
Abhorrence of the evil and commiseration of him who commits it. The
union of these dispositions will be likely to produce, with respect to
offences of all kinds, that conduct which most effectually tends to dis
countenance them, while it as effectually tends to reform the offenders.
These, however, are not the dispositions which actuate the public in
measuring their reprobation of unchastity in women. Something prob
ably might rightly be deducted from the severity with which their
offence is visited : much may be rightly altered in the motives which
induce this severity. And as to men, much should be added to the
quantum of reprobation, and much correction should be applied to the
principles by which it is regulated.
Another illustration of the power of character, as such, to corrupt the
principles or to preserve them, is furnished in the general respectability
of the legal profession. We have seen that this profession, habitually,
and as a matter of course, violates many and great points of morality,
and yet I know not that their character as men is considerably inferior to
that of others in similar walks of life. Abating the privileges under
* Hunter's Memoirs.
186 DISTRIBUTION OF FAME. [EssAT II-
which the profession is presumed to act, many of their legal procedures
are as flagitious as some of those which send unprivileged professions to
the bar of justice. How then does it happen that the moral offenders
whom we imprison, and try, and punish are commonly in their general
conduct depraved, while the equal offenders whom we do not punish are
not thus depraved ? The prisoner has usually lost much of his reputa
tion before he becomes a thief, and at any rate he loses it with the act.
But a man may enter the customary legal course with a fair name:
public opinion has not so reprobated that course as to make it necessary
to its pursuit that a man should already have become depraved. While
engaged in the ordinary legal practice he may be unjust at his desk or
at the bar, he may there commit actions essentially and greatly wicked,
and yet when he steps into his parlour his character is not reproached.
A jest or two upon his adroitness is probably all the intimation that he
receives that other men do not regard it with perfect complacency.
Such a man will not pick your pocket the more readily because he has
picked a hundred pockets at the bar. This were to sacrifice his charac
ter ; the other does not : and accordingly all those motives to rectitude
which the desire of preserving reputation supplies operate to restrain
him from other offences. If public opinion were rectified, if character
were lost by actual violations of the moral law, some of the ordinary
processes of legal men would be practised only by those who had little
character to lose. — Not indeed that public opinion is silent respecting
the habitual conduct of the profession. A secret disapprobation mani
festly exists, of which sufficient evidence may be found even in the
lampoons, and satires, and proverbs which pass currently in the world.
Unhappily, the disapprobation is too slight, and especially it is too slightly
expressed. When it is thus expressed, the lawyer sometimes unites,
with at least apparent good-humour, in the jest, — feeling, perhaps, that
conduct which cannot be shown to be virtuous, it is politic to keep with
out the pale of the vices by a joke.
FAME. The observations which were offered respecting contributing
to the passion for glory involve kindred doctrines respecting contributions
generally to individual fame. If the pretensions of those with whose
applauses the popular voice is filled, were examined by the only proper
test, the test which Christianity allows, it would be found that multitudes
whom the world thus honours must be shorn of their beams. Before
Bacon's daylight of truth, poets and statesmen and philosophers without
number would hide their diminished heads. The mighty indeed would
be fallen. Yet it is for the acquisition of this fame that multitudes toil.
It is their motive to action ; and they pursue that conduct which will
procure fame, whether it ought to procure it or not. The inference as to
the duties of individuals in contributing to fame is obvious.
" The profligacy of a man of fashion is looked upon with much less
contempt and aversion than that of a man of meaner condition."* It
ought to be looked upon with much more. — But men of fashion are not
our concern. Our business is with men of talent and genius, with the
eminent and the great. The profligacy of these, too, is regarded with
much less of aversion than that of less gifted men. To be great, whether
intellectually or otherwise, is often like a passport to impunity ; and men
talk as if we ought to speak leniently of the faults of a man who delights
* Ad. Smith : Theo. Mor. Sent.
10.] IAULTS OF GREAT MEN. 187
us by his genius or his talent. This precisely is the man whose faults
we should be most prompt to mark, because he is the man whose faults
are most seducing to the world. Intellectual superiority brings, no
doubt, its congenial temptations. Let these affect our judgments of the
man, but let them not diminish our reprobation of his offences. So to
extenuate the individual as to apologize for his faults is to injure the
cause of virtue in one of its most vulnerable parts. " Oh ! that I
could see in men who oppose tyranny in the state, a disdain of the tyr
anny of low passions in themselves. I cannot reconcile myself to the
idea of an immoral patriot, or to that separation of private from public
virtue which some men think to be possible."* Probably it is possible ;
probably there may be such a thing as an immoral patriot : for public
opinion applauds the patriotism without condemning the immorality. If
men constantly made a fit deduction from their praises of public virtue
on account of its association with private vice, the union would fre
quently be severed ; and he who hoped for celebrity from the public
would find it needful to be good as well as great. He who applauds
human excellence and really admires it, should endeavour to make its
examples as pure and perfect as he can. He should hold out a mo
tive to consistency of excellence, by evincing that nothing else can
obtain praise unmingled with censure. This endeavour should be con
stant and uniform. The hearer should never be allowed to suppose that
in appreciating a person's merits, we are indifferent to his faults. It
has been complained of one of our principal works of periodical liter
ature, that among its many and ardent praises of Shakspeare, it has
almost never alluded to his indecencies. The silence is reprehensible :
for what is a reader to conclude but that indecency is a very venial
offence ? Under such circumstances, not to be with morality is to be
against it. Silence is positive mischief. People talk to us of liberality,
and of allowances for the aberrations of genius, and for the temptations
of greatness. It is well. Let the allowances be made. — But this is fre
quently only affectation of candour. It is not that we are lenient to
failings, but that we are indifferent to vice. It is not even enlightened be
nevolence to genius, or greatness itself. The faults and vices with
which talented men are chargeable deduct greatly from their own happi
ness, and it cannot be doubted that their misdeeds have been the more
willingly committed from the consciousness that apologists would be found
among the admiring world. It is sufficient to make that world knit its
brow in anger, to insist upon the moral demerits of a Robert Burns,
Pathetic and voluble extenuations are instantly urged. There are exten
uations of such a man's vices, and they ought to be regarded : but no
extenuations can remove the charge of voluntary and intentional viola
tions of morality. Let us not hear of the enthusiasm of poetry. Men do
not write poetry as they chatter with their neighbours : they sit down to
a deliberate act ; and he who in his verses offends against morals inten
tionally and deliberately offends.
After all, posterity exercises some justice in its award. When the
first glitter and the first applauses are past, — when death and a few
years of sobriety have given opportunity to the public mind to attend to
truth, it makes a deduction, though not a due deduction, for the shaded
portions of the great man's character. It is not forgotten that Marl-
* Dr. Price : Revolution Serm.
188 NEWTON— VOLTAIRE— THE PRESS. [ESSAY II.
borough was avaricious, that Bacon was mean ; and there are great names
of the present day of whom it will not be forgotten that they had deep
and dark shades in their reputation. It is perhaps wonderful that those
who seek for fame are so indifferent to these deductions from its amount.
Supposing the intellectual pretensions of Newton and Voltaire were
<equal, how different is their fame ! How many and how great qualifica
tions are employed in praising the one ! How few and how small in
praising the other ! Editions of the works of some of our first writers are
tdvertised, " in which the exceptionable passages are expunged." How
foolish, how uncalculating even as to celebrily, to have inserted these
passages ! • To write, in the hope of fame, works which posterity will
mutilate before they place them in their libraries ! — Charles James Fox
said, that if during his administration they could effect the abolition of
the slave-trade, it " would entail more true glory upon them, and more
honour upon their country, than any other transaction in which they
could be engaged."* If this be true, (and who will dispute it ?) minis
ters usually provide very ill for their reputation with posterity. How
anxiously devoted to measures comparatively insignificant ! How phleg
matic respecting those calls of humanity and public principle, a regard
of which will alone secure the permanent honours of the world ! It may
safely be relied upon that " much more unperishable is the greatness of
goodness than the greatness of power,"f or the greatness of talent. And
the difference will progressively increase. If, as there is reason to be
lieve, the moral condition of mankind will improve, their estimate of the
good portion of a great man's character will be enhanced, and their repro
bation of the bad will become more intense, — until at length it will
perhaps be found, respecting some of those who now receive the ap
plauses of the world, that the balance of public opinion is against them,
and that in the universal estimate of merit and demerit, they will be
ranked on the side of the latter. These motives to virtue in great men
are not addressed to the Christian : he has higher motives and better :
but since it is more desirable that a man should act well from imperfect
motives than that he should act ill, we urge him to regard the integrity
of his fame.
THE PRESS. It is manifest that if the obligations which have been
urged apply to those who speak, they apply with tenfold responsibility
to those who write. The man who in talking to half a dozen of his
acquaintance contributes to confuse or pervert their moral notions, is
accountable for the mischief which he may do to six persons. He who
writes a book containing similar language is answerable for a so much
greater amount of mischief as the number of his readers exceeds six,
and as the influence of books exceeds that of conversation by the evi
dence of greater deliberation in their contents, and by the greater atten
tion which is paid by the reader. It is not a light matter, even in this
view, to write a book for the public. We very insufficiently consider
the amount of the obligations, and the extent of the responsibility which
we entail upon ourselves. Every one knows the power of the press in
influencing the public mind. He that publishes five hundred copies of a
book of which any part is likely to derange the moral judgment of a
reader, contributes materially to the propagation of evil. If each of his
books is read by four persons, he endangers the infliction of this evil,
* Fell's Memoirs. t Sir R. K. Porter.
CHAP. 10.] INFLUENCE OF NEWSPAPERS. 189
whatever be its amount, upon two thousand minds. Who shall tell the
sum of the mischief? In this country the periodical press is a power
ful engine for evil or for good. The influence of the contents of one
number of a newspaper may be small, but it is perpetually recurring.
The editor of a journal of which no more than a thousand copies are
circulated in a week, and each of which is read by half a dozen persons,
undertakes in a year a part of the moral guidance of thirty thousand
individuals. Of some daily papers the number of readers is so great,
that in the course of twelve months they may influence the opinions and
the conduct of six or eight millions of men. To say nothing, therefore,
of editors who intentionally mislead and vitiate the public, and remem
bering with what carelessness respecting the moral tendency of articles
a newspaper is filled, it may safely be concluded that some creditable
editors do harm in the world to an extent in comparison with which rob
beries and treasons are as nothing.
It is not easy to imagine the sum of advantages which would result if
the periodical press not only excluded that which does harm, but preferred
that which does good. Not that grave moralities, not, especially, that reli
gious disquisitions, are to be desired ; but that every reader should see
and feel that the editor maintained an allegiance to virtue and to truth.
There is hardly any class of topics in which this allegiance may not be man
ifested, and manifested without any incongruous associations. You may
relate the common occurrences of the day in such a manner as to do either
good or evil. The trial of a thief, the particulars of a conflagration, the death
of a statesman, the criticism of a debate, and a hundred other matters,
may be recorded so as to exercise a moral influence over the reader for the
better or the worse. That the influence is frequently for the worse
needs no proof; and it is so much the less defensible because it maybe
changed to the contrary without a word, directly, respecting morals or
religion.
However, newspapers do much more good than harm, especially in
politics. They are in this country one of the most vigorous and bene
ficial instruments of political advantage. They effect incalculable ben
efit both in checking the statesman who would abuse power, and in so
influencing the public opinion as to prepare it for, and therefore to ren
der necessary, an amelioration of political and civil institutions. The
great desideratum is enlargement of views and purity of principle. We
want in editorial labours less of partisanship, less of petty squabbles
about the worthless discussions of the day : we want more of the phi"
losophy of politics, more of that grasping intelligence which can send a
reader's reflections from facts to principles. Our journals are, to what
they ought to be, what a chronicle of the middle ages is to a philo
sophical history. The disjointed fragments of political intelligence ought
to be connected by a sort of enlightened running commentary. There
is talent enough embarked in some of these ; but the talent too com
monly expends itself upon subjects and in speculations which are of
little interest beyond the present week.
And here we are reminded of that miserable direction to public opinion
which is given in historical works.* I do not speak of party bias, though
that is sufficiently mischievous ; but of the irrational selection by his-
* " Next to the guilt of those who commit wicked actions is that of the historian who
glosses them over and excuses them." — Southey : Book of the Church, c. 8.
190 HISTORY— ITS DEFECTS-ITS POWER. [ESSAY II.
torians of comparatively unimportant things to fill the greater portion ot
their pages. People exclaim that the history of Europe is little more
than a history of human violence and wickedness. But they confound
history with that portion of history which historians record. That por
tion is doubtless written almost in blood, — but it is a very small, and in
truth a very subordinate portion. The intrigues of cabinets ; the rise
and fall of ministers ; wars, and battles, and victories, and defeats ;
the plunder of provinces ; the dismemberment of empires ; — these are
the things which fill the pages of the historian, but these are not the
things which compose the history of man. He that would acquaint him
self with the history of his species must apply to other and to calmer
scenes. " It is a cruel mortification in searching for what is instructive
in the history of past times, to find that the exploits of conquerors who
have desolated the earth, and the freaks of tyrants who have rendered
nations unhappy are recorded with minute and often disgusting accuracy,
while the discovery of useful arts and the progress of the most beneficial
branches of commerce are passed over in silence, and suffered to sink
into oblivion."* Even a more cruel mortification than this is to find re
corded almost nothing respecting the intellectual and moral history of
man. You are presented with five or six weighty volumes which profess
to be a history of England ; and after reading them to the end you have
hardly found any thing to satisfy that interesting question, — How has my
country been enabled to advance from barbarism to civilization ; to come
forth from darkness into light ? Yes, by applying philosophy to facts
yourself, you may attain some, though it be but an imperfect, reply. But
the historian himself should have done this. The facts of history, sim
ply as such, are of comparatively little concern. He is the true histo
rian of man who regards mere facts rather as the illustrations of his
tory than as its subject-matter. As to the history of cabinets and courts,
of intrigue and oppression, of campaigns and generals, we can almost
spare it all. It is of wonderfully little consequence whether they are
remembered or not, except as lessons of instruction, — except as proofs
of the evils of bad principles and bad institutions. For any other pur
pose, Blenheim! we can spare thee. And Louis, even Louis "le grand!"
we can spare thee. And thy successor and his Pompadour ! we can
spare ye all.
Much power is in the hands of the historian if he will exert it : if he
will make the occurrences of the past subservient to the elucidations of
the principles of human nature, — of the principles of political truth, — of
the rules of political rectitude : if he will refuse to make men ambitious
of power by filling his pages with the feats or freaks of men in power ;
— if he will give no currency to the vulgar delusions about glory: — if he
will do these things, and such as these, he will deserve well of his coun
try and of man; for he will contribute to that rectification of public opin
ion which, when it is complete and determinate, will be the most pow
erful of all earthly agents in ameliorating the social condition of the world.
* Robertson : Disq. on Ancient Commerce of India.
CHAP.!!.] INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 191
CHAPTER XI.
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.
U!T is no less true than lamentable, tliat hitherto the education proper
for civil and active life has been neglected ; that nothing has been done
to enable those who are actually to conduct the affairs of the world, to
carry them on in a manner worthy of the age and country in which they
live, by communicating to them the knowledge and the spirit of their
age and country."* — " Knowledge does not consist in being able to read
books, but in understanding one's business and duty in life." — Most wri
ters have considered the subject of education as relative to that portion
of it only which applies to learning ; but the first object of all, in every
nation, is to make a man a good member of society." — " Education con
sists in learning what makes a man useful, respectable, and happy, in
the line for which he is destined."!
If these propositions are true it is evident that the systems of educa
tion which obtain need great and almost total reformation. What does
a boy, in the middle class of society, learn at school of the knowledge
and the spirit of his age and country ? When he has left school, how
much does he understand of the business and duty of life ?
Education is one of those things which Lord Bacon would describe
as having lain almost unaltered "upon the dregs of time." We still
fancy that we educate our children when we give them, as its principal
constituent, that same instruction which was given before England had
a literature of its own, and when Greek and Latin contained almost the
sum of human knowledge. Then the knowledge of Greek and Latin
was called, and not unjustly called, learning. It was the learning which
procured distinction and celebrity. A sort of dignity and charm was
thrown around the attainments and the word which designated them.
That charm has continued to operate to the present hour, and we still
call him a learned man who is skilful in Latin and Greek. Yet Latin
and Greek contain an extremely small portion of that knowledge which
the world now possesses ; an extremely small portion of that which it is
of most consequence to acquire. It would be well for society if this
word learning could be forgotten, or if we could make it the representa
tive of other and very different ideas. But the delusion is continually
propagated. The higher ranks of society give the tone to the notions
of the rest ; and the higher classes are educated at Westminster and
Eton, and Cambridge and Oxford. At all these the languages which
have ceased to be the languages of a living people, — the authors which
communicate, relatively, little knowledge that is adapted to the present
affairs of man, — are made the first and foremost articles of education.
To be familiar with these is still to be a " learned" man. Inferior in
stitutions imitate the example ; and the parent who knows his son will
* Art. 4 ; Education. Wesmt. Rev. No. 1.
f Playfair : Causes of Decline of Nations, p. 97, 98, 227.
192 ANCIENT CLASSICS. [ESSAY II.
be, like himself, a merciiant or manufacturer, thinks it almost indispen
sable that he should " learn Latin."
It may reasonably be doubted whether to even the higher ranks of
society, this preference of ancient learning is wise. It may reasonably
be doubted whether even at Oxford a literary revolution would not be
a useful revolution. Indeed, the very circumstance that the system of
education there is not essentially different from what it was centuries
ago is almost a sufficient evidence that an alteration is needed. If the cir
cumstances and the contexture of human society is altered, — if the bounda
ries of knowledge are very greatly extended, and if that knowledge which
is now applicable to the affairs of life is extremely different from that
which was applicable long ages ago, — it surely is plain that a system
which has not, or has only slightly, accommodated itself to the new con
dition and new exigences of human affairs, cannot be a good system,
cannot be a reasonable and judicious system. How stands the fact ?
When young men leave college to take part in the concerns of active
life, how much assistance do they derive from classical literature ? Look
at the House of Commons. How much does this literature contribute
to a member's legislating wisely upon questions of political economy, of
jurisprudence, of taxation, of reform ? Or how much does it contribute
to the capability of any other class of men to serve their families, their
country, or mankind ? I speak not of those professions to which a dead
language maybe necessary. A physician learns Latin as he attends the
dissecting room : it is a part of his system of preparation for his pur
suits in life. Even with the professions, indeed, the need of a dead lan
guage is factitious. It is necessary only because usage has made it so.
But I speak of that portion of mankind who, being exempt from the ne
cessity for toil, fill the various gradations of society from that of the prince
to the private gentleman. Select what rank or what class you please,
and ask how much its members are indebted to ancient learning for their
capability to discharge their duties as parents, as men, or as citizens of
the state, — the answer is literally, " Almost nothing." Now this is a
serious answer, and involves serious consequences. A young man, when
he enters upon the concerns of active life, has to set about acquiring new
kinds of knowledge, — knowledge totally dissimilar to the greater part of
that which his "education" gave him; and the knowledge which educa
tion did give him he is obliged practically to forget, — to lay it aside : it
is something that is not adapted to the condition and the wants of soci
ety. But for what purpose are people educated, unless it be to prepare
them for this condition and these wants ? Or how can that be a judicious
system which does not effect these purposes ?
That no advantages result from the study of ancient classics it would
be idle to maintain. But this is not the question. The question is,
Whether so many advantages result from. this study as from others that
might be substituted ; and I am persuaded that we shall become more
and more willing to answer, No. With respect to the sum of knowledge
which the works of antiquity convey, as compared with that which is
conveyed by modern literature, the disproportion is great in the extreme.
To say that the modern is a hundred times greater than the ancient is
to keep far from the language of exaggeration. And to say the truth', the
majority of those who are educated at college leave it with but an im
perfect acquaintance with those languages which they have spent years
in professing to acquire. There are some men skilled in the languages :
CHAP. 11.] CLASSICS IN BOARDING-SCHOOLS. 193
there are some " learned" men ; but the very circumstance that great
skill procures celebrity is an evidence that great skill is rare. Among
educated laymen the number is very small of those whose knowledge of
Latin bears any respectable proportion to their knowledge of their own
language, — of that language which they have hardly professed to learn
at an. If the London University should be successfully established, it
is probable that at least one collateral benefit will result from it. The
wide range of subjects which it proposes to embrace in its system of
education will possess an influence upon other institutions ; and the
time may arrive when the impulse of public opinion shall reduce the
mathematics of one of our universities and the classics of both, to such
a relative station among the objects of human study as shall be better
adapted to the purposes of human life.
If considerations like these apply to the preference of classical learning
by those classes of society who can devote many years to the general
purposes of education, much more do they apply to those who fill the
middle ranks. Yet among these ranks the charm of the fiction has im
mense power. It has descended from universities to boarding-schools of
thirty pounds a year; and the parent complacently pays the extra "three
guineas" in order that his boy may "learn Latin." We affirm that the
knowledge of Latin and Greek is all but useless to these boys, and that
if the knowledge were useful, they do not acquire it. "What are the
stations which they are about to fill ? One is to be a manufacturer, and
one a merchant, and one a ship-owner, and one will underwrite at Lloyd's,
and one will be a consul at Toulon. Nay, we might go lower, and say,
one will be a tanner, and one a draper, and one a corn-factor. Yet these
boys must learn Latin, and perhaps Greek too. And they do actually
spend day after day, and perhaps year after year, upon " Hie ha3c hoc," —
•' Propria quae maribus," — "As in praesenti," — " Et, and; cum, w/ien ;"
and the like. What conceivable relationship do these things bear to
making steam-engines, or discounting bills, or shipping cargoes, or mak
ing leather, or selling cloth ? None. But it will be said, What relation
ship does any merely literary pursuit bear ? Or why should a merchant's
son read Paradise Lost ? Such questions conduct us to the just view of
the case ; and accordingly we answer, Let these young persons attend
to literature, but let it be literature of the most expedient kind. Let them
read Paradise Lost. Why ? Because it is delightful, and because they
can do it without learning a language in order to acquire the power : if
Paradise Lost existed only in Arabic, I should think it preposterous to
teach young persons Arabic in order that they might road it. To those
who are to fill the active stations of life, literature must always be a
subordinate concern ; and it would be vain to deny that our own language
possesses a sufficient store for them without learning others to increase it.
But indeed the children of the middle classes do not learn the lan
guages. They do not learn them so as to be able to appreciate the
merits and the beauties of ancient literature. Ask the boys themselves.
Ask them whether they could hold an hour's conversation with Cicero if
he should stand before them. The very supposition is absurd. Or can
they read and enjoy Cicero as they read and enjoy Addison ? No.
They do not learn the ancient languages. They pore over rules and
exercises, and syntax and quantities, but as to learning the language, in
the same sense as that in which it may be said they learn English, there
is not one in a hundred, nor probably in ten thousand, who does it. Yet
N
194 LATIN AND GREEK. [ESSAY II.
unless a person does learn a language so as to read it, at least, with per
fect facility, what becomes of the use of the study as a means of elevating
the taste ? This is one of the advantages which are attributed to the study
of the classics. But without inquiring whether the taste might not be as
well cultivated by other means, one short consideration is sufficient :
that the taste is not cultivated by studying the classics but by mastering
them, — by acquiring such a familiarity with these works as enables us
to appreciate their excellences. This familiarity, or any thing that
approaches to this familiarity, schoolboys do not acquire. Playfair
makes a computation, from which he concludes that in ordinary boarding-
schools, " not above one in a hundred learns to read even Latin decently
well ; that is, one good reader for every ten thousand pounds expended.
As to speaking Latin," he adds, " perhaps one out of a thousand may
learn that : so that there is a speaker for each sum of one hundred thou
sand pounds spent on the language."*
Then it is said that the act of studying the ancient languages exercise
the memory, cultivates the habit of attention, and teaches, too, the art of
reasoning. Grant all this. Cannot then the memory be exercised as
well by acquiring valuable knowledge as by acquiring a mere knowledge
of words ? Would the memory lose any thing by affixing ideas to the
words it learned ? The same questions apply to those who urge the habit
of attention, and to all those advocates of the study who insist upon the
exercise which it gives to the mind. We do not question the utility of
this exercise ; we only say that while the mind is exercised it should
also be fed. — That such topics of advocacy are resorted to is itself an
indication of the questionable utility of the study. No one thinks it
necessary to adduce such topics as reasons for learning addition and
subtraction.
The intelligent reader will perceive that the ground upon which these
objections to classical studies are urged is that they occupy time which
might be more beneficially employed. If the period of education were
long enough to learn the ancient languages in addition to the more bene
ficial branches of knowledge, our inquiry would be of another kind. But
the period is not long enough : a selection must be made ; and that which
it has been our endeavour to show is, that in selecting the classics we make
an unwise selection.
The remarks which follow will be understood as applying to the mid
dle ranks of society ; that is, to the ranks in which the greatest sum of
talent and virtue resides, and by which the business of the world is prin
cipally carried on. — If we take up a card of terms of an ordinary
boarding-school, we probably meet with an enumeration something like
this : — " Reading, Writing, Arithmetic, English Grammar, Composition,
History, Geography, Use of the Globes, &c. ;" besides the " accom
plishments," and French, Greek, and Latin. " Education consists in
learning what makes a man useful, respectable, and happy in the line for
which he is destined." Useful, respectable, and happy, not merely in
his counting-house, but in his parlour ; not merely in his own house, but
among his neighbours, and as a member of civilized society. Now
surely the list of subjects which are set down above is, to say the least,
yery imperfect. Besides reading, writing, and arithmetic, what is the
amount of knowledge which it conveys ? English Grammar : — This is
* Inq. Causes of Decline of Nations, p. 224.
CHAP. 11.] FORMAL STUDY OF GRAMMAR. 195
in fact not learned by committing to memory lessons in the "grammar-
book." Composition : — This is of consequence ; although, as school
economy is now managed, it makes a better appearance on the master's
card than on the boy's paper. History, Geography, and the Globe Prob
lems are of great interest and value ; and the great unhappiness is that
such studies are postponed to others of comparatively little worth.
Since human knowledge is so much more extensive than the oppor
tunity of individuals for acquiring it, it becomes of the greatest impor
tance so to economize the opportunity as to make it subservient to the
acquisition of as large and as valuable a portion as we can. It is not
enough to show that a given branch of education is useful : you must
show that it is the most useful that can be selected. Remembering
this, I think it would be expedient to dispense with the formal study
of English Grammar, — a proposition which I doubt not many a teacher
will hear with wonder and disapprobation. We learn the grammar in
order that we may learn English ; and we learn English whether we
study grammars or not. Especially we shall acquire a competent know
ledge of our own language if other departments of our education were
improved. A boy learns more English Grammar by joining in an hour's
conversation with educated people than in poring for an hour over
Murray or Home Tooke. If he is accustomed to such society and to the
perusal of well written books, he will learn English Grammar though he
never sees a word about syntax ; and if he is not accustomed to such
society and such reading, the " grammar books" at a boarding-school
will not teach it. Men learn their own language by habit, and not by
rules : and this is just what we might expect ; for the grammar of a lan
guage is itself formed from the prevalent habits of speech and writing.
A compiler of grammar first observes these habits, and then makes his
rules : but if a person is himself familiar with the habits, why study the
rules ? I say nothing of grammar as a general science ; because,
although the philosophy of language be a valuable branch of human
knowledge, it were idle to expect that schoolboys should understand it.
The objection is, to the system of attempting to teach children formally
that which they will learn practically without teaching. A grammar of
Murray's lies before me, of which the leaves are worn into rags by being
" learned." I find the child is to learn that " words are articulate sounds,
used by common consent as signs of our ideas." Now I am persuaded
that to nine out of every ten who " get this lesson by heart," it conveys
little more information than if the sentence were in Esquimaux. They
do not know, with any distinctness, what " articulate sounds" means, —
nor what the phrase " common consent" means, — nor what " signs of
ideas" means ; and yet they know, without learning, ail that this formi
dable sentence proposes to teach. They know perfectly well that they
speak to their brothers and sisters in order to convey their ideas. —
Again : " An improper diphthong has but one of the vowels sounded ; as
ea in eagle, oa in boat." Does not every child who can spell the words
eagle and boat know this without hearing a word about improper diph
thongs? This species of instruction is like that of a man who, seeing a
boy running after a hoop, should stop him to make him learn by heart
that in order to run he must use, in a certain order, flexors and extensors
and the tendon Achillis. A little girl runs to her mother and says,
"Mary has given me Cowper's Task: this is what I wanted." But
Btill the little girl must learn, from her " grammar book," how to use the
N2
196 SCIENCE AND LITERATURE. [ESSAY II.
word what. And this is the process : — •' What is a kind of compound
relative, including both the antecedent and the relative, and is equivalent
to that which : as, This is what I wanted !" It really is wonderful that
such a system of instruction should be continued, — a system which most
laboriously attempts to teach that which a child will learn without teach
ing, and which is almost utterly abortive in itself. Children do not learn
to speak and write correctly by learning lessons like these. A gentle
man told me the other day that he learned one of Murray's grammars until
he could actually repeat it from beginning to end ; and he does not recol
lect that one particle of knowledge was conveyed to his mind by it.
While the attempt thus to teach grammar is so needless and so futile,
it occupies a great deal of a boy's time ; and by doing this it does great
mischief, since his time is precious indeed. He might learn a great deal
more of grammar by reading useful and interesting books, and by con
versation respecting science and literature with an educated master, than
by acquiring grammatical rules by rote. Grammar would be a collateral
acquisition : he would learn it while he was learning other important
things.
In general, science is preferable to literature, — the knowledge of things
to the knowledge of words. It is not by literature nor by merely literary
men that the business of human society is now carried on. *' Directly
and immediately, we have risen to the station which we occupy, not by
literature, not by the knowledge of extinct languages, but by the sciences
of politics, of law, of public economy, of commerce, of mathematics ;
by astronomy, by chymistry, by mechanics, by natural history. It is by
these that we are destined to rise yet higher. These constitute the busi
ness of society, and in these ought we to seek for the objects of educa
tion."*
Yet at school how little do our children learn of these ! The
reader will ask, what system of education we would recommend ; and
although the writer of these pages can make no pretensions to accuracy
of knowledge upon the subject, he thinks that an improved system would
embrace, even in ordinary boarding-schools, such topics of instruction as
these :
Reading.— Writing — Common Arithmetic — Book-keeping.
Geography — Natural History, embracing Zoology, Botany, Mineralogy, &c.
History of Mankind, especially the History of recent times.
Biography, particularly of moderns.
Natural Philosophy, embracing Mechanics, Pneumatics, Optics, &c. ; and illustrated by
experiments ; and embracing also Chymistry with experiments — Galvanism, &c.
Geology — Land Measuring — Familiar Geometry.
Elements of Political Science ; embracing Principles of Religious and Civil Liberty ;
of Civil Obedience; of Penal Law and the general Administration of Justice; of
Political Economy, &c.
If the reader should think that boys under sixteen can acquire little or
no knowledge of these multifarious subjects, he is to remember what the
enumeration excludes, and how vast a proportion of a boy's time the
excluded subjects now occupy. The whole, perhaps, of all his fore
noons is now devoted to Latin, — Latin is excluded. An hour before
breakfast is probably spent in learning sentences in a book of grammar :
— this mode of learning grammar is excluded. The amount of knowledge
wliich a boy might acquire during these hours is very great. The formal
* Art. 9 : Outlines of Philosophical Education, &c. Westm. Rev. No. 7.
CHAP. 11.] GEOGRAPHY— MAPS, ETC. 197
learning of spelling does not appear in our enumeration. In many schools,
this occupies a considerable portion of every week, if not of every day.
Spelling may be learned, and in fact is learned, like grammar, by habit. A
person reads a book, and without thinking of it, insensibly learns to spell c
that is, he perceives when he writes a word incorrectly, that it does not
bear the same appearance as he has been accustomed to observe. Some
persons when they are in doubt as to the orthography of a word, write it in
two or three ways, and their eye tells them which is correct. Here again is
a considerable saving of time. Nor is this all. I would i\oi formally teach
boys to write. I would not give them a copy-book to write, hour after
hour, Reward sweetens Labour, and Industry is praised ; but since they
would have occasion to write many things in the pursuit of their other
studies, I would require them to write those things fairly : — that is, once
more, they should learn to write while they are learning to think. Nor
would I formally teach them to read ; but since they would have many
books to peruse, they should frequently re ad them audibly; and by degrees
would learn to read them well. And they would be much more likely to
read them well, when the books were themselves delightful, than when
they went up to the master's desk to "read their lessons." Learning
"words and meanings," as the schoolboy calls it, is .another of the modes
in which much time is wasted. The conversation to which a young per
son listens, the books which he reads, are the best teachers of words
and meanings. He cannot help learning the meaning of words if they
frequently and familiarly occur ; and if they rarely occur, he will gain
very little by learning columns of Entick.
With this exclusion of some subjects of study, and alteration of the
mode of pursuing others, a schoolboy's time would really be much more
than doubled. Every year would practically be expanded into two or
three. Let us refer then to some of the subjects of education which
have been proposed.
In teaching geography, too little use is made of maps and too much of
books. A boy will learn%nore by examining a good map and by listening
to a few intelligible explanations, than by wearying himself with pages
of geographical lessons. Lesson-learning is the bane of education. It
disgusts and wearies young persons ; and except with extreme watchful
ness on the part of the teacher, is almost sure to degenerate into learn
ing words without ideas. It is not an easy thing for a child to learn half
a dozen paragraphs full of proper names, describing by what mountains
and seas half a dozen countries are bounded. Yet with much less labour
he might learn the facts more perfectly by his eye, and with less proba
bility of their passing from his memory. The lessons will not be remem
bered except as they convey ideas.
To most, if not to all, young persons, natural history is a delightful
study. Zoology, if accompanied by good plates, conveys permanent and
useful knowledge. Such a book as Wood's Zoography is a more valuable
medium of education than three-fourths of the professed school-books in
existence.
History and biography are, if it be not the fault of the teacher or his
books, delightful also. Modern times should always be preferred ;
partly because the knowledge they communicate is more certain and
more agreeable, and partly because it bears an incomparably greater
relation to the present condition of men ; and for that reason it is better
adapted to prepare the young person for the part which 'he is to take in
198 ELEMENTS OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. [ESSAY II.
active life. If historical books even for the young possessed less of the
character of mere chronicles of facts, and contained a few of those con
necting and illustrating paragraphs which a man of philosophical mind
knows how to introduce, history might become a powerful instrument in
imparting sound principles to the mind, and thus in meliorating the
general condition of society. Both biography and history should be
illustrated with good plates. The more we can teach through the eye
the better. It is hardly necessary to add, that a boy should not "learn
lessons" in either. He should read these books, and means should after
ward be taken to ascertain whether he has read them to good purpose.
There is, according to my views, no study that is more adapted to
please and improve young persons than that of natural philosophy.
When I was a schoolboy I attended a few lectures on the air-pump,
galvanism, &c., and I value the knowledge which I gained in three
evenings more highly than any other that I gained at school in as many
months. While our children are poring over lessons which disgust them,
we allow that magazine of wonders which Heaven has stored up to lie
unexplored and unnoticed. There are multitudes of young men and
women who are considered respectably educated, who are yet wonder
fully ignorant of the first principles of natural science. Many a boy
who has spent years upon Latin cannot tell how it comes to pass that water
rises in a pump ; and would stare if he were told that the decanters on
the table were not colder than the baize they stand on. I would rather
that my son were familiar with the subjects of Paley's Theology, than
that he should surpass Elizabeth Carter in a translation of Epictetus.
Respecting the propriety of attempting to convey any knowledge of
political science, many readers will probably doubt. Yet why? Is it
not upon the goodness or badness of political institutions that much of
the happiness or misery of mankind depends ? And what means are so
likely to amend the bad or to secure the continuance of the good, as the
intelligent opinion of a people ? We know that in all free states like our
own, public opinion is powerful. What then can be more obviously true than
that it should be made as just as we can 1 Nor would it be to much pur
pose to reply, that every master will teach his own political creed, and
only nurse up ignorant and angry squabbles. The same reason would
apply against inculcating religious principles : yet who thinks these
principles should be neglected because there are many creeds ? Besides,
one of the best means of educing political truth is by inquiry and dis
cussion, and these are likely to be rationally promoted by making the
elements of political knowledge a subject of education. To say the
truth, these elements are not really very abstruse or remote. Having-
once established the maxim — which no reasonable man disputes — that
the proper purpose of government is to secure the happiness of the com
munity, very little is wanted in applying the principle to particular ques
tions but honest conscientious thought. The difficulties are occasioned
not so much by the nature of the case as by the interests and prejudices
which habit and existing institutions introduce : and how shall these
interests and prejudices be so effectually prevented from influencing the
mind, as by the inculcation of simple truths before young persons mix
in the business of the world ?
These are general suggestions : details are foreign to our purpose ;
but from these general suggestions the intelligent parent will perceive the
kind of education that is proposed. If such an education would convey to
CHAP. 11.] APPROACHING REVOLUTION IN EDUCATION. 199
young persons some tolerable portion of " the knowledge and the spirit of
their age and country," if it would tend to make them "useful, respect
able, and happy" in the various relationships of life, the objects of intel
lectual education are, in the same degree, attained. So limited is the
opportunity of the young for acquiring knowledge in comparison with the
extent of knowledge itself, that upon some subjects little more is to be
effected during the years that are professedly devoted to education, than
to induce the desire of information and the habit of seeking it. A boy
cannot be expected to acquire very extensive information respecting the
application of the mechanical powers ; but if he sees the value and the
pleasure of studying it, he may hereafter benefit his country and the
world by his ingenuity. Or a boy cannot be expected to know more
than the elements of chymistry ; yet this knowledge may in future enable
him to add greatly to the comforts and conveniences of human life.
There are indications of a revolution in the system of education, which
will probably lead both to great and beneficial results. Science is
evidently gaining ground upon the judgments and affections of the public.
Elementary books of science are, indeed, the familiar companions of
young persons after they have left school. They lay aside tenses and
parsing for " conversations on chymistry." This is, so far, as it should
be ; and it would be better still if similar books had taken the place, at
school, of accents and quantities, and cases and genders, and lesson-
learning by rote. This revolution is also indicated by the topics which
are introduced into mechanics' institutes. These associations seem
almost instinctively to prefer science to literature, simply as such. —
Perhaps it will be said that science is the branch of knowledge which is
more peculiarly adapted to their employments in life. But the scientific
information which an individual acquires usually produces little imme
diate effect upon his mode of working. The carpenter cannot put up a
staircase the better for attending a lecture on chymistry. No : they
prefer science because it is preferable : preferable, not for mechanics
merely, but for man. It is of less consequence to man to know what
Horace wrote, or to be able to criticise the Greek anthology, than to
know by what laws the Deity regulates the operations of nature, and by
what means those operations are made subservient to the purposes of life.
A consideration of the kind of knowledge which education should
impart is, however, but one division of the general subject. The con
sideration of the best mode of imparting it is another. Various reasons
induce the writer to say little respecting the last, — of which reasons one
is, that he does not possess information that satisfies his own mind ; and
another, that it is not so immediately connected with the general purpose
of the work. That great improvements have recently been made in the
mode of conveying knowledge to large numbers is beyond dispute.
Whether, or to what extent, these improvements are applicable to schools
of twenty children, or to families of three or four, experience will be
likely to decide. With the prodigious power of giving publicity and
exciting discussion which men now possess, the best systems are likely
ultimately to prevail.
One observation may however safely be made, — that if two systems
are proposed, each with apparently nearly equal claims, and one of which
will be more pleasurable to the learner, that one is undoubtedly the best.
That which a boy delights in he will learn, and if the subjects of instruc
tion were as delightful as they ought to be, and the mode of conveying
200 FEMALE EDUCATION. [ESSAY II.
were pleasurable too, there would be an immense addition to the stock
of knowledge which a schoolboy acquires. We complain of the aversion
of the young to learning, and the young complain of their weariness and
disgust. It is in a great degree our own faults. Knowledge is delightful
to the human mind ; but we may, if we please, select such kinds of
knowledge, and adopt such modes of imparting it, as shall make the
whole system not delightful but repulsive. This, to a great extent, we
actually do. We may do the contrary if we will.
There does not appear any reason why the education of women should
differ, in its essentials, from that of men. The education which is good
for human nature is good for them. They are a part — and they ought to
be in a much greater degree than they are, a part — of the effective
contributors to the welfare and intelligence of the human family. In
intellectual as well as in other affairs, they ought to be fit helps to man.
The preposterous absurdities of chivalrous times still exert a wretched
influence over the character and the allotment of women. Men are not
polite but gallant : they do not act towards women as to beings of kindred
habits and character, as to beings who, like the other portion of mankind,
reason and reflect and judge, but as to beings who please, and whom men
are bound to please. Essentially there is no kindness, no politeness in
this ; but selfishness and insolence. He is the man of politeness who
evinces his respect for the female mind. He is the man of insolence
who tacitly says, when he enters into the society of women, that he needs
not to bring his intellects with him. I do not mean to affirm that these
persons intend insolence, or are conscious always of the real character
of their habits : they think they are attentive and polite ; and habit has
become so inveterate, that they really are not pleased if a woman, by
the vigour of her conversation, interrupts the pleasant trifling to which
they are accustomed. Unhappily, a great number of women tnemselves
prefer this varnished and gilded contempt to solid respect. They would
rather think themselves fascinating than respectable. They will not see,
and very often they do not see, the practical insolence with which they
are treated : yet what insolence is so great as that of half a dozen men
who, having been engaged in an intelligent conversation, suddenly ex
change it for frivolity if ladies enter ?
For this unhappy state of intellectual intercourse, female education is
in too great a degree adapted. A large class are taught less to think
than to shine. If they glitter, it matters little whether it be the glitter
of gilding or of gold. To be accomplished is of greater interest than to
be sensible. It is of more consequence to this class to charm by the tones
of a piano than to delight and invigorate by intellectual conversation. —
The effect is reciprocally bad. An absurd education disqualifies them
for intellectual exertion, and that very disqualification perpetuates the
degradation. I say the degradation, for the word is descriptive of the
fact. A captive is not the less truly bound because his chains are made
of silver and studded with rubies. If any community exhibits, in the
collective character of its females, an exception to these remarks, it is,
I think, exhibited among the Society of Friends. Within the last
twenty-five years the public have had many opportunities of observing
the intellectual condition of Quaker women. The public have not been
CHAP. 11.] FEMALE CHARACTER. 201
dazzled ; who would wish it ? but they have seen intelligence, sound
sense, considerateness, discretion. They have seen these qualities in a
degree, and with an approach to universality of diffusion, that is not found
in any other class of women as a class. There are, indeed, few or no
authors among them. The Quakers are not a writing people. If they
were, there is no reason to doubt that the intelligence and discretion
which are manifested by their women's actions and conversation would
be exhibited in their books.
Unhappily some of the causes which have produced these qualities
are not easily brought into operation by the public, One of the most
efficient of these causes consists in that economy of the society by which
its women have an extensive and a separate share in the internal adminis
tration of its affairs. In the exercise of this administration they are
almost inevitably taught to think and to judge. The instrument is power
ful ; but how shall that instrument be applied — where shall it be procured
— by the rest of the public ?
Not, however, that the intellectual education of these females is what
it ought to be, or what it might be. They, too, waste their hours over
"grammar books," and "geography books," and lesson books, — over
Latin sometimes, and Greek ; and, if the remark can be adventured on,
over stitching and hemming too. Something must be amiss when a girl
is kept two or three hours every day in acquiring the art of sewing.
What that something is, — whether it is practised like parsing because it
is common, or whether more accurate proficiency is expected than reason
would prescribe, I presume not to determine ; but it may safely be con
cluded, that if a portion equal to a fourth or a third part of those years
which are afforded to that mighty subject, the education of the human
mind, is devoted to the acquisition of one manual art like this, — more is
devoted than any one who reasons upon the subject can justify.
If then we were wise enough to regard women, and if women were
wise enough to regard themselves, with that real practical respect to
which they are entitled, and if the education they received was such as
that respect would dictate, we might hereafter have occasion to say, not
as it is now said, that " in England women are queens," but something
higher and greater ; we might say that in every thing, social, intellectual,
and religious, they were fit to co-operate with man, and to cheer and
assist him in his endeavours to promote his own happiness and the
happiness of his family, his country, and the world.
9
202 MORAL EDUCATION. [ESSAY II.
CHAPTER XII.
MORAL EDUCATION.
To a good Moral Education, two things are necessary : That the young
should receive information respecting what is right and what is wrong;
and that they should be furnished with motives to adhere to what is right.
We should communicate moral knowledge and moral dispositions.
I. In the endeavour to attain these ends, there is one great pervading
difficulty, consisting in the imperfection and impurity of the actual moral
condition of mankind. Without referring at present to that moral guidance
with which all men, however circumstanced, are furnished,* it is evident
that much of the practical moral education which an individual receives
is acquired by habit, and from the actions, opinions, and general example
of those around him. It is thus that, to a great extent, he acquires his
moral education. He adopts the notions of others, acquires insensibly a
similar set of principles, and forms to himself a similar scale of right and
wrong. — It is manifest that the learner in such a school will often be
taught amiss. Yet how can we prevent him from being so taught ? or
what system of moral education is likely to avail in opposition to the
contagion of example and the influence of notions insensibly, yet con
stantly, instilled ? It is to little purpose to take- a boy every morning
into a closet, and there teach him moral and religious truths for an hour,
if so soon as the hour is expired, he is left for the remainder of the day
in circumstances in which these truths are not recommended by any living
examples.
One of the first and greatest requisites therefore in moral education, is
a situation in which the knowledge and the practice of morality is incul
cated by the habitually virtuous conduct of others. The boy who is
placed in such a situation is in an efficient moral school, though he may
never hear delivered formal rules of conduct : so that if parents should
ask how they may best give their child a moral education, I answer, be
virtuous yourselves.
The young, however, are unavoidably subjected to bad example as to
good : many who may see consistent practical lessons of virtue in their
parents' parlours, must see much that is contrary elsewhere ; and we
must, if we can, so rectify the moral perceptions and invigorate the moral
dispositions, that the mind shall effectually resist the insinuation of evil.
Religion is the basis of morality. He that would impart moral know
ledge must begin by imparting a knowledge of God. We are not
advocates of formal instruction — of lesson-learning — in moral any more
than in intellectual education. Not that we affirm it is undesirable to
make a young person commit to memory maxims of religious truth and
moral duty. These things may be right, but they are not the really
efficient means of forming the moral character of the young. These
* See Essay i, c. 6.
CHAP. 12.] UNION OF MORAL PRINCIPLE, ETC. 203
maxims should recommend themselves to the judgment and affections,
mid this can hardly be hoped while they are presented only in a didactic
and insulated form to the mind. It is one of the characteristics of the
times, that there is a prodigious increase of books that are calculated to
benefit while they delight the young. These are effective instruments
in teaching morality. A simple narrative (of facts if it be possible), in
which integrity of principle and purity of conduct are recommended to
the affections as well as to the judgment, — without affectation, or im
probabilities, .or factitious sentiment, is likely to effect substantial good.
And if these associations are judiciously renewed, the good is likely to
be permanent as well as substantial. It is not a light task to write such
books nor to select them. Authors colour their pictures too highly.
They must, indeed, interest the young, or they will not be read with
pleasure ; but the anxiety to give interest is too great, and the effects
may be expected to diminish as the narrative recedes from congeniality
to the actual condition of mankind.
A judicious parent will often find that the moral culture of his child
may be promoted without seeming to have the object in view. There
are many opportunities which present themselves for associating virtue
with his affections, — for throwing in among the accumulating mass of
mental habits principles of rectitude which shall pervade and meliorate
the whole.
As the mind acquires an increased capacity of judging, I would offer
to the young person a sound exhibition, if such can be found, of the
principles of morality. He should know, with as great distinctness as
possible, not only his duty, but the reasons of it. It has very unfortu
nately happened, that those who have professed to deliver the principles
of morality, have commonly intermingled error with truth, or have set
out with propositions fundamentally unsound. These books effect, it is
probable, more injury than benefit. Their truths, for they contain truths,
are frequently deduced from fallacious premises, — from premises from
which it is equally easy to deduce errors. The fallacies of the moral
philosophy of Paley are now in part detected by the public : there was
a time when his opinions were regarded as more nearly oracular than
now, and at that time and up to the present time, the book has effectually
confused the moral notions of multitudes of readers. If the reader
thinks that the principles which have been proposed in the present essays
are just, he might derive some assistance from them in conducting the
moral education of his elder children.
There is negative as well as positive education, — some things to avoid,
as well as some to do. Of the things which are to be avoided the most
obvious is, unfit society for the young. If a boy mixes without restraint
in whatever society he pleases, his education will in general be practi
cally bad ; because the world in general is bad : its moral condition is
below the medium between perfect purity and utter depravation. Never
theless, he must at some period mix in society with almost all sorts of
men, and therefore he must be prepared for it. Very young children
should be excluded if possible from all unfit association, because they
acquire habits before they possess a sufficiency of counteracting prin
ciple. But if a parent has, within his own house, sufficiently endea
voured to confirm and invigorate the moral character of his child, it were
worse than fruitless to endeavour to retain him in the seclusion of a monk.
He should feel the necessity and acquire the power of resisting tempta*
204 MORALITY OF SOCIETY. [Essxy II.
tion by being subjected, gradually subjected, to that temptation which
must one day be presented to him. In the endlessly diversified circum
stances of families, no suggestion of prudence will be applicable to all ;
but if a parent is conscious that the moral tendency of his domestic
associations is good, it will probably be wise to send his children to day
schools rather than to send them wholly from his family. Schools, as
moral instruments, contain much both of good and evil : perhaps no
means will be more effectual in securing much of the good and avoiding
much of the evil, than that of allowing his children to spend their even
ings and early mornings at home.
In ruminating upon moral education, we cannot, at least in this age of
reading, disregard the influence of books. That a young person should
not read every book, is plain. No discrimination can be attempted here ;
but it may be observed that the best species of discrimination is that
which is supplied by a rectified condition of the mind itself. The best
species of prohibition is not that which a parent pronounces, but that
which is pronounced by purified tastes and inclinations in the mind of
the young. Not that the parent or tutor can expect that all or many of
his children will adequately make this judicious discrimination ; but if
he cannot do every thing, he can do much. There are many persons
whom a contemptible or vicious book disgusts, notwithstanding the
fascinations which it may contain. This disgust is the result of educa
tion in a large sense ; and some portion of this disgust and of the dis
crimination which results from it, may be induced into the mind of a boy
by having made him familiar with superior productions. He who is
accustomed to good society feels little temptation to join in the vocifera
tions of an alehouse.
And here it appears necessary to advert to the moral tendency of
studying, without selection, the ancient classics. If there are ob
jections to the study resulting from this tendency, they are to be super-
added to those which were stated in the last chapter on intellectual
grounds ; and both united will present motives to hesitation on the part
of a parent which he cannot, with any propriety, disregard. The mode
in which the writings of the Greek and Latin authors operate is not an
Ordinary mode. We do not approach them as we approach ordinary
books, but with a sort of habitual admiration which makes their influence,
whatever be its nature, peculiarly strong. That admiration would be
powerful alike for good or for evil. Whether the tendency be good or
evil, the admiration will make it great.
Now previous to inquiring what the positive ill tendency of these wri
tings is, — what is not their tendency? They are pagan books for Chris
tian children. They neither inculcate Christianity, nor Christian disposi
tions, nor the love of Christianity. But their tendency is not negative
merely. They do inculcate that which is adverse to Christianity and to
Christian dispositions. They set up, as exalted virtues, that which our own
religion never countenanced, if it has not specifically condemned. They
censure as faults, dispositions which our own religion enjoins, or disposi
tions so similar that the young will not discriminate between them. If we
enthusiastically admire these works, who will pTeteiid that we shall not ad
mire the moral qualities which they applaud ? Who will pretend that the
mind of a young person accurately adjusts his admiration to those subjects
only which Christianity approves ? No : we admire them as a whole ;
not perhaps every sentence or every sentiment, but we admire their gen
CHAP. 12.] NORRISIAN PRIZE ESSAY. 205
eral spirit and character. In a word, we admire that which our own
religion teaches us not to imitate. And what makes the effect the more
intense is, that we do this at the period of life when we are every day
acquiring our moral notions. We mingle them up with our early asso
ciations respecting right and wrong — with associations which commonly
extend their influence over the remainder of life.*
A very able essay, which obtained the Norrisian medal at Cambridge
for 1825, forcibly illustrates these propositions ; and the illustration is so
much the more valuable because it appears to have been undesigned.
The title is, " No valid argument can be drawn from the incredulity of
the heathen philosophers, against the truth of the Christian religion."!
The object of the work is to show, by a reference to their writings, that
the general system of their opinions, feelings, prejudices, principles, and
conduct was utterly incongruous with Christianity ; and that, in conse
quence of these principles, &c., they actually did reject the religion.
This is shown with great clearness of evidence : it is shown that a
class of men who thought and wrote as these philosophers thought and
wrote, would be extremely indisposed to adopt the religion and morality
which Christ had introduced. Now this appears to me to be conclusive
of the question as to the present tendency of their writings. If the
principles and prejudices of these persons indisposed them to the ac
ceptance of Christianity, those prejudices and principles will indispose
the man who admires and imbibes them in the present day. Not that
they will now produce the effect in the same degree. We are now sur
rounded with many other media by which opinions and principles are
induced, and these are frequently influenced by the spirit of Christianity.
The study and the admiration of these writings may not therefore be
expected to make men absolutely reject Christianity, but to indispose
them, in a greater or less degree, for the hearty acceptance of Christian
principles as their rules of conduct.
Propositions have been made to supply young persons wiih selected
ancient authors, or perhaps with editions in which exceptionable passages
are expunged. I do not think that this will greatly avail. It is not, I
think, the broad indecencies of Ovid, nor any other insulated class of
sentiments or descriptions that effects the great mischief ; it is the per
vading spirit and tenor of the whole, — a spirit and tenor from which Chris
tianity is not only excluded, but which is actually and greatly adverse to
Christianity. There is indeed one considerable benefit that is likely to
result from such a selection, and from expunging particular passages.
Boys in ordinary schools do not learn enough of the classics to acquire
much of their general moral spirit, but they acquire enough to be in
fluenced, and injuriously influenced, by being familiar with licentious
language : and at any rate he essentially subserves the interests of mo
rality who diminishes the power of opposing influences, though he cannot
wholly destroy it.
Finally, the mode in which intellectual education, generally, is acquired,
may be made either an auxiliary of moral education or the contrary. A
young person may store his mind with literature and science, and to
gether with the acquisition, either corrupt his principles or amend and in
vigorate them. The world is so abundantly supplied with the means of
* " All education which inculcates Christian opinions with pagan tastes, awakens con
science but to tamper with it." Schimmelpenninck : Biblical Fragments,
f By James Amiraux Jeremie.
206 CONSCIENCE. [ESSAY II.
knowledge — there are so many paths to the desired temple, that we may
choose our own and yet arrive at it. He that thinks he cannot pos
sess sufficient knowledge without plucking the fruit of unhallowed trees,
surely does not know how boundless is the variety and number of those
which bear wholesome fruit. He cannot indeed know every thing with
out studying the bad : which, however, is no more to be recommended
in literature than in life. A man cannot know all the varieties of human
society, without taking up his abode with felons and cannibals.
II. But in reality, the second division of moral education is the more
important of the two, — the supply of motives to adhere to what is right. Our
great deficiency is not in knowledge, but in obedience. Of the offences
which an individual commits against the moral law, the great majority
are committed in the consciousness that he is doing wrong. Moral edu
cation, therefore, should be directed not so much to informing the young
what they ought to do, as to inducing those moral dispositions and princi
ples which will make them adhere to what they know to be right.
The human mind, of itself, is in a state something like that of men in
a state of nature, where separate and conflicting desires and motives are
not restrained by any acknowledged head. Government, as it is neces
sary to society, is necessary in the individual mind. To the internal
community of the heart the great question is, Who shall be the legislator ?
who shall regulate and restrain the passions and affections? who shall
command and direct the conduct? — To these questions the breast of
every man supplies him with an answer. He knows, because he feels,
that there is a rightful legislator in his own heart : he knows, because
he feels, that he ought to obey it.
By whatever designation the reader may think it fit to indicate this
legislator, whether he calls it the law written in the heart, or moral sense,
or moral instinct, or conscience, we arrive at one practical truth at last ;
that to the moral legislation which does actually subsist in the human
mind, it is right that the individual should conform his conduct.
The great point then is, to induce him to do this, — to induce him,
when inclination and this law are at variance, to sacrifice the inclination
to the law : and for this purpose it appears proper, first, to impress him
with a high, that is with an accurate, estimate of the authority of the
law itself. We have seen that this law embraces an actual expression
of the will of God ; and we have seen that even although the conscience
may not always be adequately enlightened, it nevertheless constitutes, to
the individual, an authoritative law. It is to the conscientious internal
apprehension of rectitude that we should conform our conduct. Such
appears to be the will of God.
It should therefore be especially inculcated, that the dictate of con
science is never to be sacrificed, that whatever may be the consequences
of conforming to it, they are to be ventured. Obedience is to be uncon
ditional, — no questions about the utility of the law, — no computations of
the consequences of obedience, — no presuming upon the lenity of the
divine government. " It is important so to regulate the understanding and
imagination of the young, that they may be prepared to obey, even where
they do not see the reasons of the commands of God. We should certainly
endeavour, where we can, to show them the reasons of the divine com
mands, and this more and more as their understandings gain strength ; but
let it be obvious to them that we do ourselves consider it as quite sufficient
if God has commanded us to do or to avoid any thing."*
* Carpenter : Principles of Education.
CHAP. 12.] SUBJUGATION OF THE WILL 207
Obedience to this internal legislator is not. like obedience to civil
government, enforced. The law is promulgated, but the passions and
inclinations can refuse obedience if they will. Penalties and rewards
are indeed annexed, but he who braves the penalty and disregards the
reward may continue to violate the law. Obedience therefore must be
voluntary, and hence the paramount importance, in moral education, of
habitually subjecting the will. " Parents," says Hartley, " should labour
from the earliest dawnings of understanding and desire, to check the
growing obstinacy of the will, curb all sallies of passion, impress the
deepest, most amiable, reverential, and awful impressions of God, a future
state, and all sacred things." — " Religious persons in all periods, who
have possessed the light of revelation, have in a particular manner been
sensible that the habit of self control lies at the foundation of moral
worth."* There is nothing mean or mean-spirited in this. It is mag
nanimous in philosophy, as it is right in morals. It is the subjugation of
the lower qualities of our nature to wisdom and to goodness.
The subjugation of the will to the dictates of a higher law must be
endeavoured, if we would succeed, almost in infancy and in very little
things ; from the earliest dawnings, as Hartley says, of understanding
and desire. Children must first obey their parents and those who have
the care of them. The habit of sacrificing the will to another judgment
being thus acquired, the mind is prepared to sacrifice the will to the
judgment pronounced within itself. Show, in every practicable case,
why you cross the inclinations of a child. Let obedience be as little
blind as it may be. It is a great failing of some parents that they will
not descend from the imperative mood, and that they seem to think it a
derogation from their authority to place their orders upon any other foun
dation than their wills. But if the child sees — and children are won
derfully quick-sighted in such things — if the child sees that the will is
that which governs his parent, how shall he efficiently learn that the will
should not govern himself ?
The internal law carries with it the voucher of its own reasonable
ness. A person does not need to be told that it is proper and right to
obey that law. The perception of this rectitude and propriety is co
incident with the dictates themselves. Let the parent then very fre
quently refer his son and his daughter to their own minds ; let him teach
them to seek for instruction there. There are dangers on every hand,
and dangers even here. The parent must refer them, if it be possible,
not merely to conscience, but to enlightened conscience. He must unite
the two branches of moral education, and communicate the knowledge
while he endeavours to induce the practice of morality. Without this,
his children may obey their consciences, and yet be in error and per
haps in fanaticism. With it, he may hope that their conduct will be
both conscientious, and pure, and right. Nevertheless an habitual refer
ence to the internal law is the great, the primary concern ; for the great
majority of a man's moral perceptions are accordant with truth.
There is one consequence attendant upon this habitual reference to
the internal law which is highly beneficial to the moral character. It
leads us to fulfil the wise instruction of antiquity, Know thyself. It
makes us look within ourselves ; it brings us acquainted with the little
and busy world that is within us, with its many inhabitants and their
* Carpenter : Principles of Education.
208 HABITS OF INTROVERSION. [ESSAY II.
dispositions, and with their tendencies to evil or to good. This is valu
able knowledge ; and knowledge for want of which, it may be feared,
the virtue of many has been wrecked in the hour of tempest. A man's
enemies are those of his own household ; and if he does not know their
insidiousness and their strength, if he does not know upon what to de
pend for assistance, nor where is the probable point of attack, it is not
likely that he will efficiently resist. Such a man is in the situation of
the governor of an unprepared and surprised city. He knows not to
whom to apply for effectual help, and finds perhaps that those whom ho
has loved and trusted are the first to desert or betray him. He feebly
resists, soon capitulates, and at last scarcely knows why he did not
make a successful defence.
It is to be regretted that, in the moral education which commonly
obtains, whether formal or incidental, there is little that is calculated to
produce this acquaintance with our own minds ; little that refers us to
ourselves, and much, very much, that calls and sends us away. Of many
it is not too much to say that they receive almost no moral culture. The
plant of virtue is suffered to grow as a tree grows in a forest, and takes
its chance of storm or sunshine. This, which is good for oaks and
pines, is not good for man. The general atmosphere around him is
infected, and the juices of the moral plant are often themselves unhealthy.
In the nursery, formularies and creeds are taught ; but this does not
refer the child to its own mind. Indeed, unless a wakeful solicitude is
maintained by those who teach, the tendency is the reverse. The mind
is kept from habits of introversion, even in the offices of religion, by
practically directing its attention to the tongue. " Many, it is to be
feared, imagine that they are giving their children religious principles
when they are only teaching them religious truths." You cannot impart
moral education as you teach a child to spell.
From the nursery a boy is sent to school. He spends six or eight
hours of the day in the schoolroom, and the remainder is employed in
the sports of boyhood. Once, or it may be twice, in the day he repeats
a form of prayer ; and on one day in the week he goes to church.
There is very little in all this to make him acquainted with the internal
community ; and habit, if nothing else, calls his reflections away.
From school or from college the business of life is begun. It can
require no argument to show that the ordinary pursuits of life have little
tendency to direct a man's meditations to the moral condition of his own
mind, or that they have much tendency to employ them upon other and
very different things.
Nay, even the offices of 'public devotion have almost a tendency to
keep the mind without itself. What if we say that the self contempla
tion which even natural religion is likely to produce, is obstructed by the
forms of Christian worship ? " The transitions from one office of devo
tion to another, are contrived like scenes in the drama, to supply the
mind with a succession of diversified engagements."* This supply of
diversified engagements, whatever may be its value in other respects,
lias evidently the tendency of which we speak. It is not designed to
supply, and it does not supply, the opportunity for calmness of recollec
tion. A man must abstract himself from the external service if he would
investigate the character and dispositions of the inmates of his own
* Paley, p. 3, b. 5, c. 5.
CHAP. 12.] KNOWLEDGE OF OUR OWN MINDS. 209
breast Even the architecture and decorations of churches come in aid
of the general tendency. They make the eye an auxiliary of the ear,
and both keep the mind at a distance from those concerns which are
peculiarly its own ; from contemplating its own weaknesses and wants ;
and from applying to God for that peculiar help which perhaps itself
only needs, and which God only can impart. So little are the course
of education and the subsequent engagements of life calculated to foster
this great auxiliary of moral character. It is difficult, in the wide world, to
foster it as much as is needful. Nothing but wakeful solicitude on the
part of the parent can be expected sufficiently to direct the mind within,
while the general tendency of our associations and habits is to keep it
without. Let him however do what he can. The habitual reference to
the dictates of conscience may be promoted in the very young mind.
This habit, like others, becomes strong by exercise. He that is faithful
in little things is intrusted with more; and this is true in iespect of
knowledge as in respect of other departments of the Christian life.
Fidelity of obedience is commonly succeeded by increase of light, and
every act of obedience and every addition to knowledge furnishes new
and still stronger inducements to persevere in the same course. Acquaint
ance with ourselves is the inseparable attendant of this course. We
know the character and dispositions of our own inmates by frequent
association with them : and if this fidelity to the internal law, and conse
quent knowledge of the internal world, be acquired in early life, the
parent may reasonably hope that it will never wholly lose its efficiency
amid the bustles and anxieties of the world.
Undoubtedly, this most efficient security of moral character is not
likely fully to operate during the continuance of the present state of
society and of its institutions. It is I believe true, that the practice of
morality is most complete among those persons who peculiarly recom
mend a reference to the internal law, and whose institutions, religious
and social, are congruous with the habit of this reference. Their history
exhibits a more unshaken adherence to that which they conceived to be
right, — fewer sacrifices of conscience to interest or the dread of suffer
ing, — less of trimming between conflicting motives, — more, in a word,
of adherence to rectitude without regard to consequences. We have
seen that such persons are likely to form accurate views of rectitude ;
but whether they be accurate or not, does not affect the value of their
moral education as securing fidelity to the degree of knowledge which
they possess. It is of more consequence to adhere steadily to con
science, though it may not be perfectly enlightened, than to possess per
fect knowledge without consistency of obedience. But in reality they
who obey most know most ; and we say that the general testimony of
experience is, that those persons exhibit the most unyielding fidelity to
the moral law whose moral education has peculiarly directed them to
the law written in the heart.
0
210 EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE. [ESSAY II.
CHAPTER XIII.
EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE.
WHETHER the education of those who are not able to pay for educating
themselves ought to be a private or a national charge, it is not our present
business to discuss. It is, in this country at least, left to the voluntary
benevolence of individuals, and this consideration may apologize for a
brief reference to it here.
It is not long since it was a question whether the poor should be edu
cated or not. That time is past, and it may be hoped the time will soon
be passed when it shall be a question, To what extent ? — that the time
will soon arrive when it will be agreed that no limit needs to be assigned
to the education of the poor, but that which is assigned by their own
necessities, or which ought to be assigned to the education of all men.
There appears no more reason for excluding a poor man from the fields
of knowledge than for preventing him from using his eyes. The mental
and the visual powers were alike given to be employed. A man should
indeed " shut his eyes from seeing evil" but whatever reason there is for
letting him see all that is beautiful, and excellent, and innocent in nature
or in art, there is the same for enabling his mind to expatiate in the fields
of knowledge.
The objections which are urged against this extended education are
of the same kind as those which were urged against any education.
They insist upon the probability of abuse. It was said, They who can
write may forge ; they who can read may read what is pernicious. The
answer was, or it might have been, They who can hear, may hear pro-
faneness and learn it ; they who can see, may see bad examples and
follow them : but are we therefore to stop our ears and put out our eyes?
It is now said, that if you give extended education to the poor, you will
elevate them above their stations, that a critic would not drive a wheel
barrow, and that a philosopher would not shoe horses or weave cloth.
But these consequences are without the limits of possibility; because
the question for a poor man is, whether he shall perform such offices or
starve : and surely it will not be pretended that hungry men would rather
criticise than eat. Science and literature would not solicit a poor man
from his labour more irresistibly than ease and pleasure do now; yet in
spite of these solicitations what is the fact ? That the poor man works
for his bread. This is the inevitable result.
It is not the positive but the relative amount of knowledge that elevates
a man above his station in society. It is not because he knows much,
but because he knows more than his fellows. Educate all, and none
will fancy that he is superior to his neighbours. Besides, we assign to
the possession of knowledge, effects which are produced rather by habits
of life. Ease and comparative leisure are commonly attendant upon
extensive knowledge, and leisure and ease disqualify men for the labori
ous occupations much more than the knowledge itself.
There are some collateral advantages of an extended education of the
.CHAP. '13.] ADVANTAGES OF EXTENDED EDUCATION. 211
people which are of much importance. It has been observed, that if the
French had been an educated people, many of the atrocities of their revo
lution would never have happened, — and I believe it. Furious mobs are
composed, not of enlightened, but of unenlightened men, — of men in
whom the passions are dominant over the judgment, because the judg
ment has not been exercised and informed, and habituated to direct the
conduct. A factious declaimer can much less easily influence a number
of men who acquired at school the rudiments of knowledge, and who
have subsequently devoted their leisure to a mechanics' institute, than a
multitude who cannot write or read, and who have never practised rea
soning and considerate thought. And as the education of a people pre
vents political evil, it effects political good. Despotic rulers well know-
that knowledge is inimical to their power. This simple fact is a suffi
cient reason to a good and wise man, to approve knowledge and extend it.
The attention to public institutions and public measures which is insepa
rable from an educated population, is a great good. We all know that
the human heart is such that the possession of power is commonly
attended with a desire to increase it, even in opposition to the general
weal. It is acknowledged that a check is needed, and no check is either
so efficient or so safe as that of a watchful and intelligent public mind :
so watchful, that it is prompt to discover and to expose what is amiss ;
so intelligent, that it is able to form rational judgments respecting the
nature and the means of amendment. In all public institutions there
exists, and it is happy that there does exist, a sort of vis inertias which
habitually resists change. This, which is beneficial as a general ten
dency, is often injurious from its excess : the state of public institutions
almost throughout the world bears sufficient testimony to the truth that
they need alteration and amendment faster than they receive it, — that
the internal resistance of change is greater than is good for man. Un
happily, the ordinary way in which a people have endeavoured to amend
their institutions has been by some mode of violence. If you ask
when a nation acquired a greater degree of freedom, you are referred to
some era of revolution, and probably of blood. These are not proper —
certainly they are not Christian — remedies for the disease. It is becoming
an undisputed proposition that no bad institution can permanently stand
against the distinct opinion of a people. This opinion is likely to be
universal and to be intelligent only among an enlightened community.
Now that reformation of public institutions which results from public
opinion is the very best in kind, and is likely to be the best in its mode:
— in its kind, because public opinion is the proper measure of the needed
alteration ; and in its mode, because alterations which result from such
a cause are likely to be temperately made.
It may be feared that some persons object to an extended education
of the people on these very grounds which we propose as recommenda
tions ; that they regard the tendency of education to produce examina
tion, and if need be, alteration of established institutions, as a reason for
withholding it from the poor. To these, it is a sufficient answer that if
increase of knowledge and habits of investigation tend to alter any estab
lished institution, it is fit that it should be altered. There appears no
means of avoiding this conclusion, unless it can be shown that increase
of knowledge is usually attended with depravation of principle, and that
in proportion as the judgment is exercised it decides amiss.
Generally, that intellectual education is good for a poor man which is
03
212 HABITS OF INQUIRY. [ESSAY II.
good for his richer neighbours ; in other words that is good for the poor
which is good for man. There may be exceptions to the general rule, but
he who is disposed to doubt the fitness of a rich man's education for the
poor, will do well to consider first whether the rich man's education is
fit for himself. The children of persons of property can undoubtedly
learn much more than those of a labourer, and the labourer must select,
from the rich man's system, a part only for his own child. But this does
not affect the general conclusion. The parts which he ought to select
are precisely those parts which are most necessary and beneficial to
the rich.
Great as have been the improvements in the methods of conveying
knowledge to the poor, there is reason to think that they will be yet
greater. Some useful suggestions for the instruction of older children
may I think be obtained from the systems in infant schools. In a well-
conducted infant school, children acquire much knowledge, and they
acquire it with delight. This delight is of extreme importance : perhaps
it may safely be concluded, respecting all innocent knowledge, that if a
child acquired it with pleasure, he is well taught. It is worthy observa
tion, that in the infant system, lesson-learning is nearly or wholly excluded.
It is not to be expected that in the time which is devoted professedly to
education by the children of the poor, much extent of knowledge can be
acquired ; but something may be acquired which is of much more conse
quence than mere school-learning, — the love and the habits of inquiry.
If education be so conducted that it is a positive pleasure to a boy to
learn, there is little doubt that this love and habit will be induced. Here
is the great advantage of early intellectual culture. The busiest have
some leisure, — leisure which they may employ ill or well ; and that they
will employ it well may reasonably be expected when knowledge is thus
attractive for its own sake. That this effect is in a considerable degree
actually produced, is indicated by the improved character of the books
which poor men read, and in the prodigious increase in the number of
those books. The supply and demand are correspondent. Almost every
year produces books for the labouring classes of a higher intellectual
order than the last. A journeyman in our days can understand and
relish a work which would have been like Arabic to his grandfather.
Of moral education we say nothing here, except that the principles
which are applicable to other classes of mankind are obviously applicable
to the poor. With respect to the inculcation of peculiar religious opinions
on the children who attend schools voluntarily supported, there is mani
festly the same reason for inculcating them in this case as for teaching
them at all. This supposes that the supporters of the school are not
themselves divided in their religious opinions. If they are, and if the
adherents to no one creed are able to support a school of their own,
there appears no ground upon which they can rightly refuse to support
a school in which no religious peculiarities are taught. It is better that
intellectual knowledge, together with imperfect religious principles, should
be communicated, than that children should remain in darkness. There
is indeed some reason to suspect the genuineness of that man's philan
thropy who refuses to impart any knowledge to his neighbours because
he cannot, at the same time, teach them his own creed.
CHAP. 14.] AMUSEMENTS— THE STAGE. 213
CHAPTER XIV.
AMUSEMENTS.
IT is a remarkable circumstance, that in almost all Christian countries,
many of the public and popular amusements have been regarded as
objectionable by the more sober and conscientious part of the community.
This opinion could scarcely have been general unless it had been just :
yet why should a people prefer amusements of which good men feel
themselves compelled to disapprove ? Is it because no public recreation
can be devised of which the evil is not greater than the good ? or because
the inclinations of most men are such that if it were devised, they would
not enjoy it 1 It may be feared that the desires which are seeking for
gratification are not themselves pure ; and pure pleasures are not con
genial to impure minds. The real cause of the objectionable nature of
many popular diversions is to be sought in the want of virtue in the
people.
Amusement is confessedly a subordinate concern in life. It is neither
the principal nor among the principal objects of proper solicitude. No
reasonable man sacrifices the more important thing to the less, and that
a man's religious and moral condition is of incomparably greater import
ance than his diversion, is sufficiently plain. In estimating the propriety
or rather the lawfulness of a given amusement, it may safely be laid
down, That none is lawful of which the aggregate consequences are
injurious to morals : nor, if its effects upon the immediate agents are, in
general, morally bad : nor, if it occasions needless pain and misery to
men or to animals : nor, lastly, if it occupies much time, or is attended
with much expense. Respecting all amusements, the question is not
whether, in their simple or theoretical character, they are defensible, but
whether they are defensible in their actually existing state.
THE DRAMA. So that if a person, by way of showing the propriety
of theatrical exhibitions, should ask whether there was any harm in a
man's repeating a composition before others and accompanying it with
appropriate gestures, he would ask a very foolish question ; because he
would ask a question that possesses little or no relevancy to the subject,
What are the ordinary effects of the stage upon those who act on it ?
One and one only answer can be given, — that whatever happy exceptions
there may be, the effect is bad ; that the moral and religious character
of actors is lower than that of persons in other professions. " It is an
undeniable fact, for the truth of which we may safely appeal to every age
and nation, that the situation of the performers, particularly of those of
the female sex, is remarkably unfavourable to the maintenance and
growth of the religious and moral principle, and of course highly danger
ous to their eternal interests."*
Therefore, if I take my seat in the theatre, I have paid three or five
* Wilberforce : Practical View, c. 4, s. 5.
214 MASQUERADES [ESSAY II.
shillings as an inducement to a number of persons to subject their prin
ciples to extreme danger ; — and the defence which I make is, that I am
amused by it. Now we affirm that this defence is invalid ; that it is a
defence which reason pronounces to be absurd, and morality to be vicious.
Yet I have no other to make : it is the sum total of my justification.
But this, which is sufficient to decide the morality of the question, is
not the only nor the chief part of the evil. The evil which is suffered
by performers may be more intense, but upon spectators and others it is
more extended. The night of a play is the harvest-time of iniquity,
where the profligate and the sensual put in their sickles and reap. It is
to no purpose to say that a man may go to a theatre or parade a saloon
without taking part in the surrounding licentiousness. All who are there
promote the licentiousness ; for if none was there, there would be no
licentiousness ; that is to say, if none purchased tickets there would be
neither actors to be depraved, nor dramas to vitiate, nor saloons to degrade,
and corrupt, and shock us. The whole question of the lawfulness of the
dramatic amusements, as they are ordinarily conducted, is resolved into
a very simple thing : — after the doors on any given night are closed,
have the virtuous or the vicious dispositions of the attenders been in the
greater degree promoted ? Every one knows that the balance is on the
side of vice, and this conclusively decides the question, — " Is it lawful
to attend ?"
The same question is to be asked, and the same answer I believe will
be returned, respecting various other assemblies for purposes of amuse
ment. They do more harm than good. They please, but they injure us ;
and what makes the case still stronger is, that the pleasure is frequently
such as ought not be enjoyed. A tippler enjoys pleasure in becoming
drunk, but he is not to allege the gratification as a set-off against the
immorality. And so it is with no small portion of the pleasures of an
assembly. Dispositions are gratified which it were wiser to thwart ; and
to speak the truth, if the dispositions of the mind were such as they ought
to be, many of these modes of diversion would be neither relished nor
resorted to. Some persons try to persuade themselves that charity forms
a part of their motive in attending such places ; as when the profits of
the night are given to a benevolent institution. They hope, I suppose,
that though it would not be quite right to go if benevolence wert? not a
gainer, yet that the end warrants the means. But if these persons are
charitable, let them give their guinea without deducting half for purposes
of questionable propriety. Religious amusements, such as oratorios and
the like, form one of those artifices of chicanery by which people cheat
or try to cheat themselves. The music, say they, is sacred, is devo
tional ; and we go to hear it as we go to church : it excites and animates
our religious sensibilities. This, "in spite of the solemnity of the asso
ciation, is really ludicrous. These scenes subserve religion no more
than they subserve chymistry. They do not increase its power any
more than the power of the steam-engine. As it respects Christianity,
it is all imposition and fiction ; and it is unfortunate that some of the
most solemn topics of our religion are brought into such unworthy and
debasing alliance.*
MASQUERADES are of a more decided character. If the pleasure which
people derive from meeting in disguises consisted merely in the " fun
and drollery" of the thing, we might wonder to see so many children of
* See also Essay ii, c. 1.
CHAP. 14.] THE FIELD. 215
five and six feet high, and leave them perhaps to their childishness : — but
the truth is that to many the zest of the concealment consists in the op
portunity which it gives of covert licentiousness ; of doing that in secret
of which openly they would profess to be ashamed. Some men and
some women who affect propriety when the face is shown, are glad of a
few hours of concealed libertinism. It is a time in whicli principles are
left to guard the citadel of virtue without the auxiliary of public opinion.
And ill do they guard it ! It is no equivocal indication of the slender
power of a person's principles when they do not restrain him any longer
than his misdeeds will produce exposure. She who is immodest at a mas
querade, is modest nowhere. She may affect the language of delicacy
and maintain external decorum, but she has no purity of mind.
THE FIELD. If we proceed with the calculation of the benefits and
mischiefs of field sports, in the merchant-like manner of debtor and
creditor, the balance is presently found to be greatly against them. The
advantages to him who rides after hounds and shoots pheasants, are —
that he is amused, and possibly that his health is improved ; some of the
disadvantages are — that it is unpropitious to the influence of religion and
the dispositions which religion induces; that it expends money and time
which a man ought to be able to employ better ; and that it inflicts gra
tuitous misery upon the inferior animals. The value of the pleasure
cannot easily be computed ; and as to health it may pass for nothing, for
if a man is so little concerned for his health that he will not take exer
cise without dogs and guns, he has no reason to expect other men to con
cern themselves for it in remarking upon his actions. And then for the
other side of the calculation. — That field sports have any tendency to
make a man better, no one will pretend : and no one who looks around
him will doubt that their tendency is in the opposite direction. It is not
necessary to show that every one who rides after the dogs is a worse
man in the evening than he was in the morning : the influence of such
things is to be sought in those with whom they are habitual. Is the
character of the sportsman, then, distinguished by religious sensibility ?
No. By activity of benevolence ? No. By intellectual exertion ? No.
By purity of manners ? No. Sportsmen are not the persons who diffuse
the light of Christianity, or endeavour to rectify the public morals, or to
extend the empire of knowledge. Look again at the clerical sportsman.
Is he usually as exemplary in the discharge of his functions as those who
decline such diversions ? His parishioners know that he is not. So,
then, the religious and moral tendency of field sports is bad. It is not
necessary to show how the ill effect is produced. It is sufficient that it
actually is produced.
As to the expenditure of time and money, I dare say we shall be told
that a man has a right to employ both as he chooses. We have hereto
fore seen that he has no such right. Obligations apply just as truly to
the mode of employing leisure and property, as to the use which a man
may make of a pound of arsenic. The obligations are not indeed alike
enforced in a court of justice: the misuserof arsenic is carried to prison,
the misuser of time and money awaits as sure an inquiry at another tri
bunal. But no folly is more absurd than that of supposing we have a
right to do whatever the law does not punish. Such is the state of man
kind, so great is the amount of misery and degradation, and so great are
the effects of money and active philanthropy in meliorating this condition
of our species, that it is no light thing for a man to employ his time and
216 THE TURF. [ESSAY IL
property upon vain and needless gratifications. It is no light thing to
keep a pack of hounds and to spend days and weeks in riding after them.
As to the torture which field sports inflict upon animals, it is wonderful
to observe our inconsistencies. He who has, in the day, inflicted upon
half a dozen animals almost as much torture as they are capable of sus
taining, and who has wounded perhaps half a dozen more and left them
to die of pain or starvation, gives in the evening a grave reproof to his
child whom he sees amusing himself with picking off the wings of flies !
The infliction of pain is not that which gives pleasure to the sportsman
(this were ferocious depravity), but he voluntarily inflicts the pain in
order to please himself. Yet this man sighs and moralizes over the
cruelty of children ! An appropriate device for a sportsman's dress,
would be a pair of balances, of which one scale was laden with "virtue
and humanity," and the other with " sport ;" the latter should be prepon
derating and lifting the other into the air.
THE TURF is still worse, partly because it is a stronghold of gam
bling, and therefore an efficient cause of misery and wickedness. It is
an amusement of almost unmingled evil. But upon whom is the evu
chargeable ? Upon the fifty or one hundred persons only who bring
horses and make bets 1 No. Every man participates who attends the
course. The great attraction of many public spectacles, and of this
among others, consists more in the company than in the ostensible object
of amusement. Many go to a race-ground who cannot tell when they
return what horse has been the victor. Every one, therefore, who is
present, must take his share of the mischief and the responsibility.
It is the same with respect to the gross and vulgar diversions of box
ing, wrestling, and feats of running and riding. There is the same
almost pure and unmingled evil, — the same popularity resulting from the
concourses who attend, and by consequence, the participation and respon
sibility in those who do attend. The drunkenness, and the profaneness,
and the debauchery, lie in part at the doors of those who are merely
lookers on ; and if these lookers on make pretensions to purity of char
acter, their example is so much the more influential, and their responsi
bility tenfold increased. Defences of these gross amusements are
ridiculous. One tells us of keeping up the national spirit, which is the
same thing as to say that a human community is benefited by inducing
into it the qualities of the bull-dog. Another expatiates upon invigora
ting the muscular strength of the poor, as if the English poor were under
so little necessity to labour and to strengthen themselves by labour, that
artificial means must be devised to increase their toil.
The vicissitudes of folly are endless : the vulgar games of the present
day may soon be displaced by others, the same in genus but differing in
species. At the present moment, wrestling has become the point of in
terest. A man is conveyed across the kingdom to try whether he can
throw down another, and when he has done it, grave narratives of the
feat are detailed in half the newspapers of the country ! There is a
grossness, a vulgarity, a want of mental elevation in these things, which
might induce the man of intelligence to reprobate them even if the voice
of morality were silent. They are remains of barbarism, — evidences
that barbarism still maintains itself among us, — proofs that the higher
qualities of our nature are not sufficiently dominant over the lower.
These grossnesses will pass away, as the deadly conflicts of men with
beasts are passed already. Our posterity will wonder at the barbarism
CHAP. 15.] DUELLING. 217
of us their fathers, as we wonder at the barbarism of Rome. Let him
then who loves intellectual elevation, advance beyond the present times,
and anticipate, in the recreations which he encourages, that period when
these diversions shall be regarded as indicating one of the intermediate
stages between the ferociousness of mental darkness and the purity of
mental light.
These criticisms might be extended to many other species of amuse
ment ; and it is humiliating to discover that the conclusion will very fre
quently be the same, — that the evil outbalances the good, and that there
are no grouds upon which a good man can justify a participation in them.
In thus concluding, it is possible that the reader may imagine that we
would exclude enjoyment from the world, and substitute a system of
irreproachable austerity. He who thinks this is unacquainted with the
nature and sources of our better enjoyments. It is an ordinary mistake
to imagine that pleasure is great only when it is vivid or intemperate, as
a child fancies it were more delightful to devour a pound of sugar at once
than to eat an ounce daily in his food. It is happily and kindly provided
that the greatest sum of enjoyment is that which is quietly and constantly
induced. No men understand the nature of pleasure so well or possess
it so much as those who find it within their own doors. If it Avere not
that moral education is so bad. multitudes would seek enjoyment and find
it here, who now fancy that they never partake of pleasure except in
scenes of diversion. It is unquestionably true, that no community enjoys
life more than that which excludes all these amusements from its sources
of enjoyment. We use therefore the language, not of speculation but
of experience, when we say, that none of them is in anv degree neces
sary to the happiness of
CHAPTER XV.
DUELLING.
IT is not to much purpose to show that this strange practice is in itself
wrong, because no one denies it. Other grounds of defence are taken,
although to be sure there is a plain absurdity in conceding that a thing is
wrong in morals, and then trying to show that it is proper to practise it.
Public notions exempt a clergyman from the " necessity" of fighting
duels, and they exempt other men from the »' necessity" of demanding
satisfaction for a clergyman's insult. Now we ask the man of honour
whether he would rather receive an insult from a military officer or from
a clergyman. Which would give him the greater pain, and cause him
the more concern and uneasiness ? That from the military officer, cer
tainly. But why ? Because the officer's affront leads to a duel, and the
clergyman's does not. So, then, it is preferable to receive an insult to
which the " necessity" of fighting is not attached, than one to which it is
attached. Why then attach the necessity to any man's affront ? You
say that demanding satisfaction is a remedy for the evil of an insult. But
218 DUELLING. [ESSAY II.
we see that the evil, together with the remedy, is worse than the evil
alone. Why then institute the remedy at all ? — It is not indeed to be
questioned that some insults maybe forborne because it is known to what
consequences they lead. But on the other hand, for what purpose does
one man insult another ? To give him pain : now we have just seen
that the pain is so much the greater in consequence of the " necessity"
of fighting, and therefore the motives to insult another are increased. A
man who wishes to inflict pain upon another, can inflict it more intensely
in consequence of the system of duelling.
The truth is, that men fancy the system is useful because they do not
perceive how public opinion has been violently turned out of its natural
and its usual course. When a military man is guilty of an insult, public
disapprobation falls but lightly upon him. It reserves its force to direct
against the insulted party if he does not demand satisfaction. But when
a clergyman is guilty of an insult, public disapprobation falls upon him
with undivided force. The insulted party receives no censure. Now
if you take away the custom of demanding satisfaction, what will be the
result ? WThy, that public opinion will revert to its natural course ; it
will direct all its penalties to the offending party, and by consequence
restrain him from offending. It will act towards all men as it now acts
towards the clergy ; and if a clergyman were frequently to be guilty of
insults, his character would be destroyed. The reader will perhaps
more distinctly perceive that the fancied utility of duelling in preventing
insults results from this misdirection of public opinion, by this brief
argument :
An individual either fears public opinion or he does not.
If he does not fear it, the custom of duelling cannot prevent him from
insulting whomsoever he pleases ; because public opinion is the only
thing which makes men fight, and he does not regard it.
If he does fear public opinion, then the most effectual way of restrain
ing him from insulting others, is by directing that opinion against the
act of insulting, — just as it is now directed in the case of the clergy.*
Thus it is that we find — what he knows the perfection of Christian
morality would expect — that duelling, as it is immoral, so it is absurd.
It appears to be forgotten that a duel is not more allowable to secure
ourselves from censure or neglect, than any other violation of the moral
law. If these motives constitute a justification of a duel, they consti
tute a justification of robbery or poisoning. To advocate duelling is
not to defend one species of offence, but to assert the general right to
violate the laws of God. If, as Dr. Johnson reasoned, the " notions
which prevail" make fighting right, they can make any thing right.
Nothing is wanted but to alter the " notions which prevail," and there is
not a crime mentioned in the statute book that will not be lawful and
honourable to-morrow.
It is usual with those who do foolish and vicious things, or who do
things from foolish or vicious motives, to invent some fiction by which
to veil the evil or folly, and to give, it if possible, a creditable appearance.
This has been done in the case of duelling. We hear a great deal about
honour, and spirit, and courage, and other qualities equally pleasant,
and as it respects the duellist, equally fictitious. The want of suffi
cient honour, and spirit, and courage, is precisely the very reason whv
* See West. Rev. No. 7, Art. 2.
CHAP. 15.] DUELLING. 219
men fight. Pitt fought with Tierney ; upon which Pitt's biographer writes
« A mind like his, cast in no common mould, should have risen supe
rior to a low and unworthy prejudice, the folly of which it must have per
ceived, and the wickedness of which it must have acknowledged. Could
Mr. Pitt be led away by that false shame which subjects the decisions
of reason to the control of fear, and renders the admonitions of con
science subservient to the powers of ridicule ?"* Low prejudice, folly,
wickedness, false shame, and fear, are the motives which the compla
cent duellist dignifies with the titles of honour, spirit, courage. This, to
be sure, is very politic : he would not be so silly as to call his motives
by their right names. Others, of course, join in the chicanery. They re
flect that they themselves may one day have a " meeting," arid they wish
to keep up the credit of a system which they are conscious they have
not principle enough to reject.
Put Christianity out of the question, — Would not even the philosophy
of paganism have despised that littleness of principle which would not
bear a man up in adhering to conduct which he knew to be right, — that
littleness of principle which sacrifices the dictates of understanding to
an unworthy fear I — When a good man, rather than conform to some
vicious institution of the papacy, stood firm against the frowns and per
secutions of the world, against obloquy and infamy, we say that his men
tal principles were great as well as good. If they were, the principles
of the duellist are mean as well as vicious. He is afraid to be good and
great. He knows the course which dignity and virtue prescribe, but he
will not rise above those lower motives which prompt him to deviate from
that course. It does not affect these conclusions to concede that he who
is afraid to refuse a challenge may generally be a man cf elevated ir.md,
He may be such ; but his refusal is an exception to his general charac
ter. It is an instance in which he impeaches his consistency in excel
lence. If it were consistent, if the whole mind had attained to the right
ful stature of a Christian man, he would assuredly contemn in his practice
the conduct which he disapproved in his heart. If you would show us
a man of courage, bring forward him who will say, I will not fight. Sup
pose a gentleman who, upon the principles which GifTord says should
have actuated Pitt and all great minds, had thus refused to fight, and sup
pose him saying to his withdrawing friends — " I have acted with per
fect deliberation : I know all the consequences of the course I have pur
sued : but I was persuaded that I should act most like a man of intellect
as well as like a Christian by declining the meeting ; and therefore I
declined it. I feel and deplore the consequences, though I do not depre
cate them. I am not fearful, as I have not been fearful ; for I appeal to
yourselves whether I have not encountered the more appalling alterna
tive, — whether it does not require a greater effort to do what I have
done, and what I am at this moment doing, than to have met my oppo
nent." — Such a man's magnanimity might not procure for him the com
panionship of his acquaintance, but it would do much more ; it would
obtain the suffrages of their judgments and their hearts. While they
continued perhaps externally to neglect him, they would internally
honour and admire. They would feel that his excellence was of an order
to which they could make no pretensions ; and they would feel, as they
* Gifford's Life, vol. i, p. 268.
220 DUELLING. [ESSAY II
were practising this strange hypocrisy of vice, that they were the pro
per objects of contempt and pity.
The species of slavery to which a man is sometimes reduced by
being, as he calls it, " obliged to fight," is really pitiable. A British offi
cer writes of a petulant and profligate class of men, one of whom is
sometimes found in a regiment, and says, " Sensible that an officer must
accept a challenge, he does not hesitate to deal them in abundance, and
shortly acquires the name of a fighting man ; but as every one is not
willing to throw away his life when called upon by one who is indiffer
ent to his own, many become condescending, which this man immediately
construes into fear ; and presuming upon this, he acts as if he imagined
no one dare contradict him, but all must yield obedience to his will." Here
the servile bondage of which we speak is brought prominently out.
Here is the crouching and unmanly fear. Here is the abject submission
of sense and reason to the grossest vulgarity of insolence, folly, and
guilt. The officer presently gives an account of an instance in which
the whole mess were domineered over by one of these fighting men ;-—
and a pitiably ludicrous account it is. The man had invited them to dinner
at some distance. " On the day appointed, there came on a most vio
lent snow storm, and in the morning we despatched a servant with an
apology." But alas ! these poor men could not use their own judgments
as to whether they should ride in a " most violent snow storm" or not.
The man sent back some rude message that he " expected them." They
were afraid of what the fighting man would do next morning, and so
the whole mess, against their wills, actually rode " near four miles in a
heavy snow storm, and passed a day," says the officer, " that was with
out exception the most unpleasant I ever passed in my life !"* In the
instance of these men, the motives to duelling as founded upon fear,
operated so powerfully that the officers were absolutely enslaved, —
driven against their wills by fear, as negroes are by a cart-whip.
We are shocked and disgusted at the immolation of women among
the Hindoos, and think that if such a sacrifice were attempted in Eng
land, it would excite feelings of the utmost repulsion and abhorrence.
Of the custom of immolation, duelling is the sister. Their parents are
the same, and like other sisters, their lineaments are similar. Why does
a Hindoo mount the funeral pile ? To vindicate and maintain her hon
our. Why does an Englishman go to the heath with his pistols ? To
vindicate and maintain his honour. What is the nature and character
of the Hindoo's honour? Quite factitious. Of the duellist's? Quite
factitious. How is the motive applied to the Hindoo ? To her fears of
reproach. To the duellist ? To his fears of reproach. What then is
the difference between the two customs ? This, — That one is practised
in the midst of pagan darkness and the other in the midst of Christian
light. And yet these very men give their guineas to the Missionary
Society, lament the degradation of the Hindoos, and expatiate upon
the sacred duty of enlightening them with Christianity! "Physician!
heal thyself."
One consideration connected with duelling is of unusual interest. "In
the judgment of that religion which requires purity of heart, and of that
Being to whom thought is action, he cannot be esteemed innocent of this
crime, who lives in a settled, habitual determination to commit it, when
* Lieut. Aubury : Travels in North America
CHAP. 16.] SUICIDE. 221
circumstances shall call upon him so to do. This is a consideration
which places the crime of duelling on a different footing from almost
any other ; indeed there is perhaps NO other, which mankind habitually
and deliberately resolve to practise whenever the temptation shall occur.
It shows also that the crime of duelling is far more general in the higher
classes than is commonly supposed, and the whole sum of the guilt
which the practice produces, is beyond what has perhaps been ever con
ceived."*
"It is the intention," says Seneca," and not the effect, which makes the
wickedness :" and that Greater than Seneca who laid the axe to the root
of our vices, who laid upon the mental disposition* that guilt which had
been laid upon the act, may be expected to regard this habitual willing
ness and intention to violate his laws, as an actual and great offence.
The felon who plans and resolves to break into a house, is not the less
a felon because a watchman happens to prevent him ; nor is the offence
of him who happens never to be challenged, necessarily at all less than
that of him who takes the life of his friend.
CHAPTER XVI.
SUICIDE.
THERE are few subjects upon which it is more difficult either to write or
to legislate with effect, than that of Suicide. It is difficult to a writer,
because a man does not resolve upon the act until he has first become
steeled to some of the most powerful motives than can be urged upon the
human mind ; and to the legislator, because he can inflict no penalty
upon the offending party.
It is to be feared that there is little probability of diminishing the fre
quency of this miserable offence by urging the considerations which
philosophy suggests. The voice of nature is louder and stronger than the
voice of philosophy ; and as nature speaks to the suicide in vain, what is
the hope that philosophy will be regarded ?— There appears to be but
one efficient means by which the mind can be armed against the temp
tations to suicide, because there is but one that can support it against
every evil of life, — practical religion, — belief in the providence of God, —
confidence in his wisdom, — hope in his goodness. The only anchor that
can hold us in safety, is that which is fixed " within the vail." He upon
whom religion possesses its proper influence, finds that it enables him
to endure, with resigned patience, every calamity of life. When pa
tience thus fulfils its perfect work, suicide, which is the result of im
patience, cannot be committed. He who is surrounded, by whatever
means, with pain or misery, should remember that the present existence
is strictly probationary, — a scene upon which we are to be exercised,
and tried, and tempted ; and in which we are to manifest whether we are
willing firmly to endure. The good or evil of the present life is of import
ance chiefly as it influences our allotment in futurity : sufferings are per-
* Wilberforce : Practical View, c. 4. s. 3.
222 UNMANLINESS OF SUICIDE. [ESSAY II.
mitted for our advantage : they are designed to purify and rectify the
heart. The universal Father *' scourgeth every son whom he receiveth ;"
and the suffering, the scourging, is of little account in comparison with
the prospects of another world. It is not worthy to be compared with
the glory which shall follow, — that glory of which an exceeding and
eternal weight is the reward of a "patient continuance in well-doing."
— To him who thus regards misery, not as an evil but as a good ; not as
the unrestrained assault of chance or malice, but as the beneficent disci
pline of a Father ; to him who remembers that the time is approaching
in which he will be able most feelingly to say, " For all I bless Thee, —
most for the severe" — every affliction is accompanied with its proper
alleviation : the present hour may distress but it does not overwhelm
him ; he may be perplexed, but is not in despair : he sees the darkness
and feels the storm ; but he knows that light will again arise, and that the
storm will eventually be hushed with an efficacious, Peace, be still ; —
so that there shall be a great calm.
Compared with these motives to avoid the first promptings to suicide,
others are likely to be of little effect ; and yet they are neither incon
siderable nor few. It is more dignified, more worthy an enlightened
and manly understanding, to meet and endure an inevitable evil than to
sink beneath it. The case of him who feels prompted to suicide is
something like that of the duellist as it was illustrated in the preceding
chapter. Each sacrifices his life to his fears. The suicide balances
between opposing objects of dread (for dreadful self-destruction must be
supposed to be), and chooses the alternative which he fears least. If
his courage, his firmness, his manliness, were greater, he who chooses
the alternative of suicide, like him who chooses the duel, would endure
the evil rather than avoid it in a manner which dignity and religion for
bid. The lesson too which the self-destroyer teaches to his connex
ions, of sinking in despair under the evils of life, is one of the most per
nicious which a man can bequeath. The power of the example is also
great. Every act of suicide tacitly conveys the sanction of one more
judgment in its favour: frequency of repetition diminishes the sensation
of abhorrence, and makes succeeding sufferers resort to it with less
reluctance. " Besides which general reasons, each case will be aggra
vated by its own proper and particular consequences ; by the duties that
are deserted ; by the claims that are defrauded ; by the loss, affliction,
or disgrace which our death, or the manner of it, causes our family, kin
dred, or friends ; by the occasion we give to many to suspect the sincer
ity of our moral and religious professions, and, together with ours, those
of all others ;"* and lastly, by the scandal which we bring upon religion
itself, by declaring, practically, that it is not able to support man under
the calamities of life.
Some men say that the New Testament contains no prohibition of sui
cide. If this were true, it would avail nothing, because there are many
things which it does not forbid, but which every one knows to be wicked.
But in reality it does forbid it. Every exhortation which it gives to be
patient, every encouragement to trust in God, every consideration which
it urges as a support under affliction and distress, is a virtual prohibition
of suicide ; because, if a man commits suicide, he rejects every such
advice and encouragement, and disregards every such motive.
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 4, c. 3.
CHAP. 16.] LEGISLATION RESPECTING SUICIDE. 223
To him who believes either in revealed or natural religion there is a
certain folly in the commission of suicide ; for from what does he fly ?
From his present sufferings ; while death, for aught that he has reason
to expect, or at any rate for aught that he knows, may only be the portal
to sufferings more intense. Natural religion, I think, gives no countenance
to the supposition that suicide can be approved by the Deity, because it
proceeds upon the belief that in another state of existence, he will com
pensate good men for the sufferings of the present. At the best, and
under either religion, it is a desperate stake. He that commits murder
may repent, and, we hope, be forgiven ; but he that destroys himself,
while he incurs a load of guilt, cuts off, by the act, the power of repent
ance.
Not every act of suicide is to be attributed to excess of misery. Some
shoot themselves or throw themselves into a river in rage or revenge, in
order to inflict pain and remorse upon those who have ill used them. Such,
it is to be suspected, is sometimes a motive to self-destruction in disap
pointed love. The unhappy person leaves behind some message or letter,
in the hope of exciting that affection and commiseration by the catastrophe
which he could not excite when alive. Perhaps such persons hope, too,
that the world will sigh over their early fate, tell of the fidelity of their
loves, and throw a romantic melancholy over their story. This needs not
to be a subject of wonder : unnumbered multitudes have embraced death in
other forms from kindred motives. We hear continually of the fidelity of
those who die for the sake of glory. This is but another phantom, and the
less amiable phantom of the two. It is just as reasonable to die in order
that the world may admire our true love as in order that it may admire
our bravery. And the lover's hope is the better founded. There are too
many aspirants for glory for each to get even his *' peppercorn of praise."
But the lover may hope for higher honours ; a paragraph may record his
fate through the existence of a weekly paper ; he may be talked of
through half a county ; and some kindred spirit may inscribe a tributary
sonnet in a lady's album.
To legislate efficiently upon the crime of suicide is difficult, if it is not
impossible. As the legislator cannot inflict a penalty upon the offender,
the act must pass with impunity unless the penalty is made to fall upon
the innocent. I say the penalty ; for such it would actually be, whatever
were the provision of the law, — whether, for instance, confiscation of
property or indignity to the remains of the dead. One would make a
family poor, and the other perhaps unhappy. It does not appear just or
reasonable that these should suffer for an offence which they could not
prevent, and by which they, above all others, are already injured and
distressed.
One thing appears to be clear, that it is vain for a legislature to
attempt any interference of which the people do not approve. This is
evident from the experience in our own country, where coroners' juries
prefer perjuring themselves to pronouncing a verdict of felo de se, by
which the remains would be subjected to barbarous indignities. Cor
oners' inquests seem to proceed rather upon the pre-supposition that he
who destroys himself is insane, than upon the evidence which is brought
224 LEGISLATION RESPECTING SUICIDE. [ESSAY II.
before them ; and thus, while the law is evaded, perjury, it is to be feared,
is very frequent. That the public mind disapproves the existing law is
a good reason for altering it, but it is not a good reason why coroners'
juries should violate their oaths, and give encouragement to the suicide
by telling him that disgrace will be warded off from his memory and
from his family by a generous verdict of insanity. It has been said that
it is a common thing for a suicide's friends to fee the coroner in order to
induce him to prevent a verdict of felo de se. If this be true, it is
indeed time that the arm of the law should be vigorously extended. What
punishment is due to the man who accepts a purse as a reward for indu
cing twelve persons to commit perjury ? It is probable, too, that half a
dozen just verdicts, by which the law was allowed to take its course,
would occasion the abolition of the disgusting statute ;* for the public
would not bear that it should be acted upon.
The great object is to associate with the act of suicide ideas of guilt
and horror in the public mind. This association would be likely to pre
clude, in individuals, that first complacent contemplation of the act which
probably precedes,- by a long interval, the act itself. The anxiety which
the surviving friends manifest for a verdict of " insanity" is a proof how
great is the power of imagination, and how much they are in dread of
public opinion. They are anxious that the disgrace and reproach of
conscious self-rnurder should not cling to their family. This is precisely
that anxiety of which the legislator should avail himself, by enactments
that would require satisfactory proof of insanity, and which, in default of
such proof, would leave to its full force the stigma and the pain, and
excite a sense of horror of the act and a perception of its wickedness in
the public mind. The point for the exercise of legislative wisdom is, to
devise such an ultimate procedure as shall call forth] these feelings, but
as shall not become nugatory by being more dreadful than the public will
endure. What that procedure should be I pretend not to describe ; but
it maybe observed that the simple circumstance of pronouncing a public
verdict of conscious self-murder, would, among a people of good feelings,
go far towards the production of the desired effect. — As the law now
exists, and as it is now violated, the tendency is exactly the contrary of
what it ought to be. By the almost universal custom which it generates
of declaring suicides to have been insane, it effectually diminishes that
pain to individuals, and that horror in the public, which the crime itself
would naturally occasion.
* This statute has been repealed ; and the law now simply requires, when a verdict of felo
de se is returned, that the body shall be interred privately, at night, and withou *» funeral
service.— ED.
17.] RIGHTS OF SELF-DEFENCE. 225
CHAPTER XVII.
RIGHTS OF SELF-DEFENCE.
THE right of defending ourselves against violence is easily deducible
from the law of nature. There is however little need to deduce it,
because mankind are at least sufficiently persuaded of its lawfulness. —
The great question which the opinions and principles that now influ
ence the world make it needful to discuss is, Whether the right of self-
defence is absolute and unconditional, — Whether every action whatever
is lawful, provided it is necessary to the preservation of life ? They
who maintain the affirmative maintain a great deal ; for they maintain
that whenever life is endangered, all rules of morality are, as it respects
the individual, suspended, annihilated : every moral obligation is taken
away by the single fact that life is threatened.
Yet the language that is ordinarily held upon the subject implies the
supposition of all this. " If our lives are threatened with assassination
or open violence from the hands of robbers or enemies, any means of
defence would be allowed and laudable."* Again : " There is one case
in which all extremities are justifiable, namely, when our life is assaulted
and it becomes necessary for our preservation to kill the assailant."!
The reader may the more willingly inquire whether these proposi
tions are true, because most of those who lay them down are at little
pains to prove their truth. Men are extremely willing to acquiesce in it
without proof, and writers and speakers think it unnecessary to adduce
it. Thus perhaps it happens that fallacy is not detected because it is
not sought. — If the reader should think that some of the instances which
follow are remote from the ordinary affairs of life, he is requested to
remember that we are discussing the soundness of an alleged absolute
rule. If it be found that there are or have been cases in which it is
not absolute, — cases in which all extremities are not lawful in defence
of life, — then the rule is not sound : then there are some limits to the
right of self-defence.
If " any means of defence are laudable," if *' all extremities are justi
fiable," then they are not confined to acts of resistance to the assailing
party. There may be other conditions upon which life may be preserved
than that of violence towards him. Some ruffians seize a man in the
highway, and will kill him unless he will conduct them to his neighbour's
property and assist them in carrying it off'. May this man unite with
them in the robbery in order to save his life, or may he not? If he may
what becomes of the law, Thou shalt not steal ? If he may not, then
not every means by which a man may preserve his life is " laudable" or
41 allowed." We have found an exception to the rule. There are twenty
other wicked things which violent men may make the sole condition of
not taking our lives. Do all wicked things become lawful because life
is at stake ? If they do, morality surely is at an end : if they do not,
such propositions as those of Grotius and Paley are untrue.
A pagan has unalterably resolved to offer me up in sacrifice on the
* Grotius : Rights of War and Peace. f Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3, b. 4, c. 1.
10 P
226 LIMITS TO THE RIGHTS OF SELF-DEFENCE. [ESSAY II.
morrow, unless I will acknowledge the Deity of his gods and worship
them. I shall presume that the Christian will regard these acts as being,
under every possible circumstance, unlawful. The night offers me an
opportunity of. assassinating him. Now I am placed, so far as the argu
ment is concerned, in precisely the same situation with respect to this
man as a traveller is with respect to a ruffian with a pistol. Life in
both cases depends on killing the offender. Both are acts of self-defence.
Am I at liberty to assassinate this man T The heart of the Christian
surely answers, No. Here then is a case in which I may not take a
violent man's life in order to save my own. — We have said that the
heart of the Christian answers, No : and this we think is a just species
of appeal. But if any one doubts whether the assassination would be
unlawful, let him consider whether one of the Christian apostles would
have committed it in such a case. Here, at any rate, the heart of every
man answers, No. And mark the reason, — because every man perceives
that the act would have been palpably inconsistent with the apostolic
character and conduct ; or, which is the same thing, with a Christian
character and conduct.
Or put such a case in a somewhat different form. A furious Turk
holds a scimitar over my head, and declares he will instantly despatch
me unless I abjure Christianity and acknowledge the divine legation of
" the Prophet." Now there are two supposable ways in which I may
save my life ; one by contriving to stab the Turk, and one " by denying
Christ before men." You say I am not at liberty to deny Christ, but I
am at liberty to stab the man. Why am I not at liberty to deny Him ?
Because Christianity forbids it. Then we require you to show that
Christianity does not forbid you to take his life. Our religion pronounces
both actions to be wrong. You say that under these circumstances the
killing is right. Where is your proof? AVhat is the ground of your
distinction ? But, whether it can be adduced or not, our immediate argu
ment is established. — That there are some things which it is not lawful
to do in order to preserve our lives. This conclusion has indeed been
practically acted upon. A company of inquisitors and their agents are
about to conduct a good man to the stake. If he could by any means
destroy these men, he might save his life. — It is a question therefore of
self-defence. Supposing these means to be within his power, — sup
posing he could contrive a mine, and by suddenly firing it, blow his per
secutors into the air, — would it be lawful and Christian thus to act ? No.
The common judgments of mankind respecting the right temper and con
duct of the martyr pronounce it to be wrong. It is pronounced to be
wrong by the language and example of the first teachers of Christianity.
The conclusion therefore again is, that all extremities are not allowable
in order /to preserve life ; — that there is a limit to the right of self-
defence.
It would be to no purpose to say that in some of the instances which
have been proposed, religious duties interfere with and limit the rights of
self-defence. This is a common fallacy; religious duties and moral duties
are identical in point of obligation, for they are imposed by one authority.
Religious duties are not obligatory for any other reason than that which
attaches to moral duties also ; namely, the will of God. He who vio
lates the moral law is as truly unfaithful in his allegiance to God as he
who denies Christ before men.
So that we come at last to one single and simple question, whether
taking the life of a person who threatens ours is or is not compatible
CHAP. 17.] PERSONAL ATTACK. 227
with the moral law. We refer for an answer to the broad principles of
Christian piety and Christian benevolence ; that piety which reposes
habitual confidence in the Divine Providence and an habitual preference
of futurity to the present time ; and that benevolence which not only loves
our neighbours as ourselves, but feels that the Samaritan or the enemy is
a neighbour. There is no conjuncture in life in which the exercise of
this benevolence may be suspended ; none in which we are not required
to maintain and to practise it. Whether want implores our compassion,
or ingratitude returns ills for our kindness ; whether a fellow-creature is
drowning in a river or assailing us on the highway ; everywhere, and
under all circumstances, the duty remains.
Is killing an assailant, then, within or without the limits of this benevo
lence ? — As to the man, it is evident that no good-will is exercised towards
him by shooting him through the head. Who indeed will dispute that,
before we can destroy him, benevolence towards him must be excluded
from our minds ? We not only exercise no benevolence ourselves,
but preclude him from receiving it from any human heart : and, which
is a serious item in the account, we cut him off from all possibility of
reformation. To call sinners to repentance was one of the great char
acteristics of the mission of Christ. Does it appear consistent with this
characteristic for one of his followers to take away from a sinner the
power of repentance ? Is it an act that accords, and is congruous, with
Christian love ?
But an argument lias been attempted here. That we may "kill the
assailant is evident in a state of nature, unless it can be shown that we
are bound to prefer the aggressor's life to our own ; that is to say, to love
our enemy better than ourselves, which can never be a debt of justice nor
anywhere appears to be a duty of charity."* The answer is this : That
although we may not be required to love our enemy better than ourselves,
we are required to love him as ourselves ; and therefore, in the supposed
case, it would still be a question equally balanced which life ought to be
sacrificed ; for it is quite clear that if we kill the assailant, we love him
less than ourselves, which does seem to militate against a duty of charity.
But the truth is, that he who, from motives of obedience to the will of
God, spares the aggressor's life even to the endangering his own, does
exercise love both to the aggressor and to himself, perfectly : to the
aggressor, because by sparing his life we give him the opportunity of
repentance and amendment : to himself, because every act of obedience to
God is perfect benevolence towards ourselves ; it is consulting and pro
moting our most valuable interests ; it is propitiating the favour of Him
who is emphatically " a rich rewarder." — So that the question remains as
before, not whether we should love our enemy better than ourselves, but
whether Christian principles are acted upon in destroying him ; and if
they are not, whether we should prefer Christianity to ourselves ; whether
we should be willing to lose our life for Christ's sake and the gospel's.
I erhaps it will be said that we should exercise benevolence to the
mbhc as well as to the offender, and that we may exercise more benevo-
nce to them by killing than by sparing him. But very few persons,
when they kill a man who -attacks them, kill him out of benevolence to
the public. That is not the motive which influences their conduct or
which they at all take into the account. Besides, it is by no means cer-
am that the public would lose any thing by the forbearance. 'To be
* Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3. b. 4, c. 1
P2
223 PRESERVATION OF PROPERTY. [ESSAY II.
sure, a man can do no more mischief after he is killed ; but then it is to
be remembered, that robbers are more desperate and more murderous
from the apprehension of swords and pistols than they would be without
it. Men are desperate in proportion to their apprehensions of danger.
The plunderer who feels a confidence that his own life will not be taken
may conduct his plunder with comparative gentleness ; while he who
knows that his life is in immediate jeopardy stuns or murders his victim
lest he should be killed himself. The great evil which a family sustains
by a robbery is often not the loss, but the terror and the danger ; and these
are the evils which, by the exercise of forbearance, would be diminished.
So that if some bad men are prevented from committing robberies by the
fear of death, the public gains in other ways by the forbearance : nor is
it by any means certain that the balance of advantages is in favour of
the more violent course. — The argument which we are opposing proceeds
on the supposition that our own lives are endangered. Now it is a fact
that this very danger results, in part, from the want of habits of forbear
ance. We publicly profess% that we would kill an assailant; and the
assailant, knowing this, prepares to kill us when otherwise he would
forbear.
And, after all, if it were granted that a person is at liberty to take an
assailant's life, in order to preserve his own, how is he to know, in the
majority of instances, whether his own would be taken ? When a man
breaks into a person's house, and this person, as soon as he comes up
with the robber, takes out a pistol and shoots him, we are not to be told
that this man was killed " in defence of life." Or, go a step further,
and a step further still, by which the intention of the robber to commit
personal violence or inflict death is more and more probable : you must
at last shoot him in uncertainty whether your life was endangered or not.
Besides, you can withdraw, — you can fly. None but the predetermined
murderer wishes to commit murder. But, perhaps, you exclaim, "Fly!
Fly, and leave your property unprotected!" Yes, — unless you mean to
say that preservation of property, as well as preservation of life, makes
it lawful to kill an offender. This were to adopt a new and a very
different proposition ; but a proposition which I suspect cannot be sepa
rated in practice from the former. He who affirms that he may kill
another in order to preserve his life, and that he may endanger his life
in order to protect his property, does, in reality, affirm that he may kill
another in order to preserve his property. But such a proposition, in an
unconditional form, no one surely will tolerate. The laws of the land
do not admit it, nor do they even admit the right of taking another's life
simply because he is attempting to take ours. They require that we
should be tender even of the murderer's life, and that we should fly rather
than destroy it.*
We say that the proposition that we may take life in order to preserve
our property is intolerable. To preserve how much? five hundred
pounds, or fifty, or ten, or a shilling, or a sixpence? It has actually
been declared that the rights of self-defence "justify a man in taking all
forcible methods which are necessary in order to procure the restitution
of the freedom or the property of which he had been unjustly deprived."!
All forcible methods to obtain restitution of property ! No limit to the
nature or effects of the force ! No limit to the insignificance of the
* Blackstone : Com. v. 4, c. 4. f Gisbome : Moral Philosophy.
CHAP. 17.] EFFECTS OF FORBEARANCE. 229
amount of the property ! Apply, then, the rule. A boy snatches a bunch
of grapes from a fruiterer's stall. The fruiterer runs after the thief, but
finds that he is too light of foot to be overtaken. Moreover the boy eats as
he runs. "All forcible methods," reasons the fruiterer, " are justifiable
to obtain restitution of property. I may fire after the plunderer, and
when he falls, regain my grapes." All this is just and right if Gisborne's
proposition is true. It is a dangerous thing to lay down maxims in
morality.
The conclusion then to which we are led by these inquiries is, that he
who kills another, even upon the plea of self-defence, does not do it in
the predominance nor in the exercise of Christian dispositions ; and if
this is true, is it not also true that his life cannot be thus taken in con
formity with the Christian law ?
But this is very far from concluding that no resistance may be made
to aggression. We may make, and we ought to make, a great deal. It
is the duty of the civil magistrate to repress the violence of one man
towards another, and by consequence it is the duty of the individual,
when the civil power cannot operate, to endeavour to repress it himself.
I perceive no reasonable exception to the rule, — that whatever Christian
ity permits the magistrate to do in order to restrain violence, it permits
the individual, under such circumstances, to do also. I know the con
sequences to which this rule leads in the case of the punishment of death,
and of other questions. These questions will hereafter be discussed.
In the mean time it may be an act of candour to the reader to acknow
ledge, that our chief motive for the discussions of the present chapter
has been to pioneer the way for a satisfactory investigation of the punish
ment of death, and of other modes by which human life is taken away.
Many kinds of resistance to aggression come strictly within the fulfil
ment of the law of benevolence. He who by securing or temporarily
disabling a man prevents him from committing an act of great turpitude,
is certainly his benefactor ; and if he be thus reserved for justice, the
benevolence is great both to him and to the public. It is an act of much
kindness to a bad man to secure him for the penalties of the law : or it
would be such if penal law were in the state in which it ought to be, and
to which it appears to be making some approaches. It would then be
rery probable that the man would be reformed ; and this is the greatest
Benefit which can be conferred upon him and upon the community.
The exercise of Christian forbearance towards violent men is not
'tantamount to an invitafton of outrage. Cowardice is one thing ; this
forbearance is another. The man of true forbearance is of all men the
least cowardly. It requires courage in a greater degree and of a higher
order to practise it when life is threatened, than to draw a sword or fire
a pistol. — No : It is the peculiar privilege of Christian virtue to approve
itself even to the bad. There is something in the nature of that calm
ness, and self-possession, and forbearance, that religion effects, which
obtains, nay which almost commands, regard and respect. How different
the effect upon the violent tenants of Ne\vgate — the hardihood of a turn
key and the mild courage of an Elizabeth Fry ! Experience, incontest
able experience, has proved that the minds of few men are so depraved
or desperate as to prevent them from being influenced by real Christian
conduct. Let him therefore who advocates the taking the life of an
aggressor first show that all other means of safety are vain ; let him
show that bad men, notwithstanding the exercise of true Christian for-
230 SHARPE-BARCLAY— FELL— ELLWOOD. [ESSAY II.
bearance, persist in their purposes of death : — when he has done this he
will have adduced an argument in favour of taking their lives which will
not, indeed, be conclusive, but which will approach nearer to conclusive-
ness than any that has yet been adduced.
Of the consequences of forbearance, even in the case of personal attack,
there are some examples. Archbishop Sharpe was assaulted by a foot
pad on the highway, who presented a pistol and demanded his money.
The archbishop spoke to the robber in the language of a fellow-man and
of a Christian. The man was really in distress, and the prelate gave
him such money as he had, and promised that if he would call at the
palace, he would make up the amount to fifty pounds. This was the sum
of which the robber had said he stood in the utmost need. The man
called and received the money. About a year and a half afterward, this
man again came to the palace and brought back the same sum. He said
that his circumstances had become improved, and that, through the
" astonishing goodness" of the archbishop, he had become " the most
penitent, the most grateful, and the happiest of his species." — Let the
reader consider how different the archbishop's feelings were, from what
they would have been if, by his hand, this man had been cut off.*
Barclay, the apologist, was attacked by a highwayman. He substi
tuted for the ordinary modes of resistance a calm expostulation. The
felon dropped his presented pistol, and offered no further violence. A
Leonard Fell was similarly attacked, and from him the robber took both
his money and his horse, and then threatened to blow out his brains. Fell
solemnly spoke to the man on the wickedness of his life. The robber
was astonished : he had expected, perhaps, curses, or perhaps a dagger.
He declared he would not keep either the horse or the money, and
returned both. " If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; for in so doing thou
shalt heap coals of fire upon his head."| — The tenor of the short narrative
that follows is somewhat different. Ellwood, who is known to the literary
world as the suggester to Milton of Paradise Regained, was attending
his father in his coach. Two men waylaid them in the dark and stopped
the carriage. Young Ellwood got out, and on going up to the nearest,
the ruffian raised a heavy club, " when," says Ellwood, " I whipped out
my rapier and made a pass upon him. I could not have failed running
him through up to the hilt," but the sudden appearance of the bright
blade terrified the man so that he stepped aside, avoided the thrust, and
both he and the other fled. " At that time," proceeds Ellwood, " and
for a good while after, I had no regret upon%iy mind for what I had
done." This was while he was young, and when the forbearing prin
ciples of Christianity had little influence upon him. But afterward,
when this influence became powerful, " a sort of horror," he says,
" seized on me when I considered how near I had been to the staining
of my hands with human blood. And whensoever afterward I went that
way, and indeed as often since as the matter has come into my remem
brance, my soul has blessed Him who preserved and withheld me from
shedding man's blood. "J
That those over whom, as over Ellwood, the influence of Christianity
is imperfect and weak, should think themselves at liberty upon such
occasions to take the lives of their fellow-men, needs to be no subject of
* See Lond. Chron. Aug. 12, 1785. See also Life of Granville Sharpe, Esq. p. 13.
t Select Anecdotes, &c. by John Barclay. j Ellwood's Life.
CHAP. 17.] EFFECTS OF FORBEARANCE. 231
wonder. Christianity, if we would rightly estimate its obligations, must
be felt in the heart. They in whose hearts it is not felt, or felt but
little, cannot be expected perfectly to know what its obligations are. I
know riot therefore that more appropriate advice can be given to him who
contends for the lawfulness of taking another man's life in order to save
his own, than that he would first inquire whether the influence of religion
is dominant in his mind. If it is not, let him suspend his decision until
he has attained to the fulness of the stature of a Christian man. Then,
as he will be of that number who do the will of Heaven, he may hope to
" know, of this doctrine, whether it be of God."
END OF THE SECOND ESSAY.
ESSAY III.
POLITICAL RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS.
CHAPTER I.
PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL TRUTH, AND OF POLITICAL RECTITUDE.
THE fundamental principles which are deducible from the law of
nature and from Christianity, respecting political affairs, appear to be
these :
1. Political Power is rightly possessed only when it is possessed by
consent of the community : —
2. It is rightly exercised only when it subserves the welfare of the
community ; —
3. And only when it subserves this purpose by means which the moral
law permits.
I.
** POLITICAL POWER IS RIGHTLY POSSESSED ONLY WHEN IT IS POSSESSED
BY CONSENT OF THE COMMUNITY."
Perfect liberty is desirable if it were consistent with the greatest de
gree of happiness. But it is not. Men find that by giving up a part of
their liberty, they are more happy than by retaining, or attempting to
retain, the whole. Government, whatever be its form, is the agent by which
the inexpedient portion of individual liberty is taken away. Men institute
government for their own advantage, and because they find they are more
happy with it than without it. This is the sole reason, in principle, how
little soever it be adverted to in practice. Governors therefore are the
officers of the public, in the proper sense of the word : not the slaves
of the public ; for if they do not incline to conform to the public will,
they are at liberty, like other officers, to give up their office. They are
servants in the same manner, and for the same purpose, as a solicitor is
the servant of his client, and the physician of his patient. These are em
ployed by the patient or the client voluntarily for his own advantage, and
for nothing else. A nation (not an individual, but a nation) is under no
other obligation to obedience than that which arises from the conviction
that obedience is good for itself : — or rather, in more proper language, a
nation is under no obligation to obedience at all. Obedience is volun
tary. If they do not think it proper to obey, — that is, if they are not
CHAP. 1.] GOVERNORS ARE OFFICERS OF THE PUBLIC. 233
satisfied with their officers, — they are at liberty to discontinue their obe
dience, and to appoint other officers instead.
That which is thus true as a universal proposition is asserted with
respect to this country by the present king : — " The powers and preroga
tives of the crown are vested there as a trust for the benefit of the peo
ple ; and they are sacred only as they are necessary to the preservation
of that poise and balance of the constitution which experience ha&
proved to be the best security of the liberty of the subject"*
It is incidental to the office of the first public servants, that they should
exercise authority over those by whom they are selected ; and hence,
probably, it has happened that the terms " public officer," " public ser
vant," have excited such strange controversies in the world. Men have
not maintained sufficient discrimination of ideas. Seeing that governors
are great and authoritative, a man imagines it cannot be proper to say
they are servants. Seeing that it is necessary and right that individuals
should obey, he cannot entertain the notion that they are the servants of
those whom they govern. The truth is, that governors are not the ser
vants of individuals but of the community. They are the masters of
individuals, the servants of the public ; and if this simple distinction
had been sufficiently borne in mind, much perhaps of the vehement con
tention upon these matters had been avoided.
But the idea of being a servant of the public is quite consistent with
the idea of exercising authority over them. The common language of
a patient is founded upon similar grounds. He sends for a physician :
— the physician comes at his desire, — is paid for his services, — and then
the patient says, I am ordered to adopt a regimen, I am ordered to Italy ;
and he obeys, not because he may not refuse to obey if he chooses,
but because he confides in the judgment of the physician, and thinks
that it is more to his benefit to be guided by the physician's judgment
than by his own. But it will be said, the physician cannot enforce his
orders upon the patient against his will: neither I answer can the governor
enforce his upon the public against theirs. No doubt governors do some
times so enforce them. What they do, however, and what they rightfully
do, are separate considerations, and our business is only with the latter.
Grotius argues that sovereign power may be possessed by governors,
so that it shall not rightfully belong to the community. He says, " From
the Jewish as well as the Roman law it appears, that any one might en
gage himself in private servitude to whom he pleased. Now if an indi
vidual may do so, why may not a whole people, for the benefit of better
government and more certain protection, completely transfer their sove
reign rights to one or more persons without reserving any portion to
themselves ?"f — I answer, No individual may do this : and, if he might,
it would not serve the doctrine in the case of nations. — It never can be
right for a man to resign the absolute direction of his conduct to another,
because he must then do actions good or bad as that other might command,
— he must lie, or rob, or assassinate ; and of this common sense would
pronounce the impropriety, if the moral law did not. And if you say a
man ought not so to resign himself to another, then I answer, he does
not transfer sovereign power but retains it himself, — which, in truth, ends
the argument.
* Letter when Prince of Wales, to Wm. Pitt. Gifford's Life of Pitt. vol. ii.
t Rights of War and Peace, b. 1, c. 3, e. 8.
234 THE PEOPLE HOLD [ESSAY III.
But if the doctrine were sound for the individual, it is unsound for a
community. What is meant by the " transfer of their sovereign rights
by a whole people .?" Is every man, woman, and child in the country for
mally to sign the transfer? If not, Low shall a whole people transfer it?
At any rate, if they did, their resignation could not bind their children or
successors. Besides, there is the same objection to this transfer of the
sovereign power on the part of a nation as on the part of an individual.
The thing is absurd in reason, and criminal in morals.
Grotius illustrates his argument by " that authority to which a woman
submits when she gives herself to her husband." But she does not sub
mit to sovereign authority. He says again, " some powers are conferred
for the sake of the governor, as the right of a master over a slave."
But such powers are never justly conferred.
After all, these arguments do but establish, in reality, the fundamental
position. They assume that a people can resign the sovereign power ;
which is the same thing as to acknowledge that they rightfully possess it.
Grotius himself says, " A state is a perfect body of freemen, united to
gether in order to enjoy common rights and advantages."*
It gives some anxiety to the mind of the writer, lest the reader should
identify his principles with those of many who have asserted the " sove
reignty of the people." This doctrine has been insisted upon by per
sons who have mingled with it, or deduced from it, principles which the
writer not merely rejects, but abhors. A doctrine is not unsound be
cause it has been advocated or perverted by bad men ; and it is neither
rational nor honest to reprobate a truth because it has been viciously
associated. Gifford, in his Life of Pitt, complains of Fox, who by " a
strange perversion of terms and a confusion of intellect that would have
disgraced even a schoolboy, called his sovereign the servant of the peo
ple. This," says Gifford, " was a servile imitation of the French
regicides, and a direct encouragement to all the theoretical reveries of
all the disaffected in England." This is the species of association which
I would deprecate : French regicides taught the doctrine, and disaffected
theorists taught it. I am sorry that a truth should be so connected ; but
it is not the less a truth. The "confusion of intellect" of which Gif
ford speaks probably subsisted more in the writer than in Fox, — for rea
sons which the reader has just seen, and because the biographer had
probably confounded the doctrine with the conduct of some who sup
ported it. The reader should practise a little of the power of abstrac
tion, and detach accidental associations from truth itself.
In reality, it cannot be asserted that the people do not rightfully pos
sess the supreme power, without asserting that governors may do what
they will, and be as tyrannical as they will. Who may prevent them?
The people ? Then the people hold the sovereign power.
Many political constitutions have existed in which the governor was
held to be absolutely the supreme power. The antiquity of such con
stitutions, or the regular succession of the existing governor, does not
make his pretensions to this power just, because the principles on which
it is ascertained that the people are supreme, are antecedent to all ques
tions of usage and superior to them. No injustice, therefore, is done, —
nothing wrong is done, — in diminishing or taking away the power of an
absolute monarch, notwithstanding the regularity of his pretensions to it.
* Rights of War and Peace.
CHAP. 1.] THE SOVEREIGN POWER. 235
Yet other principles have been held : and it was said of Louis the Six
teenth, that as he " was the sole maker and executor of the laws," and
as this power " had been exercised by him and by his ancestors for cen
turies without question or control, it was not in the power of the states
to deprive him of any portion of it without his own consent." So that
we are told that many millions of persons ought to be subject for ever
to the vices or caprices of one man, in compliment to the fact that their
predecessors had been subject before them.* He who maintains such
doctrine surely forgets for what purpose government is instituted at all.
The rule that " political power is rightly possessed only when it is
possessed by consent of the community," necessarily applies to the
choice of the person who is to exercise it. No man, and no set of men,
rightly govern, unless they are preferred by the public to others. It is
of no consequence that a people should formally select a president or a
king. They continually act upon the principle without this. A people
who are satisfied with their governor make, day by day, the choice oi
which we speak. They prefer him to all others ; they choose to be
served by him rather than by any other ; and he, therefore, is virtually,
though not formally, selected by the public. But, when we speak of the
right of a particular person or family to govern a people, we speak, as
of all other rights, in conditional language. The right consists in the
preference which is given to him ; and exists no longer than that prefer
ence exists. If any governor were fully conscious that the community
preferred another man or another kind of government, he ought to regard
himself in the light of a usurper if he nevertheless continues to retain
his power. Not that every government ought to dissolve itself, or every
governor to abdicate his office, because there is a general but temporary
clamour against it. This is one thing, — the steady deliberate judgment
of the people is another. — Is it too much to hope that the time may
come when governments will so habitually refer to the purposes of gov
ernment, and be regulated by them, that they will not even wish to hold
the reins longer than the people desire it ; and that nothing more will
be needed for a quiet alteration, than that the public judgment should be
quietly expressed ?
Political revolutions are not always favourable to the accurate illustra
tion of political truth ; because such is the moral condition of mankind,
that they have seldom acted in conformity with it. Revolutions have
commonly been the effect of the triumph of a party, or of the successes
of physical power. Yet, if the illustration of these principles has not
been accurate, the general position of the right of the people to select
their own rulers has often been illustrated. In our own country, when
James II. left the throne, the people filled it with another person, whose
real title consisted in the choice of the people. James continued to talk
of his rights to the crown ; but if William was preferred by the public,
James was, what his son was afterward called, a Pretender. The non-
jurors appear to have acted upon erroneous principles — (except indeed
* We do not here defend the conduct of the states, or censure that of Louis : we speak
merely of the political truth. That atrocious course of wickedness, the French Revolution,
was occasioned by the abuses of the old government and its ramifications. The French
people, unhappily, had neither virtue enough nor political knowledge enough to reform
these abuses by proper means. A revolution of some kind, and at some period, awaits, I
doubt not, every despotic government in Europe and in the world. Happy will it be for
those rulers who timely and wisely regard the irresistible progress of public opinion ! And
happy for those communities which endeavour reformation only by virtuous means !
236 CONCILIATING SYSTEM OF INTERNAL POLICY. [ESSAY III
on the score of former oaths to James ; which however ought never to
have been taken). — If we acquit them of motives of party, they will ap
pear to have entertained some notions of the rights of governors independ
ently of the wishes of the people. At William's death the nation pre
ferred James's daughter to his son ; thus again elevating their judgments
above all considerations of what the Pretender called his rights. Anne
had then a right to the throne, and her brother had not. At the death of
Anne, or rather in contemplation of her death, the public had again to
select their governor ; and they chose, not the immediate representative
of the old family, but the Elector of Hanover : and it is in virtue of the
same choice, tacitly expressed at the present hour, that the heir of the
elector now fills the throne.
[The habitual consciousness on the part of a legislature, that its ?u-
thority is possessed in order to make it an efficient guardian and promoter
of the general welfare and the general satisfaction, would induce a more
mild and conciliating system of internal policy than that which frequently
obtains. Whether it has arisen from habit resulting from the violent
and imperious character of inter-national policy, — or from that tendency
to unkindness and overbearing which the consciousness of power induces,
— it cannot be doubted that measures of governments are frequently
adopted and conducted with such a high hand as impairs the satisfaction
of the governed, and diminishes, by example, that considerate attention
to the claims of others, upon which much of the harmony, and therefore
the happiness, of society consists. Governments are too much afraid of
conciliation. They too habitually suppose that mildness or concession
indicates want of courage or want of power, — that it invites unreasonable
demands, and encourages encroachment and violence on the part of the
governed. — Man is not so intractable a being, or so insensible of the
influence of candour and justice. In private life, he does not the most
easily guide the conduct of his neighbours who assumes an imperious,
but he who assumes a temperate and mild demeanour. The best mode
of governing, and the most powerful mode too, is to recommend state
measures to the judgment and the affections of a people. If this had
been sufficiently done in periods of tranquillity, some of those conflicts
which have arisen between governments and the people had doubtless
been prevented ; and governments had been spared the mortification of
conceding that to violence which they refused to concede in periods of
quiet. We should not wait for times of agitation to do that which Fox
advised even at such a time, — because at other periods it may be done
with greater advantage, and with a better grace. ** It may be asked,"
said Fox, " what I would propose to do in times of agitation like the pres
ent ? I will answer openly : — If there is a tendency in the dissenters to
discontent, what should I do ? I would instantly repeal the corporation
and test acts, and take from them thereby all cause of complaint. If
there were any persons tinctured with a republican spirit, I -would en
deavour to amend the representation of the commons, and to prove that
the House of Commons, though not chosen by all, should have no other
interest than to prove itself the representative of all. If men were dis
satisfied on account of disabilities or exemptions, &c., I would repeal the
penal statutes, which are a disgrace to our law-books. If there were
other complaints of grievance, I would redress them where they were
really proved : but above all, I would constantly, cheerfully, patiently
CHAP. i.] EXERCISE OF POWER. 237
listen : I would make it known that if any man felt, or thought he felt, a
grievance, he might come freely to the bar of this House and bring his
proofs. And it should be made manifest to all the world, that where they
did exist they should be redressed ; where not, it should be made mani
fest."*
We need not consider the particular examples and measures which the
statesman instanced. The temper and spirit is the thing. A govern
ment should do that of which every person would see the propriety in a
private man: — if misconduct was charged upon him, show that the
charge was unfounded ; or, being substantiated, amend his conduct.]
n.
" POLITICAL POWER IS RIGHTLY EXERCISED ONLY WHEN IT SUBSERVES THE
WELFARE OF THE COMMUNITY."
This proposition is consequent, of the truth of the last. The community,
which has the right to withhold power, delegates it of course for its own
advantage. If in any case its advantage is not consulted, then the object
for which it was delegated is frustrated, — or in simple words, the meas
ure which does not promote the public welfare is not right. " It matters
nothing whether the community have delegated specifically so much
power for such and such purposes : the power, being possessed, entails
the obligation. Whether a sovereign derives absolute authority by in
heritance, or whether a president is intrusted with limited authority for
a year, the principles of their duty are the same. The obligation to em
ploy it only for the public good is just as real and just as great in one
case as in the other. The Russian and the Turk have the same right to
require that the power of their ruler shall be so employed, as the Eng
lishman or American. They may not be able to assert this right, but
that does not affect its existence nor the ruler's duty, — nor his responsi
bility to that Almighty Being before whom he must give an account of his
stewardship. These reasonings, if they needed confirmation, derive it
from the fact that the Deity imperatively requires us, according to our
opportunities, to do good to man.
But, how ready soever men are to admit the truth of this proposition
as a proposition, it'is very commonly disregarded in practice : and a vast
variety of motives and objects direct the conduct of governments which
have no connexion with the public weal. Some pretensions of consult
ing the public weal are, indeed, usual. It is not to be supposed that
when public officers are pursuing their own schemes and interests, they
will tell the people that they disregard theirs. When we look over the
history of a Christian nation, it is found that a large proportion of these
measures which are most prominent in it, had little tendency to sub
serve, and did not subserve, the public good. In practice it is very often
forgotten for what purpose governments are instituted. If a man were
to look over twenty treaties, he would probably find that half of
them had very little to do with the welfare of the respective communi-
* Fell's Memoirs of the Public Life of C. J. Fox.
238 INTERFERENCE IN THE POLITICS OF NATIONS. [Ess^Y III.
ties. He might find a great deal about Charles's rights, and Frederick's
honour, and Louis's possessions, and Francis's interests, — as if the
proper subjects of international arrangements were those which respected
rulers rather than communities. If a man looks over the state papers
which inform him of the origin of a war, he will probably find that they
agitate questions about most Christian and most Catholic kings, and
high mightinesses, and imperial majesties, — questions, however, in which
Frenchmen, and Spaniards, and Dutch, and Austrians are very little in
terested or concerned, or at any rate much less interested than they are
in avoiding the quarrel.
Governments commonly trouble themselves unnecessarily and too
much with the politics of other nations. A prince should turn his back
towards other countries and his face towards his own, — -just as the proper
place of a landholder is upon his own estates, and not upon his neigh
bour's. If governments were wise, it would ere long be found, that a
great portion of the endless and wearisome succession of treaties, and
remonstrances, and embassies, and alliances, and memorials, and subsi
dies might be dispensed with, with so little inconvenience and so much
benefit, that the world wrould wonder to think to what futile ends they
had been busying and how needlessly they had been injuring them
selves.
No doubt, the immoral and irrational system of international politics
which generally obtains makes the path of one government more difficult
than it would otherwise be ; and yet it is probable that the most efficacious
way of inducing another government to attend to its proper business
would be to attend to our own. It is not sufficiently considered, nor
indeed is it sufficiently known, how powerful is the influence of upright
ness and candour in conciliating the good opinion and the good offices of
other men. Overreaching and chicanery in one person induce over
reaching and chicanery in another. Men distrust those whom they per
ceive to be unworthy of confidence. Real integrity is not without its
voucher in the hearts of others ; and they who maintain it are treated
with confidence, because it is seen that confidence can be safely reposed.
Besides, he who busies himself with the politics of foreign countries, like
the busybodies in a petty community, does not fail to offend. In the
last century, our own country was so much of a busybody, and had
involved itself in such a multitude of treaties and alliances, that it was
found, I believe, quite impossible to fulfil one without, by that very act,
violating another. This, of course, would offend. In private life, that
man passes through the world with the least annoyance and the greatest
satisfaction who confines his attention to its proper business, that is,
generally, to his own : and who can tell why the experience of nations
should in this case be different from that of private men ? In a rectified
state of international affairs, half a dozen princes on a continent would
have little more occasion to meddle with one another than half a dozen
neighbours in a street.
But, indeed, communities frequently contribute to their own injury. —
If governors are ambitious, or resentful, or proud, so, often, are the
people ; and the public good has often been sacrificed by the public,
with astonishing preposterousness, to jealousy or vexation. Some mer
chants are angry at the loss of a branch of trade ; they urge the govern
ment to interfere ; memorials and remonstrances follow to the state of
whom they complain ;— and so, by that process of exasperation which is
CHAP. 1.] THE PROPER BUSINESS OF GOVERNMENTS. 239
quite natural when people think that high language and a high attitude is
politic, the nations soon begin to fight. The merchants applaud the
spirit of their rulers, — while in one year they lose more by the war than
they would have lost by the want of the trade for twenty ; and before
peace returns, the nation has lost more than it would have lost by the
continuance of the evil for twenty centuries. Peace at length arrives,
and the government begins to devise means of repairing the mischiefs
of the war. Both government and people reflect very complacently on
the wisdom of their measures, — forgetting that their conduct is only that
of a man who wantonly fractures his own leg with a club, and then boasts
to his neighbours how dexterously he limps to a surgeon.
Present expedients for present occasions, rather than, a wide-embracing
and far-seeing policy, is the great characteristic of European politics.
We are hucksters who cannot resist the temptation of a present sixpence,
rather than merchants who wait for their profits for the return of a fleet.
Si quads monumentum, circumspice. Look at the condition of either
of the continental nations, and consider what it might have been if even a
short" line of princes had attended to their proper business, — had directed
their solicitude to the improvement of the moral and social and political
condition of the people. Who has been more successful in this huckster
policy than France ? and what is France, and what are the French
people, at the present hour ? Why, as it respects real welfare, they are
not merely surpassed, they are left at an immeasurable distance, by a
people who sprang up but as yesterday, — by a people whose land, within
the memory of our grandfathers, was almost -a wilderness, — and which
actually was a wilderness, long since France boasted of her greatness.
Such results have a cause. It is not possible that systems of policy can
be good of which the effects are so bad. I speak not of particular
measures or of individual acts of ill policy, — these are not likely to be
the result of the condition of man, — but of the whole international system,
— a system of irritability, and haughtiness, and temporary expedients ; a
system of most unphilosophical principles, and from which Christianity
is practically almost excluded. Here is the evidence of fact before us.
We know what a sickening detail the history of Europe is. And it is
obvious to remark, that the system which has given rise to such a history
must be vicious and mistaken in its fundamental principles. The same
class of history will continue to after generations, unless these principles
are changed, — unless philosophy and Christianity obtain a greater in
fluence in the practice of government; unless, in a word, governments
are content to do their proper business, and to leave that which is not
their business undone.
When such principles are acted upon we may reasonably expect a
rapid advancement in the whole condition of the world. Domestic
measures, which are now postponed to the more stirring occupations ot
legislators, will be found to be of incomparably greater importance than
they. A wise code of criminal law will be found to be of more conse
quence and interest than the acquisition of a million square miles of
territory ; — a judicious encouragement of general education will be of
more value than all the " glory" that has been acquired from the days
of Alfred till now. Of moral legislation, however, it will be our after
business to speak ; meanwhile, the lover of mankind has some reason
for gratulation in perceiving indications that governments will hereafter
direct their attention more to the objects foi which they are invested
240 NATIONS NOT EXEMPTED FROM THE [ESSAY III.
with powt1*. The statesman who promotes this improvement will be
what many statesmen have been called — a great man. That government
only is great which promotes the prosperity of its own people ; and that
people only are prosperous who are wise and happy.
III.
" POLITICAL POWER IS RIGHTLY EXERCISED ONLY WHEN IT SUBSERVES
THE WELFARE OF THE COMMUNITY BY MEANS WHICH THE MORAL
LAW PERMITS."
It has been said by a Christian writer, that " the science of politics is
but a particular application of that of morals ;" and it has been said by
a writer who rejected Christianity, that "the morality that ought to
govern the conduct of individuals and of nations is, in all cases, the
same." If there be truth in the principles which are advanced in the
first of these Essays, these propositions are indisputably true. It is the
chief purpose of the present work to enforce the supremacy of the moral
law ; and to this supremacy there is no exception in the case of nations.
In the conduct of nations this supremacy is practically denied ; although,
perhaps, few of those who make it subservient to other purposes would
deny it in terms. With their lips they honour the doctrine, but in their
works they deny it. Such procedures must be expected to produce
much self-contradiction, much vacillation between truth and the wish to
disregard it. much vagueness of notions respecting political rectitude,
and much casuistry to educe something like a justification of what cannot
be justified. Let the reader observe an illustration : A moral philosopher
says, — " The Christian principles of love, and forbearance^ and kindness,
strictly as they are to be observed between man and man, are to be
observed with precisely the same strictness between nation and nation"
This is an unqualified assertion of the truth. But the writer thinks it
would carry hiir too far, and so he makes exceptions. "In reducing to
orao' ••• -c cne Christian principles of forbearance, &c., it will not be always
Feasible, nor always safe, to proceed to the same extent as in acting
towards an individual." Let the reader exercise his skill in casuistry
by showing the difference between conforming to laws with " precise
strictness," and conforming to them in their " full extent." — Thus far
Christianity and expediency are proposed as our joint governors. — We
must observe the moral law, — but still we must regulate our observance
of it by considerations of what is feasible and safe. Presently after
ward, however, Christianity is quite dethroned ; and we are to observe
its laws only " so far as national ability and national security will permit."*
— So that our rule of political conduct stands at length thus : obey Chris
tianity with precise strictness — when it suits your interests.
The reasoning by which such doctrines are supported is such as it
might be expected to be. We are told of the " caution requisite in
affairs of such magnitude," — " the great uncertainty of the future conduct
of the other nation," — and of " patriotism." — So that because the affairs
* Gisborne's Moral Philosophy.
CHAP. 1.] OBLIGATIONS OF THE MORAL LAW. 241
are of great magnitude the laws of the Deity are not to be observed ! It
is all very well, it seems, to observe them in little matters, but for our
more important concerns we want rules commensurate with their dignity,
—we cannot then be bound by the laws of God ! The next reason is,
that we cannot foresee " the future conduct" of a nation. — Neither can
we that of an individual. Besides this, inability to foresee inculcates
the very lesson that we ought to observe the laws of Him who can fore
see. It is a strange thing to urge the limitation of our powers of judg
ment as a reason for substituting it for the judgment of Him whose powers
are perfect. Then " patriotism" is a reason ; and we are to be patriotic
to our country at the expense of treason to our religion !
The principles upon which these reasonings are founded lead to their
legitimate results : " In war and negotiation," says Adam Smith, " the
laws of justice are very seldom observed. Truth and fair dealing are
almost totally disregarded. Treaties are violated, and the violation, if
some advantage is gained by it, sheds scarce any dishonour upon the
violator. The ambassador who dupes the minister of a foreign nation
is admired and applauded. The just man, the man who in all private
transactions would be the most beloved and the most esteemed, in those
public transactions is regarded as a fool and an idiot, who does not
understand his business ; and he incurs always the contempt, and some
times even the detestation, of his fellow-citizens."*
Now, against all such principles, — against all endeavours to defend
the rejection of the moral law in political affairs, we would with all
emphasis protest. The reader sees that it is absurd : can he need to
be convinced that it is unchristian ? Christianity is of paramount author
ity, or another authority is superior. He who holds another authority
as superior rejects Christianity ; and the fair and candid step would be
avowedly to reject it. He should say, in distinct terms — Christianity
throws some light on political principles ; but its laws are to be held
subservient to our interests. This were far more satisfactory than the
trimming system, the perpetual vacillation of obedience to two masters,
and the perpetual endeavour to do that which never can be done —
serve both.
Jesus Christ legislated for man, — not for individuals only, not for
families only, not for Christian churches only, but for man in all his
relationships and in all his circumstances. He legislated for states. In
his moral law we discover no indications that states were exempted from
its application, or that any rule which bound social did not bind political
communities. If any exemption were designed, the onus probandi rests
upon those who assert it : unless they can show that the Christian
precepts are not intended to apply to nations, the conclusion must be
admitted that they are. But in reality, to except nations from the obli
gations is impossible ; for nations are composed of individuals, and if no
individual may reject the Christian morality, a nation may not. Unless,
indeed, it can be shown that when you are an agent for others you may
dp what neither yourself nor any of them might do separately, — a propo
sition of which certainly the proof must be required to be very clear and
strong.
But the truth is that those who justify a suspension of Christian mo
rality in political affairs are often unwilling to reason distinctly and
* Theory of Moral Sentiments.
Q
242 DEVIATION" FROM RECTITUDE IMPOLITIC. [ESSAY III.
candidly upon the subject. They satisfy themselves with a jest, or a
sneer, or a shrug ; being unwilling either to contemn morality in poli
tics, or to practise it : and it is to little purpose to offer arguments to him
who does not need conviction but virtue.
Expediency is the rock upon which we split, — upon which, strange as
it appears, not only our principles but our interests suffer continual ship
wreck. It has been upon expediency that European politics have so long
been founded, with such lamentably inexpedient effects. We consult
our interests so anxiously that we ruin them. But we consult them blindly :
we do not know our interests, nor shall we ever know them while we
continue to imagine that we know them better than He who legislated
for the world. Here is the perpetual folly as well as the perpetual crime.
Esteeming ourselves wise, we have, emphatically, been fools, — of which
no other evidence is necessary than the present political condition of the
Christian world. If ever it was true of any human being, that by his
deviations from rectitude he had provided scourges for himself, it is true
at this hour of every nation in Europe.
Let us attend to this declaration of a man who, whatever may have
been the value of his general politics, was certainly a great statesman
here : " I am one of those who tirmly believe, as much indeed as a man
can believe any thing, that the greatest resource a nation can possess, the
surest principle of power, is strict attention to the principles of justice.
I firmly believe that the common proverb of honesty being the best policy
is as applicable to nations as to individuals." — " In all interference with
foreign nations justice is the best foundation of policy, and moderation
is the surest pledge of peace." — " If therefore we have been deficient in
justice towards other states, we have been deficient in wisdom."*
Here, then, is the great truth for which we would contend, — to be un
just is to be unwise. And since justice is not imposed upon nations more
really than other branches of the moral law, the universal maxim is equally
true, — to deviate from purity of rectitude is impolitic as well as wrong.
When will this truth be learned, and be acted upon ? When shall we
cast away the contrivances of a low and unworthy policy, and dare the
venture of the consequences of virtue ? When shall we, in political
affairs, exercise a little of that confidence in the knowledge and protec
tion of God which we are ready to admire in individual life ? — Not that
it is to be assumed as certain that such fidelity would cost nothing. Chris
tianity makes no such promise. But, whatever it might cost, it would be
worth the purchase. And neither reason nor experience allows the
doubt that a faithful adherence to the moral law would more effectually
serve national interests, than they have ever yet been served by the
utmost sagacity while violating that law.
The contrivances of expediency have become so habitual to measures
of state, that it may probably be thought the dreamings of a visionary to
suppose it possible that they should be substituted by purity of rectitude.
And yet I believe it will eventually be done, — not perhaps by the resolu
tion of a few cabinets, — it is not from them that reformation is to be ex
pected, — but by the gradual advance of sound principles upon the minds
of men ; principles which will assume more and more their rightful
influence in the world, until at length the low contrivances of a fluctua-
* Fell's Memoirs of the Public Life of C. J. Fox.
CHAP. 2.] CIVIL LIBERTY. 243
ting and immoral policy will be substituted by firm, and consistent, and
invariable intvrity.
The convention of what is called the Holy Alliance was an extraordi
nary event ; and little as the contracting parties may have acted in con
formity with it, and little as they or their people were prepared for such
a change of principles, it is a subject of satisfaction that such a state
paper exists. It contains a testimony at least to virtue and to rectitude ;
and even if we should suppose it to be utterly hypocritical, the testimony
is just as real. Hypocrisy commonly affects a character which it ought
to maintain ; and the act of hypocrisy is homage to the character. In
this view, I say, it is subject of some satisfaction that a document exists
which declares that these powerful princes have come to a " fixed reso
lution, both in the administration of their respective states and in their
political relations with every other government, to take for their sole
guide the precepts of the Christian religion, — the precepts of justice,
Christian charity, and peace:" and which declares that these principles,
" far from being applicable only to private concerns, must have an imme
diate influence on the councils of princes, as being the only means of
consolidating human institutions, and remedying their imperfections."
The time, it may be hoped, will arrive when such a declaration will
be the congenial and natural result of principles that are actually gov
erning the Christian world. Meantime, let the philosopher and the
statesman keep that period in their view, and endeavour to accelerate its
approach. He who does this will secure a fame for himself that will
increase and still increase as the virtue of man holds its onward course,
while multitudes of the great, both of past ages and of the present, will
become beacons to warn rather than examples to stimulate us
CHAPTER II.
CIVIL LIBERTY.
OF personal liberty we say nothing, because its full possession is in
compatible with the existence of society. All government supposes the
relinquishment of a portion of personal liberty.
Civil liberty may however be fully enjoyed. It is enjoyed where the
principles of political truth and rectitude are applied in practice, because
there the people are deprived of that portion only of liberty which it
would be pernicious to themselves to possess. If political power is pos
sessed by consent of the community, — if it is exercised only for their
good, — and if this welfare is consulted by Christian means, the people are
free. No man can define the particular enjoyments or exemptions which
constitute civil liberty, because they are contingent upon the circum
stances of the respective nations. A degree of restraint may be neces
sary for the general welfare of one community, which would be wholly
unnecessary in another. Yet the first would have no reason to complain
of their want of civil liberty. The complaint, if any be made, should
be of the evils which make the restraint necessary The single quesi
Q3
244 LOSS OF LIBERTY— WAR. [ESSAY III.
tion is, whether any given degree of restraint is necessary or not. If it
is, though the restraint may be painful, the civil liberty of the community
may be said to be complete. It is useless to say that it is less complete
than that of another nation ; for complete civil liberty is a relative and
not a positive enjoyment. Were it otherwise, no people enjoy, or are
likely for ages to enjoy, full civil liberty ; because none enjoy so much
that they could not, in a more virtuous state of mankind, enjoy more. "It
is not the rigour, but the inexpediency, of laws and acts of authority,
which makes them tyrannical."'*
Civil liberty (so far as its present enjoyment goes) does not necessa
rily depend upon forms of government. All communities enjoy it who
are properly governed. It may be enjoyed under an absolute monarch ;
as we know it may not be enjoyed under a republic. Actual, existing
liberty depends upon the actual, existing administration.
One great cause of diminutions of civil liberty is war : and if no other
motive induced a people jealously to scrutinize the grounds of a war,
this might be sufficient. The increased loss of personal freedom to a
military man is manifest ; and it is considerable to other men. The
man who now pays twenty pounds a year in taxes would probably have
paid but two if there had been no war during the past century. If he
now gets a hundred and fifty pounds a year by his exertions, he is obliged
to labour six weeks out of the fifty-two, to pay the taxes which war has
entailed. That is to say, he is compelled to work two hours every day
longer than he himself wishes, or than is needful for his support. This
is a material deduction from personal liberty ; and a man would feel it as
such if the coercion were directly applied, — if an officer came to his house
every afternoon at four o'clock, when he had finished his business, and
obliged him under penalty of a distraint to work till six. It is some loss
of liberty again to a man to be unable to open as many windows in his house
as he pleases, — or to be forbidden to acknowledge the receipt of a debt
without going to the next town for a stamp, — or to be obliged to ride in
an uneasy carriage unless he will pay for springs. It were to no purpose
to say he may pay for windows and springs if he will, and if he can.
A slave may, by the same reasoning be shown to be free ; because, if he
will and if he can, he may purchase his freedom. There is a loss of
liberty in being obliged to submit to the alternative ; and we should feel
it as a loss if such things were not habitual, and if we had not receded
so considerably from the liberty of nature. A housewife on the Ohio
would think it a strange invasion of her liberty, if she were told that
henceforth the police would be sent to her house to seize her goods if
she made any more soap to wash her clothes.
Now, indeed, that war has created a large public debt, it is necessary
to the general good that its interest should be paid : and in this view a
man's civil liberty is not encroached upon, though his personal liberty is
diminished. The public welfare is consulted by the diminution. I may
deplore the cause without complaining of the law. It may upon emer
gency be for the public good to suspend the habeas corpus act. I should
lament that such a state of things existed, but I should not complain that
civil liberty was invaded. The lesson which such considerations teach
is jealous watchfulness against wars for the future.
There are many other acts of governments by which civil liberty is
* Paley • Mor. and Pol. Phil. p.3,b. 6, c. 5, -
CHAP> 3-] POLITICAL LIBERTY. 245
needlessly curtailed, among which may be reckoned the number of laws.
Every law implies restriction. To be destitute of laws is to be abso
lutely free ; to multiply laws is to multiply restrictions, or, which is the
same thing, to diminish liberty. A great number of penal statutes lately
existed in this country by which the reasonable proceedings of a prose
cutor were cramped, and impeded, and thwarted. A statesman to whom
England is much indebted has supplied their place by one which is more
ational and more simple; and prosecutors now find that they are so
much more able to consult their own understandings in their proceed-
mgs, that it may, without extravagance, be said that our civil liberty is
increased.
" A law being found to produce no sensible good effects is a suffi
cient reason for repealing it."* It is not therefore sufficient to ask in
reply, What harm does the law occasion ? for you must prove that it
does good : because all laws which do no good do harm. They encroach
upon or restrain the liberty of the community, without that reason which
only can make the deduction of any portion of liberty right— the public
good. If this rule were sufficiently attended to, perhaps more than a
few of the laws of England would quickly be repealed.
CHAPTER III.
POLITICAL LIBERTY.
THIS is, in strictness, a branch of civil liberty. Political liberty
implies the existence of such political institutions as secure, with the
greatest practicable certainty, the future possession of freedom, — the
existence of which institutions is one of the requisites, in a general
sense, of civil liberty; because it is as necessary to proper government
that securities for freedom should be framed as that present freedom
should be permitted.
The possession of political liberty is of great importance. A Russian
may enjoy as great a share of personal freedom as an Englishman ; that
is, he may find as few restrictions upon the exercise of his own will ;
but he has no security for the continuance of this. For aught that he
knows, he may be arbitrarily thrown into prison to-morrow; and there
fore, though he may live and die without, molestation, he is politically
enslaved. When it is considered how much human happiness depends
upon the security of enjoy ing happiness in future, such institutions as those
of Russia are great grievances ; and Englishmen, though they may regret
the curtailment of some items of civil liberty, have much comparative
reason to think themselves politically free.
The possession of political liberty is unquestionably a right of a com
munity. They may with perfect reason require it even of governments
which actually govern well. It is not enough for a government to say,
None but beneficial laws and acts of authority are adopted. It must, if
it would fulfil the duties of a government, accumulate, to the utmost,
* Paley. Mor and Pol. Phil p. 3, b. 6, c. 5.
246 POLITICAL LIBERTY. [ESSAY III.
securities for beneficial measures hereafter. In this view, it may be
feared that no government in Europe fulfils all its duty to the people.
And here considerations are suggested respecting the representation
of a people, — a point which, if some political writers were to be listened
to, was a sine qua non of political liberty. " To talk of an abstract
right of equal representation is absurd. It is to arrogate a right to one
form of government, whereas Providence has accommodated the different
forms of government to the different states of society in which they sub
sist."* If an inhabitant of Birmingham should come and tell me that
he and his neighbours were debarred of political liberty because they
sent no representatives to parliament, I should say that the justness of
his complaint was problematical. It does not follow because a man is not
represented that he is not politically free. The question is, whether as
good securities for liberty exist, without permitting him to vote, as with
it. If it can be shown that the present legislative government affords as
good a security for the future freedom of the people as any other that
might be devised, the inhabitant of Birmingham enjoys, at present, politi
cal liberty. It is a very common mistake among writers to assume some
particular privilege or institution as a test of this liberty, — as something
without which it cannot be enjoyed, — and yet I suppose there is no one
of their institutions or privileges under which it would not be possible
to enslave a people. Simple republicanism, universal suffrage, and fre
quent elections might afford no better security for civil liberty than abso
lute monarchy. In fine, political liberty is not a matter that admits of
certain conclusions from theoretical reasoning : it is a question of facts :
a question to be decided, like questions of philosophy, by reasoning
founded upon experience. If the inhabitant of Birmingham can show,
from relevant experience, good ground to conclude that greater security
for liberty would be derived from extending the representation, he has
reason to complain of an undue privation of political liberty if it is not
extended.
But then it is always incumbent upon the legislature to prove the
probable superiority of the existing institutions, when any considerable
portion of the people desire an alteration. That desire constitutes a
claim to investigation ; and to an alteration too, unless the existing insti
tutions appear to be superior to those which are desired. It is not
enough to show that they are as good, — for though in other respects the
two plans were equally balanced, the present are not so good as the
others if they give less satisfaction to the community. To be satisfied
is one great ingredient in the welfare of a people : and in whatever
degree a people are not satisfied, in the same degree civil government
does not perfectly effect its proper ends. To deny satisfaction to a
people without showing a reason is to withhold from them the due por
tion of civil liberty.
* William Pitt : Gifford's Life, vol. iii.
CHAP. 4.] RELIGIOUS LIBERTY— CIVIL DISABILITIES. 247
CHAPTER IV.
RELIGIOUS LIBERTY.
THE magistate may advert to subjects connected with religion, so far
as the public good requires, and as Christianity permits, — or, upon these,
as upon other subjects, he may endeavour to promote the welfare of the
people by Christian means. What the public welfare does require, and
what moans for promoting it ore-Christian, are separate considerations.
Upon which grounds, those advocates of religious liberty appear to
assert too much who assert, as a fundamental principle, that a govern
ment never has, nor can have, any just concern with religious opinions.
Unless these persons can show that no advertence to them is allowed by
Christianity, and that none can contribute to the public good, — circum
stances may arise in which an advertence would be right. No one per
haps will deny that a government may lawfully provide for the education
of the people, and endeavour to difl'us.e just notions and principles, moral
and religious, into the public mind. A government, therefore, may
endeavour to discountenance unsound notions and principles. It may as
reasonably discourage what is wrong as cherish what is right.
But by what means ? By influencing opinions, not by punishing per
sons who hold them. When a man publishes a book or delivers a lecture
for the purpose of enlightening the public mind, he does well. A
government may take kindred measures for the same purpose, — and it
does well. But this is all. If our author or lecturer, finding his opinions
were not accepted, should proceed to injure those who rejected them, he
would act, not only irrationally, but immorally. If a government, finding
its measures do not influence or alter the views of the people, injures
those who reject its sentiments, it acts immorally too. A man's opinions
are not alterable at his own will ; and it is not right to injure a man for
doing that which he cannot avoid. Besides, in religious matters especially,
it is the Christian duty of a man, first, to seek truth, and next to adhere
to those opinions which truth, as he believes, teaches. And so again it
is not right to injure a man for doing that which it is his duty to do.
When, therefore, it is affirmed, at the head of this chapter, that the
magistrate may advert to subjects connected with religion, nothing more
is to be understood than that he may endeavour to diffuse just sentiments,
and to expose the contrary. To do more than this, although he may
think his measures may promote the public welfare, would be to endeav
our to promote it " by means which the moral law forbids."
To inflict civil disabilities is " to do more than this," it is " to injure a
man for doing that which he cannot avoid," and " that which it is his
duty to do." Here, indeed, a sophism has been resorted to in order to
show that disabilities are not injuries. It is said of the dissenters of this
country, that no penalty is inflicted upon them by excluding them from
offices, that the state confers certain offices upon certain conditions, with
which conditions a dissenter does not comply. And it is said that this
248 INTERFERENCE OF THE MAGISTRATE. [ESSAY III
is no more a penalty or a hardship than, when the law defines what pecu
niary qualifications capacitate a man for a seat in parliament, it inflicts
a penalty upon those who do not possess them. I answer, Both are
penalties and hardships, and that the argument only attempts to justify
one ill practice by the existence of another. It will be said that such
regulations are necessary to the public good. Bring the proof. Here is
a certain restraint : " The proof of the advantage of a restraint," says
Dr. Paley, " lies upon the legislature." Unless, therefore, you can show,
— what to me is extremely problematical, — that the public is benefited
by a law that excludes a poor man from the legislature, the argument
wholly fails. Consider for what purpose men unite in society, " in order,"
says Grotius, " to enjoy common rights and advantages," — of which
rights and advantages, eligibility to a representative body is one. Those
principles of political rectitude which determine that a law which need
lessly restrains natural liberty is wrong, determine that a law which
needlessly restrains the enjoyment of the privileges of society is wrong
also. It is therefore not true that a dissenter suffers no hardship or
penalty on account of his opinions. The only difference between dis
abilities and ordinary penalties is this, that one inflicts evil and the other
withholds good ; and both are, to all intents and purposes, penalties.
But even if the legislator thought he could show that the public were
benefited by this penalty, upon conscientious dissidents, it would not b<i
sufficient, — for the penalty itself is wrong, — it is not Christian ; and it is
vain to argue that an unchristian act can be made lawful by prospects
of advantage. Here, as everywhere else, we must maintain the supremacy
of the moral law.
All these reasonings proceed upon the supposition that a man does
not, in consequence of his opinions, disturb the peace of society by any
species of violence. If he does, he is doubtless to be restrained. It
may not be more necessary for the magistrate to inquire what are a
man's opinions of religion, than for a rider to inquire what are the cogi
tations of his horse. So long as my horse carries me well, it matters
nothing to me whether he be thinking of safe paces or of meadows and
corn-chests. So long as the welfare of the public is secured, it matters
nothing to the magistrate what notion of Christianity a citizen accepts.
But if my horse, in his anxiety to get into a meadow, leaps over a hedge,
and impedes me in my journey, it is needful that I employ the whip and
bridle : and if the citizen, in his zeal for opinions, violates the general
good, it is needful that he should be punished or restrained. And even
then, he is not restrained for his opinions but for his conduct ; just as I
do not apply the whip to my horse because he loves a meadow, but
because he goes out of the road.
And even in the case of conduct, it is needful to discriminate, accu
rately, what is a proper subject of animadversion and what is not. 1
perceive no truth in the ingenious argument, " That a man may entertain
opinions, however pernicious, but he may not be allowed to disseminate
them ; as a man may keep poison in his house, but may not be allowed
to give it to others as wholesome medicine." To support this argument
you must have recourse to a petitio principii. How do you know that
an opinion is pernicious 1 By reasoning and examination, if at all ; and
that is. the very end which the dissemination of an opinion attains. If
the truth or falsehood of an opinion were demonstrable to the senses, as
the mischief of poison is, there would be some justness in the argument;
CHAP. 4.] REFERENCE TO CREEDS— TOLERATION. 249
but it is not ; except, indeed, that there may be opinions so monstrous,
that they immediately manifest their unsoundness by their effects on the
conduct ; and if they do this, these effects, and not the dissemination of
the opinion, are the proper subject of animadversion. The doctrine, that
a man ought not to be punished for disseminating whatever opinions he
pleases, upon whatever subject, will receive some illustration in a future
chapter. Meantime, the reader will, I hope, be prepared to admit, at
least, that the religious opinions which obtain among Christian churches
are not such as to warrant the magistrate in visiting those who dissemi
nate them with any kind of penalty. What the magistrate may punish,
and what an individual ought to do, are very different considerations :
and though there is reason to think that no man should be punished by
human laws for disseminating vicious notions, it is to be believed that
those who consciously do it will be held far other than innocent at the
bar of God.
All reference to creeds in framing laws for a general society is wrong.
And it is somewhat humiliating that, in the present age, and in our coun
try, it is necessary to establish this proposition by formal proof. It is
humiliating, because it shows us how slow is the progress of sound prin
ciples upon the human mind, even when they are not only recommended
by reason but enforced by experience. It is now nearly a century and
a half since one of our own colonies adopted a system of religious liberty
which far surpassed that of the parent state at the present hour. And
this system was successful, not negatively, in that it produced no evil,
but positively, in that it produced much good. One hundred and fifty
years is a long time for a nation to be learning a short and plain lesson.
In Pennsylvania, in addition to a complete toleration of " Jews, Turks,
Catholics, and people of all persuasions in religion,"* there was no dis
ability or test exacted of any professor of the Christian faith. " All per
sons," says Burke, " who profess to believe in one God are freely toler
ated. Those who believe in Jesus Christ, of whatever denomination,
are not excluded from employments and posts."! The wisdom or justice
of excluding those who were not Christians from employments and posts
may be doubted. Penn, however, did much; and far outstripped in
enlightened institutions the general example of the world. If he had
lived in the present day, it is not improbable that a mind like his would
have seen no better reason for excluding those who disbelieved Chris
tianity than those who believed it imperfectly or by parts. The conse
quences, we say, were happy. Burke says again of Penn, " He made
the most perfect freedom, both religious and civil, the basis of his estab
lishment ; and this has done more towards the settling of the province,
and towards the settling of it in a strong and permanent manner, than the
wisest regulations could have done on any other plan."j " By the
favourable terms," says Morse, " which Mr. Penn offered to settlers, and
an unlimited toleration of all religious denominations, the population of
the province was extremely rapid."§ And yet England is, at this present
hour, doubting and disputing whether tests are right !
Nor is example wanted at the present day. — " In America, the
question is not, What is his creed ? but, What is his conduct ? Jews
have all the privileges of Christians. — No religious test is required to
* Clarkson's Life of Penn. t Account of European Settlements in America, lib.
§ American Geography. See also Anderson's Deduction of the Origin of Commerce.
11
250 RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. [ESSAY III.
qualify for public office ; except, in some cases, a mere verbal assent to
the truth of the Christian religion. — While I was in New- York," adds
Duncan, " the sheriff of the city was a Jew."* — It is vain to make any
objection to the argument which these facts urge, unless we can show
that the effect is not good. And where is the man who will even affect
to do this ? But if it should be said that what is wise and expedient
with such national institutions as those of America would be unwise
and inexpedient with such institutions as those of England or Spain, it
will become a most grave inquiry, whether the fault does not lie with
the institutions that are not adapted to religious liberty : — for religious
liberty is assuredly adapted to man.
Observe what absurdities this sacrifice of universal rectitude to par
ticular institutions occasions. There may be ten nations on a continent,
each of which selects a different creed for its preference, and excludes
all others. The first excludes all but Catholics, — the second all but
Episcopalians, — the third all but Unitarians, — the fourth all but the Greek
Church ; and so on with the rest. If it be right that Unitarians should
be intrusted with power on one side of a river, can it be right that they
shall not be intrusted with it on the other ? Or, if such an absurdity be
really conducive to the support of the incongruous institutions of the
several states, is it not an evidence that those institutions need to be
amended ? And are not the principles of perfect religious liberty, never
theless, sound and true ?
Englishmen have not to complain of a want of toleration. But tolera
tion is a word which ought scarcely to be heard out of a Christian's mouth.
I tolerate the religion of my brother ! I might as well say I tolerate the
continuance of his head upon his shoulders. I have no more right to
hold his creed at my disposal, or his person in consequence of his creed,
than his head. The idea of toleration is a relic of the effects of the
papal usurpation. That usurpation did not tolerate: and Protestants
thought it was a great thing for them to do what the papacy had thus
refused. And so it was. It was a great thing for them. Very imper
fectly, however, they did it ; and it was a great thing for Penn, who was
brought up in a land of intolerant Protestants, to declare universal toler
ation for all within his borders. But — (arid we may reverently say,
Thanks be to God!) — we live in happier times. We have advanced
from intolerance to toleration ; and now it is time to advance from toler
ation to religious liberty : to that religious liberty which excludes all
reference to creeds from the civil institutions of a people.
The reader will perhaps have observed, that religious liberty and reli
gious establishments are incompatible things. An establishment pre
supposes incomplete religious liberty. If an establishment be right,
religious liberty is not ; and if religious liberty be right, an establishment
is not. Differently constituted religious establishments may no doubt,
impose greater or less restraint upon liberty ; but every idea of an estab
lishment — of a church preferred by the state — imposes some restraint.
It is the same with tests. A test, of some kind, is necessary to a church
* Duncan's Travels in America.
CHAP. 4.j "THE CATHOLIC QUESTION." 251
thus preferred by the state ; for how else shall it be known who is a
member of that church, and who is not ? Religious liberty is incompat
ible with religious tests ; for which reason again, all arguments by which
this liberty is shown to be right are so many proofs that religious tests
are wrong. These considerations the reader will be pleased to bear in
mind, when he considers the question of religious establishments.
Tests are snares for the conscience. If their terms are so loose that
any man can take them with a safe conscience, they are not tests. If
their terms are definite, they make many hypocrites. Men are induced
to assent, or subscribe, or perform (whatever the requisitions of the test
may be), against their consciences, in order to obtain the advantages
which are contingent upon it. An attempt was once made in England
to introduce an unexceptionable test ; by which the party was to declare
*' that the books of the Old and New Testaments contained, in his opin
ion, a revelation from God." But whom did this exclude ? Perhaps
Deists, Mahometans, Pagans, Jews. But, as a, snare, the operation was
serious ; for, simple as the test appears, it was liable to great uncer
tainty of meaning. Did it mean that all the books contained a revela
tion? Then some think that all the books are not authentic. Did it
mean that there was a revelation in some of the books of the Bible ?
Then Jews, Mahometans, Pagans, and some Deists might, for aught that
I know, conscientiously take it. No unexceptionable test is possible.
There are, to be sure, gradations of impropriety ; and in England we
have not always resorted to the least objectionable. It was well ob
served by Charles James Fox, that "the idea of making a religious rite
the qualification for holding a civil employment is more than absurd, and
deserves to be considered as a profanation of a sacred institution."
A few, and only a few, sentences will be allowed to the writer upon
the great, the very great question of extending religious liberty to the
Catholics of these kingdoms. I call it a very great question, not because
of the difficulty of deciding it, if sound principles are applied, but be
cause of the magnitude of the interests that are involved, and of the
consequences which may follow if those principles are not applied. —
The reader will easily perceive, from the preceding contents of this
chapter, the writer's conviction, that full religious liberty ought to be
extended to the Catholics, because it ought to be extended to all men.
If a Catholic acts in opposition to the public welfare, — diminish or take
away his freedom. If he only thinks amiss, — let him enjoy his freedom
undiminished.
To this I know of but one objection that is worth noticing here, —
that they are harmless only because they have not the power of doing
mischief, and that they wait only for the power to begin to do it. But
i they say, " This is not the case, — we have no such intentions." Now, in
i all reason, you must believe them, or show that they are unworthy of
i belief. If you believe them, religious liberty follows of course. *Can
,you then show that they are unworthy of belief? Where is your
evidence ?
You say, their allegiance is divided between the king and a foreign
power. They reply, "It is not:" "We hold ourselves bound, in con-
252 "THE CATHOLIC QUESTION." [ESSAY III.
science, to obey the civil government in all things of a temporal and
civil nature, notwithstanding any dispensation to the contrary from the
pope or Church of Rome."
You say, their declarations and oaths do not bind them, because they
hold that they can be dispensed from the obligation of all oaths by the
pope. — They reply, *' We do not :" " We hold that the obligation of an
oath is most sacred ; that no power whatsoever can dispense with any
oath, by which a Catholic has confirmed his duty of allegiance to his
sovereign, or any obligation of duty to a third person."
You say, they hold that faith is not to be kept with heretics. — They
reply, " We do not.'1 " British Catholics," say they, " have solemnly sworn
that they reject and detest that unchristian and impious principle, that
faith is not to be kept with heretics or infidels." These declarations
are taken from a "Declaration of the Catholic Bishops, the Vicars Apos
tolic, their coadjutors in Great Britain:" 1825. They are signed by the
Catholic bishops of Great Britain, and are approved in an " address"
signed by eight Catholic peers and a large number of other persons of
rank and character.
Now I ask of those who contend for the Catholic disabilities, What
proof do you bring that these men are trying to deceive you ? I can
anticipate no answer, because I have heard none. Will you then con
tent yourselves by saying, We will not believe them ? This would be
at least the candid course, and the world might then perceive that our
conduct was regulated, not by reason, but by prejudice, or the conscious
ness of power. " It is unwarrantable to infer, a priori, and contrary to
the professions and declarations of the persons holding such opinions,
that their opinions would induce acts injurious to the common weal."*
But if nothing can be said to show that the Catholic declarations do
not bind them, something can be said to show that they do. If declara
tions be indeed so little binding upon their consciences, how comes it to
pass that they do not make those declarations which would remove their
disabilities, get a dispensation from the pope, and so enjoy both the privi
leges and an easy conscience ? Why, if their oaths and declarations
did not bind them, they would get rid of their disabilities to-morrow !
Nothing is wanting but a few hypocritical declarations, and Catholic
emancipation is effected. Why do they not make these declarations ?
Because their words bind them. And yet (so gross is the absurdity),
although it is their conscientiousness which keeps them out of office, we
say they are to be kept out because they are not conscientious !
I forbear further inquiry : but I could not with satisfaction avoid ap
plying what I conceive to be the sound principles of political rectitude
to this great question ; and let no man allow his prejudices or his fears
to prevent him from applying them to this, as to every other political
subject. Justice and truth are not to be sacrificed to our weaknesses
and apprehensions ; and I believe, that if the people and legislature of
this country will adhere to justice and truth with regard to our Catholic
brethren, they will find, ere long, that they have only been delaying the
welfare of the empire.
* C. J. Fox : Gifford's Life of Pitt, vol. ii.
CHAP. 5.1 CIVIL OBEDIENCE. 258
CHAPTER V.
CIVIL OBEDIENCE.
*!•.• ; ' e. •„.
Submission to government is involved in the very idea of the institu
tion. None can govern if none submit : and hence is derived the duty
of submission, so far as it is independent of Christianity. Government
being necessary to the good of society, submission is necessary also, and
therefore it is right.
This duty is enforced with great distinctness by Christianity : — " Be
subject to principalities and powers." — " Obey magistrates." — " Submit
to every ordinance of man." — The great question, therefore, is, whether
the duty be absolute and unconditional ; and if not, what are its limits,
and how are they to be ascertained ?
The law of nature proposes few motives to obedience except those
which are dictated by expediency. The object of instituting govern
ment being the good of the governed, any means of attaining that object
is, in the view of natural reason, right. So that, if in any case a govern
ment does not effect its proper objects, it may not only be exchanged,
but exchanged by any means which will tend on the whole to the public
good. Resistance, — arms, — civil war, — every act is, in the view of
natural reason, lawful if it is useful. But although good government is
the right of the people, it is, nevertheless, not sufficient to release a sub
ject from the obligation of obedience, that a government adopts some
measures which he thinks are not conducive to the general good. A
wise pagan would not limit his obedience to those measures in which a
government acted expediently ; because it is often better for the commu
nity that some acts of misgovernment should be borne, than that the
general system of obedience should be violated. It is, as a general rule,
more necessary to the welfare of a people that governments should be
regularly obeyed, than that each of their measures should be good and
right. In practice, therefore, even considerations of utility are sufficient,
generally, to oblige us to submit to the civil power.
When we turn from the law of nature to Christianity, we find, as we
are wont, that the moral cord is tightened, and that not every means of
opposing governments for the public good is permitted to us. The con
sideration of what modes of opposition Christianity allows, and what it
forbids, is of great interest and importance.
" Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no
power but of God : the powers that be are ordained of God. Whoso
ever, therefore, resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God. For
rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the evil. — He is the minister
of God to thee for good, — a revenger, to execute wrath upon him that
doeth evil. Wherefore ye must needs be subject, not only for wrath, but
also for conscience' sake."* — Upon this often-cited and often-canvassed
passage, three things are to be observed : —
* Rom. xiii. 1-5.
254 EXTENT OF THE DUTY OF OBEDIENCE. [ESSAY III
1. That it asserts the general duty of civil obedience because govern
ment is an institution sanctioned by the Deity.
2. That it asserts this duty under the supposition that the governor is a
minister of God for good.
3. That it gives but little other information respecting the extent of the
duty of obedience.
I. The obligation to obedience is not founded, therefore, simply upon
expediency, but upon the more satisfactory and certain ground, — the ex
pressed will of God. And here the superiority of this motive over that
of fear of the magistrate's power is manifest. We are to be subject,
not only for wrath, but for conscience' sake, — not only out of fear of
man, but out of fidelity to God. This motive, where it operates, is
likely, as was observed in the first essay, to produce much more con
sistent and conscientious obedience than that of expediency or fear.
II. The duty is inculcated under the supposition that the governor is
a minister for good. It is upon this supposition that the apostle pro
ceeds : " For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the evil ;"
which is tantamount to saying, that if they be not a terror to evil works
but to good, the duty of obedience is altered. " The power that is of
God" says an intelligent and Christian writer, leaves neither ruler nor
subject to the liberty of his own will, but limits both to the will of God ;
so that the magistrate hath no power to command evil to be done because
he is a magistrate, and the subject hath no liberty to do evil because a
magistrate doth command it."* When, therefore, the Christian teacher
says, ** Let every soul be subject to the higher powers," he proposes not
an absolute but a conditional rule, — conditional upon the nature of the
actions which the higher powers require. The expression, " There is
no power but of God," does not invalidate this conclusion, because the
apostles themselves did not yield unconditional obedience to the powers
that were. Similar observations apply to the parallel passage in 1st
Peter : — " Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man for the Lord's
sake ; whether it be to the king as supreme, or unto governors as unto
them that are sent by him, for the punishment oj evil-doers, and for the
praise of them that do well." The supposition of the^w^ exercise of power
is still kept in view.
III. The precepts give little other information than this respecting the
extent of the duty of obedience. " Whosoever resisteth the power
resisteth the ordinance of God," is, like the direction to " be subject," a
conditional proposition. What precise meaning was here attached to
the word " resisteth" cannot, perhaps, be known ; but there is reason to
think that the meaning was not designed to be precise, — that the proposi
tion was general. " Magistrates are not to be resisted," — without defin
ing, or attempting to define, the limits of civil obedience.
Upon the whole, this often-agitated portion of the Christian Scriptures
does not appear to me to convey much information respecting the duties
of civil obedience ; and although it explicitly asserts the general duty
of obedience to the magistrate, it does not inform us how far that duty
extends, nor what are its limits. To say this, however, is a very dif
ferent thing from saying, with Dr. Paley, that " As to the extent of our
civil rights and obligations, Christianity hath left its where she found us;
that she hath neither altered nor ascertained it; that the New Testament
Crisp • " To the Rulers and Inhabitants in Holland, &c." Abt, Ann. 1670
CHAP. 5.] RESISTANCE TO THE CIVIL POWER. 255
contains not one passage which, fairly interpreted, affords either argu
ment or objection applicable to any conclusions upon the subject that are
deduced from the law and religion of nature."* Although the 13th chap
ter to the Romans may contain no such passage, yet I think it can be
shown that the New Testament does. Indeed, it would be a strange
thing if the Christian Scriptures, containing, as they do, manifold precepts
for the regulation of human conduct, manifold precepts of which the ap
plication is very wide, not to say universal, — it would, I say, be a strange
thing if none of these precepts threw any light upon duties of such wide
embrace as those of citizens in relation to governors.
The error (assuming that there is an error) in the statement of Dr.
Paley results, probably, from the supposition, that because no passage,
specifically directed to civil obedience, contained the rules in question,
therefore no rules were to be found in the volume. This is an error of
every day. There are numberless questions of duty which Christianity
decides, yet respecting which, specifically, not a word is to be found in
the New Testament. These questions are decided by general princi
ples, which principles are distinctly laid down. These three words,
** Love your enemies," are of greater practical application in the affairs
of life than twenty propositions which define exact duties in specific
cases. It is for these exact definitions that men accustom themselves
to seek ; and when they are not to be found, conclude that Christianity
gives no directions upon the subject.
Thus it has happened with the question of civil obedience. Now, in
considering the general principles of Christianity, I think very satisfac
tory knowledge may be deduced respecting resistance to the civil power.
Those precepts to forbearance, to gentleness, to love, to mildness, which
are iterated as the essence of the Christian morality, apply, surely, to
the question of resistance. Surely there may be some degrees and kinds
of resistance which, being incompatible with the observance of these
principles, Christianity distinctly forbids. If indeed the reader has given
assent to our reasonings respecting self-defence (especially if he shall
give his assent to the reasonings on war), he will readily admit that
Christianity forbids an armed resistance to the civil power. Let me be
distinctly understood. It forbids this armed resistance, not in as much
as it is directed to the civil power, but in as much as such violence to
any power is incompatible with the purity of the Christian character.
Concluding, then, that specific rules respecting the extent of civil obe
dience are not to be found in Scripture, we are brought to the position,
that we must ascertain this extent by the general duties which Chris
tianity imposes upon mankind, and by the general principles of political
truth. In attempting, upon these grounds, to illustrate our civil duties, I
am solicitous to remark, that the individual Christian who, regarding
himself as a journeyer to a better country, thinks it best for him not to
meddle in political affairs, may rightly pursue a path of simpler submis
sion and acquiescence than that which I believe Christianity allows.
Whatever may be the peculiar business of individuals, the business of
man is to act as the Christian citizen, — not merely to prepare himself
for another world, but to do such good as he may, political as well as
social, in the present. And yet, so fundamentally, so utterly incongruous
with Christian rectitude, is the state of many branches of political affairs
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 4.
256 OBEDIENCE MAY BE WITHDRAWN. [EssA* III.
in the present day, that I know not whether he who is solicitous to ad
here to this rectitude is not both wise and right in standing aloof. This
consideration applies, especially, to circumstances in which the limits of
civil obedience are brought into practical illustrations. The tumult and
violence which ordinarily attend any approach to political revolutions are
such, that the best and proper office of a good man may be rather that of
a moderator of both parties than of a partisan with either. — Neverthe
less, it is fit that the obligations of civil obedience should be distinctly
understood.
Referring then to political truth, it is to be remembered that governors
are established, not for their own advantage, but for the people's. If
they so far disregard this object of their establishment, as greatly to
sacrifice the public welfare, the people (and consequently individuals)
may rightly consider whether a change of governors is not dictated by
utility ; and if it is, they may rightly endeavour to effect such a change
by recommending it to the public, and by transferring their obedience to
those who, there is reason to believe, will better execute the offices for
which government is instituted. I perceive nothing unchristian in this.
A man who lived in 1688, and was convinced that it was for the general
good that William should be placed on the throne instead of James, was
at liberty to promote, by all Christian means, the accession of William,
and consequently to withdraw his own, and to recommend others to
withdraw their obedience from James. The support of the Bill of
Exclusion in Charles the Second's reign was nearly allied to a with
drawing of civil obedience. The Christian of that day who was per
suaded that the bill would tend to the public welfare was right in
supporting it, and he would have been equally right in continuing his
support if Charles had suddenly died, and his brother had suddenly
stepped into the throne. If I had lived in America fifty years ago,
and had thought the disobedience of the colonies wrong, and that the
whole empire would be injured by their separation from England,
I should have thought myself at liberty to urge these considerations
upon other men, and otherwise to exert myself (always within the
limits of Christian conduct) to support the British cause. I might,
indeed, have thought that there was so much violence and wickedness
on both sides, that the Christian could take part with neither ; but this
is an accidental connexion, and in no degree affects the principle
itself. But, when the colonies were actually separated from Britain,
and it was manifestly the general Mrill to be independent, I should have
readily transferred my obedience to the United States, convinced that
the new government was preferred by the people ; that therefore it was
the rightful government ; and, being such, that it was my Christian duty
to obey it.
Now the lawful means of discouraging or promoting an alteration of
a government must be determined by the general duties of Christian
morality. There is, as we have seen, nothing in political affairs which
conveys a privilege to throw off the Christian character ; and whatever
species of opposition or support involves a sacrifice or suspension of
this character, is, for that reason, wrong. Clamorous and vehement
debatings and harangues, — vituperation and calumny, — acts of bloodshed
and violence, or instigations to such acts, are, I think, measures in which
the first teachers of Christianity would not have participated ; measures
which would have violated their own precepts ; and measures, therefore,
CHAP. 5.] ENGLAND AND AMERICA. 257
which a Christian is not at liberty to pursue. Objections to these senti
ments will no doubt be at hand : we shall be told that such opposition
would be ineffectual against the encroachments of power and the armies
of tyranny, — that it would be to no purpose to reason with a general who
had orders to enforce obedience ; and that the nature of the power to be
overcome dictated the necessity of corresponding power to overcome it.
To all which it is, in the first place, a sufficient answer, that the question
is not what evils may ensue from an adherence to Christianity, but what
Christianity requires. We renew the oft-repeated truth, that Christian
rectitude is paramount. When the first Christians refused obedience to
some of the existing authorities, — they did not resist. They exemplified
their own precepts, — to prefer the will of God before all ; and if this
preference subjected them to evils, to bear them without violating other
portions of His will in order to ward them off. But if resistance to the
civil power was thus unlawful when the magistrate commanded actions
that were morally wrong, much more clearly is it unlawful when the
wrongness consists only in political grievances. The inconveniences
of bad governments cannot constitute a superior reason for violence, to
that which is constituted by the imposition of laws that are contrary to
the laws of God. And if any one should insist upon the magnitude of
political grievances, the answer is at hand, — these evils cannot cost more
to the community as a state, than the other class of evils costs to the in
dividual as a man. If fidelity is required in private life, through what
ever consequences, it is required also in public. The national suffering
can never be so great as the individual may be. The individual may
lose his life for his fidelity, but there is no such thing as a national mar
tyrdom. Besides, it is by no means certain that Christian opposition to
misgovernment would be so ineffectual as is supposed. Nothing is so
invincible as determinate non-compliance. He that resists by force may
be overcome by greater force ; but nothing can overcome a calm and
fixed determination not to obey. Violence might, no doubt, slaughter
those who practised it, but it were an unusual ferocity to destroy such
persons in cool malignity. In such inquiries we forget how much diffi
culty we entail upon ourselves. A regiment which, after endeavouring
to the uttermost to destroy its enemies, refuses to yield, is in circum
stances totally dissimilar to that which our reasonings suppose. Such a
regiment might be cut to pieces ; but it would be, I believe, a "new thing
tinder the sun," to go en slaughtering a people of whom it was known not
only that they had committed no violence, but that they would commit
none.
Refer, again, to America. — The Americans thought that it was best
for the general welfare that they should be independent ; but England
persisted in imposing a tax. Imagine, then, America to have acted upon
Christian principles, and to have refused to'pay it, but without those acts
of exasperation and violence which they 'committed. England might
have sent a fleet and an army. To what purpose ? Still no one paid
the tax. The soldiery perhaps sometimes committed outrages, and they
seized goods instead of the impost ; still the tax could not be collected,
except by a system of universal distraint. — Does any man, who employs
his reason, believe that England would have overcome such a people ?
does he believe that any government or any army would have gone on
destroying them? especially does he believe this, if the Americans con
tinually reasoned coolly and honourably with the other party, and mani-
R
258 INTERFERENCE OF THE MAGISTRATE. [ESSAY III.
fested, by the unequivocal language' of conduct, that they were actuated by
reason and by Christian rectitude ? No nation exists which would go on
slaughtering such a people. It is not in human nature to do such things ;
and I am persuaded not only that American independence would have
been secured, but that very far fewer of the Americans would have been
destroyed, — that very much less of devastation and misery would have
been occasioned, if they had acted upon these principles instead of upon
the vulgar system of exasperation and violence. In a word, they would
have attained the same advantage, with more virtue, and at less cost. —
With respect to those voluble reasoners who tell us of meanness of spirit,
of pusillanimous submission, of base crouching before tyranny, and the
like, it may be observed that they do not know what mental greatness is.
Courage is not indicated most unequivocally by wearing swords or by
wielding them. Many who have courage enough to take up arms against a
bad government have not courage enough to resist it by the unbending
firmness of the mind, — to maintain a tranquil fidelity to virtue in opposi
tion to power ; or to endure, with serenity, the consequences which may
follow.
1 The Reformation prospered more by the resolute non-compliance of
its supporters, than if all of them had provided themselves with swords
and pistols. The most severely persecuted body of Christians which
this country has in later ages seen, was a body who never raised the
arm of resistance. They wore out that iron rod of oppression which the
attrition of violence might have whetted into a weapon that would have
cut them off from the earth ; and they now reap the fair fruit of their
principles in the enjoyment of privileges from which others are still
debarred.
There is one class of cases in which obedience is to be refused to the
civil power without any view to an alteration of existing institutions, —
that is, when the magistrate commands that which it would be immoral
to obey. What is wrong for the Christian is wrong for the subject.
" All human authority ceases at the point where obedience becomes crim
inal." Of this point of criminality every man must judge, ultimately,
for himself; for the opinions of another ought not to make him obey
when he thinks it is criminal, nor to refuse obedience when he thinks it
is lawful. Some even appear to think that the nature of actions is altered
by the command of the state, — that what would be unlawful \vithout its
command is lawful with it. This notion is founded upon indistinct views
of the extent of civil authority ; for this authority can never be so great
as that of the Deity ; and it is the Deity who requires us not to do evil.
The Protestant would not think himself obliged to obey, if the state
should require him to acknowledge the authority of the pope. And why ?
Uecause he thinks it would be inconsistent with the Divine will : and
this, precisely, is the reason why he should refuse obedience in other
cases. He cannot rationally make distinctions, and say, " I ought to
refuse obedience in acknowledging the pope, but I ought to obey in becom
ing the agent of injustice or oppression." — If I had been a Frenchman,
and had been ordered, probably at the instigation of some courtesan, to
immure a man whom I knew to be innocent in the Bastile, I should have
refused ; for it never can be right to be the active agent of such iniquity.
Under an enlightened and lenient government like our own, the cases
are not numerous in which the Christian is exempted from the obligation
to obedience. When, a century or two ago, persecuting acts were passed
Ciur. 5.] OATHS OF ALLEGIANCE TO GOVERNORS. 259
against some Christian communities, the members of these communities
were not merely at liberty, they were required, to disobey them. One
act imposed a fine of twenty pounds a month for absenting one's self
from a prescribed form of worship. He who thought that form less
acceptable to the Supreme Being than another ought to absent himself not
withstanding the law. So, when, in the present day, a Christian thinks
the profession of arms, or the payment of preachers whom he disapproves,
is wrong, he ought, notwithstanding any laws, to decline to pay the money
or to bear the arms.
Illegal commands do not appear to carry any obligation to obedience.
Thus, when the apostles had been "beaten openly and uncondemned,
being Romans," they did not regard the directions of the magistracy to
leave the prison, but asserted their right to legal justice by making the
magistrates " come themselves and fetch them out." When Charles I.
made his demands of supplies upon his own illegal authority, I should
have thought myself at liberty to refuse to pay them. This were not a
disobedience to government. Government was broken. One of its con
stituent parts refused to impose the tax, and one imposed it. I might,
indeed, have held myself in doubt whether Charles constituted the
government or not. If the people had thought it best to choose him
alone for their ruler, he constituted the government, and his demand
would have been legal, — for a law is but the voice of that governing power
whom the people prefer. As it was, the people did not choose such a
government : the demand was illegal, and might therefore be refused.
Promises or oaths of allegiance to governors do not appear easuy
reeoncileable with political reason. Promises are made for the advantage
or security of the imposer ; and to make them to governors seems an
inversion of the order which just principles would prescribe. The
security should be given by the employed party, not by the employer. A
community should not be bound to obey any given officer whom they
employ ; because they may find occasion to exchange him for another.
Men do not swear fidelity to their representatives in a senate. — Prom
ising fidelity to the state may appear exempt from these objections, but
the. promise is likely to be of little avail : for what is the state ? or .low
is its will to be discovered but by the voice of the governing power ? To
promise fidelity to the state is not very different from promising it to a
governor.
If it be said that promises of allegiance may be useful in periods of
confusion, or when the public mind is divided respecting the choice of
governors, — such a period is peculiarly unfit for promising allegiance to
one. The greater the instability of an existing government, the greater
the unreasonableness of exacting an oath. If an oath should maintain a
tottering government against the public mind, it does mischief ; and if a
government is secure, an oath is not needed.
The sequestered ministers in the time of Charles II. were required to
take an oath, " declaring that they would not at any time endeavour an
alteration in the government of the church or state."* One reason of
their ejection was, that they would not declare their assent to every thing
* Southey's Book of the Church.
R2
260 FORMS OF GOVERNMENT. [ESSAY III.
in the Book of Common Prayer. Why should these persons be required
to promise not to endeavour an alteration in church government, when,
probably, some of them thought the endeavour formed apart of their Chris
tian duty ? Upon similar grounds, it may be doubted whether the Ro
man Catholics of our day ought to declare, as they do, that they will not
endeavour any alteration in the religious establishments of the country.
To promise this without limitation is surely promising more than a per
son who disapproves that establishment ought to promise. The very
essence of peculiar religious systems tends to the alteration of all others.
He who preaches the Romish creed and practice does practically oppose
the Church of England, and practically endeavour an alteration in it.
And if a man thinks his own system the b«st, he ought, by Christian
means, to endeavour to extend it.
And even if these declarations were less objectionable in principle,
their practical operation is bad. Some invasion or revolution places a
new prince upon the throne, — that very prince, perhaps, whom the peo
ple's oath of allegiance was expressly designed to exclude. What are
such a people to do 1 Are they to refuse obedience to the ruler whom,
perhaps, there are the best of reasons for obeying ? Or are tney to keep
their oaths sacred, and thus injure the general weal ? Such alternatives
ought not to be imposed. But the truth is, that allegiance is commonly
adjusted to a standard very distinct from the meaning of oaths. How
many revolutions have oaths of allegiance prevented ? In general a peo
ple will obey the power whom they prefer, whatever oaths may have
bound them to another. In France, all men were required to swear
" that they would be faithful to the nation, the law, and the king." A
year after these same Frenchmen swore an everlasting abjuration of mon
archy ! And now they are living quietly under a monarchy again ! After
the accession of William III. when the clergy were required to tadce
oaths contrary to those which they had before taken to James, very few
in comparison refused. The rest " took them with such reservations
and distinctions as redounded very little to the honour of their integrity,"*
Thus it is that these oaths, which are objectionable in principle, are so
nugatory in practice. The mischief is radical. Men ought not to be
required to engage to maintain, at a future period, a set of opinions which,
at a future period, they may probably think erroneous ; nor to maintain
allegiance to any set of men whom, hereafter, they may perhaps find it
expedient to replace by others.
CHAPTER VI.
FORMS OF GOVERNMENT.
THERE is one great cause which prevents the political moralist from
describing, absolutely, what form of government is preferable to all
others, — which is, that the superiority of a form depends, like the proper
degree of civil liberty, upon the existing condition of a community.
Other doctrine has indeed been held : " Wherever men are competent to
Smollett's History of England.
CHAP. 6.] GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 261
look the first duties of humanity in the face, and to provide for their
defence against the invasions of hunger and the inclemencies of the sky,
there they will, out of all doubt, be found equally capable of every other
exertion that may be necessary to their security and welfare. Present
to them a constitution which shall put them into a simple and intelligible
method of directing their own affairs, adjudging their contests among
themselves, and cherishing in their bosoms a manly sense of dignity,
equality, and independence, and you need not doubt that prosperity and
virtue will be the result."*
There is need to doubt and to disbelieve it, — unless it can be shown
from experience that uncultivated and vicious men require nothing more
to make them wise and good than to be told the way. " Present to them
a constitution." Who shall present it? Some foreign intelligence, mani
festly ; and if this foreign intelligence is necessary to devise a constitu
tion, it will be necessary, to keep it in operation and in order. But
when this is granted, it is in effect granted that an uncultivated and
vicious people are not " capable of every exertion that may be necessary
to their security and welfare."
But if certain forms cannot be specified which shall be best for the
adoption of every state, there are general principles to direct us.
It is manifest that the form of government, like the administration of
power, should be conformable to the public wish. In a certain sense, and in
a sense of no trifling import, that form is best for a people which the people
themselves prefer : and this rule applies, even although the form may not be
intrinsically the best ; for public welfare and satisfaction are the objects
of government, and this satisfaction may sometimes be ensured by a form
which the public prefer, more effectually than by a form essentially better
which they dislike. Besides, a nation is likely to prefer that form which
accords best with what is called the national genius ; and thus there may
be a real adaptation of a form to a people which is yet not abstractedly
the best, nor the best for their neighbours. But when it is said that that
form of government ought to be adopted for a people which they them
selves prefer, it is not to be forgotten that their preference is often founded
upon their weaknesses or their ignorance. Men adhere to an established
form because they think little of a better. Long prescription gives to
even bad systems an obscure sanctity among unthinking men. No rea
sonable man can suppose that the government of Louis the Fourteenth
was good for the French people, or that that form could be good which
enabled him to trifle with or to injure the public welfare. And yet, when
his ambition and tyranny had reduced the French to poverty and to
wretchedness, they still clung to their oppressor, and made wonderful
sacrifices to support his power. — Now, though it might have been both
improper and unjust to give a new constitution to the French when they
preferred the old, yet such examples indicate the sense in which only it
is true that the form which a people prefer is the best for them ; and
they indicate, too, most powerfully, the duty of every citizen and of every
legislator to diffuse just notions of political truth. The nature of a
government contributes powerfully no doubt to the formation of this
national genius ; and thus an imperfect form sometimes contributes to its
own duration.
In the present condition of mankind, it is probable that some species
* Godwin's Enq.Pol. Just. vol. i., p. 69.
262 MONARCHY. [ESSAY III.
of monarchy is best for the greater part of the world. Republicanism
opens more wide the gates of ambition. He who knows that the utmost
extent of attainable power is to be the servant of a prince is not likely
to be fired by those boundless schemes of ambition which may animate
the republican leader. The virtue of the generality of mankind is not
sufficiently powerful to prompt them to political moderation without the
application of an external curb ; and thus it happens that the order and
stability of a government is more efficiently secured by the indisputable
supremacy of one man. Now, order and stability are among the first requi
sites of a good constitution, for the objects of political institutions cannot
be secured without them.
I accept the word monarchy in a large sense. It is not necessary to
the security of these advantages, even in the existing state of human
virtue, that the monarch should possess what we call kingly power. By
monarchy I mean a form of government in which one man is invested
with power greatly surpassing that of every other. The peculiar means
by which this power is possessed do not enter necessarily into the
account. The individual .may have the power of a sultan, or a czar, or
a king, or a president : that is, he may possess various degrees of power,
and yet the essential principle of monarchy and its practical tendencies
may be the same in all, — the same to repress violence by extent of
power, the same to discountenance ambition by the hopelessness of grati
fying unlimited desire.
It is usual to insist, as one of the advantages of monarchy, upon its
secrecy and despatch : which secrecy and despatch, it is to be observed,
would be of comparatively little importance in a more advanced state of
human virtue. Where diplomatic chicanery and hostile exertions are
employed, despatch and secrecy are doubtless very subservient to success ;
but take away the hostility and chicanery, — take away, that is, such
wickedness from among men, and secrecy and despatch would be of little
interest or importance. We love darkness rather than light, because our
deeds are evil Thus it is that unnumbered usages and institutions find
advocacy, rather in the immoral condition of mankind than in the direct
evidences of their excellence.
" An hereditary monarchy is universally to be preferred to an elective
monarchy. The confession of every writer on the subject of civil
government, the experience of ages, the example of Poland and of the
papal dominions, seem to place this among the few indubitable maxims
which the science of politics admits of."* But, without attempting to
decide upon the preferableness of hereditary or elective monarchy, it
may be questioned whether this formidable array of opinion has not been
founded upon the mischiefs which actually have resulted from electing
princes, rather than from those which are inseparable from the election.
The election of the kings of Poland convulsed that unhappy country,
and sometimes embroiled Europe. The election of popes has produced
similar effects ; but this is no evidence that popes and kings cannot be
elected by pacific means : cardinals and lords may embroil a nation,
when other electors would not.
I call the President of the United States a monarch. He is not called,
indeed, an emperor, or a king, or a duke, but he exercises much of regal
power. Yet he is elected; and where is the mischief ? The United
* Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3, b. 6, c. 6.
CHAP. 6.] BALANCE OF INTERESTS AND PASSIONS. 263
States are not convulsed : civil war is not waged : foreign princes do not
support with armies the pretensions of one candidate or another : — and
yet he is elected. Who then will say that other monarchs might not be
elected too? It will not be easy to show that the being invested with
greater power than the President of America necessarily precludes the
peaceable election of a prince. The power of the President differs, I
believe, less from that of the King of England, than the power of the
king differs from that of the Russian emperor. No man can define the
maximum of power which might be conferred without public mischief by
the election of the public. Yet I am attempting to elucidate a political
truth, and not recommending a practice. It is, indeed, possible, that
when the genius of a people and the whole mass of their political institu
tions are favourable to an election of the supreme magistrate, election
would be preferable to hereditary succession. But election is not with'
out its disadvantages, especially if the appointment be for a short time.
When there are several candidates, and when the inclinations of the
community are consequently divided, he who actually assumes the reins
is the sovereign of the choice of only a portion of the people. The
rest prefer another : which circumstance is not only likely to animate
the hostilities of faction, but to make the elected party regard one por
tion of the people as his enemies and the other as his friends. But he
should be the parent of all the people.
Fox observed, with respect to the British constitution, that " the safety
of the whole depends on the jealousy which each retains against the
others, not on the patriotism of any one branch of the legislature."* This
is doubtless true ; yet surely it is a melancholy truth. It is a melancholy
consideration that, in constructing a constitution, it is found necessary,
not to encourage virtue, but to repress vice, and to contrive mutual curbs
upon ambition and licentiousness. It is a tacit, but a most emphaticai
acknowledgment, how much private inclination triumphs over public
virtue, and how little legislators are disposed to keep in the right political
path, unless they are restrained from deviation by walls and spikes.
Yet it is upon this lamentable acknowledgment that the great institu
tions of free states are frequently founded. A balance of interests and
passions is contrived, something'like the balance of power of which we
liear so much among the nations of Europe, — a balance of which the
necessity (if it be necessary) consists in the wickedness, the ambition,
and the violence of mankind. If nations did not viciously desire to
encroach upon one another, this balance of power would be forgotten ;
and in a purer state of human virtue, the jealousies of the different
branches of a legislature will not need to be balanced against each other.
Until the period of this advanced state of human excellence shall arrive,
I know not how this balance can be dispensed with. It may still be
needful to oppose power to power, to restrain one class of interests by
the counteraction of others, and to procure general quiet to the whole by
annexing inevitable evils to the encroachments of the separate parts.
Thus, again, it happens that constitutions which are not abstractedly the
best, or even good, may be the best for a nation now.
Whatever be the form of a government, one quality appears to be
essential to practical excellence, — that it should be susceptible of peace
able change. The science of government, like other sciences, acquires
* Speech on the Regency Question.
264 CHANGES IN A CONSTITUTION. [ESSAY III.
a constant accession of light. The intellectual condition of the world is
advancing with onward strides. And both these considerations intimate
that forms of government should be capable of admitting, without disturb
ance, those improvements which experience may dictate or the advancing
condition of a community may require. To reject improvement is absurd :
to incapacitate ourselves for adopting it is absurd also. It surely is no
unreasonable sacrifice of vanity to admit, that those who succeed us may
be better judges of what is good for themselves than we can be for them.
Upon these grounds, no constitution should be regarded as absolutely
and sacredly fixed, so that none ought and none have a right to alter it.
The question of right is easily settled. It is inherent in the community,
or in the legislature as their agents. It would be strange, indeed, if our
predecessors five or six centuries ago had a right to make a constitution
for us, which we have no right to alter for ourselves. Such checks ought,
no doubt, to be opposed to alterations, that they may not be lightly and
crudely made. The exercise of political wisdom is to discover that
point in which sufficient obstacles are opposed to hasty innovation, and
in which sufficient facility is afforded for real improvement by virtuous
means. The common disquisitions about the value of stability in govern
ments, like those about the sacredness of forms, are frequently founded
in inaccurate views. What confusion, it is exclaimed, and what anarchy
and commotions would follow, if we were at liberty continually to alter
political constitutions ! But it is forgotten that these calamities result
from the circumstance that constitutions are not made easily alterable.
The interests which so many have in keeping up the present state of
things make them struggle against an alteration ; and it is this struggle
which induces the calamities, rather than any thing necessarily incidental
to the alteration itself. Take away these interests, take away the motives
to these struggles, and improvements may be peacefully made. Yet it
must be acknowledged that to take away these interests is no light task.
We must once again refer to " the present condition of mankind," and
confess that it may be doubted whether any community would possess a
stable or an efficient government, if no interests bound its officers to
exertion. To such a government patronage is probably at present indis
pensable. They who possess patronage, and they who are enriched or
exalted by its exercise, array themselves against those propositions of
change which would diminish their eminence or their wealth. And I
perceive no means by which the existence of these interests and their
consequent operation can be avoided, except by that elevation of the
moral character of our race which would bring with it adequate motives
to serve the public without regard to honours or rewards. — -It is however
indisputably true, that these interests should be as much as is practicable
diminished ; arid in whatever degree this is effected, in the same degree
there will be a willingness to admit those improvements in the form of
governments which prudence and wisdom may prescribe.
" Let no new practice in politics be introduced, and no old one anxiously
superseded, till called for by the public voice."* The same advice may
be given respecting the alteration of forms ; because alterati6ns which
are not so called for may probably fail of a good effect from the want
* Godwin : Pol. Just. v. ii. p. 593. This doctrine is adverse to that which is quoted in the
first page of this chapter, where to be able to provide for mere physical wants is stated to
be a sufficient qualification for the reception of an entirely new system of politics.
CHAP. 6.] POPULAR GOVERNMENT. 265
of a congenial temper in the people, — and because, as the public wish is
the natural measure of sound political institutions, even beneficial changes
ought not to be forced upon them against their own consent. The public
mind, however, should be enlightened by a government. The legislator
who perceives that another form of government is better for his country,
does not do all his duty if he declares himself willing to concur in the
alteration when the country desires it : he should create that desire by
showing its reasonableness. — Unhappily there is a vis inertias in govern
ments of which the tendency is opposite to this. The interests which
prompt men to maintain things as they are, and dread of innovation, and
sluggishness, and indifference, occasion governments to be among the
last portion of the community to diffuse knowledge respecting political
truth. But when the public mind has by any means become enlightened,
so that the public voice demands an alteration of an existing form, it is
one of the plainest as well as one of the greatest duties of a government
to make the alteration : not reluctantly but joyfully, not urging the pre
scription of ages, and what is called " the wisdom of our ancestors," but
philosophically, yet soberly, accommodating present institutions to the
present state of mankind.
If, then, it is asked by what general rule forms of government should
be regulated, I would say, — Accommodate the form to the opinion of the
community, whatever that community may prefer : and, adopt institutions
such as will facilitate the peaceable admission of alterations as greater
light and knowledge become diffused. I would not say to the sultan,
Adopt the constitution of England to-morrow ; because the sudden tran
sition would probably effect, for a long time, more evil than good. I
would not say to the King of France, Descend from the throne and
establish a democracy ; because I do not think, and experience does
not teach us to think, that democracy, even if it were theoretically best,
is best for France at the present day.
Turning, indeed, to the probable future condition of the world, there is
reason to think that the popular branches of all governments will pro
gressively increase in influence, and perhaps eventually predominate.
This appears to be the natural consequence of the increasing power of
public opinion. The public judgment is not only the proper, but almost
the necessary, eventual measure of political institutions ; and it appears evi
dent that as that judgment becomes enlightened, it will be exercised, and
that, as it is exercised, it will prevail. The expression of public opinion
upon political affairs, and consequently the influence of that opinion,
partakes obviously of the principles of popular government. If public
opinion governs, it must govern by some agency by which public opinion
is expressed ; and this expression can in no way so naturally be effected
as by some modification of popular authority. These considerations,
which appear obvious to reasoning, are enforced by experience. There
is a manifest tendency in the world to the increase of the power of the
public voice; and the effect is seen in the new constitutions which have
been established in the New World and in the Old. Few permanent re
volutions are effected in which the community do not acquire additional
influence in governing themselves.
It will not perhaps be disputed, that if the world were wise and good,
the best form of government would be that of democracy in a very simple
state. Nothing would be wanting but to ascertain the general wish and
to collect the general wisdom. If, therefore, the present propriety of
266 CHARACTER OF LEGISLATORS. [ESSAY III.
other forms of government results from the present condition of mankind,
there is reason to suppose that they may gradually lapse away, as that
condition, moral and intellectual, is improved. Whether mankind are
thus improving readers may differently decide ; and their various de
cisions will lead to various conclusions respecting the future pre
dominance of the public voice : the writer of these pages is one who
thinks that the world is improving, that virtue as well as knowledge is
extending its power ; and therefore that, as ages roll along, every form
of government but that which consists in some organ of the general mind
will gradually pass away. It may be hoped, too, that this gradual lapse
will be occasioned, without solicitude on the part of those who then
possess privileges or power, to retain either to themselves. That same
state of virtue and excellence which enabled the people almost imme
diately to govern themselves would prevent others from wishing to retain
the reins. Purer motives than the love of greatness, of power, or of wealth
would influence them in the choice of their political conduct. They
might have no motive so powerful as the promotion of the general weal,
As no limit can be assigned to that degree of excellence which it may
please the Universal Parent eventually to diffuse through the world, — so
none can be assigned to the simplicity and purity of the form in which
government shall be carried on. In truth, the mind, as it passes onward
and still onward in its anticipations of purity, stops not until it arrives av,
that period when all government shall cease ; when there shall be no
wickedness to require the repressing arm of power ; when terror to the
evil-doers and praise to them that do well, shall no longer be needed,
because none will do evil though there be no ruler to punish, and all will
do well from higher and better motives than the praise of man.
In speaking of political constitutions, it is not sufficiently remembered
in how great a degree good government depends upon the character and
the virtue of those who shall conduct it. There is much of truth in the
political maxim that " whatever is best administered is best." But how
shall good administration be secured except by the good dispositions of
the administrators? The great present concern of mankind, in the
selection of their legislators, respects their political opinions rather than
their moral and Christian character. This exclusive reference to political
biases is surely unwise — because it leaves the passions and interests to
operate without that control which individual virtue only can impart.
Thus we are obliged to contrive reins and curbs for the public servants,
as the charioteer contrives them for an unruly horse ; too much forgetting
that the best means of securing the safety of the vehicle of state are
found in the good dispositions of those who move it onward. Political
tendencies are important, but they are not the most important point: moral
tendencies are the first and the greatest. The question in England
should be, less, " ministerialist or oppositionist?" in America, less,
" federalist or republican ?" than in both, " a good or a bad man ?"
Rectitude of intention is the primary requisite ; and whatever preference
I might give to superiority of talents and to political principles, above all,
and before all, I should prefer the enlightened Christian : knowing that
his character is the best pledge of political uprightness, and that political
uprightness is the best security of good government.
CHAP. 7.] POLITICAL INFLUENCE. 2r>7
CHAPTER VII.
POLITICAL INFLUENCE PARTY MINISTERIAL UNION.
THE system of governing by influence appears to be a substitute for
the government of force, — an intermediate step between awing by the
sword and directing by reason and virtue. When the general character
of political measures is such that reason and virtue do not sufficiently
support them to recommend them, on their own merits, to the public
approbation, — these measures must be rejected, or they must be sup
ported by foreign means : and when, by the political institutions of a
people, force is necessarily excluded, nothing remains but to have recourse
to some species of influence. There is another ground upon which influ
ence becomes, in a certain sense, necessary, — which is, that there is so
much imperfection of virtue in the majority of legislators, — they are so
much guided by interested, or ambitious, or party motives, that, for a
measure to be recommended by its own excellence is sometimes not
sufficient to procure their concurrence ; and thus it happens that influ
ence is resorted to, not merely because public measures are deficient in
purity, but because there is a deficiency of uprightness in public men.
While political affairs continue to be conducted on their present, or
nearly on their present, principles, I believe influence is necessary to the
stability of almost all governments. How else shall they be supported ?
They are not sufficiently virtuous to bespeak the general and unbiased
support of the nations; and without support of some kind, they must fall.
That which Hume says of England is perhaps true of all civilized
states : " The influence which the crown acquires from the disposal of
places, honours, and preferments may become too forcible, but it cannot
altogether be abolished without the total destruction of monarchy, and
even of all regular authority.1"* A mournful truth it is ! because it neces
sarily implies one of two things— either that the acts of " authority" do
not recommend themselves by their own excellences, or that subjects
are too little principled to be influenced by such excellences alone.
While the generality of subjects continue to be what they are, influ
ence is inseparable from the privilege of appointing to offices. With
whomsoever that privilege is intrusted, he will possess influence, and
consequently power. Multitudes are hoping for the gifts which he has
to bestow ; and they accommodate their conduct to his wishes, in order
to propitiate his favour and to obtain the reward. When they have
obtained it, they call themselves bound in gratitude to continue their
deference ; and thus the influence and the power is continually possessed.
Now there is no way of destroying this influence but by making men
good: for until they are good, they will continue to sacrifice their judg
ments to their interests, and support men or measures, not because they
are right, but because the support is attended with reward. It matters
little in morals by whom the power of bestowing offices is possessed,
* History of England.
268 POLITICAL INFLUENCE. [ESSAY III.
unless you can ensure the virtue of the bestower. Politicians may talk
of taking the power from crowns and vesting it in senates ; but it will be
of little avail to change the hands who distribute, if you cannot change
the hearts. If a man should ask whether the influence of the crown in
this country might not usefully be transferred to the House of Commons,
I should answer, No. Not merely because it would overthrow (for it
certainly would overthrow) the monarchy, but because I know not that
any security would be gained for a better employment of this influence
than is possessed already. In all but arbitrary governments it appears
indispensable that much of the privilege of appointing to offices should
rest with the executive power. It is the peculiar source of its authority.
In our own government, the peers possess power independently of their
political character, and the commons possess it as representatives of the
public mind ; but where, without influence, would be the power of the
king ? So it is in America. They have two representative bodies, and
a third estate in the office of their president. But that president could
not execute the functions of a third estate, nor the office of an executive
governor, without having the means of influencing the people. I do not
know whether it was with the determinate object of giving to the presi
dent a competent share of power that the Americans invested him with
the privilege of appointing to offices, but it is not to be questioned tnat
if they had not done it the fabric of their government would speedily
have fallen.
The degree of this influence, which may be required to give stability
to an executive body (and therefore to a constitution) will vary with the
character of its own policy. The more widely that policy deviates from
rectitude, the greater will be the demand for influence to induce concur
rence m its measures. The degree of influence that is actually exerted
by a government is therefore no despicable criterion of the excellence of
its practice. In the United States, the degree is less than in England ;
and it may therefore be feared that we are inferior to them in the purity
of the general administration of the affairs of state.
But let it be constantly borne in mind, that when we thus speak of the
"necessity" for influence to support governments, we speak only of
governments as they are, and of nations as they are. There is no neces
sity for influence to support good government over a good people. All
influence but that which addresses itself to the judgment is wrong, —
wrong in morals, and therefore indefensible upon whatever plea. Influ
ence is in part necessary to a government in the same sense as oppres
sion is necessary to a slave-trader, — not because the captain is a man,
but because he has taken up the trade in slaves: — not because the govern
ment is a government, but because it conducts so many political affairs
upon unchristian principles, or in an unchristian manner. The captain
says, I cannot secure my slaves without oppression : — Let them go free.
The government says, I cannot conduct my system without influence :
Make the system good.
And here arises the observation, that if a government should faithfully
act upon moral principles, that demand for influence which is occasioned
by the ill principles of senators or the public would be diminished or
done away. The opposition which governments are wont to experi
ence, — indefensible as that opposition frequently is, — is the result, prin
cipally, of the general character of political systems. Men, seeing that
integrity and purity are sacrificed by a government to other considera-
CHAP. 7.] INCONGRUITY OF PUBLIC NOTIONS. 269
tions, adopt kindred means of opposing it. If I reason with a man upon
the impropriety of his conduct, he will probably listen : if I use violence,
he will probably use violence in return. There is no reason to doubt,
that if political measures were more uniformly conformable with the
sober judgments of a community, respect and affection would soon become
so general and powerful, that that clamorous opposition which it is now
attempted to oppose by influence would be silenced by the public voice.
Besides, the very fact that influence is exercised animates opposition to
measures of state. The possession of power — that is, in a great degree,
of influence — is a tempting bait ; and it cannot be doubted that some
range themselves against an executive body, not so much from objections
to its measures as from desire of its power. Take away the influence,
therefore, and you take away one operative cause of opposition, — one
great obstacle to the free progress of the vessel of state.
"All influence but that which addresses itself to the judgment is
wrong" Of the moral offence which this influence implies, many are
guilty who oppose governments as well as those who support them, or
as governments themselves. It is evidently not a whit more virtuous to
exert influence in opposing governments than in supporting them : nor,
indeed, is it so virtuous. To what is a man influenced? Obviously, to
do that which, without the influence, he would not do ; — that is to say,
he is induced to violate his judgment at the request or at the will of other
men. It can need no argument to show that this is vicious. In truth, it
is vicious in a very high degree ; for to conform our conduct to our own
sober judgment is one of the first dictates of the moral law: and the
viciousness is so much the greater, because the express purpose for
which a man is appointed to legislate is that the community may have
the benefit of his uninfluenced judgment. Breach of trust is added to the
sacrifice of individual integrity. A nation can gain nothing by the know
ledge or experience of a million of " influenced" legislators. It is curious,
that the submission to influence which men often practise as legislators
they would abhor as judges. What should we say of a judge or a jury
man who accepted a place or a promise as a bribe for an unjust sentence ?
We should prosecute the juryman, and address the parliament for a
removal of the judge. Is it then of so much less consequence in what
manner affairs of state are conducted than the affairs of individuals, that
that which would be disgraceful in one case is reputable in another?
No account can be given of this strange incongruity of public notions,
than that custom has in one case blinded our eyes, and in the other has
taught us to see. Let the legislator who would abhor to accept a purse
to bribe him to write Ignoramus upon a true bill, apply the principle upon
which his abhorrence is founded to his political conduct. When our
moral principles are consistent, these incongruities will cease. When
uniform truth takes the place of vulgar practice and opinion, these incon
gruities will become wonderful for their absurdity; and men will scarcely
believe that their fathers, who could see so clearly, saw so ill. The same
sort of stigma which now attaches to Lord Bacon will attach to multi
tudes who pass for honourable persons in the present day.
A man may lawfully, no doubt, take a more active part in political
measures in compliance with the wishes of another than he might other
wise incline to do ; but to support the measures of an opposition or an
administration because they are their measures can never be lawful.
Nor can it ever be lawful to magnify the advantages or to expatiate upon
270 PATRONAGE— INFLUENCE. [EBSAY III
the mischiefs of a measure, beyond his secret estimate of its demerits or
its merits. That legislator is viciously influenced who says or who does
any thing which he would think it not proper to say or do if he were an
independent man.
But it will be said, Since influence is inseparable from the possession
of patronage, and since patronage must be vested somewhere, what is to
be done? or how are the evils of influence to be done away? — a ques
tion which, like many other questions in political morality, is attended
with accidental rather than essential difficulties. Patronage, in a virtuous
state of mankind, would be small. There would be none in the church,
and little in the state. Men would take the oversight of the Christian
flock, not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind. If the ready mind existed,
the influence of patronage would be needless ; and, as a needless thing,
it would be done away. And as to the state, when we consider how
much of patronage in all nations results from the vicious condition of
mankind, — especially for military and naval appointments, — it will appear
that much of this class of patronage is accidental also. Take away that
wickedness and violence in which hostile measures originate, and fleets
and armies would no longer be needed ; and with their dissolution there
would be a prodigious diminution of patronage and of influence. So, if
we continue the inquiry how far any given source of influence arising
from patronage is necessary to the institution of civil government, we shall
find, at last, that the necessary portion is very small. We are little
accustomed to consider how simple a thing civil government is, — nor
what an unnumbered multiplicity of offices and sources of patronage
would be cut off, if it existed in its simple and rightful state.
Supposing this state of rectitude to be attained, and the little patronage
which remained to be employed rather as an encouragement and reward
of public virtue than of subserviency to purposes of party, we should have
no reason to complain of the existence of influence or of its effects.
Swift said of our own country, that " While the prerogative of giving all
employments continues in the crown, either immediately or by subordi
nation, it is in the power of the prince to make piety and virtue become
the fashion of the age, if, at the same time, he would make them neces
sary qualifications for favour and preferment."* But, unhappily, in the
existing character of political affairs in all nations, piety and virtue would
be very poor recommendations to many of their concerns. "The just
man," as Adam Smith says, " the man who, in all private transactions
would be the most beloved and the most esteemed, in those public trans
actions is regarded as a fool and an idiot, who does not understand his
business."! It would be as absurd to think of making " piety and virtue
qualifications" for these offices as to make idiocy a qualification for under
standing the Principia. But the position of Swift, although it is not true
while politics remain to be what they are. contains truth if they were
what they ought to be. We should have, I say, no reason to complain
of the existence of influence or of its effects, if it were reduced to its
proper amount, and exerted in its proper direction.
It has, I think, been justly observed that one of the principal causes
of the separation of America from Britain consisted in the little influence
which the crown possessed over the American States. They had popular
assemblies, guided, as such assemblies are wont to be, by impatience
* Project for the Advancement of Religion. f Theo. of Mor. Sent
GHAP. 7.] PARTY. 271
of control as well as by zeal for independence ; and the government pos
sessed no patronage that was sufficient to counteract the democratic
principles. Occasion of opposition was ministered ; and the effect was
seen. The American assemblies, and the corresponding temper of the
people, were more powerful than the little influence which the crown
possessed* What was to be done ? It was necessary either to relin
quish the government which could no longer be maintained without force,
or to employ force to retain it. The latter was attempted ; and, as was
to be expected, it failed. I say failure was to be expected ; because the
state of America and of England too was such that a government of force
could not be supposed likely to stand. Henry VIII. and Elizabeth
governed England by a species of force. They induced parliamentary
compliance by intimidation. This intimidation has given place to influ
ence. But every man will perceive that it would be impossible to return
to intimidation again. And it was equally impossible to adopt it perma
nently in the case of America.
And here it may be observed, in passing, that the separation from a
mother-country of extensive and remote dependencies is always to be
eventually expected. As the dependency increases in population, in
intelligence, in wealth, and in the various points which enable it to be,
and which practically constitute it, a nation of itself, — it increases in the
tendency to actual separation. This separation may be delayed by the
peculiar nature of the parent's government, but it can hardly be in the
end prevented. It is not in the constitution of the human species to
remain under the supremacy of a foreign power to which they are under
no natural subordination, after the original causes of the supremacy have
passed away. Accordingly, there is reason to expect that, in days to
come, the possessions of the European powers on the other quarters of
the globe will one after another lapse away. Happy will it be for these
powers and for the world, if they take counsel of the philosophy of human
affairs, and of the experience of times gone by : — if they are willing
tranquilly to yield up a superiority of which the reasonableness and the
propriety is past, — a superiority which no efforts can eventually main
tain, — and a superiority which really tends not to the welfare of the
governing, of the governed, or of the world.
PARTY.
THE system of forming parties in governments is perfectly congruous
with the general character of political affairs, but totally incongruous with
political rectitude. Of this incongruity considerate men are frequently
sensible ; and accordingly we find that defences of party are set up, and
set up by men of respectable political character.* To defend a custom
is to intimate that it is assailed.
What does the very nature of party imply ? That he who adheres to
it speaks and votes not always according to the dictates of his own judg
ment, but according to the plans of other men. This sacrifice of indi
vidual judgment violates one of the first and greatest duties of a legis-
* Fox, I believe, was one of them, and the present Lord John Russell, in his Life of Lord
Russell, is another.
272 PARTY [ESSAY III
lator, — to direct his separate and unbiased judgment to the welfare of
the state. There can be no proper accumulation of individual experi
ence among those who vote with a party.
But, indeed, the justifications which are attempted do not refer to the
abstract rectitude of becoming one of a party, but to the unfailing ground
of defending political evil, — expediency. An administration, it is said,
would not be so likely to stand, or an opposition to prevail, when each
man votes as he thinks rectitude requires, as when he ranges himself
under a leader. The difference is like that which subsists in war between
a body of irregular peasantry and a disciplined army : each man's arm is
as strong in the one case as in the other, but each man's is not equally
effective.
Very well. If we are to be told that it is fitting, or honest, or decent,
that senates and cabinets should act upon the principles of conflicting
armies, parties raav easily be defended, but surely legislators have other
business and o^^v duties. It only exhibits the wideness of the general
departure from the proper modes of conducting government and legisla
tion, that such arguments are employed. — It, will be said that there are
no means of expelling a bad administration from office but by a system
atic opposition to its measures. If this were true, it would be nothing
to the question of rectitude, unless it can be shown that the end sanc
tions the means. The question is not whether we shall overthrow an
administration, but whether we shall do what is right. But, even with
respect to the success of political objects, it is not very certain that
simple integrity would not be the most efficacious. The man who habit
ually votes on one side loses, and he ought to lose, much of the confi
dence of other members and of the public. At what value ought we to
estimate the mental principles of a man who foregoes the dictates of his
own judgment, and acts in opposition to it, in order to serve a party?
What is the ground upon which we can place confidence in his integrity ?
Facts may furnish an answer. The speeches, and statements, and ar
guments of such persons are listened to with suspicion ; and an habitual
and large deduction is made from their weight. This is inevitable.
Hearers and the public cannot tell whether the speaker is uttering his
own sentiments or those of others : they cannot tell whether he believes
his own statements or is convinced by his own reasoning. So that, even
when his cause is good and his advocacy just, he loses half his influence
because men are afraid to rely upon him, and because they still do not
know whether some illusion is not underneath. The mind is kept so
constantly jealous of fallacies that it excludes one-half of the truth. But
when the man stands up of whom it is known that he is sincere, that what
he says he thinks, and what he asserts he believes ; the mind opens
itself to his statements without apprehension of deceit. No deductions
are made for the over-colourings of party. Integrity carries with it its
proper sanction.
Now if, generally, the measures of a party are good, the individual
support of upright men would probably more effectually recommend
them to a senate and to a nation, than the ranked support of men whose
uprightness must always be questionable and questioned. If the mea
sures are not good, it matters not how inefficiently they are supported.
Let those who now range themselves under political leaders, of whatever
party, throw away their unworthy shackles ; let them convince the
legislature and the public that they are absolutely sincere men ; and it is
CHAP. 7. ] MINISTERIAL UNION. 273
probable that a vicious policy would not be able to stand before them.
For other motives to opposition than actual viciousness of measures I
have nothing to say. He whose principles allow him 10 think that other
motives justify opposition may very well vote against his understanding.
The principles and the conduct are congenial ; but both are bad.
MINISTERIAL UNION.
TJie unanimous support or opposition which ordinarily is given to a
measure by the members of an administration, whatever be their private
opinions, is a species of party. Like other modes of party, it results
from the impure condition of political affairs ; like them, it is incongru
ous with sound political rectitude, — and, like them, it is defended upon
pleas of expediency. The immorality of this custom is easily shown ;
because it sacrifices private judgment, involves a species of hypocrisy,
and defrauds the community of that uninfluenced judgment respecting
public affairs for which all public men are appointed. " Ministers have
been known, publicly and in unqualified terms, to applaud those very
measures of a coadjutor which they have freely condemned in private."*
Is this manly ? Is it honest ? Is it Christian ? If it is not, it is vicious
and criminal ; and all arguments in its defence — all disquisitions about
expediency — are sophistical and impertinent.
" The necessity for the co-operation" (I use political language) results
from the general impurity of political systems, — systems in which not
reason, simply, and principle direct, but influence also, and the spirit of
party, and the love of power. Where influence is to be employed,
union among a cabinet is likely to urge it in fuller force : — Whore the
spirit of party is to be employed, this union is necessary to the object :
— Where the love of power is the guide, consistency and integrity must
be sacrificed to its acquisition or retention. But take away this influ
ence, — which is bad ; and this spirit of party, — which is bad ; and this
love of power, — which is bad ; and the minister may speak and act like
a consistent and a virtuous man. It is with this, as with unnumbered
cases in life, that what is called the necessity for a particular vicious
course of action is quite adventitious, resulting in no degree from the
operation of sound principles, but from the diffused impurity of human
institutions.
But, indeed, the necessity is not perhaps so obvious as is supposed.
The same reasons as those which make the support of a partisan com
paratively inefficient, operate upon the ministerial advocate. He is re
garded as a party man ; and as the exertions of a party man his argu
ments are received. People say or think, when such arguments are
iirged, as some men say and think of the labours of the clergy, — "What
they say is a matter of course ;" — " It is their business ; their trade."
No one disputes that these feelings have a powerful effect in diminish
ing the practical effect of the labours of the pulpit ; and they have
the same effect with respect to the labours of a ministry. We listen to
a minister rather as a pleader than as a judge ; and every one knows what
disproportionate regard is paid to these. Why should not ministers be
* Gisborne : Duties of Men.
12 S
274 THE COUNCIL BOARD AND THE SENATE. LEssAT III.
judges ? Why should not senates confide in their integrity, believe their
statements, give candid attention to their reasonings, — as we attend to,
and believe, and confide in what is uttered from the bench? And does
any man think so ill of mankind as to believe that if an administration
acted thus, they would not actually possess a greater influence upon the
minds of men than they do now I Even now, when men are so habit
uated to the operation of influence and party, I believe that a minister
is listened to with much greater confidence and satisfaction when he
dissents from his colleagues than when he makes common cause. We
then insensibly reflect, that he is no longer the pleader but the judge.
The independence of his judgment is unquestioned ; and we regard it
therefore as the judgment of an honest man.
Uniformity of opinion — or, more properly, unity of exertion — is not at
all necessary to the stability of a cabinet. Several recent administrations
in our own country have been divided in sentiment upon great questions
of national policy, and their members have opposed one another in par
liament. With what ill effects ? Nay, has not that very contrariety
recommended the reasonings of all, as those of sincere integrity? It is
usual with some politicians to declaim vehemently against " unnatural
coalitions in cabinets." As to individuals, they, no doubt, may be cen
surable for political tergiversation ; but as to cabinets being composed of
men of different sentiments, — of sentiments so different as their respect
ive judgments may occasion, — it is both allowable and expedient. It
is just what a wise community would wish, because it affords a secu
rity for that canvass of public measures which is likely to illustrate their
character and tendencies. But it is a sorrowful and a sickening sight,
to contemplate a number of persons frankly urging their various and dis
agreeing opinions at a council-board, and as soon as some resolution is
come to, all proceeding to a senate, and one-half urging the very argu
ments against which they have just been contending, and by which they
are not yet convinced. Is freedom of canvass for any reasons useful and
right at the council-board ? Is it not, for the very same reasons, useful and
right in a senate ? The answer would be, Yes, if public measures were
regarded as the measures of the community, and not of the administration ;
because then the desire and judgment of the community would be sought by
the public and independent discussion of the question. Here, then, at last
is one great cause of the evil,— that a large proportion of public acts are the
measures of administrations; and being such, administrations unitedly
support them whatever be the individual opinions of their members. These
things ought not so to be. I would not indeed say that, from the crown
of the head to the sole of the foot, there is no soundness in the system,
• — but the evil is mingled deplorably with the good. It is sometimes in
practice almost forgotten that an administration is an executive rather
than a legislative body, — that their original and natural business is rather
to do what the legislature and constitution directs, than to direct the
legislature themselves. I say the original and natural business ; for, how
congenial soever the great influence of administrations in public affairs
may be with the present tenor of policy, and especially of international
policy, it is not at all congenial with the original purpose and simple and
proper objects of civil government, — the welfare of the .community, as
determined by an enlightened survey of the national mind.
Of the want of advertence to these simple and proper objects one
effect has been that, in this country, administrations have frequently
BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 275
given up their offices when the senate has rejected their measures.
This is an unequivocal indication of the wrong station in which cabinets
are placed in the legislature, — because it indicates, that if a cabinet
cannot carry its point it is supposed to be unfit for its office. All this is
natural enough upon the present system, but it is very unnatural when
cabinets are regarded, either in their ministerial capacity, as executive
officers, or in their legislative capacity, as ordinary members of the senate.
Executive officers are to do what the constitution and the legislature
direct ; members of a senate are to assist that legislature in directing
aright : in all which, no necessity is involved for ministers to resign their
offices because the measures which they think best are not thought best
by the majority. That a ministry should sometimes judge amiss is to
be expected, because it is to be expected of all men : but surely in a sound
state of political institutions, their fallibility would not be a necessary
argument of untitness for their offices, nor would the rejection of some
of their opinions be a necessary evidence of a loss of the confidence of
the public.
CHAPTER VIII.
BRITISH CONSTITUTION.
THAT the British Constitution is relatively good is satisfactorily indi
cated by its effects. Without indulging in the ordinary gratulations of
our " own country being the first country in the world," it is unquestion
ably, in almost every respect, among the first, — among the first in liberty,
in intellectual and moral excellence, and in whatever dignifies and adorns
mankind. A country which thus surpasses other nations, and which has,
with little interruption, possessed a nearly uniform constitution for ages,
may well rest assured that its constitution is good. To say that it is
good is however very different from saying that it is theoretically per
fect, or practically as good as its theory will allow. Under a king, lords,
and commons, we have prospered ; but it does not therefore follow that
under a king, lords, and commons, we might not have prospered more.
Whatever may be the future allotment of our country as to the form of
its government, whether at any period, or at what, the progressive
advancement of the human species will occasion an alteration, we are
not at present concerned to inquire. Of one thing, indeed, we may be
assured, that if it should be the good pleasure of Providence that this
advancement in excellence shall take place, the practical principles of
the government and its constitutional form, will be gradually moulded
and modified into a state of adaptation to the then condition of mankind.
I. Of the regal part of the British Constitution I would say little.
The sovereign is, in a great degree, identified with an administration ;
and into the principles which should regulate ministerfal conduct the
preceding chapters have attempted some inquiry.
Yet it may be observed, that supposing ministerial influence to be
" necessary" to the constitution, there appears considerable reason to
think that its amount may be safely and rightly diminished. As this
influence becomes needless in proportion to the actual rectitude of polit
ical measures ; as there is some reason to hope that this rectitude is
S3
276 INFLUENCE OF THE CROWN. [ESSAY III.
increasing ; and as the public capacity to judge soundly of political
measures is manifestly increasing also ; it is probable that some portion
of the influence of the crown might be given up, without any danger to
the constitution or the public weal. And, waiving all reference to the
essential moral character of influence, it is to be remembered, that no
degree of it is defensible, even by the politician, but that which appa
rently subserves the reasonable purposes of government.
It is recorded that in 1741, in Scotland, "sixteen peers were chosen
literally according to the list transmitted from court."* Such a fact
would convince a man, without further inquiry, that there must have
been something very unsound in the ministerial politics of the day ; or, at
any rate (which is nearly the same thing), something very discordant
with the general mind.
In 1793, and while, of course, the Irish parliament existed, a bill was
brought into that parliament to repeal some of the Catholic disabilities.
This bill, the " parliament loudly, indignantly, and resolutely rejected."
A few months afterward, a similar bill was introduced under the au
spices of the government. Pitt had taken counsel of Burke, and wished
to grant the Catholics relief: and when the viceroy's secretary accordingly
brought in a bill, two members only opposed it ; and at the second read
ing it was opposed but by one vote. Now, whatever may be said of the
" necessity" of ministerial influence for the purposes of state, nothing can
be said in favour of such influence as this. Every argument which would
show its expediency would show even more powerfully the impurity of
the system which could require it.
It is common to hear complaints of ministerial influence in parliament.
— " That kind of influence which the noble lord alludes to," said Fox, in
one of his speeches, " I shall ever deem unconstitutional ; for by the
influence of the crown, he means the influence of the crown in parlia
ment."! But if it is concluded that influence is " necessary," it seems
idle to complain of its exercise in the senate. Where should it be exerted
with effect ? Whether it be constitutional it is difficult to say, because
it is difficult to define where constitutional acts end and unconstitutional
acts begin. But it may safely be concluded that, in such matters, ques
tions of constitutional rectitude are little relevant. Influence, you say —
and in a certain sense you say it truly — is necessary. To what purpose
then can it be to complain of the exercise of that influence in those places
in which only or principally it is effectual ? It would be impossible for
persons, with our views of political rectitude, to execute the office of
minister upon any system that approached, in its character, to the present ;
but were it otherwise, I would advise a minister openly to avow the
exercise of influence, and to defend it. This were the frank and, I think,
the rational course. Why should a man affect secrecy or concealment
about an act "politically necessary." I would not talk about disinterest
edness and independence ; but tell the world that influence was needful,
and that I exerted it. Not that such an avowal would stop, or ought to stop,
the complaints of virtuous men. The morality of politics is not so ob
scure but that thousands will always perceive that the exertion of influence,
and the submission to it, is morally vicious. This conflict will continue.
Artifice and deception are *' necessary" to a swindler, but all honest men
know and feel that the artifice and deception are wrong.
* Smollett : Hist. England, v, iii., p. 71. f Fell's Public Life of C. J. Fox.
CHAP. 8.] CANDIDATES FOR A PEERAGE. 277
II. It appears to have been discovered, or assumed, in most free states,
that it is expedient that there should be two deliberative assemblies, of
which one shall, from its constitution, possess less of a democratical
tendency than the other. Not that, in a purer state of society, two such
assemblies would be necessary, but because, while separate individuals
or separate classes of men pursue their peculiar interests and are swayed
by their peculiar prejudices, it is found needful to obstruct one class of
interests and tendencies by another. Such a purpose is answered by
the British House of Lords.
The privileges of the members of this house are such as to offer con
siderable temptation to their political virtue. A body of men whose
eminence consists in artificial distinctions between them and the rest of
the community are likely to desire to make these distinctions need
lessly great ; and for that purpose to postpone the public welfare to the
interests of an order. We all know that there is a collective as well as
an individual ambition. It is a truth which a peer should habitually
inculcate upon himself, that however rank and title may be conferred for
the gratification of the possessor, the legislative privileges of a peer are
to be held exclusively subservient to the general good. I use the word
exclusively in its strictest sense : so that, if even the question should
come, whether any part or the whole of the privileges of the peerage
should be withdrawn or the general good should be sacrificed, 1 should
say that no reasonable question could exist respecting the proper alter
native. Were I a peer, I should not think myself at liberty to urge the
privileges of my order in opposition to the public weal ; for this were
evidently to postpone the greater interests to the less. If rulers of all
kinds, if civil government itself, are simply the officers of the nation,
surely no one class of rulers is at liberty to put its pretensions in oppo
sition to the national advantage.
The love of title and of rank constitutes one of the great temptations
of the political man. He can obtain them only from the crown ; and it is
not usual to bestow them except upon those who support the administra
tion of the day. The intensity of the desire which some men feel for
these distinctions has a correspondently intense effect. Lord Chatham
said " that he had known men of great ambition for power and dominion,
many whose characters were tarnished by glaring defects, some with
many vices, — who nevertheless could be prevailed upon to join in the
best public measures ; but the moment he found any man who had set
himself down as a candidate for a peerage, he despaired of his ever being
a friend to his country."* This displays a curious political phenomenon.
Can the reader give a better solution than the supposition that, in the
love itself of title, there is something little and low, and that the minds
which can be so anxious for it are commonly too little and too low to
sacrifice their hopes to friendship for their country ? — Many who are not
candidates for peerages nevertheless look upon them with a wishing eye ;
and some who have attained to the lower honours of the order are equally
solicitous for advancement to the higher. So that even upon those on
whom the temptation is not so powerful as that of which Chatham speaks
— some temptation is laid ; a temptation of which it were idle to dispute
that the aggregate effect is great.
If, without reference to the existing state of Britain, a man should ask
* Quoted by Fox.— Fell's Memoirs.
278 HOUSE OF LORDS— UISHOPS. [ESSAY m
whether the legislators of a nation ought to be subjected to such tempta
tion, — whether it were a judicious political institution, I should answer,
No : because I should judge that a legislative assembly ought to have no
inducements or motives foreign to the general good. This appears to be
so obviously true that the necessity, if there be a necessity, for an assembly
BO constituted, only evinces how imperfect the political character of a
people is. There would be no need for having recourse to an objec
tionable species of assembly, if it were not wanted to counteract
or to effect purposes which a purely constituted assembly could not
attain.
In estimating the relative worthiness of objects of human pursuit, a
peerage does not appear to rank high. I know not indeed how it hap
pens that men contemplate it with so much complacency ; and that so
few are found who appear to doubt whether it is one of the most reason
able and worthy objects of desire. A title ! Only think what a title is,
and what it is not. It is a thing which philosophy may reasonably hold
cheap ; a thing which partakes of the character of the tinsel watch, for
which the new-breeched urchin looks with anxious eyes, and by which,
when he has got it, he thinks he is made a greater man than before.
If such be the character of title when brought into comparison with the
dignity of man, what is it when it is compared with the dignity of the
Christian ? Nothing. It may be affirmed, without any apprehension of
error, that the greater the degree in which any man is a Christian, the
less vrill be his wish to be called a lord ; and that when he attains to the
" fulness of the stature" of a Christian man, no wish will remain. — If addi
tional motives can be urged to reduce our ambition of title, some perhaps
may be found in considering the grounds upon which it has too fre
quently been conferred. Queen Anne, when once the ministry could
not carry a measure in the Upper House, made twelve new peers at once.
These, of course, voted for the measure. What honourable and elevated
mind would have purchased one of these titles at the expense of the
caustic question which a member put when they were going to give
their first vote, — " Are you going to vote by your foreman ?"
Whether the heads of a Christian church should possess seats in the
legislature is a question that has often been discussed. — If a Christian
bishop can attend to legislative affairs without infringing upon the time
and attention which is due to his peculiar office, there appears nothing in
that office which disqualifies him for legislative functions. The better a
man is, the more, as a general rule, he is fit for a legislator ; so that,
assuming that bishops are peculiarly Christian men, it is not unfit that
they should assist in the councils of the nation. Nevertheless, it must
be conceded that there is no peculiar congruity between the office of the
Christian overseer and that of an agent in political affairs. They are
not incompatible indeed, but the connexion is not natural. Politics do
not form the proper business of a Christian shepherd. They are wholly
foreign to his proper business ; and that retirement from the things of
the world which Christianity requires of her ministers, and which she
must be supposed peculiarly to require of her more elevated ministers,
indicates the propriety of meddling but little in affairs of state. But,
when it comes to be proposed that all the heads of a Christian church
shall be selected for legislators, because they are heads of the church, —
the impropriety becomes manifest and great. To make a high religious
office the qualification for a political office is manifestly wrong. It may
CHAP. 8.J HOUSE Of LORDS— BISHOPS. 279
be found now and then that a good bishop is fit for a useful legislator, —
but because you have elevated a man to a more onerous and responsible
office in the church, forthwith to superadd an onerous and responsible
office in the state, is surely not to consult the dictates of Christianity or
of reason. Nor is it rational or Christian forthwith to add a temporal
peerage. If there be any one thing, not absolutely vicious, which is
incongruous with the proper temper and character of an exalted shepherd
of the flock, it is temporal splendour. Such splendour accords very well
with the political character of the Romish church, — .but with Protestant
ism, with Christianity, it has no accordance. The splendours of title
are utterly dissimilar in their character to the character of the heads of
the church, as that character is indicated in the New Testament. How
preposterous is the association in idea of " My lord" with a Paul or a
Barnabas ! — The truth indeed is, that this species of fornication did not
originate in religion, nor in religious motives. It sprang up with the
corruptions of the papacy ; and in this, as in some other instances, we,
who have purified the vicious doctrine, have clung to the vicious practice
To these considerations is to be added another : that the extent of
jurisdiction which is assigned to the bishops of this country is such as
to occupy, if the office be rightly executed, a large portion of a bishop's
time, — a portion so large, that if he be exemplary as a bishop, he can
hardly be exemplary as a legislator. If, as will perhaps be admitted, the
diligent and conscientious pastor of an ordinary parish has a sufficient
employment for his time, it cannot be supposed that a bishop has less.
He who presides over hundreds of parishes and hundreds of pastors, and
rightly presides over them, can surely find little time for attendance in
the senate ; especially when that attendance takes him, as it necessarily
does, far away from the inferior shepherds and from the flocks.
But when it comes to be considered that our bishops are the heads of
an established church, we are presented with a very different field of in
quiry. That which is not congruous with Christianity may be congruous
with a religious establishment. Nor, in a religious establishment like
that which obtains in England", would there perhaps be any propriety in
dismissing bishops from the House of Lords. They have to watch over
other interests than those of religion, — political interests ; and where shall
they efficiently watch over them if they have no voice in political affairs?
Bishops in this country have not merely to "feed the flock of God which
is among them," but to take care that that flock and their shepherds retain
their privileges and their supremacy : so that if I were asked wh-jther
bishops ought to have a seat in the legislature, I should answer, — if you
mean by a bishop a head of a Christian church, he has other and better
business : — if by a bishop you mean the head of an established church,
the question must be determined by the question of the rectitude of an
established church itself.
Without stopping to decide this question, it maybe observed, that some
serious mischiefs result from the institution as it exists. A bishop
should be not only of unimpeachable, but, as far as may be, of untempted
virtue. His office as a peer subjects him to great temptations. Bishops
are more dependent upon the crown than any other class of peers, be
cause vacancies for elevation in the church are continually occurring; and
for these vacancies a bishop hopes. Since he cannot generally expect
to obtain them by an opposition, however conscientious, to the minister
of the day, he is placed in a situation which no good na«u ought to desire
280 HOUSE OF LORDS— PROXIES. [ESSAY III.
for himself; that of a powerful temptation to sacrifice his integrity to
his interests. How frequently or how far that temptation prevails, I
presume not to determine ; but it is plain, whatever be the cause, that the
minister can count upon the support of the bishops more confidently than
upon any other class of peers. This is not the experience of one min
ister, or of two ; but, in general language, of all. History states, inform
ally, and as an unquestioned circumstance, that " from the bench of bish
ops the court usually expects the greatest complaisance and submission."*
I perceive nothing in the nature of the Christian office to induce this
support of the minister of the day. I do not see why a Christian pastor
should do this rather than a legislator of another station : for it will hardly
be contended that there is so much goodness and purity in ministerial
transactions, that a Christian pastor must support them because they are
so pure and so good. What conclusion then remains, but that temptation
is presented, and that it prevails ? That this, simply regarded, is an
evil, no man can doubt; but let him remember that the evil is not neces
sarily incidental even to the legislating bishop. There may be bishops
without solicitude for translations, for there may be a church without de
pendence on the crown, or connexion with the state. While this con
nexion and this dependence remain, I do not say that ecclesiastical
peers cannot be exempt from unworthy influence, but there is no hope
of exemption in the present condition of mankind.
The system which obtains in the House of Lords of accepting proxies
in divisions appears strangely inconsistent with propriety and reason.
It intimates utter contempt of the debates of the house ; because it vir
tually declares that the arguments of the speakers are of no weight or
concern. Who can tell or who ought to tell, when he gives his proxy to
another, whether the discussion might not alter his views, and make him
vote on the other side ? Proxies are congruous enough with a system
of legislation which is conducted upon maxims of interest and party —
but if we suppose legislation to proceed upon evidence and reasoning,
they are a preposterous mockery of common sense.
The number of peers has rapidly increased. This may be a subject
of regret to the peerage itself, because every addition to its number may
be regarded as a reduction from the dignity of each. The dignity is
relative, and consists in the distinction between them and other men ;
which distinction becomes less as peers become common. As the peer
age is progressively increased in number, a lord will be progressively
reduced in practical rank. The title remains the same, but the actual
distinction between him and other men is waning away. But, though
this may cause regret to a peer, it ought to cause none to the man of
reason or the patriot. As to reason, if our estimates of title be accu
rate, its distinctions are sufficiently vain : and as to patriotism, if our
country is increasing in knowledge and in excellence, it is increasing in
its ability to direct its own policy, without the intervention of an order
of peers. So that, supposing the cessation of that order to be hereafter
desirable, the patriot may hope that its distinctions will be yielded up to
the general weal more willingly when they have become insignificant by
diffusion, than if they were great by being possessed but by a few,
* Hume's England.
CHAP. 8.] HOUSE OF COMMONS. 281
In reflecting then upon the political character of the House of Lords*
it is to be remembered that its utility appears to be conditional, — con
ditional upon the state of the community. It may be needed to check
intemperate measures, to restrain, for instance, the vicious encroach
ments of democracy ; but it is not needed in any other sense. It is like
the physician's prescription or the surgeon's knife, — useful in an un
healthy state of the social body, but useless if it were sound. The
reader will say that this is strong language ; and so it is : but he has no
reason to complain if it is the language of truth ; and that it is true, he
may perhaps be convinced by authority, upon such a subject, less ques
tionable than mine. " Were the voice of the people always, dictated by
reflection ; did every man, or even one man in a hundred, think for him
self, or actually consider the measure he was about to approve or censure ,
or even were the common people tolerably steadfast in the judgment
which they formed, I should hold the interference of a superior order
not only superfluous, but wrong."*
III. The House of Commons is, constitutionally, the representative of
the people ; and the degree in which it fulfils this its constitutional office
is to be estimated by the degree in which the public wish is actually
represented by its members. " It is essential to the happiness of the
people that they should be convinced that they, and the members of this
house, feel an identity of interest ; that the nation at large and the rep
resentatives of the people hold a conformity of sentiment. This is the
essence of a proper representative assembly."! It is not necessary to
the just fulfilment of this office that every measure which a majority of
the people desire should be adopted by the House ; because its mem
bers are often better able to judge what is good for the majority, than
they are themselves ; and because, sometimes, popular opinions are not,
I think, capricious, but fluctuating and unreasonably vehement. There
was a time when the populace were in tumult and almost in insurrection,
because the legislature had erected turnpikes ; but if three-fourths of
the population of the country had joined in the outcry, it would not have
been a good reason for repealing the act. But if the public wish is not
always to be gratified by the House of Commons, it is always to be ex
pressed within its walls. The House should know what the people de
sire, though they are at liberty, if they think it needful, to reject that
desire. This, it is obvious, is a right which the people may claim of the
republican part of the constitution. It were neither decorous nor wise
to show even impatience at the respectful petitions of the people : not
decorous, for it implies forgetfulness that the House is the servant of the
public ; not wise, for a candid attention to the public representations,
even when they are not acted upon, is one of the surest means of con
ciliating the esteem, and of administering to the satisfaction of the com
munity.
In estimating the extent to which the decisions of the House of Com
mons ought actually to correspond with the public wishes, no narrow
limits should be prescribed. It is here, if anywhere, that the people
are to be heard. Both the other branches of the constitution tend natu
rally to their separate and privileged interests : so that if in the senate
of a republican government the people ought to be represented, much
* Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 7.
f William Pitt : Gilford's Life, v. iii.
282 EXTENSION OF THE [ESSAY III.
more emphatically ought they to be represented by the commons in a
government like our own.
The most accurate test of the degree in which the British House of
Commons fulfils this its primary office is to be sought in the deliberate
judgments of reasonable and thinking men ; not of party men, or in
terested men, — but of the temperate and the good. Now there is reason
to think that, in the judgments of this portion of the community, there is
not a just and sufficient identity between the public voice and the mea
sures of this House.
But, supposing the practical representation to be defective, how is the
defect to be repaired ? A question this of far less easy solution than
some politicians would persuade us. Not frequency of parliaments, —
not extensions of the franchise, — not altering the modes of election will
be sufficient. The evil is seated, primarily and essentially, in the impure
condition, in the imperfect virtue of man. To those who are imperfect
and impure temptation is offered, — the temptation perhaps of party, per
haps of interest, — perhaps of resentment, — perhaps of ambition. You
cannot make men proof against these temptations but by making them
good; and modes of electing or frequency of election will not do this.
The only reformation must result from the reformation of the heart.
Electors themselves are not solicitous to elect good men. They are in
fluenced by passion, and interest, and party. — How then should they
select those who are independent, and disinterested, and temperate ?
But evils which cannot be removed may be diminished ; and since the
evil in question indicates an insufficient degree of liberty, both civil and
political, it may be of advantage to inquire whether both cannot be and
ought not to be increased.
Now, remembering that it lies upon the legislature to prove that the
present institutions are the best, — what is the evidence that mischief
would arise from an extension of the franchise, and from an alteration
of the modes of election ? We are not required to evince that benefit
would arise from such measures ; because their propriety is dictated by
the principles of political truth, unless it is shown that they would be
pernicious. Assuredly, in contemplating mere probabilities, it is more
probable that a representative will be virtuously chosen, when he is
chosen by a thousand men than when by only ten. The reason is sim
ple, that it is much more difficult to offer vicious motives to the electors.
If the probability of advantage in such an alteration is disputable, it must
be by the production of very strong probabilities on the other side. And
until those probabilities are adduced, I see not how it can be denied that
from the public is withheld a portion of their civil rights. There is
always one powerful reason for an extension of the legal right of elec
tion ; which is, that it tends to satisfy the people. This satisfaction is of
importance, whether the wish of the people be in itself desirable or not :
so that of two measures which in other respects were equally eligible,
that would become the best and the right one which imparted the greatest
satisfaction to the community. It cannot be hoped that this satisfaction
will ever prevail during the continuance of the present state of the fran
chise. Its irregular and inconsistent character will always (even set
ting aside its consequences) give rise to uneasiness and complaints. A
large county can never think political justice is exercised while it sends
no more members than a little borough. Birmingham and Manchester
CHAP. 8.] ELECTIVE FRANCHISE. 283
will never think it is exercised, while Old Sarum sends two members
and they send none.
There are, no doubt, many difficulties interposed in the way of the
legislature in proceeding to a reformation, — which difficulties, however,
will generally be found to result from the existing impurity of the present
system. It is not perhaps impossible that if a House of Commons were
selected by any approach to universal suffrage, it would ere long interfere
with the established modes of governing. Many, it is probable, would
feel that their prejudices were outraged, and their interests invaded, and
their privileges diminished or taken away. These prospects interpose
difficulties ; and yet unless these prejudices are reasonable, and these
interests virtuous, and these privileges dictated by the public good, it will
be seen that the difficulties of reform result, not from any defect in the
principles of political truth, but from the conflict between the operation
of those principles and exceptionable systems.
Not, indeed, that a representative body, however elected, is to be con
cluded as necessarily temperate and wise. There is much reason to
fear, in the present state of private virtue, that if the House of Commons
were a purely popular assembly, it might both injudiciously and unjustifi
ably excite political distractions. If, on the one hand, they found that any
existing institutions required amendment, they would probably on the
other hand seek to establish popular power in opposition to the general
good.
Nevertheless, there appears sufficient reason for thinking that some
alteration, and considerable alteration, might be made in the system of
representation, which would do good without doing evil. If the British
empire is not prepared for a purely popular representation, it is, I think,
prepared for a representation more popular than that which obtains.
Mild and gradual alteration is perhaps the best. The franchise may be
extended, one by one, to new districts or new towns, and taken away or
modified, one by one, from places in which the electors are few or in
which they are corrupt. By such means the reformation might keep
pace, and only keep pace, with the general progress of the nation. The
prospect of successive amendment would tend to satisfy the public, and
the general end be eventually answered by innoxious means.
Some want of enlargement of views appears to exist with respect to
the propriety and the right of the legislature to remove the elective fran
chise. It seems to be thought that a borough ought not to be deprived
of it, unless its corruption is both general and distinctly proved. But
why ? The franchise is not possessed for the gratification of the inhab
itants of a particular spot, but for the national good. It might, no doubt,
have originally been given for their gratification, but this was always an
unreasonable motive for granting it. If the general advantage requires
the transfer of the right of election, it were strange indeed if the inhab
itants of a little town ought to prevent it by exclaiming, Do not encroach
upon our privileges. As to the property vested in the privilege, it is
founded, if not in corruption, in political impropriety. For a house
holder to say, I have given a hundred pounds more for my premises be
cause they conveyed a right of voting, or for a patron to say, I have given
an extra five thousand for a manor because it enabled me to nominate
two representatives, is surely a very insufficient reason for continuing a
franchise that is adverse to the common weal. However, it is probable
284 UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE, [ESSAY III.
that the great object is, not to take away privileges, but to extend them,
and by that extension to secure the probability of uninfluenced elections.
Universal suffrage is a by-word of political scorn : and yet it is prob
able that the country will one day be fit for the adoption of universal suf
frage. The objections to it are founded — as, antecedently to inquiry, I
should expect they would be founded, — upon the ignorant and vicious
state of mankind. If knowledge and virtue increase, universal suffrage
may hereafter be rightly adopted. — If they are now increasing, approaches
towards such suffrage are desirable now. Nor perhaps is the public
preparation for these approaches so little as some men suppose. A part
of our objections to it are quite fortuitous and accidental, and easily
removable by legislative enactments. Nor again is it to be forgotten
that some of the states in the American Union do actually adopt uni
versal suffrage, or something that is very much like it. Upon this sub
ject it is always to be remembered, that unless the withholding of the
privilege of election is necessary to the national welfare, the possession
of it is, in strictness, a civil right. It can never be shown upon other
grounds than expediency, why one man should possess- the privilege
while his neighbour should not.
The present modes of election are productive of much evil, — evil by
facilitating undue influence, — evil by occasioning immorality and riot, —
and evil by attaching to the idea of frequent elections ideas of national
inquietude and confusion. When we see, at the time of an election,, a
multitude of men brought together, many of them perhaps from a dis
tance, and fed and lodged at the expense of one of the candidates, we
certainly see that the door is opened wide for the entrance of corruption.
In 1696 an act was passed " for voiding all the elections of parliament-
men, at which the elected had been at any expense in meat, drink, or
money to procure votes/'* When we see the neighbouring tenantry of
the several large land-owners (petty freeholders though they be) classed
in separate bodies, and voting, almost to a man, for the favourite of their
landlord, we see either that improper influence is grossly employed, or
that the exercise of private judgment is with such voters only a name.
If indeed there were no possibility of obtaining more considerate votes
from the population, I know not that much is to be hoped from a great
extension of the franchise, or from an alteration of the modes of elec
tion. — The riot and confusion of elections is so great, that politicians
find it needful to advise dissolutions of parliament, at periods when it is
supposed that the excitement may be safely occasioned without endan
gering mischief to the general tranquillity. It would not be found a small
item in the national guilt, if we were to compute the amount of private
vice, of intemperance, profaneness, and debauchery which a general
election occasions. — These evils, again, are urged against proposals for
increasing the frequency of elections ! Thus one vicious system be
comes an excuse for another. You are afraid to endeavour parliament
ary integrity by frequent elections, because your bad system of elections
produces so much mischief \ The simple and obvious remedy is to elect
representatives on a less objectionable system. A few propositions
respecting the modes of election, will probably not be rejected by rea
sonable men.
That the elector should not be obliged to go to a distance from his own
* Smollett : Hist. England.
CHAP. 8.] FREQUENT ELECTIONS. 285
home : — because, if the place of election be distant, he will either refuse
to go, — which nullifies the institution with respect to him; or he will
go, and expect to be reimbursed his expenses and his loss of time, —
which leads, almost inevitably, to corruption.
That candidates should be at no expense in conducting the election : —
because their payments will operate as bribes, — because the necessity
of expense precludes virtuous and able men who cannot afford it, from
being chosen, — and because he who has, in this sense, purchased his
seat is in danger of thinking himself at liberty to repay himself by
seeking the rewards of political subserviency.
That it ought not to be known for what candidate an elector votes:* — be
cause, if it is known, the elector will probably be afraid to vote for the
man of his own choice, lest some friend of an adverse candidate, in whose
good offices he is interested, should withdraw them.
These propositions tend to the recommendation of some species of
ballot, for securing secrecy ; of elections at the public expense, for exclud
ing the mischiefs of Expenses to the candidate; and of the visit, prob
ably, of proper officers from house to house, to exclude the mischiefs of
requiring electors to leave their homes. Such institutions would, I be
lieve, prevent many, at least, of the mischiefs, moral and political, of the
present system ; and would take away from the advocate of long-lived
parliaments, one popular reason in their favour.
[" Annual parliaments" is another by-word of contempt ; and perhaps
they will never be expedient. This is one question : the expediency of
septennial parliaments is another. Nor is it a very philosophical nor a
very honest mode of contemning an alteration, to assume that there is no
practicable intermediate period between one year and seven. The
American House of Representatives is elected for two years, and as their
senate also is a representative body, while our House of Lords is not,
it is probable that biennial parliaments, with a reformed mode of election,
would be practicable and beneficial here.]
[The electors of a district choose a man of whom they hope rather
than know the character. They find in the course of a year or two that
he is unable or unwilling to discharge his public duty. To prevent such
electors from making another choice, — to oblige them, for seven years,
to be, in effect, destitute of a representation, is a serious grievance, and
it may be a serious evil.]
[A little before a dissolution there is sometimes a manifest endeavour
to conciliate the public by the adoption of some measure which they
approve. Can it be doubted that there would be an advantage in making
such measures more frequently necessary? or that more frequent parlia
ments would perceive the necessity, and act upon it ?]
With respect to the qualifications for voting, no rule can be prescribed,
because no rule can define how large a portion of the people, or whether
the whole, ought to possess votes. The security of the virtuous exercise
of the privilege is manifestly the object to be attained, — which security
must be sought according to some general rule. It may be doubted
* I am disposed to acknowledge that this secrecy of suffrages is not congruous with that
manly independence which it were desirable to promote. In a better state of society open
voting appears the more virtuous and honourable course ; for why should a man desire to
conceal that which he thinks it right to do ? Besides, balloting endangers the practice of
hypocrisy, by promising or pretending to vote according to the wish of another, and taking
advantage of the secrecy to vote against it.— Yet I see not that these consequences are such
as to vitiate the system as applicable and as expedient in the present day.
286 QUALIFICATIONS— CANVASSING. [ESSAY III.
whether (until all men are fit to become electors) any general rule is
better than that of amount of property; not so much because the pos
session of property exempts men from vicious influence, as because,
among the possessors of some competent property is the largest portion
of thinking men. We want, not only an unbiased, but a rational judg
ment. In the present state of property, the preference in towns of free
holders to renters appears to be carried too far. The man who rents a
house of forty pounds a year is much more likely to give a free and con
siderate vote than he who possesses only a freehold of three or four
pounds. Whatever qualification is required it should be universally uni
form. At any rate, it should vary only in compliance with the local
necessities of a district. " Freedom" of burghs and cities, and the rules
by which freedom is obtainable, are relics of a barbarous state of policy,
— relics which appear unworthy of the present age. They are like the
local jurisdictions of chartered magistracy, which one of our judges
recently reprobated from the bench as blots in the constitution.
No qualifications should be required in a representative but the single
and sufficient one, that his constituents prefer him to any other man. It
is a hardship upon them and upon him to thwart their choice — the best
perhaps that could be made — because the candidate does not possess a
certain amount of wealth. The case is different from that of the electors ;
for though the exaction of wealth in a representative may exclude some
of the fittest men in the country to assist the councils of the state, yet
from the eligibility of every man there is no danger that such a propor
tion of poorer men would be elected as to impede the legislature by their
ignorance or vice.
The peculiar circumstances of a people may indeed occasion the pro
priety of requiring some qualification in their legislators. When the
American colonies had separated themselves from England, and were
anxious to perpetuate their independence, and when they observed that
their country was continually replenishing with new adventurers, it was-
perhaps reasonable to enact, that the members of their government should
have been American citizens a certain number of years. But local
and temporary necessities do not affect the general truth.
Canvassing for votes is a vulgar and unworthy custom. I know not
how it happens that a man of honourable mind is content to wander over
the country, and call obeisantly at the doors of ignorant and low men to
solicit them to choose him for their representative. Why, if they prefer
him they ought to choose him without solicitation. If they do not, they
ought not to choose him with it. I should not like the consciousness
that I possessed my seat, not because I deserved it, but because I begged
the voters to elect me. Gentlemen, I doubt not, often feel the humilia
tion and experience the disgust of these canvasses. It is one among
the many sacrifices of manly dignity which are connected with political
affairs.
- To an inquirer who was uninformed of the national circumstances it
might appear an unaccountable absurdity .to preclude Christian ministers-
from becoming the representative legislators of a Christian people. The
better a man is, the better fitted he is for a legislator ; and assuming that
Christian pastors are among the best men, there seems no rational motive
to exclude them from the senate. Abating the peculiar circumstances of
a people, I can perceive no reason for excluding them which would not
hold in favour of excluding Christianity itself. To Christian legislators,
CHAP. 8.] HOUSE OF COMMONS. 287
Christianity is the primary rule : — who then would refuse admittance to
those of whom it may be presumed that they best understand the Chris
tian law ? But, when we turn from the dictates of abstract reason and
propriety to the state of a nation in which there is an established church,
— a church which assigns to one minister one specific spot for the exer
cise of its functions, — we are presented with a very different scene.
You cannot elect one of them (setting sinecures out of the question)
without taking him away from his appointed charge, nor without leaving
that charge to be as sheep without a shepherd. Nevertheless, since
there are in fact more clergymen than parishes, it does not appear
obvious why they should be refused eligibility. I would not, as in the
case of the bishops, mako any number or any order of clergy legislators,
because they were clergy; but neither would I, because they were clergy,
refuse to admit them. Perhaps, if the institution were remodelled, clergy
might be allowed to be eligible, — for their exclusion, it may be pre
sumed, is the result originally rather of accident than design. They
once had a convocation of their own with considerable political power ;
and when that convocation fell into disuse, no one perhaps thought of
their reasonable claims for admissibility to the House of Commons. Let
the writer be understood : — he is not proposing that Episcopal clergy, as
such, should be admitted into our House of Commons, but he is saying,
that Christian ministers should not, as such, be excluded from the coun
cils of a Christian nation. Penn was not the worse legislator because
he was an active minister of the gospel.
But, after all, it is disputed whether any alteration in the constitution
of the House of Commons or in the system of representation would pro
duce good effects, — whether more virtue or more talent could be collected
than is collected now. A question this, of which the negative has the
advantage of experience, and the positive has not. We know that the
present system has done good : — the effect of another is involved in
uncertainty. Now let it be considered, first, that from the reign of Eliza
beth through several succeeding reigns down to the revolution, the actual
power of the House of Commons increased. Was not that increase pro
ductive, on the whole, and is it not at the present hour productive, of good
effects ? Granting that it was, — will any man affirm that one hundred
and forty years have added nothing to the capability of the British public
to judge soundly respecting political affairs ? If the capacity of sound
judgment is increased, is it unreasonable — remembering the principles
of political truth — that that judgment should possess a greater influence
in the conduct of public affairs ? If that influence ought in reason to be
increased, how shall the increase be so judiciously contrived as by
making the House of Commons a more accurate and immediate repre
sentative of the public mind ?
As to the virtue, then, of the House of Commons, its peculiar and
characteristic virtue consists in the accuracy of their representation ; and
no man, I think, will deny that a greater practical representation is pos
sible than that which now obtains It is asked, " If such a number of
such men be liable to the influence of corrupt motives, what assembly
of men will be secure from the same danger ?"* But this is not the
question: for even if six hundred and fifty-eight men could not be selected
who would be more proof against corruption when elected for seven
* Paley: Mor. and Pol. Phil, b 6 c.7.
288 DUTIES OF A REPRESENTATIVE. [ESSAY III.
years, yet the same men might be found more proof against it if they
were elected only for two. A minister then, instead of having to provide
the inducements of influence for six hundred and fifty-eight men, would
have to provide them for nearly two thousand. Either he must augment
three or four fold the aggregate amount of his influence, or he must, in
the same proportion, diminish its power upon individuals. To think of
so increasing the amount is absurd. He must therefore curtail its indi
vidual streams. It would then be much less worth the while of a member
to submit to corruption. The temptation would be diminished, and with
the diminution of temptation there would be an increase of practical
virtue. Nor is this all. It is, I believe, an undisputed fact, that those
who represent the largest number of electors are, in the aggregate, less
subject to influence than those who represent a few. An altered mode
of representation might increase the number of those whose constituents
were numerous, or make them numerous to all — and thus that scale of
virtuous independence which is now found among a part of the repre
sentatives might then be found in all.
Then as to the accumulation of talent. I think it questionable whether
the brilliancy of the House of Commons would not be diminished by such
an alteration as that of which we speak ; partly because, in the language
of Dr. Paley, " When boroughs are set to sale, those men are likely to
become purchasers who are enabled by their talents to make the best of
their bargain." Granting all this, the answer is at hand, — that splendour
of abilities is much less necessary than integrity of virtue. If the ques
tion is between talent and rectitude, — rectitude is our choice. Unusual
talents, how much soever they may amuse and delight the House, andf
how acceptably soever they may fill the columns of a newspaper, are
greatly overrated in value, at least they are greatly overrated in reference
to a sound state of political affairs. The tortuous and wily policy which
obtains needs, no doubt, much sagacity and adroitness to conduct it suc
cessfully and with a fair face. What is really wanted in a legislator is
not brilliancy of talent, but a sound, and an enlightened, and an upright
mind. Nor is it tt> be forgotten, that the splendid talents of those who
seek " to make the best of their bargain" may be an evil rather than a
good. The bargain, it is to be feared, will be a losing- one to the public ;
and by him who makes the best the public may lose the most. After all,
it needs not to be feared that six or seven hundred of such men as a
House of Commons will always contain, will possess a sufficient aggre
gate of ability for all the needful and all the virtuous business of the
House,
It ha» sometimes been inquired, What are the duties of a representa
tive with respect to his constituents ? Generally, it is his duty to repre
sent their opinions, and to act and vote upon his own. It has been well
remarked, that a senator should consider himself not so much the repre
sentative of one portion of the community as a legislator for all ; and he
can fulfil this superior duty only by exercising his individual judgment.
Nevertheless, a man with a nice sense of justice and honour, if it be
found that the majority of his votes were at variance with the desires of
bis constituents, ought to reflect that he is really no longer their repre
sentative, and to offer the resignation of their trust into their hands.
It is curious, that while it is thus made a question whether a man
should follow his own judgment in opposition to that of his constituents,
no question seems to be entertained whether a man should follow his
CHAP. 8.] PLACEMEN AND PENSIONERS. 28S
own judgment in opposition to his patron's. There the elector's opinion
is to prevail : else the representative is not a man of honour ! — else,
he does not fulfil the condition on which he was appointed ! At the con
templation of such things common sense is confounded, and purity turns
away her eyes !*
Among the extraordinary doctrines which have arisen out of the ira
purity of political transactions, that of the " constitutional propriety of a
systematic opposition" is one. To assert this is to exhibit the politi
cal disease, — as he who has got the gout manifests the disorder to his
visiters by his swathed and cushioned leg. You cannot frame a more
preposterous proposition than that good government ought to be sys
tematically opposed. If a government ought to be opposed, it is only
because it is not good. If, being good, it is systematically opposed,
there is viciousness in the opposition. In whatever way you defend an
organized opposition, you assume the existence of evil. The motives
in which the systematic opposition of some men is founded correspond
with the pervading impurity. Although there is reason to be assured
that of some the very frequent opposition to a ministry is the result of
political integrity, of others it cannot be doubted that the motives are
kindred to those which are intimated in the humiliating note below/f
[The invective, and the ridicule, and retort, and personality which are
frequently indulged within the walls of parliament, and from which much
amusement appears to be derived to the members and to the public,
imply, to be sure, a sufficient degree of forgetfulness of the purpose for
which parliaments meet. A spectator might sometimes imagine that the
object of the assembly was to witness exhibitions of intellectual gladiators,
rather than to debate respecting the welfare of a great nation. Nor can
it be supposed that if this welfare were sufficiently, that is to say, con
stantly, dominant in the recollection, there would be so much solicitude
to expose individual weaknesses and absurdity, or to obtain personal
triumph.]
Much is said about " the exclusion of placemen and pensioners from
parliament,'1 — the propriety or impropriety of which is to be determined
by the same rules as the question of political influence. If influence is
necessary to the existence of the present form of government, and if that
influence is necessary in parliament, I see little ground to declaim against
the admission of placemen. In a purer state of society they would no
doubt be improper members, because then none ought to be members
who have any inducement to sacrifice the interests of the public to their
own. By the act of settlement indeed it was provided "That no person
who has an office or place of profit under the king, or receives a pension
from the crown, shall be capable of serving as member of the House of
Commons." The spirit of this provision is practically superseded, though
its letter so far operates that a king's counsel who receives a few pounds
a year as a salary from the crown is incapable of possessing a seat.
However, subsequently to the act of settlement various attempts were
* Some members who have owed their seats to patronage have, I behove, had the virtue to
stipulate for the freedom of their votes. Of this number it is said that the late Lord-chan
cellor Eldon was one.
t Opposition " had received a mortal wound by the death of the late Prince of Wales, some
of whose adherents had prudently sung their pahnodia to the ministry, and been gratified with
profitable employments ; while others, setting too great a price upon their own importance,
kept aloof till the market was over, and were left to pine in secret over their disappointed
ambition."— Smollett's England, v iii. p. 391 .
290 CONCLUSION. [ESSAY III.
made really to exclude the possessors of offices and pensions. Bill after
bill actually passed the House, but the measure was rejected and again
rejected by the lords. To pass such a bill in the present day, and to
act upon it, would probably be tantamount to an overthrow of the consti
tution.
It has sometimes been a subject of wonder to the writer, when reflect
ing upon the anxious solicitude of men for posthumous celebrity, that
this single motive has not induced more vigorous attempts on the part of
a minister to regulate his measures by a stricter regard to the dictates
of everlasting rectitude. I have wondered, because it is manifest from
experience that posterity will and does regard those dictates in its esti
mate of the honours of ihe dead. A very few years dismiss much of the
false colouring which temporary interests and politics throw over a
minister's conduct. It is ere long found that he obtains the largest share
of posthumous celebrity who has most constantly adhered to virtue. I
propose not the hope of this celebrity as a motive to the Christian ; he
has higher inducements : but I propose it to the man of ambition. The
simple love of fame would be, if he were rational with respect to his
own interests, a sufficient inducement to prefer that conduct which will
for ever recommend itself to the approbation of mankind. When we
shall see the statesman who has, in private and in public, but one standard
of rectitude, and that one the standard which is proposed in the gospel ;
the statesman who is convinced, and acts upon the conviction, that every
thing is wrong in the minister which would be wrong in the man ; we
shall see a statesman whom probably the clamour of to-day will call a
fool or a traitor, but whom good men now, and all men hereafter, will
regard as having attained almost to the pinnacle of virtue and honour, —
and whom God will receive with the sentence of Well done*
In concluding these brief disquisitions upon the British government, I
would be allowed to state the conviction, and to urge it upon those who
complain of its defects in theory or in practice, that there is nothing in
that theory or in that practice which warrants the attempt at amend
ment by any species of violence. I say this, even if I did not think, as
I do, that violence is unlawful upon other grounds. There are no evils
which make violence politically expedient. The right way of effecting
amendments is by enlightening the national mind, — by enabling the public
to think justly and temperately of political affairs. If to this temperate
and just judgment, any part of the practice or of the form of our govern
ment should appear clearly and unquestionably adverse to the general
good, it needs not to be feared that the corresponding alteration will be
made, — made by that best of all political agents, the power of deliberate
public opinion. " The will of the people, when it is determined, perma
nent, and general, almost always at length prevails."* And if it should
appear to the lover of his country, that the prevalence of this will is too
long delayed, let him take comfort in the recollection that less is lost by
the postponement of reformation, than would be lost in the struggle con
sequent upon intemperate measures.
* Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 7
CHAP. 9.] MORAL LEGISLATION. 291
CHAPTER IX.
MORAL LEGISLATION.
IF a person who considered the general objects of the institution of
civil government were to look over the titles of the acts of a legislature
during fifteen or twenty years, he would probably be surprised to find
the proportion so small of those of which it was the express object to
benefit the moral character of the people. He would find many laws
that respected foreign policy, many perhaps that referred to internal
political economy, many for the punishment of crime, — but few that
tended positively to promote the general happiness by increasing the
general virtue. This, I say, may be a reasonable subject of surprise,
when it is considered that the attainment of this happiness is the original
and proper object of all government. There is a general want of advert
ence to this object, arising, in part, perhaps, from the insufficient degree
of conviction that virtue is the best promoter of the general weal.
To prevent an evil is always better than to repair it : for which reason,
if it be in the power of the legislator to diminish temptation or its
influence, he will find that this is the most efficacious means of dimin
ishing the offences and of increasing the happiness of a people. He who
vigilantly detects and punishes vicious men does well ; but he who
prevents them from becoming vicious does better. It is better both for
a sufferer, for a culprit, and for the community, that a man's purse should
remain in his pocket, than that, when it is taken away, the thief should
be sure of a prison.
So far as is practicable, a government ought to be to a people what a
judicious parent is to a family, — not merely the ruler, but the instructer
and the guide. It is not perhaps so much in the power of a government
to form the character of a people to virtue or to vice, as it is in the power
of a parent to form that of hfe children. But much can be done if every
thing cannot be : and, indeed, when we take into account the relative
duration of the political body, as compared with that of a family, we may
have reason to doubt whether governments cannot effect as much in ages
as parents can do in years. — Now, a judicious father adopts a system of
moral culture as well as of restraint : he does not merely lop the vagrant
branches of his intellectual plant, but he trains and directs them in their
proper course. The second object is to punish vice, — the first to pro
mote virtue. You may punish vice without securing virtue ; but if you
secure virtue, the whole work is done.
Yet this primary object of moral legislation is that to which, compar
atively, little attention is paid. Penalties are multiplied upon the doers
of evil, but little endeavour is used to prevent the commission of evil by
inducing principles and habits which overpower the tendency to the
commission. In this respect, we begin to legislate at the secondary part
of our office, rather than at the first. We are political surgeons who cut
out the tumours in the state, rather than the prescribers of that whole-
T 2
292 EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE. [ESSAY III.
some regimen by which the diseases in the political body are pre
vented.
But here arises a difficulty : — How shall that political parent teach
virtue which is not virtuous itself? The governments of most nations,
however they may inculcate virtue in their enactments, preach it very
imperfectly by their example. What then is to be done ? " Make the
tree good." The first step in moral legislation is to rectify the legislator.
It holds of nations as of men, that the beam should be first removed out
of our own eye. Laws, in their insulated character, will be but partially
effectual, while the practical example of a government is bad. To this
consideration sufficient attention is not ordinarily paid. We do not
adequately estimate the influence of a government's example upon the
public character. Government is an object to which we look up as to
our superior ; and the many interests which prompt men to assimilate
themselves to the character of the government, added to the natural
tendency of subordinate parts to copy the example of the superior,
occasions the character of a government, independently of its particular
measures, to be of immense influence upon the general virtue. Illustra
tions abound. If, in any instance, political subserviency is found to be
a more efficient recommendation than integrity of character, it is easy to
perceive that subserviency is practically inculcated, and that integrity is
practically discouraged.
Among that portion, then, of a legislator's office which consists in
endeavouring the moral amelioration of a people, the amendment of
political institutions is conspicuous. In proportion to the greatness of
the influence of governments is the obligation to direct that influence in
favour of virtue. A government of which the principles and practice
were accordant with rectitude would very powerfully affect the general
morals. He, therefore, who explodes one vicious principle, or who
amends one corrupt practice, is to be regarded as among the most
useful and honourable of public men.
If, however, in any stale there are difficulties, at present insurmount
able, in the way of improving political institutions, still let us do what
we can. Precept without example may do some good r nor are we to
forget, that if the public virtue is increased, by whatever means, it will
react upon the governing power. A good people will not long tolerate
a bad government.
Among the most obvious means of rectifying the general morals by
positive measures, one is the encouraging a judicious education of the
peojKe. Upon this judiciousness almost all its success depends. The
great danger in undertaking a national system of education is that some
peculiar notions will be instilled for political purposes, and that it will be
converted into a source of patronage. In a word, the great danger is,
that national education should become, like national churches, an ally of
the state ; and if this is done, the system will inevitably become, if not
corrupt, lamentably alloyed with corruption. It does not seem as if the
people of this country would countenance any endeavour to institute an
education like this, because an attempt has been made, and the public
voice was lifted successfully against it. A government, if it would
rightly provide for the education of the community, must forget the
peculiarities of creeds, political or religious. It must regard itself, not
as the head of a party, but as the parent of the people.
We know that schools exist which impart an important and valuable
CHAP. 9.] THE BIBLE SOCIETY. 293
education to the poor, and to which men of all principles and all creeds
are willing to subscribe. Here is effected much good with little or no
evil. The great defect is in the limited extent of the good. The public
cannot, or do not, give enough of their money to provide education for all.
Is there then any sufficient reason why a government should not supply
the deficiency ; or why it should not undertake the whole, and leave
private bounty to flow in other channels ? The great difficulty is to
provide for the purity of the employment of the funds : for this employ
ment may be made an ally of the petty politics of a town, as the whole
institution may be made an ally of the state. However, as the annual
grants to almost all such institutions would be small, it might perhaps
escape that universal bane. One thing would be indispensable, — to
provide that the authority by which appointments to masterships, <fec. are
made should be studiously constituted with a view to the exclusion of
every motive but the single object of the institution. Whether it is
possible to exclude improper motives may be doubted ; but it is perhaps
as possible to exclude them from those as from the many institutions
which the public money now supports. There is one way indeed in
which education may be promoted with little danger of this petty cor
ruption, — by the purchase of land and erection of school-houses. This,
together with the supply of books and the like, forms a principal item in
the expense of these schools ; and it might be hoped that if the govern
ment did this, the public would do the remainder.
But you say, all this will add to the national burdens. We need not
be very jealous on this head, while we are so little jealous of more money
worse spent. Is it known, or is it considered, that the expense of an
ordinary campaign would endow a school in every parish in England and
Ireland for ever ? Yet how coolly (who will contradict me if I say,
how needlessly ?) we devote money to conduct a campaign ! — Prevent,
by a just and conciliating policy, one single war, and the money thus
saved would provide, perpetually, a competent mental and moral educa
tion for every individual who needs it in the three kingdoms. Let a man
for a moment indulge his imagination, — let him rather indulge his reason,
in supposing that one of our wars during the last century had been avoided,
and that, fifty years ago, such an education had been provided. Of what
comparative importance is the war to us now ? In the one case, the
money has provided the historian with materials to fill his pages with
armaments, and victories, and defeats ; it has enabled us
To point a moral or adorn a tale :
— in the other, it would have effected, and would be now effecting, and
would be destined for ages to effect, a great amount of solid good ; a
great increase of the virtue, the order, and the happiness of the people.
I suppose that the British and Foreign Bible Society, during the twenty
or thirty years that it has existed, has done more direct good in the world,
— has had a greater effect in meliorating the condition of the human
species, — than all the measures which have been directed to the same
ends of all the prime ministers in Europe during a century. But sup
pose much less than this, — suppose it has done more good than the moral
measures of any one court, and will not this single and simple fact prove
that much more is in the power of the legislator than he is accustomed
to think ; and prove, too, that there is an unhappy want of advertence
among the conductors of governments, to some of the most interesting
294 ABROGATION OF BAD LAWS. [ESSAY III.
and important duties of their office ? With what means has this amount
of moral good in all quarters of the earth been effected? — Why with
a revenue that never amounted to a hundred thousand pounds in any one
year ! A sum which, if we compare it with sums that are expended for
measures of very questionable utility, is really trifling. Supposing that
the legislature of this country had given an annual fifty thousand pounds
to this institution, no man surely will dispute that the sums would have
done incalculably more good in our own country — to say nothing of the
world — than fifty thousand pounds of public money ordinarily effects. In
passing, it may be observed, too, that such an appropriation of money by
a government would probably do much in propitiating the friendliness
and good offices of other nations.
" No consideration of emolument can be put in competition with the
morals of a nation ; and no minister can be justified, either on civil or
religious grounds, in rendering the latter subservient to the former."* Such
a truth should be brought into practical operation. If it had been, lotteries
in England had not been so long endured, — if it were, the prodigious mul-
itudes of public-houses would not be endured now. That these haunts
and schools of vice are pernicious no one doubts. Why is an excess of
hem permitted ? — They increase the revenue. "Emolument is put in
competition with morals," and it prevails. Even on grounds of political
economy, however, the evil is great, — for they diminish the effective
labour of the population. If to this we add the multitudes whom the
idleness of drunkards throws upon the parishes, perhaps as much is
really lost in wealth by this pennywise policy as is lost in virtue. Be
sides, all needless alehouse-keepers are dead weights upon the national
industry. They contribute as little to the wealth of the state as he who
lives upon the funds.
" It would be no injustice," says Playfair, " if publicans were pre
vented from legal recovery for beer or spirits consumed in their houses ;
in the same manner that payment cannot be enforced of any person
under twenty-one years of age, except for necessaries. "f This, however,
were to attempt to cure one evil by another. It were a practical encour
agement of continual fraud. The short and simple way is to refuse
licenses, and to take care that those who have the power of licensing
shall exercise it justly.
This sound proposition, that neither on " civil nor religious grounds"
is it right to consult policy at the expense of morals, is, as we have seen,
at the basis of political truth. Here, then, let political truth be applied.
It will be found, by the far-seeing legislator, to be expedient as well as
right.
Bishop Warburton says, " Though a multiplication of good laws does
nothing against a general corruption of manners, yet the abrogation of
bad ones greatly promotes reformation."* The truth of the first clause
is very disputable : the last is unquestionably true. This abrogation of
bad laws forms a very important part of moral legislation ; and, unhap
pily, it is a part which there are peculiar difficulties in effecting. There
are few bad laws of which there are not some persons who are inter-
* Gifford : Life of Pitt. f Causes of Decline of Nations, 4to. p. 226.
J Letters to Bishop Kurd, No. 32.
CHAP. 9.J PRIMOGENITURE. 295
ested in the continuance. The interests of these persons, the supine-
ness of others, the pride of a third class, and the superstitious attach
ments of a fourth to ancient things, occasion many laws to remain on the
statute books of nations long after their perniciousness has been ascer
tained.
Thus it has happened in our own country with respect to the game-
laws. It is perfectly certain that they greatly increase the. vices of the
people, and yet they remain unrepealed. Why ? Voluble answers can
no doubt be given, but they will generally be resolvable into vanity or
selfishness. The legislator who shall thoroughly amend the game-laws
(perhaps thorough amendment will not be far from abolition) will be a
greater benefactor to his country than multitudes who are rewarded with
offices and coronets.
Thus too it has happened with the system of primogeniture. The
two great effects of this system are, h'rst, to increase the inequality of
property, and next to perpetuate the artificial distinctions of rank.
That the existing inequality of property is a great political and moral
evil it was attempted in the third chapter of the preceding essay to
show. The means of diminishing this inequality, which in that chapter
were urged as an obligation of private life, are not likely to be fully
effectual so long as the law encourages its continuance. A man who
possesses an estate in land dies without a will. He has two sons. Why
should the law declare that one of these should be rich and the other
poor ? Is it reasonable ? Is it just ? As to its reasonableness, I discover
no conceivable reason why, because one brother is born a twelvemonth be
fore another, he should possess ten times as much property as the younger.
Affection dictates equality ; and in such cases the dictate of affection is
commonly the dictate of reason. We have seen what antecedently to in
quiry we might expect, that the practical effects are bad. Civil laws ought,
as moral guides of the community, to discourage great inequality of prop
erty. How then shall we sufficiently deplore a system which expressly
encourages and increases it ! Some time ago (and probably at the present
day) the laws of Virginia did not permit one son to inherit the landed
estates of his father to the exclusion of his brothers. The effect was
beneficial, for it actually diminished the disparity of property.* We,
however, not only do not forbid the descent of estates to one son, but
we actually ordain it. It were sufficient, surely, to allow private vanity
to have its own will in «« keeping up a family" at the expense of sense
and virtue, without encouraging it to do this by legal enactments when
it might otherwise be more wise. The descent of intestates' estates in
land to the elder son has the effect of an example, and of inducing
vicious notions upon those who make their wills. That which is habit
ual to the mind as a provision of the law acquires a sort of sanction and
fictitious propriety, by which it is recommended to the public.
The partial distribution of intestates' estates is, however, only of casual
operation. Of the laws which make certain estates inalienable, or,
which is not very different, allow the present possessor to entail them,
the effect is constant and habitual. To prevent a reasonable and good
man from making that division of his property which reason and good-
* The Virginians singularly confounded good moral legislation with bad, for they made a
law declaring all landed property inviolable. The consequence was what might have been
expected : many got into debt, and remained quietly on their estates, laughing at their
creditors.
296 PRIMOGENITURE. [ESSAY III
ness prescribe is a measure which, if it be adopted, ought surely to be
recommended by very powerful considerations. And what are they, —
except that they enable or oblige a man to keep up the splendour of his
family ? Splendour of family ! Oh to what an ignis fatuus, to what a
pitiable scheme of vanity, are affection, and reason, and virtue obliged to
bow ! Where is the man who will stand forward and affirm that this
splendour is dictated by a regard to the proper dignity of our nature ?
Where is he who will affirm that it is dictated by sound principles
of virtue ? Where, especially, is he who will affirm that it is dictated by
religion ? It has nothing to do with religion, nor virtue, nor human dig
nity : religion despises it as idly vain ; morality reprobates it as sacri
ficing sense and affection to vanity ; dignity rejects it as a fictitious and
unworthy substitute for itself. Yet, perhaps, this humiliating motive of
vanity is the most powerful of those which induce attachment to the
system of primogeniture, or which would occasion opposition to attempts
at reform. Perhaps it will be said, that to make the real estate of a man
inalienable is really a kindness to his successors, by preventing him from
squandering it away ; to which the answer is, that there is no more
reason for preventing the extravagance of those who possess much prop
erty than of those who possess little. No legislature thinks of enacting
that a man who has two thousand pounds in the funds shall not sell it
and spend it if he thinks fit. In general, men take care of their property
without compulsion from the law ; and if it is affirmed that the heads of
great families are more addicted to this profusion and extravagance than
other men, it will only additionally show the mischiefs of excessive
possessions. Why should they be more addicted to it unless the tempta
tions of greatness are unusually powerful and unusually prevail ?
But it will be said that the system is almost necessary to an order
of nobility. I am sorry for it. If, as is probably at present the case,
that order is expedient in the political constitution, and if its weight in
the constitution must be kept up by the system of primogeniture, I do not
affirm that, with respect to the peerage, this system should be at present
abolished. But then let the enlightened man consider whither these
considerations lead him. If a system essentially irrational and injurious
is indispensable to a certain order of mankind, what is it but to show
that, in the constitution of that order itself, there is something inherently
wrong ? Something that, if the excellence of mankind were greater, it
would be found desirable to amend ? Nor here, in accordance with that
fearless pursuit of truth, whether welcome or unwelcome, which I pro
pose to myself in these pages, can I refrain from the remark, that in
surveying from different points the constituent principles of an order of
peers, we are led to one and the same conclusion, — that there is in these
principles something really and inherently wrong; something which
adapts the order to an imperfect, and only to an imperfect, state of man
kind.
If then we grant the propriety of an exception in the case of the
peerage, we do not grant it with respect to other men. Much may be
done to diminish the inequality of property, and with it to diminish the
vices of a people, by abolishing the system of primogeniture except in the
case of peers.
Of so great ill consequence is excessive wealth, and the effect to
which it tends, excessive poverty, that a government might perhaps
rightly discountenance the accumulation of extreme personal property.
CHAP. 10.] ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE. 297
Probably there is no means of doing this, without an improper encroach
ment upon liberty, except by some regulations respecting wills. I per
ceive nothing either unreasonable or unjust in refusing a probate for an
amount exceeding a certain sum. Supposing the law would allow no man
to bequeath more than a given sum, what would be the ill effect ? That
it would discourage enterprising industry ? That industry is of little*
use which extends its desires of accumulation to an amount that has no
limit. The man of talent and application, after he has so far benefited
himself and his country by his exertions or inventions as to acquire such
property as would procure for him all the accommodations of life which
he could rationally enjoy, may retire from the accumulation of more,
and leave the result of his talents to bring comfort and competence to
other men. It may be said that a man might still accumulate a larger
sum to dispose of before his death. So he might : but few would do it.
Of those who are ambitious of so much more than conduces to the wel
fare of themselves and their children, few would continue to toil in order
to give it away. Benevolence does not generally form a part of the
motives to such accumulation. If once the law refused the bequest of
more than a h'xed sum, by appropriating the excess to the exigencies of
the state, or to measures of public utility, men would learn to set limits
to their desires. That restless pursuit of wealth which is pernicious to
the pursuer and to other men would be powerfully checked ; and he who
had acquired enough might habitually give place to the many who had
too little. — The writer of these pages makes no pretensions to a know
ledge of the minute details of moral legislation. It is his business, in a
case like this, while enforcing the end only to suggest the means. Other
and better means of diminishing the inequality of property than those
which have just been alluded to, may probably be discovered by prac
tical men. But of the end itself it becomes the writer of morality to
speak with earnestness and with confidence.* It admits of neither dis
pute nor doubt, that in our own country and in many others there subsist
extremes of wealth and poverty which are highly injurious to private
virtue and to the public good ; and therefore it admits neither of dispute
nor doubt, that the endeavour to diminish these extremes is an important
^ unhappy, that it is also a neglected /) branch of moral legislation.
CHAPTER X.
ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE.
IN considering this great subject, the inquirer after truth is presented,
as upon some kindred subjects, with one great pervading difficulty. If
he applies the conclusions of abstract truth, such is the imperfect condi
tion of mankind, that it loses a portion of its practical adaptation to its
* The legal division of the personal property of intestate? admits of easy amendment.
Two men die, of whom each leaves six thousand pounds behind him. One has a wife and
one child, and the other a wife and eight children. It can hardly be rational to give to the
widow in both these cases the same share of the property. In one or two nations the law
gives a third of the income of the real estates, in addition, to the widow ; but better regula
tions even than this were easily devised.
13
298 SUBSTITUTION OF JUSTICE FOR LAW. [£SSAY III,
object. If he deviates from this truth, where shall he seek for a director
of his judgment? He is left to roam among endless speculations,
where nothing is to be found with the impress of certain rectitude.
The dictate of simple truth respecting the administration of justice
is, that if two men differ upon a question of property or of right, that
decision should be made between them which justice, in that specific
case, requires ; that if a person has committed a public offence, that
punishment should be awarded which his actual deserts and the proper
objects of punishment demand.
But if this truth is applied in the present state of society, it is found
so difficult to obtain judges who will apply the sound principles of equity,
judges who will exercise absolute discretionary power without improper
biases, that the inquirer is fearful to pronounce a judgment respecting the
rule which should regulate the administration of justice.
Men, seeing the difficulties to which an attempt to administer simple
equity is exposed, have advanced as a fundamental maxim, — that the law
shall be made by one set of men, and its execution intrusted to another, —
thus endeavouring, on the one hand, to prevent rules from being made
under the bias resulting from the contemplation of particular cases, and
on the other, to preclude the appliers of the rules from the influence of
the same bias, by obliging them to decide according to a preconcerted law.
But when we have gone thus far, — when we have allowed that ques
tions between man and man shall be decided by a rule that is independent
of the merits of the present case, we have departed far from the pure
dictate of rectitude. We have made the standard to consist, not of jus
tice, but of law ; and having done this, we have opened wide the door to
the entrance of injustice. And it does enter indeed !
The consideration of this state of things indicates one satisfactory
truth, — that we should pursue the rule of abstract rectitude to the utmost
of our power; that we should constantly keep in view, that whatever
decision is made upon any other ground than that of simple justice, it is
so far defeating the object for which courts of justice are established ; and
therefore, that in whatever degree it is practicable to find men who will
decide every specific question according to the dictates of justice upon
that question, in the same degree it is right to supersede the application
of inferior principles.
Am I then sacrificing the fundamental principles upon which the
morality of these essays is founded ? Am I, at last, conceding that expe
diency ought to take precedence of rectitude ? No : but I am saying,
that if the state of human virtue is such that not one can be found to
judge justly between his brethren, — men must judge as justly as they can,
and a legislator must contrive such boundaries and checks for those who
have to administer justice, as shall make the imperfection of human virtue
as little pernicious as he may. If this virtue were perfect, courts of law
might perhaps safely and rightly be shut up. There would be a rule of
judgment preferable to law ; and law itself, so far as it consists of abso
lute rules for the direction of decisions between man and man, might
almost be done away.
Now, in considering the degree in which this great desideratum — the
substitution of justice for law — can be effected, let us be especially care
ful that we throw no other impediments in the way of justice than those
which are interposed by the want of purity in mankind. Let us never
regard a system of administering justice as fixed, so that its maxims shall
CHIP. 10.] INADEQUACY OF FIXED RULES. 299
not be altered whenever an increase of purity dictates that an alteration
may be made. All the existing national systems of administering justice
are imperfect and alloyed ; a mixture of evil and good. It were sorrow
ful indeed to assume that they cannot be, or to provide that they shall
not be, amended.
The system in this country, like most systems which are the gradual
accretion of the lapse of ages, is incongruous in its different parts. In
the decisions that are founded upon legal technicalities, the method of
applying absolute uniform law is adopted. In the assessment of dam
ages there is exercised very great discretionary power. In pronouncing
verdicts upon prisoners, juries are scarcely allowed any discretion at all.
They say absolutely either not guilty or guilty. — Then again, discre
tion is intrusted to the judge, and he may pronounce sentences of impris
onment or of transportation, varying according to his judgment in their
duration or circumstances. The reader should well observe this admis
sion of discretionary power to the judicial court, because it is a practical
acknowledgment that considerations of equity are indispensable to the
administration of justice, whatever may be the multiplicity or precision
of the laws. Our judges are intrusted, on the 'circuits, with the discre
tionary power of commuting capital punishments or leaving the offender
for execution. This is equivalent to an acknowledgment, that even the
most tremendous sanctions of the state are more safely applied upon
principles of equity than upon principles of law. Let the reader bear
this in his mind.
Of the general tendency and attendant evils of uniform law, some
illustrations have been offered in the preceding essay, and some observa
tions have been offered in the chapter on Arbitration, on the advantages
of administering justice upon principles of equity, that is, by a large
discretionary power. Now it will be our business to inquire into some
of the reasonings by which the application of uniform law is recom
mended, to illustrate yet further the moral claims of courts of equity,
and to show if we can that some greater approximation to the adoption
of these courts is practicable even in the present condition of mankind.
The administration of justice according to a previously made rule
labours under this fundamental objection, — that it assumes a knowledge
in the maker of the rule which he does not possess. It assumes that he
can tell beforehand, not only what is a good decision in a certain class of
questions, but what is the best. And the objection appears so much the
more palpable, because it assumes that a party who judges a case before
it exists can better tell what is justly due to an offended or an offending
person than" those who hear all the particulars of the individual case.
This objection, which it is evident can never be got over, is practically
felt and acknowledged. Every relaxation of a strict adherence to the
law, every concession of discretionary power to juries or to courts, is an
acknowledgment of the inherent inadequacy and impropriety of fixed
rules. You perceive that no fixed rules can define and discriminate justly
for specific cases. Multiply them as you may, the gradations in the
demands for equitable decision will multiply yet faster ; so that you are
forced at last to concede something to equity, though perhaps there has
not hitherto been conceded enough. Our court of Chancery was origin
ally, and still is, called a court of equity, — the erection of which court
is paying a sort of tacit homage to equity as superior to law, and making
a sort of tacit acknowledgment how imperfect and inefficient the funda-
300 INADEQUACY OF FIXED LAWS. [ESSAY III.
mental principles of fixed law are. It is perhaps a subject of regret that
this court is now a court of equity rather in name than in fact. It proceeds
in a great degree according to the rule of precedent, — one of the prin
cipal differences between its practical character and that of legal courts
being, that in one a jury decides questions, and in the other a judge.
And, after all, the fixedness of the la\v is much less in practice than in
theory. We all know how various and contradictory are the " opinions"
of legal men ; so that a person may present his " case" to three or four
able lawyers in succession, and receive from each a different answer.
Nay, if several should agree when they are applied to as judges in the
case, it is found, when a person comes into court, that counsel can find
legal arguments, and unanswerable arguments too, on both sides of the
question, — till at last the question is decided, not by a fixed law. bat by a
preponderance of weight of conflicting precedents. Indeed the unfixed-
ness of the law is practically so jireat that common fame has made it a
proverb.
Another inconvenience which is inseparable from the use of fixed rules
is, that they almost preclude a court from attending sufficiently to one very
important point in the administration of justice, the intention of offending
parties. Law says, if a man steals another person's watch, under such
and such circumstances, he shall receive such and such a punishment.
Yet the guilt of two men who steal watches under the same visible cir
cumstances is often totally disproportionate ; and this disproportion indi
cates the propriety of corresponding gradations of penalty. Yet fixed
law awards the same penalty to both. If it is said that a court may take
intention and motives into the account in its sentence ; — so it may;but in
whatever degree it does this, in the same degree it acknowledges thft
incompetency and inaptitude of fixed laws
*' The motives and intentions of the parties." When we consider that
the personal guilt of a man depends more upon these than upon his aimple
acts, and consequently that these rather than his acts indicate his deserts,
it appears desirable that human tribunals should measure their punish
ments as much by a reference to actual deserts as is consistent with the
public good. I would not undertake to affirm that the guilt of the offender
is, to us, the ultimate standard, of just punishment, because it may be
necessary to the prevention of crimes, that of two offences equal in guilt,
one should be punished more severely than another, on account of the
greater facilities for its commission, — that is, on account of the greater
impracticability of guarding against the offence, or of detecting the offender
after it is committed. But, in speaking of the propriety of adverting
to intention, this is not the point in view. I speak not of the difference
between two classes of crimes, but of the actual motives, inducements,
and temptations of the individual offender. Stealing five pounds' worth of
property in sheep, although it may be no more vicious, as an act, than
stealing a five-pound note from the person, may perhaps be rightly visited
with a severer punishment. This is one thing. But two men may each
steal a sheep with very different degrees of personal guilt. This is
another. And this is the point of which we speak. A man who is able
to maintain himself in respectability, but will not apply himself to an
honest occupation ; who lives by artifices, or frauds, or thefts, or gam
bling, or contracting debts, watches night after night an opportunity to
carry off sheep from an-enclosure. He succeeds, and spends the value in
drunkenness or at a bagnio. A man of decent character who, in a period
CHAP. 10.] SECURITY OF PROPERTY. 30l
of distress, endeavours in vain to procure employment or bread ; who
pawns day after day his furniture, his clothing, his bed, to obtain food for
his children and his wife ; who finds, at last, that all is gone, and that
hunger continues its demands, — passes a sheep-field. The thought of
robbing starts suddenly before him, and he as suddenly executes it He
carries home the meat, and is found by the police hastily cutting slices
for his voracious family. Ought these two men to receive the same pun
ishment ? It is impossible. Justice, common sense, Christianity, forbid
it. We cannot urge, in such cases, that human tribunals, being unable
to penetrate the secret motives of action, must leave it to the Supreme
Being to apportion punishment, strictly, to guilt. We can discover,
though not the exact amount of guilt, a great deal of difference between
its degrees. We do actually know, that of two persons who commit the
same crime, one is often much more criminal than another. And were
it not that our jurisprudence habituates us so much to refer simply to acts
we might know much more than we do. We are often ignorant of mo
tives only because we do not inquire for them. A law says, " If any
person shall enter a field and steal a sheep or horse, he shall suffer death ;"
and so, when a court comes to try a man charged with the act, they per
haps scarcely think of any other consideration than whether he stole the
animal or not. Of ten who do thus steal, no two probably deserve exactly
the same punishment ; and some, undoubtedly, deserve much less than
others.
Discrimination then is necessary to the demands alike of humanity,
and reason, and religion. But how shall sufficient discrimination be
exercised under a system of fixed laws ? If the decisions of courts must
be regulated by the acts of the offender, how shall they take into account
those endless gradations of personal desert, to refer to which is a sine
qua non of the administration of justice. Now, in order to satisfy these
demands, courts must by some means be intrusted with a greater discre
tionary power ; or, which is the same thing, decisions upon maxims of
equity must in a greater degree take the place of decisions regulated by
law.
The next great objection is, that to place, for example, men's property
at the discretion of a court of equity that was not bound down by fixed
rules, would make the possession of every man's property uncertain.
Nobody would know whether the estate which he and his fathers en
joyed might not to-morrow, by the decision of some court of equity, be
taken away. But this supposes that the decisions of these courts would
be arbitrary and capricious ; whereas the supposition upon which we
set out, — the supposition upon which alone we reason, — is, that means can
he devised by which their decisions shall be, generally at least, accordant
with rectitude. They must deviate very widely from rectitude if they
took away a man's estate without some reason which appeared to them to
be good ; and it could hardly appear to be good, on a full hearing of the
case, unless the merits of 'that case were very questionable: — but in pro
portion to that questionableness would be the smallness of the grievance
if the estate were taken away. Let any man suppose a case for him
self: — he possesses a house to which no one ever disputed his title, till
some person chooses to bring his title before a court of equity, — of the
members of which court the possessor nominates one-half: does any
man in his senses suppose that the property would be endangered ? or
rather, does any man suppose that a person would be foolish enough to
802 INCREASE OF LITIGATION. [ESSAY III.
call the title in question? — But we must repeat the other alternative. If
a person holds an estate by a decision of law which he would not have
held by a decision of rectitude, we do not listen to his complaints though
it be taken away. It is just what we desire.
It has been contended, that to depart further from the system of decid
ing by law would tend to the increase of litigation ; that nothing pre
vents litigation so much as previous certainty of the rule of decision ;
and that if, instead of this certainty, the decision of a court were left to
a species of chance, there would be litigation without end. But in this
argument it is not sufficiently considered, that previous certainty of the
rule of decision is very imperfectly possessed, — that, as we have just
been observing, the law is not fixed ; and consequently, that that discou
ragement of litigation which would arise out of previously known rules
very imperfectly operates. Nor, again, is it enough considered, that the
decision of a court of equity, if properly constituted, would not be a
matter of chance, nor any thing that is like it. Though a legal rule
would not bind a court> still it would be bound, — bound by the dictates —
commonly the very intelligible dictates — of right and wrong. " Reason,"
it has been said, " is a thousand times more explicit and intelligible than
law ;" and if reason were not more intelligible, still the moral judgments
in the mind assuredly are. — Again, many causes are now brought into
courtr not because they are morally good, but legally good. Of this the
contending parties are often conscious, and they would therefore be con
scious that a court which regulated its decisions by the moral qualities
of a case would decide against them. At present, when a man contem
plates a lawsuit, he has to judge as well as he can of the probability of
success, by inquiring into the rules of law and decisions of former cases.
If a court of equity were to be the judge, he would have to appeal to a
much nearer and more determinate ground of probability, — to his own
consciousness of the justness of his cause. We are therefore to set the
discouragement of litigation which arises from this source against that
"which arises from the supposed fixedness of law ; and I am disposed to
conclude, that in a well-constituted court this discouragement would be
practically the greater. Another point is this : It is unhappily certain,
that either the ignorance or the cupidity of some legal men prompts many
to engage in lawsuits who have little even of legal reason to hope for
success. This cause of litigation . equity would do away : a lawyer
would not be applied to, for a lawyer would have no better means of
foreseeing the probable decision of a court of equity than another man.
Here, too, it is to be remembered that the great, what if I say the cry
ing, evils of the present state of legal practice, result from the employ
ment of fixed laws. It has indeed been acknowledged by an advocate
of these laws, that they " erect the practice of the law into a separate
profession."* Now suppose all the evils, all the expenses, all the dis
position to litigation and dispute, all the practical injustice, which results
from this profession were done away, — would not the benefit be very
great 1 Would it not be a great advantage to the quiet, and the pockets,
and the virtue of the nation ? I regard this one circumstance as forming
a recommendation of equity so powerful, that serious counterbalancing
evils must be urged to overcome its weight. Even to the political econo
mist the dissolution or great diminution of the profession is of some in>
* Paley : Mor. and Pol. PhiL b 6, c. 8.
CHAP. 10.] FIXED LAWS AND PRECEDENTS. 303
portance. I am no proficient in his science ; but it requires little pro
ficiency to discover, that the existence of a large number of persons who
not only contribute little to the national prosperity, but often deduct Irom
it, is no trifling evil in a state. But it is not simply as it respects the
profession that fixed laws are thus injurious. They are the great ultimate
occasion of those obstacles to the attainment of justice which are felt
to be a grievance in almost all civilized nations. The delays, and the
expenses, and the undefined annoyances of vexation and disappointment,
deter many from seeking their just rights. Delays are occasioned in a
great degree by forms ; and forms are a part of the system of fixed laws :
— expenses are entailed by the necessity of complying with these forms,
and of employing those persons whose knowledge is requisite to tell us
what those forms are ; and the acquisition cf this knowledge requires so
much time and care, that he who imparts it must be well paid. As to
indeterminate vexations and disappointments, they too result principally
from the fixedness of rules. A man with a cause of unquestioned recti
tude is too often denied justice on account of the intervention of some
absolute rule — that has little or no relevance to the question of rectitude.
Persons fearing these various evils decline to endeavour the attainment
of their just rights, — rights which, if equity were in a greater degree
substituted for law, would be of comparatively easy attainment.
The reader can hardly too vigorously impress upon his mind the con
sideration, that the various sacrifices of rectitude which are made under
colour of the legality of people's claims, result from the system of fixed
laws. If to avail one's self of an informality in a will to defraud the
claims of justice be wrong, — the evil and the temptation is to be laid at
the door of fixed law. If an undoubted criminal escapes justice merely
because he cannot legally be convicted, the evil — which is serious — is to
be laid at the door of fixed law. And so of a hundred other cases, —
cases of which the aggregate ill consequence is so great as to form a
weighty objection to whatever system may occasion them.
I make little distinction between deciding by fixed law and by prece
dents, because the principles of both are the same, and both, it is prob
able, will stand or fall together. Precedents are laws — but of somewhat
Ifiss absolute authority : which indeed they ought to be, since they are
made by courts of justice, and not by the legislature. They are a sort
of supplemental statutes, which attempt to supply (what however can
never be supplied) the deficiencies of fixed laws. A statute is a general
rule ; a precedent prescribes a case in which that rule shall be observed ;
but a thousand cases still arise which neither statute nor precedent can
reach.
So habitual is become our practice of judging questions rather by a
previously made rule than by their proper merits, that even the House of
Lords, which is the highest court of equity in the state, searches out,
when a question is brought before it, its precedents ! Long debates
ensue upon the parallelism of decisions a century or two ago ; when, if
the merits of the case only were regarded, perhaps not an hour would be
spent in the decision. Then the House- is cramped, and made jealous lest
its present vote should be a precedent for another decision fifty years to
come. New debates are started as to the bearing of the precedent upon
some imagined question in after times ; and at last the decision is regu
lated perhaps as much by fears of distant consequences as by a regard
to present rectitude. Do away precedents, and the House might pursue,
304 VERDICTS— LEGAL PROOF—PARDONS. [ESSAY III.
unshackled, the dictate of virtue. And, after all, when precedents are
sought and found, the House usually acts upon the opinion of its legal
members, — thus subverting the very nature of a court of equity. It would
seem the rational and consistent course, that in the House of Lords,
when it constitutes such a court, the law lords should be almost the last
to give a sentiment ; for if it be to be decided by lawyers, to what pur
pose is it brought to the House of Peers ?
And another inconvenience of fixed law — or at any rate of fixed laws
such as ours are — is, that in cases of criminal trials the jury are bound
down, as we have before noticed, to an absolute verdict either to acquit
the prisoner of all crime, and exempt him from all punishment, or to de
clare that he is guilty, and leave him to the sentence of the court, Now,
since many verdicts are founded upon a balance of probabilities,— proba
bilities which leave the juror's mind uncertain of the prisoner's guilt, it
would seem the dictate of reason that corresponding verdicts should be
given. If it is quite certain that a man has stolen a watch, it seems
reasonable that he should receive a greater punishment than he of whom
it is only highly probable that he has stolen it. But the verdict in each
case is the same, — till, as the probability diminishes, the minds of the
jury at last preponderate on the other side, and they pronounce an abso
lute verdict of acquittal. From this state of things it happens that some
are punished more severely than the amount of probability warrants, and
that many are not punished at all, because there is no alternative to the
jury between absolute acquittal and absolute conviction. Now, the im
perfection of human judgment, the impossibility of penetrating always
into the real facts and motives of men, indicates that some penalties
may justly be awarded even though a court entertains doubts of a pris
oner's guilt. Man must doubt because he cannot know. We may rightly
therefore proceed upon probabilities, and punish upon probabilities ; so*
that we should not wholly exempt a man from punishment because we
are not sure that he is guilty, nor inflict a certain stipulated amount of it
because we are only strongly persuaded that he is. Punishment may
rightly then be regulated by probabilities : but how shall this be done
without a large discretionary power in those who judge ? And how shall
such discretionary power be exercised while we act upon the maxims of
fixed law?
The requisition of what is called legal proof is one result of fixed law
that is attended with much evil. It not unfrequently happens that a
man who claims a right adduces such evidence of its validity that the
court — that every man — is convinced he ought to possess it : but there
is some deficiency in that precise kind of proof which the law prescribes ;
and so, in deference to law, justice is turned away. It is the same with
crimes. Crimes are sometimes proved to the satisfaction of every one
who hears the evidence ; but because there is some want of strict legal
proof, the criminal is again turned loose upon society. Such things
decisions founded upon equity would do away. All that the court would
require would be a satisfactory conviction of the prisoner's guilt, or of
the claimant's rights ; and having obtained that satisfaction, it would
decide accordingly.
Here, too, a consideration is suggested respecting the prerogative
which is vested in the crown of pardoning offenders. The crown, if
any, is doubtless the right repository of this prerogative ; but it is not
obvious, upon principles of equity, that any repository is right. If aa
CHAP. 10.] ARBITRATION. 305
offender deserves punishment, he ought to receive it, — and if he does not
deserve it, no sentence ought to be passed upon him. This, of which
the truth is very obvious, simply considered, is only untrue when you
introduce fixed laws. These fixed laws require you to deliver a verdict,
and when it is delivered, to pass a sentence ; and then, finding your
sentence is improper or unjust, you are obliged to go to a court of equity
to remedy the evil. Why should we pass a sentence if it is not deserved?
Why is a sentence the indispensable consequence of a verdict ? Why
rather is a formal verdict pronounced at all ? There appears in the view
of equity no need for all these forms. What we want is to assign to an
offender his due punishment; and when no other is assigned, there is
no need for prerogatives of pardon.
Proceeding then upon the conviction that law as distinguished from
justice is attended witli many evils, let us inquire whether the obstacles
to decisions by considerations of justice are insuperable. Now I do
believe that many of the objections which suggest themselves to an
inquirer's mind are really adventitious, — that the administration of simple
justice may be detached from many of those inconveniences which attach
no doubt to ill-constituted discretionary courts. — So confident has been
the objection to decisions upon rules of equity, that Dr. Paley, in the
eighth chapter of the political division of his Philosophy, has these words :
" The first maxim of a free state is, that the laws be made by one set
of men, and administered by another. — When these offices are united
in the same person or assembly, particular laws are made for particular
cases, springing oftentimes from partial motives, and directed to private
ends." But if these partial motives and private ends can be wholly or
in a great degree excluded, the objection which is founded upon them is
in a great degree or wholly at an end. If these offices are united in any
person or assembly, appointed or constituted as the administerers of jus
tice now are, I doubt not that partial motives and private ends would pre
vail. But the necessity for this is merely assumed ; and upon this assump
tion Paley proceeds : " Let it be supposed that the courts of West
minster Hall made their own laws, or that the two houses of parliament
with the king at their head, tried and decided causes at their bar," —
then, he says, the inclinations of the judges would inevitably attach on
one side or the other, and would interfere with the integrity of justice.
No doubt this would happen ; but because this would happen to the
courts of Westminster Hall or to the legislative assemblies, it does not
follow that it would happen to all arbitrators however appointed. — Thus
it is that the mind, habitually associating ideas which may reasonably be
separated, founds its conclusions, not upon the proper and essential
merits of the question, but upon the question as it is accidentally brought
before it. The proper ground on which to seek objections to decision
on rules of equity is, not in the want of adaptation of present judicial
institutions, but on the impracticability of framing institutions in which
these rules might safely prevail ; and this impracticability has never,
so far as the writer knows, been shown.
Now, without assigning the extent to which arbitration may eventually
take place of law, or the degree in which it may be adopted in the pres
ent state of any country, it may be asked, — since a large number of
disagreements are actually settled by arbitration, that is by rules of
equity, why may not that number be greatly increased ? It is common in
cases of partnership, and other agreements between several parties, to
30/J COURTS OF ARBITRATION. [ESSAY III.
stipulate that if a difference arises it shall be settled by arbitrators. It
must be presumed that this mode of settling is regarded as the best, else
why formally stipulate for it ? The superiority loo must be discovered
by experience. It is then in fact found that a great number of questions
of property and other concerns are settled more cheaply and more satisfac
torily by equity than by law. Why then, we repeat, may not that number
be indefinitely increased, or who will assign a limit to its increase ? —
Now the constitution of these efficient courts of equity is not permanent.
They are not composed of judges previously appointed to decide all dis
putes. They are not composed, as the courts of Westminster Hall are,
or as the houses of parliament are, or as benches of magistrates are. If
they were, they would be open to the undue influence and private pur
poses of those who composed them. But the members of these courts
are appointed by the disputants themselves, or by some party to whom
they mutually agree to commit the appointment. Supposing then the
worst, that the disputing parties appoint men who are interested in their
favours ; still the balance is equal : — both may do the same. The court
is not influenced by undue motives, though its members are : and if in con
sequence of such motives or of any other cause the court cannot agree
upon a verdict, what do they do ? They appoint an umpire, or, which is
the same thing, the disputants appoint one. This umpire must be pre
sumed to be impartial ; for otherwise the disputants would not both have
assented to his appointment. At the worst, then, an impartial decision
may be confidently hoped ; and what may not be hoped under better cir
cumstances ? It is, I believe, common for disagreeing parties to nomi
nate, at once, disinterested and upright men ; and if they do this, and
take care too that they shall be intelligent men, almost every thing is done
which is in the power of man to secure a just decision between them.
Disinterestedness, — uprightness,— intelligence : — these are the quali
ties which are needed in an arbitrator. That he should be disinterested, —
that is, that he should possess no motive to prefer the interests of either
party, — is obviously indispensable. But this is not enough. Other motives
than interest operate upon men ; and there is no sufficient security for
the integrity of a decision, but in that habitual uprightness in the arbitra
tor by which the sanctions of morality are exercised and made influen
tial. The requisiteness of intelligence, both as it implies competent
talent and competent knowledge, is too manifest for remark.
Now one of the great objections which are made to a judicature
appointed for the decision of one dispute, and that one only, is " the want
of legal science," — ** the ignorance of those who are to decide upon our
rights."* This objection applies in great force to ordinary juries, but it
scarcely applies at all to intelligent arbitrators properly selected, — and
not applying, we are at liberty to claim in favour of arbitration without
abatement, that " indifferency," that " integrity," that " disinterestedness,"
which it is allowed that a casual judicature possesses.
Men become skilful by habit and experience. The man who is now
selected for the first time in his life to exercise the office of an arbitrator
feels perhaps some difficulties. He is introduced into a new situation in
society ; and, like other novices, it is not unlikely that he will be under
difficulties respecting his decision. But if the system of arbitration
should become as common as lawsuits are now, men would soon learn
expertness in the duties of arbitrators. If in a moderate town there
* Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil, b, 6, c. 7.
CHAP. 10.] EXTENDED SYSTEM OF ARBITRATION. 307
were twelve or twenty men, whose characters and knowledge recom
mended them generally and especially to the confidence of their neigh
bours, — these are the men who would be selected to adjust their dis
putes. And even if the same individuals were not often employed, the
habit of judging, a familiarity with such matters, becomes diffused, just
as every other species of knowledge becomes diffused upon subjects that
are common in the world.
Another ground of difficulty to an arbitrator in the pre^nt state of things
is the habit which is so general in the community, of referring for justice
to rules of law, A man, when he enters an arbitration-room, is continually
referring in his mind to law books and precedents. This is likely to
confuse his principles of decision, to intermix foreign things with one
another, and to produce sometimes perhaps a decision founded half upon
law and half upon justice. This may indeed occasionally be in some
sort imposed upon hinvr-at least he would feela hesitation, a sort of
repugnance to deliver a decision which was absolutely contrary to the
rule of law. But this inconvenience is in a great degree accidental and
factitious. As the principles of equity assumed their proper dominance
in the adjustment of disputes, fixed laws would proportionably decline in
influence and in their practical hold upon the minds of men. Their
judgments would gradually become emancipated from this species of
shackle; — they would rise disencumbered of arbitrary maxims, and
decide according to those maxims of moral equity for the dictates of
which no man has far to seek. The whole system tends to the invigo-
ration and elevation of the mind. A man who is conscious of an abso
lute authority to decide, — of an uncontrolled discretionary power, in a
question perhaps of important interests, is animated by the moral emi
nence of his station to exert a vigorous and honourable endeavour to
award sound justice. You are not to expect in such a man, what we
find in arbitrary judges, that his very absoluteness will make him
capricious and tyrannical ; for the moment he has pronounced his de
cision, a calamity, if that decision have been unjust, awaits him ; — the
reprobation of his neighbours, of his friends, and of the public. The
exercise of his discretion is bound to the side of uprightness, though
not by ordinary pains and penalties, yet by virtual pains and penalties,
which to such men as are chosen for arbitrators are among the most
powerful that can be applied.
One thing is indispensable to an extended system of arbitration, that
the .civil magistrate should sanction its decisions by a willing enforce
ment of the verdict. It is usual for disputants who refer to arbitrators
to sign an agreement to abide their decision ; and this agreement may
by some simple process of law be enforced. The law does indeed now
sanction arbitrations ; but then it is in a formal and expensive way. A
deed is drawn up, and a stamp must be affixed, and a solicitor must be
employed ; — so that at last the disagreeing parties do but partly reap the
benefits of arbitration. This should be remedied. The reader will
observe that I say law is wanted to enforce the decisions of equity. No
doubt it is. It is wanted for the same reason as government is wanted,
to exert power, which power, it is evident, must be exercised by the govern
ment. But if any critic should say that this acknowledges the insuffi
ciency of equity, I answer, that we are speaking of unconnected things.
The business of equity is to decide between right and wrong, and to say
what is right, — with which the infliction of penalties or the enforcement
U2
308 APPLICABILITY OF [ESSAY III.
of decisions has no concern. A court and jury say that a man shall be
sent for six months to a prison, but it forms no part of their business to
execute the sentence.
With respect to the applicability of courts of equity to criminal trials,
I see nothing that necessarily prevents it. Men who can judge respecting
matters of property and personal rights, can judge respecting questions
of innocence arid guilt. In one view, indeed, they can judge more easily;
because moral desert is determinable upon more simple and obvious
principles than claims of property. Many who would feel much diffi
culty in deciding involved disputes about money or land, would feel none
in determining, with sufficient accuracy, the degree of an offender's guilt,
It being manifest then that offences against the peace of society may
be as properly referred to courts of equity as questions of right, — what
should be the constitution of such a court ] But here the reader is to
remember, that the objection is not merely or principally to the constitu
tion of present courts, but to the principles of fixed law upon which jus
tice is administered. So that, if principles of equity were substituted,
the constitution of the court would become a secondary concern ; and
courts consisting of a jury and a judge might not be bad, though they
were not the best. If half a dozen intelligent and upright men could be
appointed to examine the truth of charges against a prisoner, and if they
were allowed to award a just punishment, I should have little fear, after
making allowances for the frailties of humanity, that their penalties
would generally be just ; — at any rate, that they -would be more accord
ant with justice than penalties which are regulated by fixed law. The
difficulty is in procuring the arbitrators, a difficulty greater than that
which obtains in cases of private right. For in the first place, offenders
against the peace of society generally excite the feelings of the public,
and especially of the neighbourhood, against them. Men too often pre
judge cases, and the prisoner is frequently condemned in the public mind
before any evidence has been brought before a jury. This indicates a
difficulty in selecting impartial men. And then in the case of arbitra
tions, each party chooses one or more of the judges. Shall the same
privilege be allowed to persons charged with crime ? If it were, would
they not select persons who would frustrate all the endeavours to admin
ister justice ? Besides, where is the conflicting party who shall be
equally interested in appointing arbitrators of opposite dispositions?
And if both did appoint such, what is the hope of a temperate and ra
tional decision ? Again, there are offences which are regarded with
peculiar severity by particular classes of men. A court composed of
country gentlemen would hardly award a fair verdict against a poacher.
These considerations and others indicate difficulty ; and perhaps the
difficulty cannot better be avoided than by a court selected by chance.
In the selection of juries there have recently been introduced improve
ments. Still, if equity rather than law is to be regarded, something
more is needed. Now, though a jury be ignorant, the judge is learned :
and a learned judge is indispensable where law is to be applied. But
if simple justice be the object, such a judge becomes comparatively
little requisite : — yet, when we have dispensed with the intelligence of
the judge, we must provide for greater intelligence in the jury. A jury
from the lower classes of the community may serve with tolerable suffi
ciency the purposes of justice in the present system ; but if they were
converted from jurymen into arbitrators, much more of intelligence, and
DHAP. 10.] COURTS OF EQUITY TO CRIMINAL TRIALS. 309
we may add, much more of elevation of character, is required. To en
deavour to obtain this intelligence and uprightness by a mode of chance
selection must always be very uncertain of success. If those who were
eligible for this species of jury were obliged to possess a certain qualifi
cation in point of property ; if, of those who were thus eligible, a com
petent number were selected by ballot ; and if the prisoner and the
prosecutor were allowed a large right of challenge, perhaps every thing
would be done which is in the power of man.
The number of arbitrators who form a court of equity should always
be small. Large numbers effect less good by accumulating wisdom,
than harm by putting off patient investigation to one another, and by
" dividing the shame" of a partial decision.
The members of such courts, though capable of deciding with com
petent propriety on questions of right and wrong when facts are laid
before them, may be incapable, from want of habit, of eliciting those
facts from reluctant or partial witnesses. Now I perceive no reason
why, both in criminal and civil courts, a person could not be employed,
whose profession it was to elicit the truth. Is he to be a pleader or an
advocate ? No. The very name is sufficient to discredit the office in the
view of pure morality. One professional man only should be employed.
That one should be employed by neither party separately, but by both, or
by the state. It should be his simple and sole business to elicit the truth,
and to elicit it from the witnesses of both sides. Securities against
corruption in this man are obviously as easy as in arbitrators themselves.
The judges of England evince, in general an admirable example of impar
tiality ; and as to corruptness it is almost unknown. What reason is there
for questioning that officers such as we speak of may not be incorrupt
and impartial too ? If handsome remuneration be necessary to secure
them from undue influence, and to maintain the dignity of their office,
let them by all means have it. Even in a present court of law or jus
tice, — suppose the examination of witnesses was taken from barristers
and conducted by the judge, does not every man perceive that the truth
might be elicited by one interrogator of the witnesses of both parties ?
And does not every one perceive that such an interrogator would elicit
it in a far more upright and manly way than is now the case ? Plead
ing is a thing which, in the administration of justice, ought not to be so
much as named.
Bearing along in our minds then the inconveniences and the evils of
fixed laws, — let us suppose that a circuit was taken, and that courts were
held from which the application of fixed law was, so far as is practicable,
excluded. Suppose these courts to consist of three, or five, or seven men,
selected according to the utmost skill of precautionary measures, for
their intelligence and uprightness, and of one publicly authorized and
dignified person, whose office it should be to assist the court in the dis
covery of the truth. Suppose that, when the facts of the case, and as
far as possible the motives and intentions of the parties, were laid open,
these three, or five, or seven men, pronounced a decision as accordant as
they could do with the immutable principles of right and wrong, and
excluding almost all reference to fixed laws, and precedents, and tech
nicalities ; — is it not probable, is it not reasonable, to expect that the
purposes of justice would be more effectually answered than they are at
present ? And even if justice was not better administered, would not
310 TECHNICALITIES. [ESSAY III.
such a system exclude various existing evils connected with legal insti
tutions, evils so great as to be real calamities to the state ?
Perhaps it is needless to remark, that all courts of equity which
are recognised by the state should be public. Individuals who refer
their disputes to private arbitrators may have them privately adjusted if
they please. But publicity is a powerful means of securing that impar
tiality which it is the first object in the administration of justice to secure.
There is one advantage, collateral indeed to the administration of
equity, but not therefore the less considerable, that it would have a
strong tendency to diffuse sound ideas of justice in the public mind. As
it is, it may unhappily be affirmed that courts of judicature spread an
habitual confusion of ideas upon the subject ; and, what is worse, very
frequently inculcate that as just which is really the contrary. Our no
tions of a court of judicature are, or they ought to be, that it is a place
sacred to justice. But when, superinduced upon this notion, it is the
fact, that by very many of its decisions justice is put into the back
ground ; that law is elevated into supremacy ; that the technicalities of
forms and the finesse of pleaders triumph over the decisions of recti
tude in the mind, — the effect cannot be otherwise than bad. It cannot
do otherwise than confound, in the public mind, notions of good and evil,
and teach them to think that every thing is virtuous which courts of jus
tice sanction. — If, instead of this, the public were habituated to a constant
appeal to equity, and to a constant conformity to its dictates, the effect
would be opposite, and therefore good. Justice would stand prominently
forward to the public view as the object of reverence and regard. The
distinctions between equity and injustice would become, by habit, broad
and defined. Instead of confounding the public ideas of morality, a
court of judicature would teach, very powerfully teach, discrimination.
A court, seriously endeavouring to discover the decision of justice, and
uprightly awarding it between man and man, would be a spectacle of
which the moral influence could not be lost upon the people.
In thus recommending the application of pure moral principles in the
administration of justice, the writer does not presume to define how far
the present condition of human virtue may capacitate a legislature to ex
change fixed rules of decision for the impartial judgments of upright men.
That it may be done to a much greater extent than it is now done he
entertains nx> doubt. A legislature might perhaps begin with that per
nicious species of arbitrary rules which consists of technicalities and
forms. To deny justice to a man because he has not claimed it in a
specific form of words, or because some legal inaccuracy has been com
mitted in the proceedings, must always disapprove itself to the plain
judgments of mankind. Begin then with the most palpable and useless
rules. Whatever can be dispensed with, it is a sacred duty to abolish,
and every act of judicious abolition will facilitate the abolition of others:
— it will prepare the public mind for the contemplation of purer institu
tions, and gradually enable it to adopt those institutions in the national
practice.
As to the particular modes of securing the administration of simple
justice, the writer would say, that those which he has suggested he has
suggested with deference. His business is rather with the principles of
CHAP. 1L] OF CRIMES. 3lj
sound political institutions than with the form and mode of applying them
to practice. Other and better means than he has suggested are probably
to be found. The candid reader will acknowledge, that in advocating
institutions so different from those which actually obtain, the political
moralist is under peculiar difficulties and disadvantages. The best
machinery of social institutions is discovered rather from experience than
from reasoning ; and upon this machinery, in the present instance,
experience has thrown little light.
Here, as in some other parts of this work, the reader will observe that alterations are
proposed and improvements suggested which have been actually adopted since these Essays
were written. Our courts, and also the legislature, have lately paid some attention to the
modes in which public justice is administered. As yet, the alterations which have been
made are chiefly confined to the criminal laws : but our judges are now beginning to exert
the discretionary power which is vested in them, in preventing the course of justice from
being, so frequently as it heretofore has been, intercepted by technicalities and verbal inac
curacy. Of this the public had lately an instance in the cause of Gulley, v. the Bishop of
Exeter. A parliamentary commission has been appointed and is now sitting, whose object
it is to devise improvements in the practice of our courts of judicature. — ED.
CHAPTER XI.
OF THE POPULAR SUBJECTS OF PENAL ANIMADVERSION.
THE man who compares the actions which are denounced as wrong in
the moral law with those which are punished by civil government will
find that they are far from an accordance. The moral law declares
many actions to be wicked which human institutions do not punish ; and
there are some that these institutions punish, of which there is no direct
reprehension in the communicated will of God.
It is not easy to refer all these incongruities to the application of any
one general principle of discrimination. You cannot say that the ma
gistrate adverts only to those crimes which are pernicious to society, —
for all crimes are pernicious. Nor can you say that he selects the
greatest for his animadversion, because he punishes many of which the
guilt is incomparably less than others which he passes by. Nor, again,
can you say that he punishes only those in which there is an injured and
complaining party ; for he punishes some of which all the parties were
voluntary agents. Lastly, — and what seems at first view very extraor
dinary, — we find that civil governments create offences which, simply
regarded, have no existence in the view of morality ; and punish them
with severity, while others, unquestionably immoral, pass with impunity.
The practical rule which appears to be regarded in the selection of
offences for punishment is founded upon the existing circumstances of
the community.
Offences against which, from any cause, the public disapprobation is
strongly directed are usually visited by the arm of the civil magistrate,
— partly because that disapprobation implies that the offence disturbs the
order of society, and partly because, in the case of such offences, penal
animadversion is efficient and vigorous, by the ready co-operation oi the
SEDUCTION, ETC. [ESSAY III.
public. Thus it is with almost all offences against property, and with
those which personally injure or alarm us. Every man is desirous of
prosecuting a house-breaker, for he feels that his own house may be
robbed. Every man is desirous of punishing an assault or a threatening
letter, because he considers that his peace may be disturbed by the one
and his person injured by the other. This general and strong reproba
tion makes detection comparatively easy, and punishment efficient.
Examples of the contrary kind are to be found in the crimes of drunken
ness, of profane swearing, of fornication, of duelling. Not that we have
any reason to expect that at the bar of heaven some of these crimes will
be at all less obnoxious to punishment than the former, — but because,
from whatever reason, the public very negligently co-operate with law in
punishing them, and manifest little desire to see its penalties inflicted.
An habitual drunkard does much more harm to his family and to the
world than he who picks my pocket of a guinea, — yet we raise a hue
and cry after the thief, and suffer the other to become drunk every day.
So it is with duelling and fornication. The public know very well that
these things are wrong, and pernicious to the general welfare ; but
scarcely any one will prosecute those who commit them. The magistrate
may make laws, but in such a state of public feeling they will remain as
a dead letter ; or, which perhaps is as bad, be called out upon accidental
and irregular occasions.
Another rule which appears to be practically, though not theoretically,
adopted is, to punish those offences of which there is a natural prosecu
tor. Thus it is with every kind of robbery and violence. Some one
especially is aggrieved : the sense of grievances induces a ready prose
cution ; and whatever is readily prosecuted by the people will generally
be denounced in the laws of the state. The opposite fact is exhibited
in the case of many offences against the public, such as smuggling, and
generally in the case of all frauds upon the revenue. No individual is
especially aggrieved (unless in the case of regular dealers whose busi
ness is injured by illicit trading), and the consequence is either that
numberless frauds of this kind are suffered to pass with impunity, or that
the government is obliged to employ persons to detect the offenders and
to prosecute them itself. There are some crimes which seem in this
respect of an intermediate sort, — where there is a natural prosecutor and
yet where that prosecutor is not the most aggrieved person. This is
instanced in the case of seduction. The father prosecutes, but he does
not sustain one-half the injury that is suffered by the daughter. There
are obvious reasons why the most injured party should be at best an
inefficient prosecutor ; and the result is consonant, — that this offence is
frequently not punished at all, or, as is the case in our own country, it is
punished very slightly, — so slightly that in no case does the person of
the offender suffer. This lenity does not arise from the venialness of
this crime, or of that of adultery. They are among the most enormous
that can be perpetrated by man. Of the less flagitious of the two, it has
been affirmed " that not one-half of the crimes for which men suffer death
by the laws of England are so flagitious as this."* This enormity is
distinctly asserted in both the Old Testament and the New : in the first,
adultery was punished with death ; in the second, both this and fornica
tion, which is less criminal than seduction, is repeatedly assorted with
* Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 3.— Seduction.
CHAP. 11.] CREATED OFFENCES. 313
the greatest crimes, and alike threatened with the tremendous punish
ments of religion.
Such considerations lead the inquirer to expect that the offences which
are denounced in a statute-book will bear some relation to the state of
virtue in the people. The more virtuous the people are the greater will
be the number of crimes which can be efficiently visited by the arm of
power. Thus, during some part of the seventeenth century, that is,
during the interregnum, adultery was punished with death ; and it may
be remarked, without paying a compliment to the religion or politics of
those times, that the actual practice of morality was then, among a
large proportion of the nation, at a higher standard than it is now. No
society exists without some species of penal justice, — from that of a
gang of thieves to that of a select and pious Christian community. The
thieves will punish some crimes, but they will be few. The virtuous
community will punish or, which for our present purpose is the same
thing, animadvert upon very many. In a well-ordered family many
things are held to be offences, and are noticed as such by the parent,
which in a vicious family pass unregarded.
When, therefore, we contemplate the unnumbered offences against
morality which the magistrate does not attempt to discourage, we may
take comfort from hoping that as the virtue of mankind increases, it may
increase in more than a simple ratio. As the public become prepared
for it, governments will lend their aid ; and thus they who have now
little restraint from some crimes but that which exists in their own minds
may hereafter be deterred by the fear of human penalty. And this
induces the observation, that to throw obstacles in the way of increasing
the subjects of penal animadversion is both impolitic and wrong. This,
unhappily, has frequently been done in our own country. Some public
writers (writers not of great eminence to be sure), have taken great
pains to ridicule legislation respecting cruelty to animals, — and the
endeavours on the part of well-disposed men to enforce almost obsolete
statutes against some other common crimes. There are, surely, a suffi
ciency of obstacles to the extension of the subjects of penal legislation,
without needlessly adding more. Besides, these men directly encourage
the crimes. To sneer at him who prosecutes a ferocious man for cruelty
to an animal, is to encourage cruelty. When a man is brought before a
magistrate for profaneness, — to joke about how the culprit swore in the
court, is to teach men to be profane.
That which we have called, in the commencement of this chapter, the
creation of offences, demands peculiar solicitude on the part of a govern
ment. By a created offence, I mean an act which, but for the law, would
be no offence at all. Of this class are some offences against the game-
laws. He who on another continent was accustomed, without blame, to
knock down hares and pheasants as he found occasion, would feel the
force of this creation of offences when, on doing the same thing in Eng
land, he was carried to a jail. The most fruitful cause of these factitious
offences is in extensive taxation. When a new tax is imposed, the
legislature endeavours to secure its due payment by requiring or for
bidding certain acts. These acts, which antecedently were indifferent,
become criminal by the legislative prohibition, or obligatory by the legis-
314 CREATED OFFENCES. [ESSAY III-
lative command ; and non-compliance is therefore punished as an offence
by the. civil power.* There is no more harm in a man's buying brandy in
France and bringing it to England than in buying a horse of his neigh
bour. The law lays a duty upon brandy, prohibits any man from bringing
it to the country except through a custom-house, and treats as criminals
those who do.
Now we do not affirm that those who commit these created offences do
not absolutely offend against morality. They do offend ; for in general
every evasion or violation of the laws of the state is an immoral act.
But this does not affect the truth that such offences should be as few as
they can be. The reasons are, first, that they are encroachments upon
civil liberty, and secondly — which is our present concern — that they are
pernicious to the public. Men perceive the distinction between moral
crimes and legal crimes without perhaps ever having inquired into its
foundation. And they act upon this perception. He who has been con
victed of killing hares, or evading taxes, or smuggling lace, is commonly
willing to tell you of his exploits. He who has been convicted of steal
ing from his neighbour hangs down his head for shame. The sanctions
of law ought to approve themselves to the common judgments of mankind.
Whatever the state denounces, that the public ought to feel to be criminal,
and to be willing to suppress. The penalties of the law ought to be ac
companied in men's minds by the sanction of morality. They should
feel that to be punished by a magistrate was tantamount to being a bad
man. When, instead of this, there is an intricate admixture, — when we
see some things which are, simply regarded, innocent, visited by the
same punishment as others that all men feel to be wicked, men are likely
to feel a diminished respect for penal law itself. They learn to regard
the requisitions of law as having little countenance from rectitude ; and
think that to violate them, though it may be dangerous, is not wrong. It
does not approve itself, as a whole, to the public judgment ; and there
are many perhaps who feel, on this account, a diminished respect for
penal institutions, without being able to assign the reason.
In the extension of this political and moral evil the greatest of all
agents is war. With respect to the creation of offences, it stands sui
generis, and converts a greater number of indifferent actions into punish
able ones than all other agents united. War produces the extensive taxa
tion of which we speak ; but the practical system has offences peculiar
to itself, — offences which the moral law of our Creator never denounced,
but which the system of war visits with tremendous punishments. Adam
Smith adverts to this deplorable circumstance. He says, that the punish
ment of death to a sentinel who falls asleep upon his watch, " How
necessary soever, always appears to be excessively severe. The natural
atrocity of the crime seems to be so little, and the punishment so great,
that it is with great difficulty that our heart can reconcile itself to zV."t Nor
will the heart nor ought the heart ever to be reconciled to it. It is, I
know, perfectly easy to urge arguments in its favour from expediency
and the like ; but urge these arguments as you may, the uninitiated or
imhardened heart will never be convinced : and it is vain to tell us that
that is right which the immutable dictates in our minds pronounce to
* I have somewhere met with a book which contended that to commit these created
offences was no breach of morality. This, however, is not true, because the obligation to
obey civil government, in its innocent enactments, is clearly stated in the moral law,
t Theory of Moral Sentiments.
CHAP. 11.] SEDUCTION— DUELLING. 315
be wrong. There are, indeed, few spectacles more calculated to sicken
the heart and to make it turn in disgust away from the monstrousness of
human institutions than a contemplation of martial law, — a code which
not only creates a multiplicity of offences that were never prohibited by
our merciful Parent, but which visits the commission of those offences
with inflictions that ought not to be so much as named among a Christian
people.
While then the philanthropist hopes that some of those intrinsically
criminal actions to which human penalties are not attached will one day
become the object of their animadversions, he hopes that this other class,
which are not intrinsically vicious, will gradually be expunged from
among penal laws. Both the additions to, and the deductions from, the
system which morality dictates are the result of the impure or corrupt
condition of society.
Meantime some approaches to a juster standard to regulate penal
animadversion may be made, by transferring, in our (own country, some
offences from the civil to the criminal courts. An instance exists in the
crime of seduction and its affinities. This crime, whether we regard it
eimply or in its consequences, or in the deliberation with which it is
committed, is, as we have just seen, excessively flagitious. How then
does it happen that its perpetration is regarded as a matter for the cogni
zance only of legal courts, and for the punishment only of a pecuniary
fine ? What should we say to that mode of justice which allowed the
ruffian who assaults your person to escape by paying money? Yet even
a severe assault does not approach in enormity to the crime of which we
speak. I would punish seducers in their persons. I would send them
to prison like other malefactors ; and oblige them to labour, or subject
hem to that system of prison-discipline which might give hope (if any
thing could give hope) of reformation. Alas ! if there is no reason for
not acting thus, there is a motive. That class of society to whom the
framing of laws is intrusted regard the crime with but very ambiguous
detestation. " The law of honour," it is said, " applauds the address
of a successful intrigue." How should they who value themselves upon
being the subjects of the law of honour wish to consign a man to prison
for that which the law of honour applauds ? I doubt not that if seduc
tion were confined to low-life the legislature would quickly send seducers
to the criminal courts. Would they were sent ! The very idea of the
punishment would, among gay men in the superior walks of life, often
prevent the crime. To be seized by police ! To be carried to a jail !
To be brought to the bar with thieves and murderers ! To be ser*:enced
by the court ! To be carried back to labour in a prison, or to be embarked
for New South Wales ! The idea I say of this would go far to pi event
the perpetration of this abandoned crime.
Duelling is another of the crimes which should be prosecuted in
criminal courts. It is indeed prosecuted there if anywhere ; but it is
seldom prosecuted at all. The ultimate cause is easily discovered :—
the crime is sanctioned by the law of honour. Like the preceding, if it
were practised only by the poor* it would quickly be visited by the arm
of the law. Of the probability of this we have an illustration in the case
* In France, it is said, and in America, duelling is descending to the inferior classes of
society If this should become general, we may soon reckon upon an efficient diminution
of the'practice. -The rich will forbear it on account of its vulgarity, and they will take care
to punish it when it is practised only by the poor.
316 INSOLVENTS. [ESSAY III.
of boxing. One or more of the judges have recently declared, that if a
man is convicted of having caused another's death in a boxing-match,
they will inflict the sentence which the law denounces upon man
slaughter. The law of honour has no voice here ; and here the voice
of reason and common sense is regarded. Make boxing-matches, like
duelling, a part of the system of the law of honour, and we shall hear
very little about the punishment of manslaughter. The reader saw, in
the last essay, what an influence the law of honour had in a case of
duelling on the mind and on the charge of a judge on the Scotch bench.
These things suggest sorrowful reflections !
Much and very contradictory declamation is often employed respecting
the treatment which is due to those who become insolvent. By our
present law the debtor may be arrested, that is, he may be imprisoned ;
on which account it may be allowable to range the discussion under the
head of penal law. Imprisonment for debt is, in effect, a penalty, although
it be not inflicted by a court of justice.
One class of persons declaims against the oppression of immuring
men in a prison who have committed no crime ; against the cruelty of
the relentless creditor who, when misfortune has overtaken a fellow-
creature, adds to his miseries the terrors of the law, and deprives him
of the opportunity of exertion and his family of the means of support :
and all this it is said is done without obtaining any other advantage to
the persecutor than the gratification of his resentment or malignity.
Another class expatiates upon the unprincipled fraud which is committed
upon industrious traders by spendthrifts or villains, — upon the hardship
of leaving honest men at the mercy of every idle or profligate person
who has address enough to obtain credit, and upon the absurdity of that
philanthropy which would prevent them from deterring him from his
frauds by the terrors of a jail.
To determine between these vehement and conflicting opinions, the
great question is, Whether a debtor is a criminal? If he is, there is no
reason why he should not be treated as a criminal : and if he is not, there
is no reason why an innocent man should meet the fate which is due
only to the guilty. These contradictory opinions appear to result from
the circumstance that one set of persons regard insolvents as criminals
and the other as unfortunate men. The truth however is, that many are
of one class and many of the other. It is therefore no subject of sur
prise that when one set of persons view one side of the question and
another the opposite, they should involve themselves and the subject in
conflict and contradiction.
From these considerations one conclusion appears plainly to follow, —
that no undiscriminating law upon the subject can be even tolerably just ;
that to concede the power of imprisoning all debtors is to permit oppres
sion ; that to deny it to any is to withhold punishment from guilt. In
order therefore to attain the ends of justice, it is absolutely indispensable
that discrimination should be made in every individual case.
Suppose then the first legal step towards enforcing payment from a
debtor were, not to obtain a writ, but to summon him before a magistrate.
If he refuses to attend to the summons, a warrant might be granted for
his arrest, since the reasonable inference would be, that his motives fo*
withholding payment, or the causes by which he had been unable to pay
were such as he was afraid to acknowledge. If he attended, the case
would be heard, — not from lawyers, but from the parties themselves.
CHAP. 11] CRIMINAL DEBTORS. 317
Supposing it appeared that the debtor was capable of paying, but unwill
ing, or that, although then unable, his inability had been occasioned by
manifest misconduct: let him be committed to prison. And why?
Because he is an offender against public justice, and like other offenders
should await his punishment.
Supposing again it appeared that the debtor could not pay, and that Ins
insolvency involved no fault : let him be regarded as a man overtaken
by misfortune, as a man whom it would be oppressive and wrong to
punish, and who therefore should be set at large. His property of course
would be secured.
Discrimination of this kind, whatever might be the mode of its exer
cise, appears to be a sine qua non of the administration of justice. It is
exceedingly obvious, that when, actions of which the external conse
quences may be the same, result some from innocent and some from
criminal causes, they should not receive the same treatment at the
hand of the law : just as he who accidentally occasions a man's death
should not receive the same treatment as he who commits murder.
Now this manifest requisite of justice is in no other way attainable in the
case of insolvency than by investigating the conduct of every individual
man.
When the criminal debtors are committed like other criminals to prison,
they should be regarded as public offenders, and as such become amena
ble to penal animadversion. Courts of a simple construction might per
haps be erected for this class of offenders, which might possess the
power of awarding such punishments for the various degrees of guilt as
the law thought fit to prescribe. Nor does there appear any reason for
deviating materially from those species of punishment which are properly
employed for other offenders, because insolvency is occasioned by guilt
in endless gradations, and sometimes by great crime. The number of
insolvents who are entirely innocent is comparatively small, and of those
who are not innocent the gradations of criminality are without end.
Some are incautious or imprudent, some are heedlessly and some shame
fully negligent, and some again are atrociously profligate. The whole
amount of injury which is inflicted upon the people of this country by
criminal insolvency is much greater than that which is inflicted by any
one other crime which is ordinarily punished by the law. Neither
swindling, nor forgery, nor robbery, in their varieties, produces an equal
amount of mischief. To every single individual who loses his property
by theft or fraud there are probably twenty who lose it by criminal
debtors. Such facts evidently furnish weighty considerations for the
legislator as the guardian of the public welfare ; and that system of juris
prudence is surely defective which allows so much public mischief almost
without restraint. Justice and policy alike indicate the necessity of
more efficient security against the want of probity in debtors than has
hitherto been furnished by the law.
A man who begins business with a thousand pounds of his own, and
who keeps a stock of goods to the value of fifteen hundred, is obliged in
honesty to insure. If he does not insure, and a fire destroys his goods,
so that his creditors lose five hundred pounds, he surely is chargeable
with a moral offence. It cannot be just knowingly to endanger the loss
of other men's property which has been entrusted in the confidence of
its repayment. But if such a man commits injustice towards others,
upon what grounds is he to be exempted from the rightful consequences
318 GRADATIONS OF GUILT IN INSOLVENCY. [Essxv III.
of injustice ? We would not speak of such a man as a criminal, nor
affirm that he deserves severity of punishment, but we say that since he
has needlessly and negligently sacrificed the property of other men, it is
fit that the penal legislator should notice and discountenance his offence.
Another trader, without any vicious intention, " neglects his business."
His customers by degrees leave him. Year passes after year with an
income continually diminishing, until at length he finds that his property
is less than his debts. This man is more vicious than the former, and
should be visited by a greater amount of punishment. Another, with a
prosperous business and no great vices, allows a more expensive domestic
establishment than his income warrants. His property gradually lapses
away, and at last he cannot pay twenty shillings in the pound to his cred
itors. Can it be disputed, that a man who knows that he is in a course
of life which will probably end in defrauding others of their property,
should be regarded in any other light than as an offender against justice ?
And can it be unreasonable for the jurisprudence of a community to act
towards such an offender as if he were a dishonest man ?
Another engages in speculations which endanger the property of his
creditors, and which, if they do not succeed, will defraud them. Such
speculations certainly are dishonest ; and when they prove unsuccessful,
he who makes them should be treated as the committer of voluntary
fraud. The propriety of this is enforced by the consideration, that it is
nearly impossible for creditors to provide against such fraudulence ; and
laws should be severe in proportion as the facilities of wrong are great.
Such gradations might be multiplied indefinitely, until we arrived at
those in which men contract debts without the probable prospect of pay
ment ; and thence up to the intentionally and voluntary fraudulent. For
such offenders the penalties should be severe. The guilt of some of
them is at least as great as that of him who robs you of your purse or
forges your signature. With respect indeed to those who pursue a delib
erate course of fraud, and under pretence of business possess themselves
of the property of others, and expend it or carry it off, there are few
crimes connected with property that are equally atrocious. The law
indeed appears to acknowledge this, for its penalty for a fraudulent bank
rupt is desperately severe. Without stopping to inquire why it is so
seldom inflicted, one truth appears to be plain, that a penal system which
like ours scarcely adverts to crimes so extended and so great, must be
greatly defective. Surely there are many persons who walk our streets
every day, yet who are in the view both of natural and of Christian jus
tice incomparably more guilty and more justly obnoxious to punishment
than the majority of those whom the law confines in jails or transports
beyond the ocean.
We are persuaded, that if the penal law took cognizance of all insol
vents, and regarded all who could not satisfactorily account for their
insolvency as public delinquents — if these were prosecuted as systemat
ically as thieves are now, and if by these means the idea of " crime" was
associated with their conduct in the public mind, the deplorable mischiefs
of bankruptcy would be quickly and greatly diminished. In the restraint
of all crimes the power of public opinion is great. At present, unhap
pily, the man whose offence is justly worthy of imprisonment or trans
portation obtains his certificate, and then becomes the accepted associate
of virtuous men. But teach the public to connect with him the idea not
of a bankrupt but of a prisoner ; not of a man who has acted dishonour-
CHAP. 11.] LIBELS. 3!9
ably towards his creditors, but of a convicted criminal, — and this associa
tion would cease. Who would admit a footpad to his table ? And who
would admit to his table a man who was just like a footpad ? It requires
little knowledge of the constitution of society to knowt that when the
offences of fraudulent and negligent insolvency are ranked in the public
estimation with those of ordinary criminals, men will be influenced by a
new, and a powerful, and an efficient motive to avoid them.
It is a, question that involves some difficulties whether the publication
of statements injurious to individuals, to a government, or to religion, are
proper subjects of penal animadversion. That the publishers of these
statements frequently act criminally is certain, and they are therefore
justly obnoxious to punishment : but still it is to be inquired, whether
they can be efficiently punished ; and whether, if they be, the punish
ment can be such as to attain the proper ends of all punishment, — refor
mation, example, and redress.
And here we are presented, at the outset, with a great impediment
resulting from the nature of fixed law. If a libeller is to be legally pun
ished, the law must give some definition of what a libel is. Now it is
actually impossible to frame any definition which shall not either on the
one hand give license to injurious publications by its laxity, or on the
other prohibit a just publication of the truth by its rigour. The utmost
sagacity of legislation cannot avoid one of these two consequences.
They are not a Scylla and Charybdis which a wary helmsman may
avoid ; on the one or the other the legislator will infallibly find himself
wrecked.
If libellers, like other offenders, were tried by courts of equity, which
were guided in their award by the simple merits of the case, without any
regard to the definitions of law, — the case would be different. We might
then expect that the publication of wholesome truths would receive no
punishment though they constituted what is defined to be a libel now, and
that the publication of gratuitous malignity would receive a punishment
though lawyers now might say that the book was not a libel.
Yet even if these difficulties resulting from the vain attempt at legal
definitions were surmounted, and equity alone were entrusted with the
decision, it may still be greatly doubted whether, in the large majority of
this class of publications, all attempts at direct punishment would not be
better avoided.
Refer to the objects of punishment. Assume for the present that
reformation is the first. Is it probable, from the motives and nature of
the offence, that the reformation of the offender can often be hoped from
any species of judicial penalties?
The second object we suppose to be example. Men may no doubt be
deterred from publishing injurious statements by the fear of consequences ,
and thus far the end is attained. Supposing that the publishers could
generally be discovered, and that the decisions of the courts were prac
tically just, I should think the object of example would be a strong reason
for inflicting judicial punishment upon the libeller :— still other consider
ations will presently be submitted, which induce the belief that such
punishment is not the most effectual nor the most proper means of pre
vention.
320 LIBELS NOT PUNISHED BY THE LAW. [ESSAY III.
Then as to redress. There is only one way in which rational redress
can be obtained by the aspersed party ; and that is, by proving and making
known the falsehood of the aspersion. But this can be done without
applying to judicial courts.
The reader will ask, What then is it proposed to do T and in furnish
ing a reply, I shall proceed upon the supposition that courts of law only
exist.
A statement injurious to a private individual is published to the world.
He prosecutes the libeller under the most favourable circumstances. He
can prove that it is legally a libel, and he can prove also that it is false.
What then does he gain by proceeding to law ? Nothing, individually,
but that he proves the falsehood ; and this he may do more satisfactorily,
more cheaply, and more efficiently, without a court of law than within it.
If there are documents, or if there is testimony by which he can prove
the falsehood, they can be adduced before the public without the inter
vention of courts, and juries, and pleaders. Besides, the verdict of law
upon such cases is habitually received with a sort of suspicion and want
of confidence in its foundation ; because we know that verdicts are con
tinually given against the publishers of libels although the libel is true.
Now, in whatever degree the public doubts respecting the absolute false
hood of the libel, in the same degree the great private object of prosecut
ing the libeller is frustrated. The same evidence of falsehood adduced
without the intervention of law, would be much more effectual, because it
would be exempted from the same suspicion. — I put other motives to
prosecution, such as a regard to the public, out of the question, because
these are not often the motives which operate. In such matters men
usually act not from public, but from private views.
But the prosecutor's circumstances may be less favourable. Suppose
the statement, however injurious, is not legally a libel. Then, whatever
evidence he produces, the verdict is against him, and the public, who do
not trouble themselves with nice distinctions, perhaps think that the impu
tation upon his character is deserved. Again, it may be a libel, and yet
he may fail of producing legal proof. The most mortifying and insigni
ficant deficiencies in proof disappoint all his hopes. The publication of
a libel which all the world has seen, and of which everybody knows the
publisher, does not admit perhaps of legal proof. No man can be brought
forward who has seen, with his own eyes, that a certain man did pub
lish it. And here again the prosecutor obtains no redress. But further. —
Many public statements are libellous and are cruelly injurious to the
sufferer, which, nevertheless, are true. To prosecute these statements
is worse than merely vain. You only extend further and wider the
reproach which was confined in narrower limits before. You make the
evil to yourself more intense as well as more extended ; for the prose
cuted party will no doubt take care to bring proof of the truth of his
statements. Thus the scandal which was accepted with doubt and by a
few previous to the trial, is accepted with certainty and by a multitude
afterward.
What then is to be done ? Is every man to be at liberty to say with
impunity whatever he pleases, true or false, against other men 1 Not with
impunity ; but with impunity from the law. That this legal impunity may
be productive of some evils is undoubtedly true. But the question is not
whether evils exist, but whether they can be remedied. — Let us suppose
then that there was no such thing as libel law. I think it probable that if
CHAP. 11.] EFFECTS OF THE LAWS RESPECTING LIBELS. 321
these laws were repealed to-morrow, the press would quickly inundate the
public with torrents of vilification and slander. The malignity of bad men
would for a while prevent them from perceiving the alteration which awaited
the public habits. They would think that an aspersion would continue to
have the same effect in practically injuring and blackening the character
of others, as it has now that it is comparatively unfrequent from the re
straints of law. But what would be the result ? Inevitably this ; that
the public would very quickly regard libels as they regard all other com
mon things, with heedless indifference. They would not seize upon
them as they now do with a vicious avidity. Published slander would
become to the public, what the abuse of fish-women is to the inhabitants
of Billingsgate, — a thing which they do not regard, — a thing about which
they do not trouble themselves to consider whether the mutual vilifica
tions be true or false, and for which they scarcely think either the worse
or the better of the quarrcllers. With respect to published slander, such
a state of things could not last. Private malignity would often die for
want of food. It would not publish the aspersion which when published
no one would regard, and the flood of vituperation would soon subside.
But suppose for a moment that the contrary were possible. What
would then happen? Why the public would habituate themselves to
discrimination. They would not, they could not, accept every libel as
true ; and in general they would accept none as true of which the truth
was not proved. Here again the desire of virtue would be in a great
degree fulfilled ; for we need not trouble ourselves to repress libels by
which no man's mind is influenced. In all suppositions too the proper
means of redress are in the sufferer's power, — to adduce proof of the
falsehood and malignity of the assertion. And this is not only the greatest
object to himself, but it would also be a positive punishment to the slan
derer, while the custom would become a terror to other promulgators of
slander. What punishment is so likely to be influential as to be proved
to be a malicious and lying vilifier of innocent men ? What motive so
powerful to prevent this vilification, as the knowledge that this proof
would be laid before the public ?
If an innocent person, whose character had been in this manner pub
licly aspersed, should ask what I would advise him to do, I should say
— Think nothing of law : go to those persons who have the means of
testifying the falsehood of the aspersion ; procure their explicit and
attested allegations ; or if by any other means your innocence can be
shown, — avail yourself of them, and forthwith lay your exculpation before
the public. Here the great end is attained. Your character is not in
jured ; and as to the slanderer he is punished by being made the subject
of public reprobation and disgust. A few days previous to that on which
I write, a wide-extended newspaper published some insinuations against
the character of a gentleman eminent in society. What was done ?
Why, the same day or the next, a nobleman who happened to know the
truth, and whose word no one would dispute, sent a note to another paper
saying the insinuation was unfounded. Was not every object then attained ?
Would this gentleman have been further benefited by prosecuting the
editor? or could this editor have been more appropriately punished than
by this exposure of his malignity 1
But it will be said, that there do not exist the means of disproving
some aspersions, however false. This is correct : but what is to be
done ? If the sufferer cannot disprove it in a newspaper or pamphlet,
14 X
322 INFLUENCE OF PUBLIC CENSURE.
neither can he in a court of law ; and unless it is disproved, a prosecu
tion, besides procuring little or no redress, publishes the aspersion to a
ten-fold number. Yet such a person may demand proof of the slanderer,
and require that he come forward. This, and such things, may be done
in a manner that so indicates integrity and innocence, that in failure of a
justification of the slander it would recoil upon the author.
The most pitiable situation is that of a person, now perhaps virtuous
and good, who is charged with some of the crimes or vices of which he
was actually guilty in past times. Here the libel cannot be repelled,
for it is true. To invite investigation is to publish and deepen the slan
der. It must therefore be borne : a painful alternative, but unavoidable ;
and he who endures it will, perhaps, if he be now a Christian, regard it
with humility, as a not unjust retribution of his former sins.
But to allow the unrestrained publication of facts or falsehood is not
a matter purely evil. The statutes which prevent men from publishing
libels, prevent them also from publishing truths, — truths which all men
ought to hear. There are some actions which can in no other way be
punished or discountenanced than by exposing them to the public repro
bation. I saw the other day, in a newspaper (I think these popular
references much to the purpose) a narrative of the gross cruelty of some
gentleman to his horse, by which a large part of the animal's tongue had
been cut or torn from its mouth. The narrator said he was afraid to
mention this man's name on account of the libel laws. Suppose the
statement to have been true, and the name to have been made public ;
would it not have been a proper and a severe punishment for the inhu
manity 1 Would it not have deterred others from such inhumanity ? In
a word, ought not such charges to be published ? — And thus it would be
with a multitude of other offences for which scarcely any punishment is
so effectual as the reprobation of the public. " There is no terror that
comes home to the heart of vice, like the terror of being exhibited to the
public eye." I am willing to acknowledge, that if the publication of
many species of vicious conduct was more frequent, — so frequent as to
be habitual, it would eventually tend to the extension of private and
public virtue. Men who were in any way ill-disposed, would find them
selves under a constant apprehension of exposure from which. almost no
vigilance could secure an escape. The writer from whom I have quoted
the sentence above holds much stronger language than mine. "If truth,"
says he, " were universally told of men's dispositions and actions, gib
bets and wheels might be dismissed from the face of the earth. The
knave unmasked, would be obliged to turn honest in his own defence.
'Nay, no man would have time to grow a knave. Truth would follow
him in his first irresolute essays, and public disapprobation arrest him
in the commencement of his career."* All this is not now to be hoped:
yet when men knew that the exposure of their misdeeds was in the un
controllable power of the press, and that there were no means of secur
ing themselves from its punishment but being virtuous, would not they
be more anxious to practise virtue ? Would not the dread of exposure
operate upon some of the unpunished vices of private life, as the dread of
public opinion operates upon more public vices now ? The restraining
power of public opinion we know is great : — by dispensing with libel-
laws we should extend that power.
* Godwin : Inq. Pol. Just. v. ii. p. 643.
CHAP. 117.] LIBELS ON THE GOVERNMENT. 323
Finally, the repeal of these laws would be attended with one of two
consequences. If the consequence was that these publications were not
increased in number, no evil could be done. If they were increased
and greatly increased in number, the public would soon iearn to discrimi
nate. Tales are believed now because they are seldom told, and the
public discrimination is not sufficiently habituated to distinguish the
false from the true. If it were, the true only would pass current.
These often ought to pass; and as to the false, — who would publish
what no one would believe ?*
Publications to the discredit of government or its officers assume a
different character ; but the difference appears to be such as still more
strongly to argue against visiting them with legal penalties. Charles
James Fox remarked upon this difference. He thought however that
private libels, some of the true as well as the false, might rightly be
punished by the state ; but " in questions relating to public men," says
he, " verity in respect of public measures ought to be regarded as a com
plete justification of a libel. "f Whether truth be a. justification of a po
litical libel is one question, — Whether such a libel ought to be punished
by the law is another. But I think that no statement respecting public
measures ought to be punished by the law, — for this simple reason among
others : — if the statement be true, it is commonly right that the truth
should be publicly known ; if it be false, the mischief is better reme
died by publicly showing the falsehood than by any other means. Surely
to repel the aspersion upon public men by showing that it is unfounded,
is more consistent with the dignity of a government than to pursue the
vituperater with fines and imprisonment. Surely this more dignified
course would recommend the government and its measures to the judg
ments of all wise and judicious men.
To what purpose will you prosecute a true statement. If a hundred
men hear of it before the prosecution, ten thousand perhaps will hear of
it afterward. Nor is this all : for I can scarcely know an act which
can more powerfully tend to weaken a government, than first to act
amiss, and then vindictively to pursue him who mentions the misconduct.
If the object of a government in instituting such a prosecution be to
strengthen its own hands, surely it pursues the object by most inexpedi
ent means ; — and as to suppressing truth by the mere influence of terror,
it is a mode of governing for which no man in this country ought to lift
his voice.
A very serious point in addition is this, — that almost all political libels,
whether" true or false, are countenanced by a party. A prosecution there
fore, however seemingly successful, is sometimes totally defeated, be
cause the party recompenses the victim for his sufferings or his losses.
The prosecution and those who conduct it become the laughing-stock of
the party. In the days of Pitt, a person published a libel which that
statesman declared in the House of Commons to be " the most infamous
collection of sedition and treason that ever was published. "J The man
* I learn from a book which professes to give information respecting" Society and man
ners in High and Low Life," that there existed (and perhaps there still exists) a house of
call in London, where he who had malice without ability might besoeak a libel upon any
subject. The price was seven-and-sixpence. In a few hours ne might hear the scandal, if
such was his order, sung about the streets.— Such a fact may well affect our resolution to
punish libellers by the grave power of the law.
t Fell's Memoirs. t Gifford's Life.
X2
324 FREE STATEMENT OF THE TRUTH. [ESSAY III.
was prosecuted, found guilty, and sentenced to some imprisonment.
What was the result ? Why the party made a subscription for him to
the amount, it was said, of four thousand pounds. What bad man would
not publish a libel to be so paid ? What discreet government would
prosecute a libel to be so defeated ?
But if the uses of a free statement of the truth be so great in the case
of private persons, much more it is desirable in the case of political
affairs. To discuss, and if needful, temperately to animadvert upon the
conduct of governments, is the proper business of the public. How
else shall the judgment of a people be called forth and expressed!
How else shall they induce an amendment in public measures ? The
very circumstance that government is above the customary control of
the laws, is a good reason for allowing the people freely to deliver their
sentiments upon its conduct. Many ill actions of the private man may
be punished by the law ; but how shall the ill actions of public persons
be discountenanced if it be not by the expression of the public mind ?
A people have sometimes no other means of promoting reformations in
the conduct of government, than by exposing those parts in which reform
ation is needed. The argument then is short. — To prosecute false
political libels is unreasonable, for there are better and wiser means of
procedure. To prosecute true statements is wrong, because truth ought
to be freely told ; and if it were not wrong, it would be absurd, because
a government inflicts more injury upon itself by the prosecution than was
inflicted by the statement itself.
As the subject maligned rises in dignity, we are presented with
stronger and still stronger dissuasions to the legal prosecution of the ma-
ligner. There are more reasons against prosecuting a political than a
private aspersion : there are more reasons against prosecuting aspersions
upon religion than either. — Supposing, which we must suppose, that reli
gion is true, then all libels upon it must be false ; and like other false
libels are better met by proving the truth than by punishing the liar.
" Christianity is but ill defended," says Paley, " by refusing audience or
toleration to the objections of unbelievers."* It is a scandal to religion
to prosecute the man who makes objections to its truths : for what is the
inference in the objector's mind but this, that we resort to force because
we cannot produce .arguments ? Nor let me be misinterpreted if I ask,
What is Christianity, or who shall define it ? I may be of opinion, and
in fact I am of opinion, that some of the doctrines which the professors
of Christianity promulgate, are as much opposed to Christianity as
some of the arguments of unbelievers. But this is not a good reason
for making my judgment the standard of truth. Yet, without a standard,
how shall we prosecute him who impugns Christianity ? How, rather,
shall we know whether he impugns Christianity or something else ?
Truth is an overmatch for falsehood. Where they are allowed fairly
to conflict, truth is sure of the victory. Who then would rob her of the
victory by silencing falsehood by force ? It is by such contests that the
cause of truth is promoted. The assailant calls forth defenders ; and it
has in fact happened, that the proofs and practical authority of religion
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 5, c. 9.
CHAP. 1L] FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. 325
have been strengthened by defences which, but for the assaults of error,
might never have been made or sought.
If it be said that fair argument, however unsound, may be tolerated,
and that you only mean to punish the authors of reproachful and scan
dalous attacks upon religion, — we answer, that these attacks, like every
other, are better repelled by exposure or by neglect than by force. You
can scarcely prosecute these bad men (so experience teaches) without
making them cry out about persecution, and without calling around them
a party who might otherwise have held their peace. They exclaim,
** The sufferer believed what he wrote, and thought that to publish it was
for the general good." All this may be false, but it is specious. At any
rate you cannot disprove it. Sympathy for the man induces sympathy
for his principles. — Another way in which a prosecution defeats its
proper object is, that to prosecute a writing, whether scandalous or only
false, is a sure way of making the book read. Thousands inquire for a
profligate book because they hear it is of so much importance as to be
prosecuted, who else would not have inquired because they would not
have heard of it. So it was about forty years ago with Paine's works.
What, says gaping curiosity, can this book be, which ministers and bish
ops are so anxious that we should not read ? Multitudes have read the
profligate later works of the unhappy Lord Byron, but probably unnum
bered multitudes more would have read them if they had been prosecuted
by the attorney-general and burnt by the hangman. As it is, it may be
hoped they will sink into oblivion by the weight of their own obscene
profaneness.*
One objection applies to nearly all prosecutions of books, — that it IB
almost impossible to restrain the licentiousness of the press without di
minishing its wholesome freedom. The boundaries of freedom and licen
tiousness cannot be denned by law. No law can be devised which shall
at once exclude the evil and permit the good. Now to restrain the free
dom of the press is among the greatest mischiefs which can be inflicted
upon mankind. The reader will be prepared to acknowledge the mag
nitude of the mischief, if he considers how powerful and how proper
an agent public opinion is in promoting social and political reformations.
There is no agent of reformation so desirable as the quiet influence of
the public judgment; and in order to make this judgment sound and pow
erful, the press should be free.
The general conclusion that is suggested by the present chapter is, what
the intelligent and Christian reader might expect,— that the legislator should
endeavour, so far as from time to time becomes practicable, to direct
* This man affords an instance of that strange detraction from our own reputation with
posterity to which we have before referred. He certainly wished that " duL. oblivion
should not
" bar
His name from out the temple where the dead
Are honoured by the nations."
How preposterous then to be the suicide of so large a portion of his hopes, by writing what
experience might teach him the nations would not honour !
326 PROPER ENDS OF PUNISHMENT. [ESSAY HI
penal animadversion to those actions which are prohibited by the moral
law ; that he should endeavour this, both by addition and deduction ; by
ceasing to punish that which morality does not condemn, and by extend
ing punishment to more of those actions which it does condemn.
As to the seeming exception in the case of libels, we do not contend
so much for their impunity, as that the law is not the best means of
punishment. By taking the care of restraining this offence from the
law and placing it in the hands of the public, the punishment would
sometimes be not only more effectual but more severe
CHAPTER XII.
OF THE PROPER ENDS OF PUNISHMENT.
WHY is a man who commits an offence punished for the act ? Is It
for his own advantage, or for that of others, or for both T — For both, and
primarily for his own :* which answer will perhaps the more readily
recommend itself, if it can be shown that the good of others, that is, of
the public, is best consulted by those systems of punishment which are
most effectual in benefiting the offender himself.
When we recur to the precepts and the spirit of Christianity, we find
that the one great pervading principle by which it requires us to regulate
our conduct towards others is that of operative, practical good-will, —
that good-will which, if they be in suffering, will prompt us to alleviate
the misery, if they be vicious, will prompt us to reclaim them from vice.
That the misconduct of the individual exempts us from the obligation to
regard this rule, it would be futile to imagine* It is by him that the ex
ercise of benevolence is peculiarly needed. He is the morally sick, who
needs the physician ; and such a physician he, who by comparison is
morally whole, should be. If we adopt the spirit of the declaration, " I
came not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance," we shall enter
tain no doubt that the reformation of offenders is the primary business of
the Christian in devising punishments. There appears no reason why,
in the case of public criminals, the spirit of the rule should not be acted
upon, — "If a brother be overtaken in a fault restore such an one."
Among the Corinthians there was an individual who had committed a
gross offence, such as is now punished by the law of England. Of this
criminal Paul speaks in strong terms of reprobation in the first epistle.
The effect proved to be good ; and the offender having apparently be
come reformed, the Corinthians were directed, in the second epistle, to
forgive and to comfort him.
When therefore a person has committed a crime, the great duty of
those who in common with himself are candidates for the mercy of God,
is to endeavour to meliorate and rectify the dispositions in which his
crime originates ; to subdue the vehemence of his passions, — to raise
* " The end of all correction is either the amendment of wicked men or to prevent the
influence of ill example." This is the rule of Seneca ; and by mentioning amendment first,
he appears to have regarded it as the primary object.
CHAP. 12.] REFORMATION— EXAMPLE— RESTITUTION. 327
up in his mind a power that may counteract the power of future tempta
tion. We should feel towards these mentally diseased, as we feel
towards the physical sufferer, — compassion ; and the great object should
be to cure the disease. No doubt in endeavouring this object severe
remedies must often be employed. It is just what we should expect ;
and the remedies will probably be severe in proportion to the inveteracy
and malignity of the complaint, But still the end should never be for
gotten, and I think a. just estimate of our moral obligations will lead us
to regard the attainment of that end as paramount to every other.
There is one great practical advantage in directing the attention espe
cially to this moral cure, which is this, that if it be successful it pre
vents the offender from offending again. It is well known that the pro
portion of those who, having once suffered the stated punishment, again
transgress the laws and are again convicted, is great. But to what
ever extent reformation was attained, this unhappy result would be pre
vented.
The second object of punishment, that of example, appears to be
recognised as right by Christianity when it says that the magistrate is a
" terror" to bad men ; and when it admonishes such to be " afraid" of his
power. There can be no reason for speaking of punishment as a terror,
unless it were right to adopt such punishments as would deter. In the
private discipline of the church the same idea is kept in view: — "Them
that sin rebuke before all, that others also may fear"* The parallel of
physical disease may also still hold. The offender is a member of the
social body; and the physician who endeavours to remove a local disease
always acts with a reference to the health of the system.
In stating reformation as the first object, we also conclude, that if, in
any case, the attainment of reformation and the exhibition of example
should be found to be incompatible, the former is to be preferred. I
say if; for it is by no means certain that such cases will ever arise. The
measures which are necessary to reformation must operate as example
and in general, since the reformation of the more hardened offenders is
not to be expected except by severe measures, the influence of terror in
endeavouring reformation will increase with the malignity of the crime.
This is just what we need, and what the penal legislator is so solicitous
to secure. The point for the exercise of wisdom is, to attain the second
object in attaining the first. A primary regard to the first object is com
patible with many modifications of punishment in order mor^ effectually
to attain the second. If there are two measures of which both tend
alike to reformation, and one tends most to operate as example, that one
should unquestionably be preferred.
There is a third object which, though subordinate to the others, might
perhaps still obtain greater notice from the legislator than it is wont to
do, — restitution or compensation.! Since what are called criminal ac
tions are commonly injuries committed by one man upon another, it ap
pears to be a very obvious dictate of reason that the injury should be
repaired ; — that he from whom the thief steals a purse should regain its
value ; that he who is injured in his person or otherwise should receive
such compensation as he may. When my house is broken into and a
f "The law of nature commands that reparation be made." Mor. and Pol. Phil.b. 6, c.
8. And this dictate of nature appears to have been recognised in the Mosaic law, in which
£om»ensation to the suffarina tmrtvis expressly required.
328 GODWIN ON PUNISHMENT. [ESSAY III.
hundred pounds worth of property is carried off, it is but an imperfect
satisfaction to me that the robber will be punished. I ought to recover
the value of my property. The magistrate, in taking care of the gen
eral, should take care of the individual weal. The laws of England do
now award compensation in damages for some injuries. This is a re
cognition of the principle ; although it is remarkable, not only that the
number of offences which are thus punished is small, but that they are
frequently of a sort in which pecuniary loss has not been sustained by the
injured party.
I do not imagine that in the present state of penal law or of the ad
ministration of justice, a general regard to compensation is practicable,
but this does not prove that it ought not to be regarded. If in an im
proved state of penal affairs it should be found practicable to oblige
offenders to recompense by their labour those who had suffered by their
crime, this advantage would attend, — that while it would probably in
volve considerable punishment, it would approve itself to the offender's
mind as the demand of reason and of justice. This is no trifling con
sideration ; for in every species of coercion and punishment, public or
domestic, it is of consequence that the punished party should feel the
justice and propriety of the measures which are adopted.
The writer of these essays M'ould be among the last to reprobate a
strict adherence to abstract principles, as such ; but some men, in their
zeal for such principles, have proposed strange doctrines upon the sub
ject of punishment. It has been said that when a crime has been com
mitted it cannot be recalled, that it is a " past and irrevocable action,"
and that to inflict pain upon the criminal because he has committed it, " is
one of the wildest conceptions of untutored barbarism." No one per
haps would affirm that, in strictness, such a motive to punishment is right ;
but how, when an offence is committed, can you separate the objects of
punishment so as not practically to punish because the man has offended?
If you regulate the punishment by its legitimate objects, you punish be
cause the offender needs it ; and as all offenders do need it, you punish
all ; — which amounts in practice to nearly the same thing as punishing
because they have committed a crime. However, as an abstract prin
ciple there might be little occasion to dispute about it ; but when it is
made a foundation for such doctrine as the following, it is needful to
recall the supreme authority of the moral law. " We are bound, under
certain urgent circumstances, to deprive the offender of the liberty he
has abused. Further than this, no circumstance can authorize us. The
infliction of further evil, when his power to injure is removed, is the wild
and unauthorized dictate of vengeance and rage." This is affirmative ;
and in turn I would affirm that it is the sober and authorized dictate of
justice and good-will. But indeed why may we even restrain him? Ob
viously for the sake of others ; — and for the sake of others we may also
do more. Besides, this philosophy leaves the offender's reformation out
of the question. If he is so wicked that you are obliged to confine him
lest he should commit violence again, he is so wicked that you are obliged
to confine him for his own good. And in reality the writer himself had
just before virtually disproved his own position : — " Whatever gentle
ness," he says, " the intellectual physician may display, it is not to be
CHAP. 12.] OBJECT OF PUNISHMENT. 329
believed that men can part with rooted habits of injustice and vice with
out the sensation of considerable pain."* But, to occasion this pain in
order to make them part with vicious habits is to do something " fur
ther" than to take away liberty.
Respecting the relative utility of different modes of punishment and of
prison discipline, we have little to say, partly because the practical
recognition of reformation as a primary object affords good security for
the adoption of judicious measures, and partly because these topics have
already obtained much of the public attention. One suggestion may
however be made, that as good consequences have followed from making
a prisoner's confinement depend for its duration on his conduct, so that
if it be exemplary the period is diminished,— there appears no sufficient
reason why the parallel system should not be adopted of increasing the
original sentence if his conduct continue vicious. There is no breach
of reason or of justice in this. For the reasonable object of punishment
is to attain certain ends, and if by the original sentence it is found that
these ends are not attained, reason appears to dictate that stronger
motives should be employed. Tt cannot surely be less reasonable to add
to a culprit's penalty if his conduct be bad, than to deduct from it if it be
good. For a sentence should not be considered as a propitiation of the
law, nor when it is inflicted should it be considered, as of necessity, that
all is done. The sentence which the law pronounces is a general rule,
— good perhaps as a general rule, but sometimes inadequate to its end.
And the utility of retaining the power of adding to a penalty is the same
in kind and probably greater in degree than the power of diminishing it.
In one case the culprit is influenced by hope and in the other by fear.
Fear is the more powerful agent upon some men's minds, and hope upon
others. And as to the justice of such an institution, it appears easily to
be vindicated : for what is the standard of justice ? The sentence of the
law ? No : for if it were it would be unjust to abate of it as well as to
add. Is it the original crime of the offender ? No : for if it were, the
same crime, by whatever variety of conduct it was afterward followed,
must always receive an equal penalty. The standard of justice is to be
estimated by the ends for which punishments are inflicted. Now although
it would be too much to affirm that any penalty or duration of penalty
would be just until these ends were attained, yet surely it is not unjust
to endeavour their attainment by some additions to an original penalty
when they cannot be attained without.
* Godwin : Inq. Pol. Just. v. ii. p. 748,751.
330 PUNISHMENT OF DEATH. [ESSAY III:
CHAPTER XIII.
PUNISHMENT OF DEATH.
I SELECT for observation this peculiar mode of punishment on account
of its peculiar importance.
And here we are impressed at the outset with the consideration, that
of the three great objects which have just been proposed as the proper
ends of punishment, the punishment of death regards but one ; and that
one not the first and the greatest. The only end which is consulted in
taking the life of an offender is that of example to other men. His own
reformation is put almost out of the question. Now if the principles
delivered in the preceding chapter be sound, they present at once an
almost insuperable objection to the punishment of death. If reformation
be the primary object, and if the punishment of death precludes attention
to that object, the punishment of death is wrong.
To take the life of a fellow-creature is to exert the utmost possible
power which man can possess over man. It is to perform an action the
most serious and awful which a human being can perform. Respecting
such an action then, can any truth be more manifest than that the dictates
of Christianity ought especially to be taken into account ? If these
dictates are rightly urged upon us in the minor concerns of life, can any
man doubt whether they ought to influence us in the greatest ? Yet what
is the fact ? Why, that in defending capital punishments these dictates
are almost placed out of the question. We hear a great deal about se
curity of property and life, a great deal about the necessity of making ex
amples, — but almost nothing about the moral law. It might be imagined
that upon this subject our religion imposed no obligations; for nearly
every argument that is urged in favour of capital punishments would be
as valid and as appropriate in the mouth of a pagan as in our own. Can
this be right ? Is it conceivable that in the exercise of the most tre
mendous agency which is in the power of man, it can be right to exclude
all reference to the expressed will of God ?
I acknowledge that this exclusion of the Christian law from the
defences of the punishment is to me almost a conclusive argument that
the punishment is wrong. Nothing that is right can need such an
exclusion ; and we should not practise it if it were not for a secret
perception, that to apply the pure requisitions of Christianity would not
serve the purpose of the advocate. Look for a moment upon the capital
offender and upon ourselves. He. a depraved and deep violator of the
law of God, — one who is obnoxious to the vengeance of heaven, — one,
however, whom Christ came peculiarly to call to repentance and to save.
— Ourselves, his brethren, — brethren by the relationship of nature, —
brethren in some degree in offences against God, — brethren especially
in the trembling hope of a common salvation. How ought beings so
situated to act towards one another? Ought we to kill or to amend him?
Ought we, so far as is in our power, to cut off his future hope, or, so far
CHAP. 13.] CAPITAL PUNISHMENTS. 33!
as is in our power, to strengthen the foundation of that hope ? Is it the
reasonable or decent office of one candidate for the mercy of God to
hang his fellow-candidate upon a gibbet ? I am serious, though men of
levity may laugh. If such men reject Christianity, I do not address them.
If they admit its truth, let them manfully show that its principles should
not thus be applied.
No one disputes that the reformation of offenders is desirable, though
some may not allow it to be the primary object. For the purposes of
reformation we have recourse to constant oversight, — to classification of
offenders, — to regular labour, — to religious instruction. For whom ? —
For minor criminals. Do not the greater criminals need reformation
too ? If all these endeavours are necessary to effect the amendment of
the less depraved, are they not necessary to effect the amendment of the
more ? But we slop just where our exertions are most needed ; as if the
reformation of a bad man was of the less consequence as the intensity
of his wickedness became greater. If prison discipline and a peniten
tiary be needful for sharpers and pickpockets, surely they are necessary
for murderers and highwaymen. Yet we reform the one, and hang the
other !
Since then so much is sacrificed to extend the terror of example, we
ought to be indisputably certain that the terror of capital punishments is
greater than that of all others. We ought not certainly to sacrifice the
requisitions of the Christian law, unless we know that a regard to them
would be attended with public evil.* Do we know this? Are we indis
putably certain that capital punishments are more efficient as examples
than any others ? We are not. We do not know from experience, and
we cannot know without it. In England, the experiment has not been
made. The punishment therefore is wrong in us, whatever it might be
in a more experienced people. For it is wrong unless it can be shown
to be right. It is not a neutral affair. If it is not indispensably neces
sary, it is unwarrantable. And since we do not know that it is indis
pensable, it is, so far as we are concerned, unwarrantable.
And with respect to the experience of other nations, who will affirm
that crimes have been increased in consequence of the diminished fre
quency of executions ? Who will affirm that the laws and punishments
of America are not as effectual as our own? Yet they have abolished
capital punishments for all private crimes except murder of the first
degree. Where then is our pretension to a justification of our own
practice? — It is a satisfaction that so many facts and arguments are
before the public which show the inefficacy of the punishment of death
in this country : and this is one reason why they are not introduced here.
*' There are no practical despisers of death like those who touch, and
taste, and handle death daily, by daily committing capital offences.
They make a jest of death in all its forms : and all its terrors are in
their mouths a scorn."t " Profligate criminals, such as common thieves
and highwaymen," "have always been accustomed to look upon the gibbet
as a lot very likely to fall to them. When it does fall to them therefore
they consider themselves only as not quite so lucky as some of their
companions, and submit to their fortune without any other uneasiness
than what may arise from the fear of death ; a fear which even by such
* We ought not for any reason to do this,— but I speak in the present paragraph of the
pretensions of expediency. t Irving's Orations.
332 INEFFICIENCY OF CAPITAL PUNISHMENTS. [ESSAY III
worthless wretches we frequently see can be so easily and so very com
pletely conquered." A man some time ago was executed for uttering
forged bank-notes, and the body was delivered to his friends. What was
the effect of the example upon them? Why, with the corpse lying on a
bed before them, they were themselves seized in the act of again uttering
forged bank-notes. The testimony upon a subject like this, of a person
who has had probably greater and better opportunities of ascertaining the
practical efficiency of punishments than any other individual in Europe,
is of great importance. " Capital convicts," says Elizabeth Fry, "pacify
their conscience with the dangerous and most fallacious notion that the
violent death which awaits them will serve as a full atonement for all their
sins."* It is their passport to felicity, — the purchase-money of heaven !
Of this deplorable notion the effect is doubly bad. First, it makes them
comparatively little afraid of death, because they necessarily regard it as
so much less an evil : and secondly, it encourages them to go on in the
commission of crimes, because they imagine that the number or enormity
of them, however great, will not preclude them from admission into
heaven. Of both these mischiefs the punishment of death is the imme
diate source. Substitute another punishment, and they will not think
that that is an "atonement for their sins," and will not receive their
present encouragement to continue their crimes. But with respect to
example, this unexceptionable authority speaks in decided language.
"The terror of example is very generally rendered abortive by the predes-
tinarian notion, vulgarly prevalent among thieves, that ' if they are to be
hanged, they are to be hanged, and nothing can prevent it.' "t It may be
said that the same notion might be attached to any other punishment, and
that thus that other would become abortive ; but there is little reason to
expect this, at least in the same degree. The notion is now connected
expressly with hanging, and it is not probable that the same notion would
ever be transferred with equal power to another penalty. — Where then is
the overwhelming evidence of utility, which alone, even in the estimate
of expediency, can justify the punishment of death ? It cannot be ad
duced ; it does not exist.
But if capital punishments do little good they do much harm. " The
frequent public destruction of life has a fearfully hardening effect upon
those whom it is intended to intimidate. While it excites in them the
spirit of revenge, it seldom fails to lower their estimate of the life of
man, and renders them less afraid of taking it away in their turn by acts
of personal violence.":); This is just what a consideration of the princi
ples of the human mind would teach us to expect. To familiarize men
with the destruction of life is to teach them not to abhor that destruction.
It is the legitimate process of the mind in other things. He who blushes
and trembles the first time he utters a lie, learns by repetition to do it
with callous indifference. Now you execute a man in order to do good
by the spectacle, while the practical consequence it appears is, that bad
men turn away from the spectacle more prepared to commit violence than
before. It will be said, that this effect is produced only upon those who
are already profligate, and that a salutary example is held out to the
public. But the answer is at hand, — The public do not usually begin
with capital crimes. These are committed after the person has become
depraved, that is, after he has arrived at that state in which an execution
* Observations on the Visiting, &c. of Female Prisoners, p. 73. f Ib. j Ib,
CHAP. 13.J EFFECTS OF PUBLIC EXECUTIONS. 333
will harden rather than deter him. We " lower their estimate of the
life of man." It cannot be doubted. It is the inevitable tendency of
executions. There is much of justice in an observation of BeccariaV
" Is it not absurd that the laws which detect and punish homicide should,
in order to prevent murder, publicly commit murder themselves ?"* By
the procedures of a coart, we virtually and perhaps literally expatiate
upon the sacredness of human life, upon the dreadful guilt of taking it
away, — and then forthwith take it away ourselves ! It is no subject of
wonder that this " lowers the estimate of the life of man." The next
sentence of the writer upon whose testimony I offer these comments is
of tremendous import : — " There is much reason to believe that our
public executions have had a direct and positive tendency to promote both
murder and suicide.'1'' " Why, if a considerable time elapse between the
trial and the execution, do we find the severity of the public changed into
compassion ? For the same reason that a master, if he do not beat his
slave in the moment of resentment, often feels a repugnance to the beat
ing him at all."f This is remarkable. If executions were put off for a
twelvemonth, I doubt whether the public would bear them. But why if
they were just and right ? Respecting " the contempt and indignation
with which every one looks on an executioner," Beccaria says the reason
is, " that in a secret corner of the mind, in which the original impressions
of nature are still preserved, men discover a sentiment which tells them
that their lives are not lawfully in the power of any one."| Let him who
has the power of influencing the legislature of the country or public
opinion (and who has not ?) consider the responsibility which this decla
ration implies, if he lifts his voice for the punishment of death !
But further: the execution of one offender excites in others "the
spirit of revenge." This is extremely natural. Many a soldier, I dare
say, has felt impelled to revenge the death of his comrades ; and the
member of a gang of thieves, who has fewer restraints of principle, is
likely to feel it too. But upon whom is his revenge inflicted ? Upon
the legislature, or the jury, or the witnesses ? No, but upon the public,
— upon the first person whose life is in their power and which they are
prompted to take away. You execute a man then in order to save the
lives of others ; and the effect is that you add new inducements to take
the lives of others away.
Of a system which is thus unsound, — unsound because it rejects some
of the plainest dictates of the moral law, — and unsound because so many
of its effects are bad, I should be ready to conclude, with no other evi
dence, that it was utterly inexpedient and impolitic, — that as it was bad
in morals it was bad in policy. And such appears to be the fact. •' It
is incontrovertible/ proved that punishments of " a milder and less injurious
nature are calculated to produce, for every good purpose, a far more
powerful effect "§
Finally. "The best of substitutes for capital punishment will be
found in that judicious management of criminals in prison which it is the
object of the present tract to recommend ;"|| — which management is
Christian management, — a system in which reformation is made the first
object, but in which it is found that in order to effect reformation, severity
to hardened offenders is needful. Thus then we arrive at the goal : — we
* Essay on Capital Punishments, ch. 28. t Godwin : Inq. Pol. Just. v. ii. p. 72$
t Beccaria : Essay on Capital Punishments, chap. 28.
$ Observations on the Visiting, &c. of Female Prisoners, p. 75. 1! Ib. p. 76.
334 PAUL— GROTIUS— OF MURDERS. [ESSAY HI
began with urging the system that Christianity dictates as right; we
conclude by discovering that as it is the right system, so it is practically
the best.
But an argument m favour of capital punishments has been raised from
the Christian Scriptures themselves. " If I be an offender, or have com
mitted any thing worthy of death, I refuse not to die/'* This is the lan
guage of an innocent person who was persecuted by malicious enemies.
It was an assertion of innocence ; an assertion that he had done nothing
worthy of death. This case had no reference to the question of the law
fulness of capital punishment, but to the question of the lawfulness of
inflicting it upon him. Nor can it be supposed that it was the design of
the speaker to convey any sanction of the punishment itself, because the
design would have been wholly foreign to the occasion. The argument
of Grotius goes perhaps too far for his own purpose. " If I be an offender,
or have done any thing worthy of death, I refuse not to die." He refused
not to die, then, if he were an offender, if he had done one of the "many
and grievous things" which the Jews charged upon him. But will it be
contended that he meant to sanction the destruction of every person who
was thus u an offender ?" His enemies were endeavouring to take his
life ; and he, in earnest asseveration of his innocence says, If you can
fix your charges upon me, take it.
Grotius adduces, as an additional evidence of the sanction of the punish
ment by Christianity, this passage, — " Servants, be subject to your masters
with all fear, &e. What glory is it if when ye be buffeted for your faults
ye shall take it patiently? but if when ye do well and suffer for it ye take
it patiently, this is acceptable with God."| Some arguments disprove
the doctrine which they are advanced to support, and this surely is one
of them. It surely cannot be true that Christianity sanctions capital
punishments, if this is the best evidence of the sanction that can be
found.}
Some persons again suppose that there is a sort of moral obligation
to take the life of a murderer : — " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man
shall his blood be shed." This supposition is an example of that want
of advertence to the supremacy of the Christian morality, which in the
first essay we had occasion to notice. Our law is the Christian law;
and if Christianity by its precepts or spirit prohibits the punishment of
death, it cannot be made right to Christians by referring to a command
ment which was given to Noah. There is, in truth, some inconsistency
in the reasonings of those who urge the passage. The fourth, fifth, and
sixth verses of Genesis ix. each contains a law delivered to Noah. Of
these three laws we habitually disregard two ; how then can we with
reason insist on the authority of the third ?§
After all, if the command were in full force, it would not justify our
laws ; for they shed the blood of many who have not shed blood them
selves.
And this conducts us to the observation that the grounds upon which
* Acts xxv. 11: see Grotius : Rights of War and Peace. t 1 Pet. ii. 18, 20.
J " Wickliffe," says Priestley, " seems to have thought it wrong to take away the life oi
man on any account."
(j Indeed it would almost appear from Genesis ix. 5, that even accidental homicide was
thus to be punished with death ; and if so, it is wholly disregarded in our present practice.
CHAP. 13.] THE PUNISHMENT OF DEATH IRREVOCABLE. 333
the United States of America still affix death to murder of the first
degree do not appear very clear. For if other punishments are found
effectual in deterring from crimes of all degrees of enormity up to
the last, how is it shown that tiiey would not be effectual in the last
also ? There is nothing in the constitution of the human mind to indicate
that a murderer is influenced by passions which require that the counter
acting power should be totally different from that which is employed to
restrain every other crime. The difference too in the personal guilt of
the perpetrators of some other crimes and of murder is sometimes
extremely small. At any rate it is not so great as to imply a necessity
for a punishment totally dissimilar. The truth appears to be, that men
entertain a sort of indistinct notion that murder is a crime which requires
a peculiar punishment, which notion is often founded, not upon any process
of investigation by which the propriety of this peculiar punishment is
discovered, but upon some vague ideas respecting the nature of the crime
itself. But the dictate of philosophy is, to employ that punishment which
%vill be most efficacious. Efficacy is the test of its propriety ; and in
estimating this efficacy the character of the crime is a foreign considera
tion. Again : the dictate of Christianity is, to employ that punishment
which while it deters the spectator reforms the man. Now neither phi
losophy nor Christianity appears to be consulted in punishing murder
with death because it is murder. And it is worthy of especial remem
brance, that the purpose for which Grotius defends the punishment of
death is, that he may be able to defend the practice of war : — a bad
foundation, if this be its best !
It is one objection to capital punishment that it is absolutely irrevo
cable. If an innocent man suffers it is impossible to recall the sentence
ef the law. Not that this consideration alone is a sufficient argument
against it, but it is one argument among the many. In a certain sense
indeed all personal punishments are irrevocable. The man who by a
mistaken verdict has been confined twelve months in a prison cannot be
repossessed of the time. But if irrevocable punishments cannot be dis
pensed with, they should not be made needlessly common, and especially
those should be regarded with jealousy which admit of no removal or
relaxation in the event of subsequently discovered innocence, or subse
quent reformation. It is not sufficiently considered that a jury or a court
«f justice never know that a prisoner is guilty. A witness may know it
who saw him commit the act, but others cannot know it who depend
upon testimony, for testimony may be mistaken or false. All verdicts
are founded upon probabilities,— probabilities which, though they some
times approach to certainty, never attain to it. Surely it is a serious
thing for one man to destroy another upon grounds short of absolute cer-
tainfy of his guilt. There is a sort of indecency attached to it, — an
assumption of a degree of authority which ought to be exercised only by
him whose knowledge is infallibly true. It is unhappily certain tha.
some have been put to death for actions which they never committed
At one assizes we believe not less than six persons were hanged, ol
whom it was afterward discovered that they were entirely innocent. A
deplorable instance is given by Dr. Smollett :— " Rape and murder were
perpetrated upon an unfortunate woman in the neighbourhood of London,
and an innocent man suffered death for this complicated outrage, while
the real criminals assisted at his execution, heard him appeal to Heaven
for his innocence, and in the character of friends embraced him while
336 MABLY— ROUSSEAU— PASTORET— BECCARIA. [ESSAY III.
he stood on the brink of eternity."* Others equally innocent, but whose
innocence has never been made known, have doubtless shared the same
fate. These are tremendous considerations, and ought to make men
solemnly pause before, upon grounds necessarily uncertain, they take
away that life which God has given, and which they cannot restore.
Of the merely philosophical speculations respecting the rectitude of
capital punishments, whether affirmative or negative, I would say little ;
for they in truth deserve little. One advantage indeed attends a brief
review, — that the reader will perceive how little the speculations of
philosophers will aid us in the investigation of a Christian question.
The philosopher however would prove what the Christian cannot ; and
Mably accordingly says, " In the state of nature I have a right to take
the life of him who lifts his arm against mine. This right, upon enter
ing into society, I surrender to the magistrate" If we conceded the truth
of the first position (which we do not), the conclusion from it is an idle
sophism ; for it is obviously preposterous to say, that because I have a
right to take the life of a man who will kill me if I do not kill him, the
state, which is in no such danger, has a right to do the same. That danger
which constitutes the alleged right in the individual, does not exist in the
case of the state. The foundation of the right is gone, and where can be
the right itself? Having, however, been thus told that the state has a right
to kill, we are next informed by Filangieri that the criminal has no
right to live. He says, u If I have a right to kill another man, he has
lost Ids right to /z/e."f Rousseau goes a little further. He tells us, that
in consequence of the " social contract" which we make with the sovereign
on entering into society, " Life is a conditional grant of the state :"{ so
that we hold our lives, it seems, only as " tenants at will," and must
give them up whenever their owner, the state, requires them. The
reader has probably hitherto thought that he retained his head by some
other tenure.
The right of taking an offender's life being thus proved, Mably shows
us how its exercise becomes expedient. " A murderer," says he, u in
taking away his enemy's life, believes he does him the greatest possible evil.
Death, then, in the murderer's estimation, is the greatest of evils. By
the fear of death, therefore, the excesses of hatred and revenge must be
restrained." If language wilder than this can be held, Rousseau, I think,
holds it. He says u The preservation of both sides (the criminal and the
state) is incompatible ; one of the two must perish." How it happens
that a nation " must perish" if a convict is not hanged, the reader, I
suppose, will not know. Even philosophy, however, concedes as
much. "Absolute necessity alone" says Pastoret, ft can justify the pun
ishment of death ;" and Rousseau himself acknowledges that " we have
no right to put to death, even for the sake of example, any but those who
cannot be permitted to live without danger." Beccaria limits the right
to one specific case, — and in doing this he appears to sacrifice his own
principle (deduced from that splendid fiction, the " social contract"), which
is, that " the punishment of death is not authorized by any right : — no
such right exists."
For myself, I perceive little value in such speculations to whatever
conclusions they lead, for there are shorter and surer roads to truth ; but
* Hist. Eng. v. iii. p. 318. t Montagu on Punishment of Death.
J Contr. Soc. ii. 5, Montagu.
CHAP. 14.] RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 337
it is satisfactory to find that even upon the principles of such philosophers,
the right to put criminals to death is not easily made out.
The argument then respecting the punishment of death is both distinct
and short.
It rejects, by its very nature, a regard to the first and greatest object
of punishment.
It does not attain either of the other objects so well as they may be
attained by other means.
It is attended with numerous evils peculiarly its own.
CHAPTER XIV.
RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.
A LARGE number of persons embark from Europe and colonize an unin
habited territory in the South Sea. They erect a government, — suppose
a republic, — and make all persons, of whatever creed, eligible to the
legislature. The community prospers and increases. In process of
time a Member of the legislature, who is a disciple of John Wesley, per
suades himself that it will tend to the promotion of religion that the
preachers of Methodism should be supported by a national tax ; that their
stipends should be sufficiently ample to prevent them from necessary
attention to any business but that of religion ; and that accordingly they
shall be precluded from the usual pursuits of commerce and from the pro
fessions. He proposes the measure. It is contended against by the
Episcopalian members, and the Independents, and the Catholics, and the
Unitarians, — by all but the adherents to his own creed. They insist upon
the equality of civil and religious rights, but in vain. The majority prove
to be Methodists ; they support the measure : the law is enacted ; and
Methodism becomes henceforth the religion of the state. This is a Re-
ligious Establishment.
But it is a religious establishment in its best form ; and perhaps none
ever existed of which the constitution was so simple and so pure. Dur
ing one portion of the papal history the Romish church was indeed not
so much an " establishment" of the state as a separate and independent
constitution. For though some species of alliance subsisted, yet the
Romanists did not acknowledge, as Protestants now do, that the power of
establishing a religion resides in the state.
In the present day, other immunities are possessed by ecclesiastical
establishments than those which are necessary to constitute the institu
tion,— such for example, as that of exclusive eligibility to the legislature :
and other alliances with the civil power exist than that which necessarily
results from any preference of a particular faith, — such as that of placing
ecclesiastical patronage in the hands of a government, or of those who
arc under its influence. From these circumstances it happens, that in
Y
338 THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH. [ESSAY m.
inquiring into the propriety of religious establishments we cannot* con
fine ourselves to the inquiry \vhether they would be proper in their sim
plest form, but whether they are proper as they usually exist. And this
is so much the more needful, because there is little reason to expect that
when once an ecclesiastical establishment has been erected, — when
once a particular church has been selected for the preference and patron
age of the civil power, — that preference and patronage will be confined
to those circumstances which are necessary to the subsistence of an estab
lishment at all.
It is sufficiently obvious that it matters nothing to the existence of an
established church, what the faith of that church is, or what is the form
of its government. It is not the creed which constitutes the establish
ment, but the preference of the civil power ; and accordingly the reader
will be pleased to bear in mind that neither in this chapter nor in the
next have we any concern with religious opinions. Our business is not
with churches, but with church establishments.
The actual history of religious establishments in Christian countries,
does not differ in essence from that which we have supposed in the South
Sea. They have been erected by the influence or the assistance of the
civil power. In one country a religion may have owed its political
supremacy to the superstitions of a prince ; and in another to his policy
or ambition : but the effect has been similar. Whether superstition or
policy, the contrivances of a priesthood, or the fortuitous predominance of
a party, have given rise to the established church, is of comparatively
little consequence to the fundamental principles of the institution.
Of the divine right of a particular church to supremacy I say nothing ;
because none with whom I am at present concerned to argue imagine
that it exists.
The only ground upon which it appears that religious establishments
can be advocated are, first, that of example or approbation in the primi
tive churches; and, secondly, that of public utility.
I. The primitive church was not a religious establishment in any sense
or in any degree. No establishment existed until the church had lost
much of its purity. Nor is there any expression in the New Testament,
direct or indirect, which would lead a reader to suppose that Christ or
his apostles regarded an establishment as an eligible institution. " We
find, in his religion, no scheme of building up a hierarchy or of minister
ing to the views of human governments"—" Our religion, as it came out
of the hands of its Founder and his apostles, exhibited a complete abstrac
tion from all views either of ecclesiastical or civil policy"* The evidence
which these facts supply respecting the moral character of religious estab
lishments, whatever be its weight, tends manifestly to show that that
character is not good. I do not say because Christianity exhibited this
"complete abstraction," that it therefore necessarily condemned establish
ments ; but I say that the bearing and the tendency of this negative testi
mony is against them.
In the discourses and writings of the first teachers of our religion we
find such absolute disinterestedness, so little disposition to assume polit
ical superiority, that to have become the members of an established
church would certainly have been inconsistent in them. It is indeed
almost inconceivable that they could ever have desired the patronage of
* Paley : Evidences of Christianity p. 2, c. 9.
CHAP. 14.] 1NUTILITY OF RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 339
the state for themselves or for their converts. No man conceives that
Paul or John could have participated in the exclusion of any portion of
the Christian church from advantages which they themselves enjoyed.
Every man perceives that to have done this would have been to assume
a new character, a character which they had never exhibited before, and
which was incongruous with their former principles and motives of action.
But why is this incongruous with the apostolic character unless it is incon
gruous with Christianity ? Upon this single ground, therefore, there is
reason for the sentiment of " many well informed persons, that it seems
extremely questionable whether the religion of Jesus Christ admits of
any civil establishment at all."*
I lay stress upon these considerations. We all know that much may
be learned respecting human duty by a contemplation of the spirit and
temper of Christianity as it was exhibited by its first teachers. When
the spirit and temper is compared with the essential character of reli
gious establishments they are found to be incongruous, — foreign to one
another, — having no natural relationship or similarity. I should regard
such facts, in reference to any question of rectitude, as of great impor
tance ; but upon a subject so intimately connected with religion itself,
the importance is peculiarly great.
II. The question of the utility of religious establishments is to be
decided by a comparison of their advantages and their evils.
Of their advantages, the first and greatest appears to be that they pro
vide, or are assumed to provide, religious instruction for the whole com
munity. If this instruction be left by the state to be cared for by each
Christian church as it possesses the zeal or the means, it may be sup
posed that many districts will be destitute of any public religious in
struction. At least the state cannot be assured beforehand that ev.ery
district will be supplied. And when it is considered how great is the
importance of regular public worship to the virtue of a people, it is not
to be denied that a scheme which, by destroying an establishment, would
make that instruction inadequate or uncertain, is so far to be regarded as
of questionable expediency. But the effect which would be produced
by dispensing with establishments is to be estimated, so far as is in our
power, by facts. Now dissenters are in the situation of separate unes-
tablished churches. If they do not provide for the public officers of reli
gion voluntarily, they will not be provided for. Yet where is any con
siderable body of dissenters to be found who do not provide themselves
with a chapel and a preacher ? And if those churches which are not
established do in fact provide public instruction, how is it shown that it
would not be provided although there were no established religion in a
state ? Besides, the dissenters from an established church provide this
under peculiar disadvantages; for after paying, in common with others,
their quota to the state religion, they have to pay in addition to their own.
But perhaps it will be said that dissenters from a state religion are ac
tuated by a zeal with which the professors of that religion are not ; and
that the legal provision supplies the deficiency of zeal. If this be said,
the inquiry imposes itself, — How does this disproportion of zeal arise ?
Why should dissenters be more zealous than churchmen? What account
can be given of the matter, but that there is something in the patronage
of the state which induces apathy upon the church that it prefers ? One
* £>ftnpson's Plea for Religion and the Sacred Writings.
Y2
340 ESTABLISHED CHURCH IN IRELAND. [ESSAY III.
other account may indeed be offered, — that to be a dissenter is to be a
positive religionist, while to be a churchman is frequently only to be
nothing else ; that an establishment embraces all who are not embraced
by others ; and that if those whom other churches do not include were
not cared for by the state religion, they would not be cared for at all.
This is an argument of apparent weight, but the effect of reasoning is
to diminish that weight. For what is meant by " including," by "caring
for," the indifferent and irreligious ? An established church only offers
them instruction : it does not *' compel them to come in ;" and we have
just seen that this offer is made by unestablished churches also. Who
doubts whether, in a district that is sufficient to fill a temple of the state
religion, there would be found persons to offer a temple of public worship
though the state did not compel it? Who doubts whether this would be
the case if the district were inhabited by dissenters ? and if it would not
be done, supposing the inhabitants to belong to the state religion, the con
clusion is inevitable, that there is a tendency to indifference resulting
from the patronage of the state. -
Let us listen to the testimony of Archbishop Newcome. He speaks
of Ireland, and says, " Great numbers of country parishes are without
churches, notwithstanding the largeness and frequency of parliamentary
grants for building them ;" but " meeting-houses and Romish chapels,
which are built and repaired with greater zeal, are in sufficient numbers
about the country."* This is remarkable testimony indeed. That
church which is patronised and largely assisted by the state does not
provide places for public worship : those churches which are not pat
ronised and not assisted by the state, do provide them, and provide them
in " sufficient numbers" and " with greater zeal." What then becomes
of the argument, that a church establishment is necessary in order to
provide instruction which would not otherwise be provided?
Yet here one point must be conceded. It does not follow because one
particular state religion is thus deficient that none would be more exem
plary. The fault may not be so much in religious establishments, as
suck, as in that particular establishment which obtains in the instance
before us.
Kindred to the testimony of the Irish primate is the more cautious lan
guage of the Archdeacon of Carlisle: — "I do not know," says he, "that
it is in any degree true that the influence of religion is the greatest where
there are the fewest dissenters."! This I suppose may lawfully be inter
preted into positive language, — that the influence of religion is the
greatest where there are numerous dissenters. But if numerous adhe
rents to unestablished churches be favourable to religion, it would appear
that although there were none but unestablished churches in a country,
the influence of religion would be kept up. If established churches are
practically useful to religion, what more reasonable than to expect that
where they possessed the more exclusive operation their utility would
be the greatest ? Yet the contrary it appears is the fact. It may indeed
be urged that it is the existence of a state religion which animates the
zeal of the other churches, and that in this manner the state religion does
good. To which it is a sufficient answer, that the benefit, if it is thus
occasioned, is collateral and accidental, and offers no testimony in favour
* See Gisborne's Duties of Men.
f Paiey : Evidences of Christianity.
CHAP. 14.] AMERICA— PALEY. 341
of establishments as such ; — and this is our concern. Besides, there
are many sects to animate the zeal of one another, even though none
were patronised by the state.
To estimate the relative influence of religion in two countries is no
easy task. Yet I believe if we compare its influence in the United
States with that which it possesses in most of the European countries
which possess state religions, it will be found that the balance is in
favour of the community in which there is no established church : at
any rate, the balance is not so much against it as to afford any evidence
in favour of a state religion. A traveller in America has remarked,
" There is more religion in the United States than in England, and more
in England than in Italy. The closer the monopoly, the less abundant
the supply."* Another traveller writes almost as if he had anticipated
the present disquisition — " It has been often said, that the disinclination
of the heart to religious truth renders a state establishment absolutely
necessary for the purpose of Christianizing the country. Ireland and
America can furnish abundant evidence of the fallacy of such an hypoth
esis. In the one country we see an ecclesiastical establishment of the
most costly description utterly inoperative in dispelling ignorance or re
futing error ; in the other, no establishment of any kind, and yet religion
making daily and hourly progress, promoting inquiry, diffusing know
ledge, strengthening the weak, and mollifying the hardened.*'!
In immediate connexion with this subject is the argument that Dr.
Paley places at the head of those which he advances in favour of reli
gious establishments, — that the knowledge and profession of Christianity
cannot be upholden without a clergy supported by legal provision, and be
longing to one sect of Christians.^ The justness of this proposition is
founded upon the necessity of research. It is said that " Christianity is
an historical religion," and that the truth of its history must be investi
gated ; that in order to vindicate its authority, and to ascertain its truths,
leisure and education and learning are indispensable, — so that such " an
order of clergy is necessary to perpetuate the evidences of revelation,
and to interpret the obscurity of those ancient writings in which the reli
gion is contained." To all this there is one plain objection, that when
once the evidences of religion are adduced and made public, when once
the obscurity of the ancient writings is interpreted, the work, so far as
discovery is concerned, is done ; and it can hardly be imagined that an
established clergy is necessary in perpetuity to do that which in its own
nature can be done but once. Whatever may have been The validity of
this argument in other times, when but few of the clergy possessed any
learning, or when the evidences of religion had not been sought out, it
possesses little validity now. These evidences are brought before the
world in a form so clear and accessible to literary and good men, that in
the present state of society there is little reason to fear they will be lost
for want of an established church. Nor is it to be forgotten, that, with
respect to our own country, the best defences of Christianity which exist
in the language have not been the work either of the established clergy
or of members of the established church. The expression that such
" an order of clergy is necessary to perpetuate the evidences of revela
tion," appears to contain an illusion. Evidences can in no other sense
be perpetuated than by being again and again brought before the public,
* Hall. f Duncan's Trav. in America. J See Mor and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 10.
342 EFFECTS OF AN ALLIANCE [ESSAY III.
If this be the meaning, it belongs rather to the teaching of religious
truths than to their discovery ; but it is upon the discovery, it is upon the
opportunity of research, that the argument is founded : and it is particu
larly to be noticed, that this is the primary argument which Paley ad
duces in deciding " the first and most fundamental question upon the
subject."
It pleases Providence to employ human agency in the vindication and
diffusion of his truth ; but to employ the expression, " the knowledge
and profession of Christianity" cannot be upholden without an estab
lished clergy, approaches to irreverence. Even a rejecter of Chris
tianity says, " If public worship be conformable to reason, reason with
out doubt will prove adequate to its vindication and support. If it be
from God it is profanation to imagine that it stands in need of the alli
ance of the state."* And it is clearly untrue in fact ; because, without
such a clergy, it is "actually upheld, and because, during the three first
centuries, the religion subsisted and spread and prospered without any
encouragement from the state. And it is remarkable too that the diffu
sion of Christianity in our own times in pagan nations is effected less
by the clergy of established churches than by others. f
Such are among the principal of the direct advantages of religious
establishments as they are urged by those who advocate them. Some
others will be noticed in inquiring into the opposite question of their
disadvantages.
, These disadvantages respect either the institution itself, — or religion
generally, — or the civil welfare of a people.
I. The institution itself. " The single end we ought to propose by-
religious establishments is, the preservation and communication of reli
gious knowledge. Every other idea, and every other end, that have been
mixed with this, as the making of the church an engine, or even an ally,
of the state ; converting it into the means of strengthening or diffusing
influence ; or regarding it as a support of regal, in opposition to popular
forms of government ; have served only to debase the institution, and to
introduce into it numerous corruptions and abuses."^ This is undoubtedly
true. Now we affirm that this " debasement of the institution," this
" introduction of numerous corruptions and abuses," is absolutely insep
arable from religious establishments as they ordinarily exist ; that wher
ever and whenever a state so prefers and patronises a particular church,
these debasements and abuses and corruptions will inevitably arise.
" An engine or ally of the state." How will you frame — I will not
say any religious establishment, but — any religious establishment, that
approaches to the ordinary character, without making it an engine or ally
of the state ? Alliance is involved in the very idea of the institution.
The state selects, and prefers, and grants privileges to a particular
church. The continuance of these privileges depends upon the con
tinuance of the state in its present principles. If the state is altered,
the privileges are endangered or may be swept away. The privileged
church therefore is interested in supporting the state, in standing by it
against opposition ; or, which is the same thing, that church becomes an
ally of the state. You cannot separate the effect from the cause.
* Godwin's Pol. Just, ii, 608. f In the preceding discussion, I have left out all refer
ence to the proper qualification or appointment of Christian ministers, and have assumed
(but without conceding) that the magistrate is at liberty to adjust those matters if he pleases
t Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil b 6 c 10
CHAP, 14.] OF A CHURCH WITH THE STATE. 343
Wherever the state prefers and patronises one church, there will be an
alliance between the state and that church. There may be variations in
the strength of this alliance. The less the patronage of the state, the
less strong the alliance will be. Or there may be emergencies in which
the alliance is suspended by the iniluence of stronger interests ; but still
the alliance, as a general consequence of the preference of the state, will
inevitably subsist. When therefore Dr. Paley says that to make an
establishment an ally of the state is to introduce into it numerous corrup
tions and abuses, he in fact says that to make an establishment at all is
to introduce into a church numerous corruptions and abuses.
It matters nothing what the doctrines or constitution of the church may
be. The only point is, the alliance, and its degree. It may be Epis
copal, or Presbyterian, or Independent ; but wherever the degree of alli
ance, — that is of preference and patronage is great, — there the abuses
and corruptions will be great. In this country during a part of .die sev
enteenth century Independency became, in effect, the established -church.
It became of course an ally of the state ; and fought from its pulpits the
battles of the state. Nor will any one I suppose deny that this alliance
made Independency worse than it was before ; — that it "introduced into
it corruptions and abuses."
The less strict the alliance, the fewer the corruptions that spring from
an alliance. One state may impose a test to distinguish the ministers
of the preferred church, and leave the selection to the church itself:
another may actually appoint some or all of the ministers. These dif
ferences in the closeness of the alliance will produce differences in the
degree of corruption ; but alliance and corruption in both cases there will
be. He who receives a legal provision from the minister of the day,
will lend his support to the minister of the day. He who receives it by
the operation ol a general law, will lend his support to that political
system which is likely to perpetuate that law.
" The means of strengthening or diffusing influence." This abuse of
religious establishments is pre-supposed in the question of alliance. It
is by the means of influence that the alliance is produced. There may
be and there are gradations in the directness or rlagrancy of the exercise
of influence, but influence of some kind is inseparable from the selection
and preference of a particular church.
" A support of regal in opposition to popular forms of government."
This attendant upon religious establishments is accidental. An establish
ment will support that form, whatever it be, by which it is itself supported.
In one country it may be the ally of republicanism, in another of aristoc
racy, and in another of monarchy ; but in all it will be the ally of its own
patron. The establishment of France supported the despotism of the
Louises. The establishment of Spain supports at this hour the pitiable
policy of Ferdinand. So accurately is alliance maintained, that in a
mixed government it will be found that an establishment adheres to that
branch of the government by which its own pre-eminence is most sup
ported. In England the strictest alliance is between the church and the
executive ; and accordingly, in ruptures between the executive and
legislative powers, the establishment has adhered to the former. There
was an exception in the reign of James II. : but it was an exception
which confirms the rule ; for the establishment then found or feared that
its alliance with the regal power was about to be broken.
Seeing then that the debasement of a Christian church, — that the
344 TEMPTATION TO [ESSAY III.
introduction into it of corruptions and abuses is inseparable from
religious establishments, what is this debasement and what are these
abuses and corruptions ?
Now, without entering into minute inquiry, many evils arise obviously
from the nature of the case. Here is an introduction into the office of
the Christian ministry of motives, and interests, and aims, foreign to the
proper business of the office ; and not only foreign but incongruous and
discordant with it. Here are secular interests mixed up with the motives
of religion. Here are temptations to assume the ministerial function in
the church that is established, for the sake of its secular advantages.
Here are inducements, when the function is assumed, to accommodate
the manner of its exercise to the inclinations of the state ; to suppress,
for example, some religious principles which the civil power does not
wish to see inculcated; to insist for the same reason with undue emphasis
upon others ; in a word, to adjust the religious conduct so as to strengthen
or perpetuate the alliance with the state. It is very easy to perceive that
these temptations will and must frequently prevail ; and wherever they
do prevail, there the excellence and dignity of the Christian ministry are
diminished, are depressed : there Christianity is not exemplified in its
purity : there it is shorn of a portion of its beams. The extent of the
evil will depend of course upon the vigour of the cause ; that is to say,
fhe evil will be proportionate to the alliance. If a religious establish
ment were erected in which the executive power of the country appointed
all its ministers, there would, I doubt not, ensue an almost universal
corruption of the ministry. As an establishment recedes in its constitu
tion from this closeness of alliance, a corresponding increase of purity
may be expected.
During the reformation, and in Queen Elizabeth's time, " of nine
thousand four hundred beneficed clergy" (adherents to papacy), " only
one hundred and seventy-seven resigned their preferment rather than
acknowledge the queen's supremacy ;"* yet the pope to them was head
of the church. One particular manner in which the establishment of a
church injures the character of the church itself is, by the temptation
which it holds out to equivocation or hypocrisy. It is necessary to the
preference of the teachers of a particular sect that there should be some
means of discovering who belong to that sect : — there must be some test.
Before the man who is desirous of undertaking the ministerial office
there are placed two roads, one of which conducts to those privileges
which a state religion enjoys, and the other does not. The latter may
be entered by all who will : the former by those only who affirm their
belief of the rectitude of some church forms or of some points of theology.
It requires no argument to prove that this is to tempt men to affirm that
which they do not believe ; that it is to say to the man who does not
believe the stipulated points, Here is money for you if you will violate
your conscience. By some the invitation will be accepted ;| and what
is the result ? Why that, just as they are going publicly to insist upon
the purity and sanctity of the moral law, they violate that law themselves.
The injury which is thus done to a Christian church by establishing it
is negative as well as positive. You not only tempt some men to equivo-
* Soulhey: Book of the Church, Sir Thomas More.
t " Chillingworth declared in a letter to Dr. Sheldon, that if he subscribed he subscribed
his own damnation, and yet in no long space of time, he actually did subscribe to the articles
of the church, again and again." — Simpson's Plea.
CHAP. 14.] EQUIVOCATION AND HYPOCRISY.
345
cation or hypocrisy, but exclude from the office others of sounder
integrity. Two persons, both of whom do not assent to the prescribed
points, are desirous of entering the church. One is upright and con-
scientious, the other subservient and unscrupulous. An establishment
excludes the good man and admits the bad. " Though some purposes
of order and tranquillity may be answered by the establishment of creeds
and confessions, yet they are at all times attended with serious inconve
niences : they check inquiry ; they violate liberty ; they ensnare the
consciences of the clergy, by holding out temptations to prevarication."*
And with respect to the habitual accommodation of the exercise of the
ministry to the desires of the state, it is manifest that an enlightened and
faithful minister may frequently find himself restrained by a species of
political leading-strings. He has not the full command of his intellectual
and religious attainments. He may not perhaps communicate the whole
counsel of God.f It was formerly conceded to the English clergy that
they might preach against the horrors and impolicy of war, provided they
were not chaplains to regiments or in the navy. Conceded ! Then if
the state had pleased it might have withheld the concession ; and
accordingly from some the state did withhold it. They were prohibited
to preach against that against which apostles wrote ! What would these
apostles have said if a state had bidden them keep silence respecting the
most unchristian custom in the world ? They would have said, Whether
we ought to obey God rather than man, judge ye. What would they
have done ? They would have gone away and preached against it as
before. One question more should be asked, — What would they have
said to an alliance which thus brought the Christian minister under
bondage to the state?
The next point of view in which a religious establishment is injurious
to the church itself is, that it perpetuates any evils which happen to exist
in it. The reason is this : the preference which a state gives to a par
ticular church is given to it as it is. If the church makes alterations in
its constitution, its discipline, or its forms, it cannot tell whether the state
would continue to prefer and to patronise it. Besides, if alterations are
begun, its members do not know whether the alacrity of some other
church might not take advantage of the loosening alliance with the state,
to supplant it. In short, they do not know what would be the conse
quences of amendments, nor where they would end. Conscious that the
church as it is possesses the supremacy, they think it more prudent to
retain that supremacy with existing evils than to endanger it by attempt
ing to reform them. Thus it is that while unestablished churches alter
their discipline or constitution as need appears to require, established
churches remain century after century the saine.j: Not to be free to alter,
can only then be right when the church is at present as perfect as it can
be ; and no one perhaps will gravely say that there is any established
church on the globe which needs no amendment. Dr. Hartley devoted
a portion of his celebrated work to a discussion of the probability that
all the existing church establishments in the world would be dissolved ;
* Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 10.
t " Honest and disinterested boldness in the path of duty is one of the first requisites of a
minuter of the gospel." — Gisborne. But how shall they be thus disinterested? — Mem. in th*
jt/r o
} It was not to religious establishments that Protestants were indebted for the first efforts
of reformation. They have uniformly resisted reformation. — Mtm. in the MS.
15
346 DISADVANTAGES ATTENDANT UPON [Ess*Y III,
and he founds this probability expressly upon the ground that they need
so much reformation.
"In all exclusive establishments, where temporal emoluments are
annexed to the profession of a certain system of doctrines, and the usage
of a certain routine of forms, and appropriated to an order of men so and
so qualified, that order of men will naturally think themselves interested
that things should continue as they are. A reformation might endanger
their emoluments."* This is the testimony of a dignitary of one of these
establishments. And the fact being admitted, what is the amount of the
evil which it involves? Let another dignitary reply: "He who, by a
diligent and faithful examination of the original records, dismisses from
the system one article which contradicts the apprehension, the experience,
or the reasoning of mankind, does more towards recommending the belief,
and with the belief the influence of Christianity, to the understandings
and consciences of serious inquirers, and through them to universal
reception and authority, than can be effected by a thousand contenders
for creeds and ordinances of human establishments." If the benefits of
dismissing such an article are so great, what must be the evil of con
tinuing it ? If the benefit of dismissing one such article be so great,
what must be the evil of an established system which tends habitually
and constantly to retain many of them 1 Yet these " articles, which thus
contradict the reasoning of mankind," are actually retained by established
churches. "Creeds and confessions," says Dr. Paley, " however they
may express the persuasion, or be accommodated to the controversies or
to the fears of the age in which they are composed, in process of time,
and by reason of the changes which are wont to take place in the judg
ment of mankind upon religious subjects, they come at length to contra
dict the actual opinions of the church whose doctrines they profess to
contain."! It is then confessed by the members of an established church
that religious establishments powerfully obstruct the belief, the influence,
the universal reception, and authority of Christianity. Great, indeed,
must be the counter-advantages of these establishments if they counter
balance this portion of its evils.
II. This last paragraph anticipates the second class of disadvantages
attendant upon religious establishments : their ill effects upon religion
generally. It is indisputable, that much of the irreligion of the world has
resulted from those things which have been mixed up with Christianity
and placed before mankind as parts of religion. In some countries, the
mixture has been so flagrant that the majority of the thinking part of the
population have almost rejected religion altogether. So it was, and so
it may be feared it still is, in France. The intellectual part of her
people rejected religion, not because they had examined Christianity
and were convinced that it was a fiction, but because they had examined
what was proposed to them as Christianity and found it was absurd or false.
So numerous were " the articles that contradicted the experience and
judgment of mankind," that they concluded the whole was a fable, and
rejected the whole.
Now that which the French church establishment did in an extreme
degree, others do in a less degree. If the French church retained a hun
dred articles that contradicted the judgment of mankind, and thus made a
* Archdeacon Blackburn's Confessional: Pref.
t Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. vi. c. 10.
CHAP. 14.] RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 347
nation of unbelievers, the church which retains ten or five such arti
cles, weakens the general influence of religion, although it may not de
stroy it.
Nor is it meiely by unauthorized doctrinal articles or forms that the
influence of religion is impaired, but by the general evils which affect
the church itself. It is sufficiently manifest, that whatever tends to
diminish the virtue or to impeach the character of the ministers of reli
gion must tend to diminish the influence of religion upon mankind. If
the teacher is not good, we are not to expect goodness in the taught. If
a man enters the church with impure or unworthy motives, he cannot do
his duty when he is there. If he makes religion subservient to interest
in his own practice, he cannot effectually teach others to make religion
paramount to all. Men associate (they ought to do it less) the idea of
religion with that of its teachers ; and their respect for one is frequently
measured by their respect for the other. Now, that the effect of religious
establishments has been to depress their teachers in the estimation of
mankind cannot be disputed. The effect is, in truth, inevitable. And
it is manifest, that whatever conveys disrespectful ideas of religion dimin
ishes its influence upon the human mind. — In brief, we have seen that
to establish a religion is morally pernicious to its ministers ; and what
ever is injurious to them, diminishes the power of religion in the world.
Christianity is a religion of good-will and kind affections. Its essence,
so far as the intercourse of society is concerned, is love. Whatever
diminishes good-will and kind affections among Christians, attacks the
essence of Christianity. Now religious establishments do this. They
generate ill-will, heart-burnings, animosities, — those very things which
our religion deprecates more almost than any other. It is obvious that if
a fourth or a third of a community think they are unreasonably excluded
from privileges which the other parts enjoy, feelings of jealousy or envy
are likely to be generated. If the minority are obliged to pay to the
support of a religion they disapprove, these feelings are likely to be
exacerbated. They soon become reciprocal : attacks are made by one
party and repelled by another, till there arises an habitual sense of un-
kindness or ill-will. I once met with rather a grotesque definition of
religious dissent, but it illustrates our proposition : — " Dissenterism, —
that is, " systematic opposition to the established religion." — The deduc
tion from the practical influence of religion upon the minds of men which
this effect of religious establishments occasions, is great. — The evil I
trust is diminishing in the world ; but then the diminution results, not
from religious establishments, but from that power of Christianity which
prevails against these evils.
From these and from other evidences of the injurious effects of
religious eatablishments upon the religious condition of mankind, we
shall perhaps be prepared to assent to the observations which follow :
" The placing all the religious sects (in America) upon an equal footing with respect to
the government of the country has effectually secured the peace of the community, at the
same time that it has essentially promoted the interests of truth and virtue." — Mem. Dr.
Priestley, p. 175 ; Mem. in the MS,
Pennsylvania. — " Although there are so many sects and such a difference of religious
opinions in this province, it is surprising the harmony which subsists among them ; they con
sider themselves as children of the same father, and live like brethren, because they have
the liberty of thinking like men ; to this pleasing harmony in a great measure is to beattrib
uted the rapid and flourishing state of Pennsylvania above all the other provinces." — Travels
through the interior parts of North America, by an officer, 1791. Lond. The officer wa»
Thomas Auburey, who was taken prisoner by the Americans. — Mem. in the MS.
348 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS INCOMPATIBLE [ESSAY III.
" The history of the last eighteen centuries does, indeed, afford, in various
ways, a strong presumptive evidence that the cause of true Christianity
has very materially suffered in the world, in consequence of the connex
ion between the church and the state. It is probably in great meas
ure the consequence of such a union that the church has assumed, in
almost all Christian countries, so secular a character — that Christianity
has become so lamentably mixed up with the spirit, maxims, motives,
and politics, of a vain and evil world. Had the union in question never
been attempted, pure religion might probably have found a freer course ;
the practical effects of Christianity might have been more unmixed, and
more extensive ; and it might have spread its influence in a much more
efficient manner than is now the case, even over the laws and politics of
kings and nations. Before its union with the state, our holy religion
flourished with comparative incorruptness ; afterward it gradually de
clined ia its purity and its power, until all was nearly lost in darkness,
superstition, and spiritual tyranny."* " Religion should remain distinct
from the political constitution of a state. Intermingled with it, what pur
poses can it serve, except the baneful purposes of communicating and
of receiving contamination ?"f
III. Then as to the effect of religious establishments upon the civil
welfare of a state, — we know that the connexion between religious and
civil welfare is intimate and great. Whatever therefore diminishes the
influence of religion upon a people, diminishes their general welfare. In
addition however to this general consideration, there are some particular
modes of the injurious effect of religious establishments which it may
be proper to notice.
And first, religious establishments are incompatible with complete reli
gious liberty. This consideration we requested the reader to bear in
mind when the question of religious liberty was discussed.J " If an
establishment be right, religious liberty is not ; and if religious liberty
be right, an establishment is not." Whatever arguments therefore exist
to prove the rectitude of complete religious liberty, they prove at the
same time the wrongness of religious establishments. Nor is this all :
for it is the manifest tendency of these establishments to withhold an
increase of religious liberty, even when on other grounds it would be
granted. The secular interests of the state religion are set in array
against an increase of liberty. If the established church allows other
churches to approach more nearly to an equality with itself, its own rela
tive eminence is diminished ; and if by any means the state religion adds
to its own privileges it is by deducting from the privileges of the rest.
The state religion is besides afraid to dismiss any part even of its confess
edly useless privileges, lest when an alteration is begun it should not easily
be stopped. And there is no reason to doubt that it is temporal rather
than religious considerations, — interest rather than Christianity, which
now occasions restrictions and disabilities and tests.
In conformity with these views, persecution has generally been the
work of religious establishments. Indeed some alliance or some coun
tenance at least from the state is necessary to a systematic persecution.
Popular outrage may persecute men on account of their religion, as it
often has done ; but fixed stated persecutions have perhaps always been
the work of the religion of the state. It was the state religion of Rome
• J. J. Gurney : Peculiarities, c. 7. f Charles James Fox : Fell's Life. £ Essay 3. c. 4.
CHAP. 14.] WITH RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 349
that persecuted the first Christians. — " Who was it that crucified the
Saviour of the world for attempting to reform the religion of his country?
The Jewish priesthood. — Who was it that drowned the altars of their
idols with the blood of Christians for attempting to abolish paganism !
The Pagan priesthood. — Who was it that persecuted to flames and death
those who in the time of WicklifTe and his followers laboured to reform
the errors of popery? The popish priesthood. — Who was it and who is
it that both in England and in Ireland since the reformation — but I check
my hand, being unwilling to reflect upon the dead or to exasperate the
living."* — We also are unwilling to reflect upon or to exasperate, but our
business is with plain truth. Who then was it that since the reformation
has persecuted dissentients from its creed, and who is it that at this hour
thinks and speaks of them with unchristian antipathy? The English
priesthood. Not to mention that it was the state religion of Judea that
put our Saviour himself to death. — It was and it is the state religion in
some European countries that now persecutes dissenters from its creed.
It was the state religion in this country that persecuted the Protestants ;
and since Protestantism has been established, it is the state religion
which has persecuted Protestant dissenters. v Is this the fault principally
of the faith of these churches or of their alliance with the state ? No man
can be in doubt for an answer.
We are accustomed to attribute too much to bigotry. Bigotry has
been very great and very operative ; but bigotry alone would not have
produced the disgraceful and dreadful transactions which fill the records
of ecclesiastical history. No. Men have often been actuated by the
love of supremacy or of money, while they were talking loudly of the
sacredness of their faith. They have been less afraid for religion than
for the dominance of a church. When the creed of that church was im
pugned, those who shared in its advantages were zealous to suppress the
rising inquiry ; because the discredit of the creed might endanger the
loss of the advantages. The zeal of a pope for the real presence was
often quite a fiction. He and his cardinals cared perhaps nothing for
the real presence, as they sometimes cared nothing for morality. But
men might be immoral without encroaching upon the papal power : —
they could not deny the doctrine without endangering its overthrow.
Happily, persecution for religion is greatly diminished: yet, while we
rejoice in the fact, we cannot conceal from ourselves the consideration,
that the diminution of persecution has resulted rather from the general
diffusion of better principles than from the operation of religious estab
lishments as such.
In most or in all ages a great portion of the flagitious transactions
which furnish materials for the ecclesiastical historian have resulted
from the political connexions or interests of a church. It was not the
interests of Christianity, but of an establishment which made Becket
embroil his king and other sovereigns in distractions. It was not the inter
ests of Christianity but of an establishment which occasioned the mon
strous impositions and usurpations of the papal see. And I do not know
whether there has ever been a religious war of which religion was tho
only or the principal cause. Besides all this there has been an inextri
cable succession of intrigues and cabals, — of conflicting interests, — and
clamour and distraction, which the world would have been spared if
secular interests had not been brought into connexion with religion.
* Miscellaneous Tracts, by Richard Watson, D. D. Bishop of Landaff, v. ii.
350 LEGAL PROVISION. [Essxr III.
Another mode in which religious establishments are injurious to the
civil welfare of a people, is by their tendency to resist political improve
ments. That same cause which induces state religions to maintain
themselves as they are, induces them to maintain the patron state as it
is. It is the state in its present condition that secures to the church its
advantages ; and the church does not know whether, if it were to encour
age political reformation, the new state of things might not endanger its
own supremacy. There are indeed so many other interests and powers
concerned in political reformations that the state religion cannot always
prevent alterations from being effected. Nor would I affirm that they
always endeavour to prevent it. And yet we may appeal to the general
experience of all ages, whether established churches have not resisted
reformation in those political institutions upon which their own privileges
depended. Now these are serious things. For after all that can be said
and justly said of the mischiefs of political changes and the extrav
agances of political epiricism, it is sufficiently certain that almost every
government that has been established in the world has needed from time
to time important reformations in its constitution or its practice. And
it is equally certain, that if there be any influence or power which habit
ually and with little discrimination supports political institutions as they
are, that influence or power must be very pernicious to the world.
We have seen that one of the requisites of a religious establishment is a
" legal provision" for its ministers, — that is to say, the members of all
the churches which exist in a state must be obliged to pay to the support
of one, whether they approve of that one or not.
Now in endeavouring to estimate the effects of this system, with a view
to ascertain the preponderance of public advantages, we are presented
at the outset with the inquiry, — Is this compulsory maintenance rig/it ?
Is it compatible with Christianity ? If it is not, there is an end of the
controversy; for it is nothing to Christians' whether a system be politic
or impolitic, if once they have discovered that it is wrong. But I waive
for the present the question of rectitude. The reader is at liberty to
assume that Christianity allows governments to make this compulsory
provision if they think fit. I waive too the question whether a Christian
minister ought to receive payment for his labours, whether that payment
be voluntary or not.
The single point before us is then the balance of advantages. Is it
more advantageous that ministers should be paid by a legal provision or
by voluntary subscription ?
That advantage of a legal provision which consists in the supply
of a teacher to every district has already been noticed ; so that our
inquiry is reduced to a narrow limit. Supposing that a minister would
be appointed in every district although the state did not pay him, is
it more desirable that he should be paid by the state or voluntarily by the
people ?
Of the legal provision some of the advantages are these r it holds ou:
no inducement to the irreligious or indifferent to absent themselves from
public worship lest they should be expected to pay the preacher. Public
'worship is conducted, — the preacher delivers his discourse, whether such
persons go or not. They pay no more for going, and no less for staying
away ; and it is probable, in the present religious state of mankind, that
some go to places for worship since it costs them nothing, who other
wise would stay away. But it is manifestly better that men should attend
CHIP. 14.] VOLUNTARY SUPPORT. 351
even in such a state of indifference than that they should not attend at
all. Upon the voluntary system of payment this good effect is not so
fully secured ; for though the doors of chapels be open to all, yet few
persons of competent means would attend them constantly without feel
ing that they might be expected to contribute to the expenses. I do not
believe that the non-attendance of indifferent persons would be greatly
increased by the adoption of the voluntary system, especially if the pay
ments were as moderate as they easily might be ; — but it is a question
rather of speculation than of experience, and the reader is to give upon
this account to the system of legal provision such an amount of advan
tage as he shali think fit.
Again, — Preaching where there is a legal provision is not "a mode
of begging." If you adopt voluntary payment, that payment depends upon
the good pleasure of the hearers, and there is manifestly a temptation
upon the preacher to accommodate his discourses, or the manner of them,
to the wishes of his hearers rather than to the dictates of his own judg
ment ; but the man who receives his stipend, whether his hearers be
pleased or not, is under no such temptation. He is at liberty to conform
the exercise of his functions to his judgment, without the diminution of
a subscription. This I think is an undeniable advantage.
Another consideration is this : — That where there is a religious estab
lishment with a legal provision it is usual, not to say indispensable, to
fill the pulpits only with persons who entertain a certain set of religious
opinions. It be would be obviously idle to assume that these opinions
are true, but they are, or are in a considerable degree, uniform. Assu
ming then that one set of opinions is as sound as another, is it better
that a district should always hear one set, or that the teachers of twenty
different sets should successively gain possession of the pulpit, as the
choice of the people might direct ? I presume not to determine such a
question ; but it may be observed that in point of fact those churches
which do proceed upon the voluntary system, are not often subjected to
such fluctuations of doctrine. There does not appear much difficulty in
constituting churches upon the voluntary plan which shall in practice
secure considerable uniformity in the sentiments of the teachers. And
as to the bitter animosities and distractions which have been predicted
if a choice of new teachers was to be left to the people, — they do not I
believe ordinarily follow. Not that I apprehend the ministers, for instance,
of an Independent church are always elected with that unanimity and
freedom from heart-burnings which ought to subsist, but that animosities
do not subsist to any great extent. Besides, the prediction appears to be
founded on the supposition, that a certain stipend was to be appropriated
to one teacher or to another according as he might obtain the greater
number of votes, — whereas every man is at liberty, if he pleases, to with
draw his contribution from him whom he disapproves and to give it to
another. And after all, there may be voluntary support of ministers
without an election by those who contribute, as is instanced by the
Methodists in the present day.
On the other hand, there are some advantages attendant on the volun
tary system which that of a legal provision does not possess.
And first, it appears to be of importance that there should be a union,
a harmony, a cordiality between the minister and the people. It is in
truth an indispensable requisite. Christianity, which is a religion of love,
cannot nourish where unkindly feelings prevail. Now I think it is mani.
352 DISADVANTAGES OF LEGAL PROVISION. [ESSAY III.
fest that harmony and cordiality are likely to prevail more where the
minister is chosen and voluntarily remunerated by his hearers, than where
they are not consulted in the choice : where they are obliged to take
him whom others please to appoint, and where they are compelled
to pay him whether they like him or not. The tendency of this last
system is evidently opposed to perfect kindliness and cordiality. There
is likely to be a sort of natural connexion, a communication of good
offices induced between hearers and the man whom they themselves
choose and voluntarily remunerate, which is less likely in the other
case. If love be of so much consequence generally to the Christian
character, it is especially of consequence that it should subsist between
him who assumes to be a dispenser and them who are in the relation of
hearers of the gospel of Christ.
Indeed the very circumstance that a man is compelled to pay a preacher,
tends to the introduction of unkind and unfriendly feelings. It is not to
be expected that men will pay him more graciously or with a better will
than they pay a tax-gatherer ; and we all know that the tax-gatherer is one
of the last persons whom men wish to see. He who desires to extend
the influence of Christianity would be very cautious of establishing a
system of which so ungracious a regulation formed a part. There is
truth worthy of grave attention in the ludicrous verse of Cowper's, —
A rarer man than you,
In pulpit none shall hear ;
But yet methinks to tell you true,
You sell it plaguy dear.
It is easy to perceive that the influence of that man's exhortations must be
diminished, whose hearers listen with the reflection that his advice is
•* plaguy dear." The reflection too is perfectly natural, and cannot be
helped.' And when superadded to this is the consideration that it is not
only sold " dear," but that payment is enforced, — material injury must be
Sustained by the cause of religion. In this view it may be remarked,
that the support of an establishment by a general tax would be prefera
ble to the payment of each pastor by his own hearers. Nor is it unwor
thy of notice that some persons will always think (whether with reason
or without it) that compulsory maintenance is not right; and in whatever
degree they do this, there is an increased cause of dissatisfaction or
estrangement.
Again. — The teacher who is independent of the congregation, who will
enjoy all his emoluments whether they are satisfied with him or not, — is
under manifest temptation to remissness in his duty, — not perhaps to
remissness in those particulars on which his superiors would animadvert,
but in those which respect the unstipulated and undefinable but very
• important duties of private care and of private labours. To mention
this is sufficient. No man who reflects upon the human constitution, or
who looks around him, will need arguments to prove that they are likely
to labour negligently whose profits are not increased by assiduity and
zeal. I know that the power of religion can, arid that it often does,
counteract this ; but that is no argument for putting temptation in the
way. So powerful indeed is this temptation that with a very great num
ber it is acknowledged to prevail. Even if we do not assert, with a
clergyman, that a great proportion of his brethren labour only so much
for the religious benefit of their parishioners as will screen them from
CHIP. U.I CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. 353
the arm of the law, there is other evidence which is unhappily conclu
sive. The desperate extent to which the non-residence is practised is
infallible proof that a large proportion of the clergy are remiss in the
discharge of the duties of a Christian pastor. They do not discharge
them con amore. And how should they ? It was not the wish to do this
which prompted them to become clergymen at first. They were influ
enced by another object, and that they have obtained ; — they possess an
income : and it is not to be expected that when this is obtained the mental
desires should suddenly become elevated and purified, and that they who
entered the church for the sake of its emoluments should commonly
labour in it for the sake of religion.
Although to many the motive for entering the church is the same as
that for engaging in other professions, it is an unhappiness peculiar to
the clerical profession that it does not offer the same stimulus to subse
quent exertion, — that advancement does not usually depend upon desert.
The man who seeks for an income from surgery or the bar is continually
prompted to pay exemplary attention to its duties. Unless the surgeon
is skilful and attentive, he knows that practice is not to be expected :
unless the pleader devotes himself to statutes and reports, he knows thai
he is not to expect cases and briefs. But the clergyman, whether he
studies the Bible or not, whether he be diligent and zealous or not, still
possesses his living. Nor would it be rational to expect, that where the
ordinary stimulus to human exertion is wanting, the exertion itself should
generally be found. So naturally does exertion follow from stimulus, that
we believe it is an observation frequently made, that curates are more
exemplary than beneficed clergymen. And if beneficed clergymen were
more solicitous than they are to make the diligence of their curates the
principal consideration in employing them, this difference between curates
and their employers would be much greater than it is. Let beneticed
clergymen employ and reward curates upon as simple principles as those
are on which a merchant employs and rewards a clerk, and it is probable
that nine-tenths of the parishes in England would wish for a curate rather
than a rector.
But this very consideration affords a powerful argument against the
present system. If much good would result from making clerical reward
the price of desert, much evil results from making it independent of
desert. This effect of the English establishment is not, like some others,
inseparable from the institution. It would doubtless be possible even
with compulsory maintenance so to appropriate it that it should form
a constant motive to assiduity and exertion. Clergymen might be ele
vated in their profession according to their fidelity to their office : and
if this were done, if as opportunity offered all were likely to be promoted
who deserved it ; and if all who did not deserve it were sure to be passed
by, a new face would soon be put upon the affairs of the church. The
complaints of neglect of duty would quickly be diminished, and non-resi
dence would soon cease to be the reproach of three thousand out of ten.
We cannot however amuse ourselves with the hope that this will be
done ; because in reference to the civil constitution of the church, there
is too near an approach to that condition in which the whole head is
sick and the whole heart faint.
If then it be asserted that it is one great advantage of the establish
ment that it provides a teacher for every parish, it is one great dia-
Z
354 RECAPITULATION. [ESSAY IH.
advantage that it makes a large proportion of those teachers negligent
of their duty.
There may perhaps be a religious establishment in which the ministers
shall be selected for their deserts, though I know not whether in any it is
actually and sufficiently done. That it is one of the first requisites in
the appointment of religious teachers is plain ; and this point is mani
festly better consulted by a system in which the people voluntarily pay
and choose their pastors than when they do not. Men love goodness in
others though they may be bad themselves ; and they especially like it
in their religious teachers ; so that when they come to select a person
to fill that office, they are likely to select one of whom they think at least
that he is a good man.
The same observation holds of non-residence. Non-residence is not
necessary to a state religion. By the system of voluntary payment it is
impossible.
It has sometimes been said (with whatever truth) that in times of public
discontent these persons have been disposed to disaffection. If this be
true, compulsory support is in this respect a political evil, inasmuch as
it is the cause of the alienation of a part of the community. We will
not suppose so strong a case as that this alienation might lead to physical
opposition ; but, supposing the dissatisfaction only to eocist affords no
inconsiderable topic of the statesman^ inquiry. Happiness is the object
of civil government, and this object is frustrated in part in respect of
those who think themselves aggrieved by its policy. And when it is
considered how numerous the dissenters are, and that they increase in
number, the political impropriety and impolicy of keeping them in a
state of dissatisfaction becomes increased.
The best security of a government is in the satisfaction and affection
of the people ; which satisfaction is always diminished, and which affec
tion is always endangered, in respect of those who, disapproving a certain
church, are compelled to pay to its support. This is a consequence of a
" legal provision" that demands much attention from the legislator. Every
legislator knows that it is an evil. It is a point that no man disputes, and
that every man knows should be prevented, unless its cause effects a
counterbalance of advantages.
Lastly. Upon the question of the comparative advantages of a legal
provision and a voluntary remuneration in securing the due discharge of
the ministerial function, what is the evidence of facts ? Are the ministers
of established or of unestablished churches the more zealous, the more
exemplary, the more laborious, the more devoted ? Whether of the two
are the more beloved by their hearers ? Whether of the two lead the
more exemplary and religious lives ? Whether of the two are the more
active in works of philanthropy ? It is a question of fact, and facts are
before the world.
The discussions of the present chapter conduct the mind of the wntei
to these short conclusions : —
That of the two grounds upon which the propriety of religious estab
lishments is capable of examination, neither affords evidence in their
favour: that religious establishments derive no countenance from the
nature of Christianity or from the example of the primitive churches :
and, that they are not recommended by practical utility
CHAP. 15.] ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 355
CHAPTER XV.
THE RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENT OF ENGLAND AND IRELAND.
IF the conclusions of the last chapter be just, it will now become our
business to inquire how far the disadvantages which are incidental to
religious establishments actually operate in our own, and whether there
subsist any additional disadvantages resulting from the peculiar constitu
tion or circumstances of the English church.
We have no concern with religious opinions or forms of church-govern
ment, but with the church as connected with the state. It is not with an
Episcopalian church but with an established church that we are con
cerned. If there must exist a religious establishment, let it by all means
remain in its present hands. The experience which England has had
of the elevation of another sect to the supremacy is not such as to make
us wish to see another elevated again.* Nor would any sect which
takes a just view of its own religious interests desire the supremacy for
itself.
The origin of the English establishment is papal. The political alli
ance of the church is similar now to what it was in the first years of
Henry VIII. When Henry countenanced the preachers of the reformed
opinions, when he presented some of them with the benefices which had
hitherto been possessed by the Romish clergy, and when at length these
benefices and the other privileges of the state religion were bestowed
upon the "reformed" only, no essential change was effected in the
political constitution of the church. In one point, indeed, the alliance
with the state was made more strict, because the supremacy was trans
ferred from the pope to the monarch. So that the same or a kindred
political character was put in connexion with other men and new opinions.
The church was altered, but the establishment remained nearly the same :
or the difference that did obtain made the establishment more of a state
religion than before. The origin therefore of the English establishment
is papal. It was planted by papal policy and nurtured by pervading
superstition : and as to the transfer of the supremacy, but little credit is
due to its origin or its motives. No reverence is due to our establish
ment on account of its parentage. The church is the offspring of the
Reformation, — the church establishment is not. It is not a daughter of
* The religious sect who are now commonly called Puritans, " prohibited the use of the
Common Prayer, not merely in churches, chapels, and places of public-worship, but in any
private place or family as well, under a penalty of five pounds for live first offence, ten pounds
lor the second, and for the third a year's imprisonment."(o) These men did not understand
or did not practise the fundamental duties of toleration. For religious liberty they had still
less regard. " They passed an ordinance by which eight heresies were made punishable with
death upon the first offence, unless the offender abjured his errors, and irremissibly if he
relapsed. Sixteen other opinions were to be punished with imprisonment till the offender
should find sureties that he would maintain them no more."(&) And they quite abolished the
episcopal rank and order. As if each church might not decide for itself by what form its
discipline should be conducted ! To have separated the civil privileges from the episcopal
order was within the province of the legislature, — and to have abolished those privilege*
would, we think, have been wise.
(a) Soothey's Book of the Church. W »
Z2
356 ALLIANCE OF THE [EssiT in.
Protestantism but of the papacy, brought into unnatural alliance with a
better faith. Unhappily, but little anxiety was shown by some of the
reformers to purify the political character of the church when its privi
leges came into their own hands. They declaimed against the corrup
tions of the former church, but were more than sufficiently willing to
retain its profits and its power.
The alliance with the state of which we have spoken, as the insepara
ble attendant of religious establishments, is in this country peculiarly
close. " Church and state" is a phrase that is continually employed,
and indicates the intimacy of the connexion between them. The question
then arises whether those disadvantages which result generally from the
alliance result in this country, and whether the peculiar intimacy is
attended with peculiar evils.
Bishops are virtually appointed by the prince ; and it is manifest that
in the present principles of political affairs, regard will be had, in their
selection, to the interests of the state. The question will not always
be, when a bishopric becomes vacant, Who is the fittest man to take
the oversight of the church ? but sometimes, What appointment will most
effectually strengthen the administration of the day ? Bishops are tem
poral peers, and as such they have an efficient ability to promote the
views of the government by their votes in parliament. Bishops in their
turn are patrons ; and it becomes also manifest that these appointments
will sometimes be regulated by kindred views. He who was selected by
the cabinet because he would promote their measures, and who cannot
hope for advancement if he opposes those measures, is not likely to
select clergymen who oppose them. Many ecclesiastical appointments,
again, are in the hands of the individual officers of government, — of the
prime-minister for example, or the lord-chancellor. That these officers
will frequently regard political purposes, or purposes foreign to the worth
of men in making these appointments, is plain. Now when we reflect
that the highest dignities of the church are in the patronage of the king,
and that the influence of their dignitaries upon the inferior clergy is
necessarily great, it becomes obvious that there will be diffused through
the general whole of the hierarchy a systematic alliance with the ruling
power. Nor is it assuming any thing unreasonable to add, that while
the ordinary principles that actuate mankind operate, the hierarchy will
sometimes postpone the interests of religion to their own.
Upon the practical authority of cabinets over the church, Bishop
Warburton makes himself somewhat mirthful : — " The rabbins make the
giant Gog or Magog contemporary with Noah, and convinced by his
preaching. So that he was disposed to take the benefit of the ark. But
here lay the distress — it by no means suited his dimensions. There
fore, as he could not enter in, he contented himself to ride upon it astride.
Image now to yourself this illustrious cavalier mounted on his hackney,
and see if he does not bring before you the church, bestrid by some
lumpish minister of state, who turns and winds it at his pleasure. The
only difference is, that Gog believed the preacher of righteousness and
religion."*
* Bishop Warburton's Letters to Bishop Kurd, Letter zlvii.
CHAP. 15.] CHURCH WITH THE STATE. 357
If then, to convert a religious establishment into " a means of strength
ening or diffusing influence serves only to debase it, and to introduce into
it numerous corruptions and abuses," these debasements, corruptions,
and abuses must necessarily subsist in the establishment of England.
And first as to the church itself. It is not too much to believe that
the honourable earnestness of many of the reformers to purify religion
from the corruptions of the papacy was cooled, and eventually almost
destroyed by the acquisition of temporal immunities. When they had
acquired them the unhappy reasoning began to operate, — Let us let well
alone: if we encourage fart /ter changes our advantages will perhaps pass into
other hands. We arc safe as we are ; and we will not endanger the loss of
prevent benefits by further reformation. What has been the result? That
the church has never been fully reformed to the present hour. If any
reader is disposed to deny this, I place the proposition, not upon my feeble
authority, but upon that of the members of the church and of the reformers
themselves. The reader will be pleased to notice that there are few quota
tions in the present chapter except from members of the Church of England.
" If any person will seriously consider the low and superstitious state
of the minds of men in general in the time of James I., much more in
the reigns of his predecessors, he will not be surprised to find that there
are various matters in our ecclesiastical constitution which require some
alteration. Our forefathers did great things, and we cannot be suffi*
ciently thankful for their labours, but much more remains to be done."*
Hartley says of the ecclesiastical powers of the Christian world — " They
have all left the true, pure, simple religion, and teach for doctrines the
commandments of men. They are all merchants of the earth, and have
set up a kingdom of this world, abounding in riches, temporal power, and
external pomp."t Dr. Henry More (he was zealous for the honour
of the church) says of the reformed churches, they have " separated from
the great Babylon to build those that are lesser and more tolerable, but
yet not to be tolerated for ever."|
44 It pleased God in his unsearchable wisdom to suffer the progress of
this great work, the Reformation, to be stopped in the midway, and the
effects of it to be greatly weakened by many unhappy divisions among
the reformed."§
44 The innovations introduced into our religious establishment at the
Reformation were great and glorious for those times : but some further
innovations are yet wanting (would to God they may be quietly made !)
to bring it to perfection. "il
" I have always had a true zeal for the Church of England, yet, I
must say, there arc many things in it that have been very uneasy to me."U
11 Cranmer, Bucer, Jewel, and others never considered the Reformation
which took place in their own times as complete."*
Long after Cranmer's days, some of the brightest ornaments of the
church still thought a reformation was needed. Tillotson, Patrick,
Tennison, Kidder, Stillingfleet, Burnet, and othersft endeavoured a
further reformation, though in vain.
* Simpson's Plea, p. 137. t Essay on Man, 1749, v. ii. p. 370.
J Myst. of Iniquity, p. 553. This poor man found that his language laboured under the
imputation of being unclerical, unguarded, and impolitic ; and he afterward showed solici
tude to retract it. See p. 476, &c^. oi the same work.
6 Dr. Lowth, afterward Bishop of London : Visitation Sermon. 1758.
II Dr. Watson, Bishop of Landaff: Misc. Tracts, v. ii. p. 17, &c.
T Bishop Burnet : Hist. Own Times, v. ii. p. 634. ** Simpson's Plea. ft /*.
358 "THE PRIESTHOOD IS AVERSE [ESSAY III.
" We have been contented to suffer our religious constitution, our
doctrines, and ceremonies, and forms of public worship to remain nearly
in the same unpurged, adulterated, and superstitious state in which the
original reformers left them."*
I attribute this want of reformation primarily to the political alliance
of the church. Why should those who have the power refuse to effect
it unless they feared some ill result ? And what ill result could arise
from religious reformation, if it were not the endangering of temporal
advantages ?
"I would only ask," said Lord Bacon, two hundred years ago, "why
the civil state should be purged and restored by good and wholesome
laws, made every third or fourth year in parliament assembled, devising
remedies as fast as time breedeth mischief: and contrariwise, the eccle
siastical state should still continue upon the dregs of time, and receive
no alteration now for these five-and-forty years and more. If St. John
were to indite an epistle to the Church of England, as he did to them of
Asia, it would sure have the clause habco adversus te pauca"^ What
would Lord Bacon have said if he had lived to our day, when two hun
dred years more have passed, and the establishment still continues
" upon the dregs of time !" But Lord Bacon's question should be
answered ; and though no reason can be given for refusing to reform, a
cause can be assigned.
" Whatever truth there may be in the proposition which asserts that
the multitude is fond of innovation, I think that the proposition which
asserts that the priesthood is averse from reformation, is far more generally
true"\ This is the cause. They who have the power of reforming are
afraid to touch the fabric. They are afraid to remove one stone, how
ever decayed, lest another and another should be loosened, until the
fabric, as a political institution, should fall. Let us hear again episcopal
evidence. Bishop Porteus informs us that himself with some other
clergymen (among whom were Dr. Percy and Dr. Yorke, both subse
quently bishops), attempted to induce the bishops to alter some things
"which all reasonable persons agreed stood in need of amendment."
The answer given by Archbishop Cornwallis was exactly to the pur
pose : — " I have consulted, severally, my brethren the bishops ; and it is
the opinion of the bench in general that nothing can in prudence be done
in the matter."§ Here is no attempt to deny the existence of the evils,
— no attempt to show that they ought not to be amended, but only that it
would not " be prudent" to amend them. What were these considera
tions of prudence ? Did they respect religion ? Is it imprudent to purify
religious offices 1 Or did they respect the temporal privileges of the
church ? No man surely can doubt, that if the church had been a
religious institution only, its heads would have thought it both prudent and
right to amend it.
The matters to which Bishop Porteus called the attention of the bench
were the. " liturgy, but especially the articles." These articles afford an
extraordinary illustration of that tendency to resist improvement of which
we speak.
"The requiring subscription to the thirty-nine articles is a great impo-
8ition."|| " Do the articles of the Church of England want a revisal ?
* Simpson's Plea. t Works : Edit. 1803, v. h. p. 527.
t Bishop Watson : Misc. Tracts, v. ii. § Works of Bishop Porteus, vol. i,
j| Bishop Burnet : Hist- Own Times v ii P 634
CHAP. 15.] FROM REFORMATION." 359
• — Undoubtedly."* — In 1772 a clerical petition was presented to the
House of Commons for relief upon the suhject of subscription : and
what were the sentiments of the House respecting the articles? One
member said, " I am persuaded they are not warranted by Scripture,
and I am sure they cannot be reconciled to common sense."f Another,
— " They are contradictory, absurd, several of them damnable, not only
in a religious and speculative light, but also in a moral and practical
view."! Another, — " The articles, I am sure, want a revisal ; because
several of them are heterodox and absurd, warranted neither by reason
nor by Scripture. Many of them seem calculated for keeping out of
the church all but those who will subscribe any thing, and sacrifice every
consideration to the mammon of unrighteousness. "§ And a fourth said,
" Some of them are in rny opinion unfounded in, some of them incon
sistent with, reason and Scripture ; and some of them subversive of the
very genius and design of the gospel. "|| The articles found, it appears,
in the House of Commons one, and only one defender ; and that one was
Sir Roger Newdigate, the member for Oxford.lf — And thus a "church
of Christ" retains in its bosom that which is confessedly irrational, in
consistent with Scripture, contradictory, absurd, subversive of the very
genius and design of the gospel: — for what? Because the church is
allied to the state : — because it is a religious establishment.
There is such an interest, an importance, an awfulness in these things,
resulting both from their effects and the responsibility which they entail,
that I would accumulate upon the general necessity for reformation some
additional testimonies.
In 1746 was presented to the convocation, "Free and Candid Dis
quisitions by dutiful Sons of the Church," in which they say, "Our duty
seems as clear as our obligations to it are cogent ; and is, in one word,
to reform."" Of this book Archdeacon Blackburn tells us that it was
treated with much " contempt and scorn by those who ought to have paid
the greatest regard to the subject of it ;" and that " it caused the forms
of the church to be weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, where they
have been found greatly wanting."**
" Our confirmations, and I may add even our ordinations for the sacred
ministry, are dwindled into painful and disgusting ceremonies, as they
are usually administered."!!
Another archdeacon, who was not only a friend of the church but a
public advocate of religious establishments, says. " Reflection, we hope,
in some, and time we are sure in all, will reconcile men to alterations
established in reason. If there be any danger, it is from some of the
clergy „ who would rather suffer the vineyard to be overgrown with weeds
than stir the ground; or what is worse, call these weeds the fairest
flowers in the garden." This is strong language : that which succeeds
is stronger still. " If we are to wait for improvement till the cool, the
calm, the discreet part of mankind begin it ; till church governors solicit,
or ministers of state propose it, I will venture to pronounce that (without
His interposition, with whom nothing is impossible) we may remain as we
* Bishop Watson : Miscel. Tracts, v. ii. p. 17. t Lord George Germain.
t Sir William Meredith. $ Lord John Cavendish. || Sir George Saville.
If Par. Hist. v. xvii. The petition, after all this, was rejected hy two hundred and seven
teen votes against seventy-one. Can any thing more clearly indicate the fear of reforming?
—a fear that extends itself to the state, because the state thinks (with reason or without it)
that to endanger the stability of the church were to endanger its own.
** The Confessional. 1 t Simpson's Plea
360 PALEY— BEXLEY— SOUTHEY— KNOX. [ESSAY III.
are till the renovation of all things."* Why •' church governors" and
'* ministers of state" should be so peculiarly backward to improve, is
easily known. Ministers of state are more anxious for the consolida
tion of their power than for the amendment of churches ; and church
governors are more anxious to benefit themselves by consolidating that
power, than to reform the system of which they are the heads. But let
no man anticipate that we shall indeed remain as we are till the renova
tion of all things. The work will be done, though these may refuse to
do it. " If," says a statesman, "the friends of the church, instead of
taking the lead in a mild reform of abuses, contend obstinately for their
protection, and treat every man as an enemy who aims at reform, they
will certainly be overpowered at last, and the correction applied by those who
will apply it with no sparing hand"] If these declarations be true (and
who will even question their truth ?) we may be allowed, without any
pretensions to extraordinary sagacity to add another : that to these un
sparing correctors the work will assuredly be assigned. How infatu
ated then the policy of refusing reformation even if policy only were
concerned !
The next point in which the effect of the state alliance is injurious to
the church itself, is by its effects upon the ministry.
It is manifest that where there are such powerful motives of interest to
assume the ministerial office, and where there are such facilities for the
admission of unfit men, — unfit men will often be admitted. Human na
ture is very stationary ; and kindred results arose very many centuries
ago. " The attainments of the clergy in the first ages of the Anglo-
Saxon church were very considerable. But a great and total degeneracy
took place during the latter years of the Heptarchy, and for two genera
tions after the union of its kingdoms." And why ? Because " mere
worldly views operated upon a great proportion of them ; no other way
of life offered so fair a prospect of power to the ambitious, of security
to the prudent, of tranquillity and ease to the easy-minded.":}: — Such
views still operate, and they still produce kindred effects.
It is manifest, that if men undertake the office of Christian teachers
not from earnestness in the cause but from the desire of profit, or power,
or ease, the office will frequently be ill discharged. Persons who pos
sess little of the Christian minister but the name will undertake to guide
the flock ; and hence it is inevitable that the ministry, as a body, will
become reduced in the scale of religious excellence. So habitual is the
system of undertaking the office for the sake of its emoluments, that men
have begun to avow the motive and to defend it. " It is no reproach to
the church to say, that it is supplied with ministers by the emoluments it
affords. "$ Would it not have been a reproach to the first Christian
churches, or could it have been said of them at all? Does he who enters
the church for the sake of its advantages enter it " of a ready mind ?"
— But the more lucrative offices of the church are talked of with much
familiarity as " prizes," much in the same manner as we talk of prizes
* A Defence of the Considerations on the Propriety of requiring a Subscription to Articles
of Faith. By Dr. Paley : p. 35.
t Letters on the subject of the British and Foreign Bible Society, by the present Lord
Bexley.
% Southey : Book of the Church, c. 6. $ Knox's Essays, No. la
CHAP. 15.] PALEY— WARBURTON-HARTLEY. 361
in a lottery. ** The same fund produces more effect when distributed
into prizes of different value than when divided into equal shares."* This
c* effect" is described as being '* both an allurement to men of talents to
enter into the church, and as a stimulus to the industry of those who are
already in it." But every man knows that talent and industry are not
the only nor the chief things which obtain for a person the prizes of the
church. There is more of accuracy in the parallel passage of another
moralist. " The medical profession does not possess so many splendid
prizes as the church and the bar, and on that account, perhaps, is rarely
if ever pursued by young men of noble families. "f Here is the point :
it is rather to noble families than to talent and industry that the prizes
are awarded. " There are indeed rich preferments, but these, it is ob
served, do not usually fall to merit as the reward of it, but are lavished
where interest and family connexions put in their irresistible claim. "J
That plain-speaking man Bishop Warburton writes to his friend Hurd,
<; Reckon upon it, that Durham goes to some noble ecclesiastic. 'Tis a
morsel only for them."§ It is manifest that when this language can be
appropriate, the office of the ministry must be dishonoured and abused.
Respecting the priesthood, it is acknowledged that " the characters of
men are formed much more by the temptations than the duties of their
profession. "|J Since then the temptations are worldly, what is to be ex
pected but that the character should be worldly too ? — Nor would any thing
be gained by the dexterous distinction that I have somewhere met with,
that although the motive for " taking the oversight of the flock" be indeed
"lucre," yet it does not come under the apostolical definition of "filthy."
Of the eventual consequences of thus introducing unqualified and per
haps irreligious nobles into the government of the church, Bishop War-
burton speaks in strong language. " Our grandees have at last found their
way back into the church. I only wonder they have been so long about
it. But be assured, that nothing but a new religious revolution, to sweep
away the fragments that Harry the VIII. left, alter banqueting his cour
tiers, will drive them out again. "F When that revolution shall come
which will sweep away these prizes, it will prove not only to these but
to other things to be a besom of destruction.
If the fountain be bitter, the current cannot be sweet. The principles
which too commonly operate upon the dignitaries of the church descend
in some degree to the inferior ranks. I say in some degree ; for I do
not believe that the degree is the same or so great. Nor is it to be ex
pected. The temptation which forms the character is diminished in its
power, and the character therefore may rise.
I believe that (reverently be it spoken), through the goodness of God,
there has been produced since the age of Hartley a considerable im
provement in the general character (at least of the inferior orders) of the
English clergy. In observing the character which he exhibited, let it
be remembered that that character was the legitimate offspring of the
state religion. The subsequent amendment is the offspring of another
and a very different and a purer parentage. " The superior clergy are
in general ambitious and eager in the pursuit of riches ; flatterers of the
great, and subservient to party interest; negligent of their own imme
diate charges, and also of the inferior clergy and their immediate charges.
* Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 10. t Gisborne's Duties of Men.
t Knox's Essays, No. 53. $ Warburton's Letters to Hurd, No. 47.
U Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 266. % Warburton's Letters to Hurd, No. 47.
462 PURCHASE OF ADVOWSONS LEs«AY III.
The inferior clergy imitate their superiors, and in general take little more
care of their parishes than barely what is necessary to avoid the cen
sures of the law. — I say this is the general case ; that is, far the greater
part of the clergy of all ranks in this kingdom are of this kind."* These
miserable effects upon the character of the clergy are the effects of a
religious establishment. If any man is unwilling to admit the truth, let
him adduce the instance of an unestablished church, in the past eighteen
hundred years, in which such a state of things has existed. Of the times
of Gregory Nazianzen, Bishop Burnet says, — " The best men of that
age, instead of pressing into orders or aspiring to them, fled from them,
excused themselves, and judging themselves unworthy of so holy a char
acter and so high a trust, were not without difficulty prevailed upon to
submit to that which, in degenerate ages, men run to as a subsistence or
ihe means of procuring it."f
It might almost be imagined that the right of private patronage was
allowed for the express purpose of deteriorating the character of minis
ters of religion, because it can hardly be supposed that any church
would allow such a system without a perfect consciousness of its effects.
To allow any man or woman, good or bad, who has money to spend, to
purchase the power of assigning a Christian minister to a Christian flock,
is one of those desperate follies and enormities which should never be
spoken of but in the language of detestation and horror. J A man buys an
advowson as he buys an estate, and for the same motives. He cares per
haps nothing for the religious consequences of his purchase, or for the
religious assiduity of the person to whom he presents it. Nay, the case is
worse than that of buying as you buy an estate ; for land will not repay the
occupier unless he cultivates it, — but the living is just as profitable whether
he exerts himself zealously or not. He who is unfit for the estate by want
of industry or of talent, is nevertheless fit for the living ! These are
dreadful and detestable abuses. Christianity is not to be brought into
juxtaposition with such things. It were almost a shame to allow a com
parison. " Who is not aware that in consequence of the prevalence of
such a system, the holy things of God are often miserably profaned ?"§
— " It is our firm persuasion, that the present system of bestowing church
patronage is hastening the decay of morals, the progress of insubordi
nation, and the downfall of the establishment itself." Morality and sub
ordination have happily other supports : — the fate of the establishment
is sealed. I say sealed. It cannot perpetually stand without thorough
reformation ; and it cannot be reformed while it remains an establishment.
Another mode in which the state of religion of England is injurious
to the character of its ministers, is by its allowance and practical en
couragement of non-residence and pluralities. These are the natural
effects of the principles of the system. It is very possible that there
should be a state of religion without them, but if the alliance with the
state is close, — if a principal motive in the dispensation of benefices is the
* Hartley : Observations on Man
f Disc, of the Pastoral Care, 12th ed. p. 77. " Under Lanfranc's primacy no promotion in
the church was to be obtained by purchase, neither was any unfit person raised to the epis
copal rank." (a)
| Upon such persons " rest the awful responsibility (I might almost call it the divine pre-
rogative) of assigning a flock to the shepherd, and of selecting a shepherd for the flock."—
Gurney's Peculiarities, 3d. ed. p. 164.
§ Christian Observer, v. xx. p. 11.
(a) SoutUey : Book of the Church, chap. 7
CHAP. 15.] NON-RESIDENCE— PLURALITIES. 363
promotion of political purposes, — if the prizes of the church are given
where interest and family connexions put in their claim, — it becomes
extremely natural that several preferments should be bestowed upon one
person. And when once this is countenanced, or done by the state itself,
inferior patrons will as naturally follow the example. The prelate who
receives from the state three or four preferments naturally gives to his
son or his nephew three or four if he can.
Pluralities and non-residence, whatever may be said in their favour
by politicians or divines, will always shock the common sense and the
virtue of mankind. Unhappily, they are evils which seem to have in
creased. " Theodore, the seventh archbishop of Canterbury, restricted
the bishops and secular clergy to their own diocesses ;" and no longer
ago than the reign of James I., " when pluralities were allowed, which
was to be as seldom as possible, the livings were to be near each other."*
But now we hear of one dignitary who possesses ten different prefer
ments, and of another who, with an annual ecclesiastical revenue of
fifteen thousand pounds, did not see his diocess for many years together.!
And as to that proximity of livings which was directed in James's time,
they are now held in plurality not only at a distance from each other, but
so as that the duties cannot be performed by one person.
Of the moral character of this deplorable custom it is not necessary
that we should speak. "I do not enter," says an eminent prelate, "into
the scandalous practices of non-residence and pluralities. This is so
shameful a profanation of holy things that it ought to be treated with
detestation and horror."| Another friend of the church says, "He who
grasps at the revenue of a benefice, and studies to evade the personal
discharge of the various functions which that revenue is intended to re
ward, and the performance of those momentous duties to God and man
which, by accepting the living, he has undertaken, evinces either a most
reprehensible neglect of proper consideration, or a callous depravity of
heart. "$ It may be believed that all are not thus depraved who accept
pluralities without residence. Custom, although it does not alter the
nature of actions, affects the character of the agent ; and although I hold
no man innocent in the sight of God who supports, in his example, this
vicious practice, yet some may do it now with a less measure of guilt
than that which would have attached to him who first, for the sake of
money, introduced the scandal into the church.
The public has now the means of knowing, by the returns to parlia
ment, the extent in which these scandalous customs exist — an extent
which, when it was first communicated to the Earl of Harrowby,
" struck me," says he, " with surprise, I could almost say with horror."
Alas, when temporal peers are horror-struck by the scandals that are
tolerated and practised by their spiritual teachers !
By one of these returns it appears that the whole number of placesjj
is ten thousand two hundred and sixty-one. Of the possessors of these
livings, more than one half were non-resident. The number of residents
* Southey : Book of the Church, c. 6.
t For these examples see Simpson's Plea. I say nothing of present examples.
j Burnet : Hist. Own Times, v. ii. p. 646. $ Gisborne : Duties of Men.
|| The diocess of St. David's is not included, and the return includes some dignities,
sinecures, and dilapidated churches. It cites that of 1810. I do not know but that the
details are substantially the same at the present time.
Here it may be observed how imperfect is the argument (see Paley) that a religious estab
lishment does good by keeping an enlightened man in each parish. — Mem. in the MS
364 DISCIPLINE OF THE CHURCH. [ESSAY III.
was only four thousand four hundred and twenty-one. — But the reader
will perhaps say, What matters the residence of him who receives the
money, so that a curate resides ? Unfortunately, the proportion of absentee
curates is still greater than that of incumbents. Out of three thousand
six hundred and ninety-four who are employed, only one thousand five
hundred and eighty-seven live in the parishes they serve ; so'that two
thousand one hundred and seven parishes are left without even the resi
dence of a curate. Besides this, there are nine hundred and seventy
incumbents who neither live in their parishes themselves nor employ
any curate at all ! What is the result ? That above one-half of those
who receive the stipends of the church live away from their flocks ;
and that there are in this country three thousand and seventy-seven flocks
among whom no shepherd is to be found ! — When it is considered that
all this is a gratuitous addition to the necessary evils of state religions,
that there may be established churches without it, it speaks aloud of
those mischiefs of our establishment which are peculiarly its own'.
One other consideration upon this subject remains. An internal dis
cipline in a church, both over its ministers and members, appears essen
tial to the proper exercise of Christian duty. From what cause does it
happen that there is little exercise of discipline, or none, in the church
of England ? The reader will perhaps answer the question to himself :
" The exercise of efficient discipline in the church is impossible ;" and
he would answer truly. It is impossible. Who shall exercise it ? The
first lord of the treasury ? He will not, and he cannot. The bench
of bishops ? Alas ! there is the origin of a great portion of the delin
quency. If they were to establish a discipline, the first persons upon
whom they must exercise it would be themselves. Who ever heard of
persons so situated instituting or re-establishing a discipline in the
church? Who then shall exercise it? The subordinate clergy? If
they have the will, they have not the power ; and if they had the power,
who can hope they would use it ? Who can hope that while above half
of these clergy are non-residents they will erect a discipline by which
residence shall be enforced ? — I say, discipline, efficient discipline is
impossible ; and I submit it to the reader whether any establishment in
which Christian discipline is impossible is not essentially bad.
From the contemplation of these effects of the English establishment
upon its formularies, its ministers, and its discipline, we must turn to its
effects generally upon the religious welfare of the people. This wel
fare is so involved with the general character of the establishment and
its ministers, that to exhibit an evil in one is to illustrate an injury to
the other. If the operation of the state of religion prevents ministers
from inculcating some portions of divine truth, its operation must indeed
be bad. And how stands the fact ? " Aspiring clergymen, wishing to
avoid every doctrine which would retard their advancement, were very
little inclined to preach the reality or necessity of divine influence."*
The evil which this indicates is twofold : first, the vicious state of the
heads of the church ; for why else should " advancement" be refused to
those who preached the doctrine of the gospel ; and next, the injury to
* Vicessimus Knox : Christian Philosophy, 3d ed. p. 24.
CHAP. 15.] MORAL PREACHING— LAVINGTON. 3tf5
religion ; for religion must needs be injured if a portion of its truths arc
concealed. Another quotation gives a similar account : " Regular di
vines, of great virtue, learning, and apparent piety, feared to preach the
Holy Ghost and his operations, the main doctrines of the gospel, lest
they should countenance the Puritan, the Quaker, or the Methodist, and
lose the esteem of their own order or the higher powers."* Did Paul
or Barnabas ever ** fear to preach the main doctrines of the gospel" from
considerations like these, or from any considerations whatever ? Did
our Lord approve or tolerate such fear when he threatened with punish
ment any man who should take away 1'rom the words of his book ? But
why again should the clerical order or the higher powers disesteem the
man who preached the main doctrines of the gospel, unless it were from
motives of interest founded in the establishment ?
And thus it is, that they who are assumed to be the religious leaders
of the people, who ought, so far as is in their power, to guide the people
into all truth, conceal a portion of that truth from motives of interest !
If this concealment is practised by men of great virtue, learning, and
apparent piety, what are we to expect in the indifferent or the bad ! We
are to expect that not one but many doctrines of the gospel will be con
cealed. We are to expect that discourses not very different from those
which Socrates might have delivered will be dispensed, instead of the
whole counsel of God. What has been the fact ? Of " moral preach
ing," Bishop Lavington says, " We have long been attempting the reform
ation of the nation by discourses of this kind. With what success ?
None at all. On the contrary, we have dexterously preached the people into
downright infidelity." Will any man affirm that this has not been the
consequence of the state religion? Will any man, knowing this, affirm
that a state religion is right or useful to Christianity ?
But as to the tendency of the system to diffuse infidelity, we are not
possessed of the testimony of Bishop Lavington alone. " It is evident
that the worldly-mindedness and neglect of duty in the clergy is a great
scandal to religion, and cause of infidelity.''! Again : " Who is to blame
for the spread of infidelity ? The bishops and clergy of the land more
than any other people in it. We, as a body of men, are almost solely
and exclusively culpable.":): Ostervald, in his " Treatise concerning the
Causes of the present corruption of Christians," makes the same remark
of the clergy of other churches ; — " The cause of the corruption of
Christians is chiefly to be found in the clergy." Now, supposing this
to be the language of exaggeration, — supposing that they corrupt Chris
tians only as much as men who make no peculiar pretensions to religion,
— how can such a fact be accounted for, but by the conclusion that there
is something corrupting in the clerical system ?
The refusal to amend the constitution or formularies of the church is
another powerful cause of injury to religion. Of one particular article,
the Athanasian creed, a friend of the church, and one who mixed with
the world, says, " I really believe that creed has made more Deists than
all the writings of all the oppugners of Christianity since it was first
unfortunately adopted in our liturgy."^ Would this Deist-making docu
ment have been retained till now if the church were not allied to the
•
* Vicessimus Knox : Christian Philosophy, 3d edition, p. 23.
t Hartley : Observations on Man. t Simpson's Plea, 3d edit p. 76.
$ Observations on the Liturgy, by an undei -secretary of State.
366 WATSON— WILBERFORCE— WARBURTON. [ESSAY III.
state ? — Bishop Watson uses language so unsparing, that, just and true
as it is, I know not whether I would cite it from any other pen than a
bishop's : — '* A motley monster of bigotry and superstition, a scarecrow
of shreds and patches, dressed up of old by philosophers and popes, to
amuse the speculative and to affright the ignorant;" — do I quote this
because it is the unsparing language of truth ? No, but because of that
which succeeds it, — " now," says the bishop, " a butt of scorn, against
which every unfledged witling of the age essays his wanton efforts, and,
before he has learned his catechism, is fixed an irifidel for life! This, I
am persuaded, is too frequently the case, for I have had too frequent op
portunities to observe it."* If by the church as it subsists many are
fixed infidels for life, how diffusively must be spread that minor but yet
practical disrespect for religion which, though it amounts not to infidelity,
makes religion an unoperative thing, — unoperative upon the conduct and
the heart, — unoperative in animating the love and hope of the Christian,
— unoperative in supporting under affliction, and in smoothing and bright
ening the pathway to the grave !
To these minor consequences also we have unambiguous testimony. —
" Where there is not this open and shameless disavowal of religion, few
traces of it are to be found. Improving in every other branch of know
ledge, we have become less and less acquainted with Christianity."! —
" Two-thirds of the lower order of people in London," says Sir Thomas
Bernard, " live as utterly ignorant of the doctrines and duties of Chris
tianity, and are as errant and unconverted pagans, as if they had existed
in the wildest part of Africa." — " The case," continues the Quarterly
Review, " is the same in Manchester, Leeds, Bristol, Sheffield, and in all
our large towns ; the greatest part of the manufacturing populace, of the
miners, and colliers are in the same condition ; and if they are not
universally so, it is more owing to the zeal of the Methodists than to any
other cause."j How is it accounted for that in a country in which a
teacher is appointed to diffuse Christianity in every parish, a considerable
part of the population are confessed to be absolute pagans? How,
especially, is it accounted for that the few who are reclaimed from
paganism are reclaimed, not by the established, but by an unestablished
church ? It is not difficult to account for all this, if the condition of the
established church is such as to make what follows the flippant language
of a clergyman who afterward was a bishop: "The person I engaged
in the summer," as a curate, " is run away ; as you will think natural
enough, when I tell you he was let out of jail to be promoted to this
service. "§
The ill effect of non-residence upon the general interests of religion is
necessarily great. A conscientious clergyman finds that the offices of
his pulpit are not the half of his business : he finds that he can often do
more in promoting the religious welfare of his parishioners out of his
pulpit than in it. It is out of his pulpit that he evinces and exercises
the most unequivocal affection for his charge ; that he encourages or
warns as individuals have need; that he animates by the presence of his
constant example ; that he consoles them in their troubles ; that he adjusts
their disagreements ; that he assists them by his advice. It is by living
•
* Misc. Tracts by Watson, Bishop of Landaff, v. ii. p. 49.
t Wilherforce : Practical View, 6th edit. p. 389.
t Quarterly Review, April, 1816, p. 233.
$ Letters between Bishop Warburton and Bishop Kurd.
UHAP. 15.] RECOIL FROM WORKS OF PHILANTHROPY. 367
among them, and by that alone, that he can be " instant in season and
out of season," or that he can fulfil the duties which his station involves.
How prodigious then must be the sum of mischief which the non-
residence of three thousand clergymen inflicts upon religion! How yet
more prodigious must be the sum of mischief which results from that negli
gence of duty of which non-residence is but one effect ! Yet all this is
occasioned by our religious establishment. " The total absence of non-
residence and pluralities in the church of Scotland, and the annual exami
nation of all the inhabitants of the parish by its minister, are circumstances
highly advantageous to religion.'1''*
The minister in the English church is under peculiar disadvantages in
enforcing the truths or the duties of religion upon irreligious or skeptical
men. Many of the topics which such men urge are directed, not against
Christianity, but against that exhibition of Christianity which is afforded
by the church. It has been seen that this is the cause of infidelity.
How then shall the established clergyman efficiently defend our religion?
He may indeed confine himself to the vindication of .Christianity without
reference to a church : but then he does not defend that exhibition of
Christianity which his own church affords. The skeptic presses him
with those things which it is confessed are wrong. He must either
defend them, or give them up as indefensible. If he defends them, he
confirms the skeptic in his unbelief: if he gives them up, he declares,
not only that the church is in the wrong, but that himself is in the wrong
too : and, in either case, his fitness for an advocate of our religion is
impaired.
Hitherto, I have enforced the observations of this chapter by the
authority of others. Now I have to appeal for confirmation to the
experience of the reader himself. That peculiar mode of injury to the
cause of virtue of which I speak has received its most extensive illus
trations during the present century ; and it has hitherto perhaps been the
subject rather of private remark than of public disquisition. I refer to a
sort of instinctive recoil from new measures that are designed to promote
the intellectual, the moral, or the religious improvement of the public
I appeal to the experience of those philanthropic men who spend their
time either in their own neighbourhoods, or in " going about doing good,"
whether they do not meet with a greater degree of this recoil from works
of philanthropy among the teachers and members of the state religion
than among other men, — and whether this recoil is not the strongest
among that portion who are reputed to be the most zealous friends of the
church. Has not this been your experience with respect to the slave-
trade and to slavery, — with respect to the education of the people, — with
respect to scientific or literary institutions for the labouring ranks, —with
respect to sending preachers to pagan countries, — with respect to the
Bible Society? Is it not familiar to you to be in doubt and apprehension
respecting the assistance of these members of the establishment, when
you have no fear and no doubt of the assistance of other Christians? Do
you not call upon others and invite their co-operation with confidence ?
Do you not call upon these with distrust, and is not that distrust the
result of your previous experience 1
Take, for example, that very simple institution, the Bible Society, —
simple, because its only object is to distribute the authorized records of
* Gisborne : Duties of Men.
368 UNION OF CHURCH AND STATE. [E*uy III.
the dispensations of God. It is an institution upon which it may be
almost said that but one opinion is entertained, — that of its great utility ;
but one desire is felt, — that of co-operation, except by the members of
established churches. From this institution the most zealous advocates
of the English church stand aloof. While Christians of other names are
friendly almost to a man, the proportion is very large of those churchmen
who show no friendliness. It were to no purpose to say that they have
claims peculiarly upon themselves, for so have other Christians, — claims
which generally are complied with to a greater extent. Besides, it is
obvious that these claims are not the grounds of the conduct that we
deplore. If they were, we should still possess the cordial approbation
of these persons, — their personal, if not their pecuniary, support. From
such persons silence and absence are positive discouragement. How
then are we to account for the phenomenon? By the operation of a state
religion. For when our philanthropist applies to the members of another
church, their only question perhaps is, Will the projected institution be
useful to mankind ? But when he applies to such a member of the state
religion, he considers, — How will it aflect the establishment ? Will it
increase the influence of dissenters ? May it not endanger the immuni
ties of the church? Is it countenanced by our superiors ? Is it agreeable
to the administration ? And when all these considerations have been
pursued, he very commonly finds something that persuades him that it is
most " prudent" not to encourage the proposition. It should be remarked,
too, as an additional indication of the cause of this recoil from works of
goodness, that where the genius of the state religion is most influential,
there is commonly the greatest backwardness in works of mental and
religious philanthropy. The places of peculiar frigidity are the places
in which there are the greatest number of the dignitaries of the church.
Thus it is that the melioration of mankind is continually and greatly
impeded, by the workings of an institution of which the express design
is to extend the influence of religion and morality. Greatly impeded :
for England is one of the principal sources of the current of human im
provement, and in England the influence of this institution is great.
These are fruits which are not borne by good and healthy trees. How
can the tree be good of which these are the fruits ? Are these fruits the
result of episcopacy ? No, hut of episcopacy wedded to the state. Were
this union dissolved (and the parties are not of that number whom God
hath joined), not only would human reformation go forward with an
accelerated pace, but episcopalianism itself would in some degree arise
and shake herself, as from the dust of the earth. She would find that
her political alliance has bound around her glittering but yet enslaving
chains, — chains which, hugged and cherished as they are, have ever
fixed her, and ever will fix her, to the earth, and make her earthly.
The mode in which the legal provision for the ministry is made in
this country contains, like many other parts of the institution, evils
superadded to those which are necessarily incidental to a state religion.
If there be any one thing which, more than another, ought to prevail be
tween a Christian minister and those whom he teaches, it is harmony
and kindliness of feeling : and this kindliness and harmony is peculiarly
diminished by the system of tithes. " There is no circumstance which so
often disturbs the harmony that should ever subsist between a clergyman
and his parishioners as contentions respecting tithes."* Vicessimus
* Gisborne : Duties of Men.
CHAP. 15.] REVIEW OF PROPOSITIONS. 369
Knox goes further : " One great cause of the clergy's losing their influ
ence is, that the laity in this age of skepticism grudge them their tithes.
The decay of religion and the contempt of the clergy arise in a great
measure from this source."* What advantages can compensate for the
contempt of Christian ministers and the decay of religion ? Or who
does not perceive that a legal provision might be made which would be
productive, so far as the new system of itself was concerned, of fewer
evils ? — Of the political ill consequences of the tithe system I say no
thing here. If they were much less than they are, or if they did not
exist at all, there is sufficient evidence against the system in its moral
effects.
It is well known, and the fact is very creditable, that the clergy exact
tithes with much less rigour, and consequently occasion far fewer heart
burnings, than lay claimants. The want of cordiality often results too
from the cupidity of the payers, who invent vexatious excuses to avoid
payment of the whole claim, and are on the alert to take disreputable
advantages.
But to the conclusions of the Christian moralist it matters little by
what agency a bad system operates. The principal point of his atten
tion is the system itself. If it be bad, it will be sure to find agents by
whom its pernicious principles will be elicited and brought into practical
operation. It is therefore no extenuation of the system that the clergy
frequently do not disagree with their parishioners : while it is a part of
the system that tithes are sold, and sold to him, of whatever character,
who will give most for them — he will endeavour to make the most of
them again. So that the evils which result from the tithe system, al
though they are not chargeable upon religious establishments, are charge
able upon our own, and are an evidence against it. The animosities which
tithe-farmers occasion are attributable to the tithe system. Ordinary
men do not make nice discriminations. He who is angry with the tithe-
farmer is angry with the rector who puts the power of vexation into his
hands, and he who is out of temper with the teacher of religion loses
some of his complacency in religion itself. You cannot then prevent
the loss of harmony between the shepherd and his flock, the loss of his
influence over their affections, the contempt of the clergy, and the decay
of religion, from tithes. You must amend the civil institution, or you
cannot prevent the religious mischief.
Reviewing then the propositions and arguments which have been deliv
ered in the present chapter — propositions which rest upon the authority
of the parties concerned, what is the general conclusion ? If religious
establishments are constitutionally injurious to Christianity, is not our
establishment productive of superadded and accumulated injury ?— Let
not the writer of these pages be charged with enmity to religion because
he thus speaks. Ah ! they are the best friends of the church who en
deavour its amendment. I may be one of those who, in the language of
Lord Bexley, shall be regarded as an enemy, because, in the exhibition
of its evils, I have used great plainness of speech. But I cannot help
it. I have other motives than those which are affected by these censures
* Essays, No. 10.
16 Aa
370 "THE CHURCH IS IN DANGER." [E.sAy III.
of men ; and shall be content to bear my portion, if I can promote that
purification of a Christian church of which none but the prejudiced or
the interested deny the need. — They who endeavour to conceal the need
may be the advocates, but they are not the friends, of the church. The
wound of the daughter of my people may not be slightly healed. It is
vain to cry Peace, peace, when there is no peace. What then will the
reader who has noticed the testimonies which have been offered in this
chapter think of the propriety of such statements as these 1 The " es
tablishment is the firmest support and noblest ornament of Christianity."*
It " presents the best security under heaven for the preservation of the
true apostolical faith in this country."! " Manifold as are the blessings
for which Englishmen are beholden to the institutions of their country,
there is no part of those institutions from which they derive more im
portant advantages than from its church establishment."! — Especially,
what will the reader think of the language of Hannah More ? — Hannah
More says of the established church, " Here Christianity presents her
self neither dishonoured, degraded, nor disfigured ;" Bishop Watson says
of its creed, that it is " a motley monster of bigotry and superstition."
Hannah More says, " Here Christianity is set before us in all her origi
nal purity ;" Archdeacon Blackburn says that " the forms of the church,
having been weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, are found greatly
wanting." Hannah More says, " She has been completely rescued from
that encumbering load under which she had so long groaned, and deliv
ered from her heavy bondage by the labours of our blessed reformers ;"§
Dr. Lowth says that the reformation from popery " stopped in the midway."
Hannah More says, We here see Christianity " in her whole consistent
character, in all her fair and just proportions, as she came from the hands
of her Divine author ;" Dr. Watson calls her creed "a scarecrow, dressed
up of old by philosophers and popes." To say that the language of
this good woman is imprudent and improper is to say very little. Yet I
would say more. Her own language is her severest censurer. When
will it be sufficiently remembered that the evils of a system can neither
be veiled nor defended by praise ? When will it be remembered, that if
we " contend for abuses," the hour will arrive when " correction will be
applied with no sparing hand ?"
It has frequently been said that " the church is in danger." What is
meant by the church ? Or what is it that is endangered ? Is it mont
that the episcopal form of church government is endangered — that some
religious revolution is likely to take place, by which a Christian commu
nity shall be precluded from adopting that internal constitution which it
thinks best ? This surely cannot be feared. The day is gone by, in
England at least, when the abolition of prelacy could become a measure
of state. One community has its conference, and another its annual
assembly, and another its independency, without any molestation. Who
then would molest the English church because it prefers the government
of bishops and deacons to any other ? Is it meant that the doctrines of
* Dr. Howley, Bishop of London: Charge, 1814, p. 25.
t On the Nature of Schism, by C. Daubeny, Archdeacon of Sarum, p. 153.
t First words of Southey's Book of the Church. $ Moral Sketches, 3d edit. p. 90.
OHAP. 15.] "THE CHURCH IS IN DANGER." 371
the church are endangered, or that its liturgy will be prohibited ? Surely
no. While every other church is allowed to preach what doctrines it
pleases, and to use what formularies it pleases, the liberty will not surely
be denied to the episcopal church. If the doctrines and government of
that church be Christian and true, there is no reason to fear for their
stability. Its members have superabundant ability to defend the truth.
What then is it that is endangered ? Of what are those who complain
of danger afraid ? Is it meant that its civil immunities are endangered —
that its revenues are endangered ? Is it meant that its members will
hereafter have to support their ministers without assistance from other
churches ? Is it feared that there will cease to be such things as rich
deaneries and bishoprics ? Is it feared that the members of other
churches will become eligible to the legislature, and that the heads of
this church will not be temporal peers? In brief, is it feared that this
church will become merely one among the many, with no privileges
but such as are common to good citizens and good Christians ? — These
surely are the things of which they are afraid. It is not for religious
truth, but for civil immunities : it is not for forms of church government,
but for political pre-eminence : it is not for the church, but for the church
establishment. Let a man, then, when he joins in the exclamation, The
church is in danger, present to his mind distinct ideas of his meaning,
and of the object of his fears. If his alarm and his sorrow are occa
sioned, not for religion, but for politics — not for the purity and usefulness
of the church, but for its immunities — not for the offices of its ministers,
but -for their splendours — let him be at peace. There is nothing in all
this for which the Christian needs to be in sorrow or in fear.
And why ? Because all that constitutes a church as a Christian com
munity, may remain when these things are swept away. There may be
prelates without nobility ; there may be deans and archdeacons without
benefices and patronage ; there may be pastors without a legal provision ;
there may be a liturgy without a test.
In the sense in which it is manifest that the phrase, "the church is in
danger," is ordinarily to be understood, that is — " the establishment is
in danger" — the fears are undoubtedly well founded : the danger is real
and imminent. It may not be immediate perhaps ; perhaps it may not
be near at hand ; but it is real, imminent, inevitable. The establishment
is indeed in danger ; and I believe that no advocacy however zealous,
that no support however determined, that no power however great, will
preserve it from destruction. If the declarations which have been cited
in this chapter be true — if the reasonings which have been offered in
this and in the last be just, who is the man that, as a Christian, regrets
its danger, or would delay its fall ? He may wish to delay it as a politi
cian ; he may regret it as an expectant of temporal advantages, but as a
Christian he will rejoice.
Supposing the doctrines and government of the church to be sound, it
is probable that its stability would be increased by what is called its
destruction. It would then only be detached from that alliance with the
state which encumbers it, and weighs it down, and despoils its beauty,
and obscures its brightness. Contention for this alliance will eventually
be found to illustrate the proposition, that a man's greatest enemies are
those of his own household. He is the practical enemy of the church
who endeavours the continuance of its connexion with the state : except
indeed that the more zealous the endeavour the more quickly, it is prob-
Aa2
372 CONCLUSION, [ESSAY III.
able, the connexion will be dissolved ; and therefore, though such persons
" mean not so, neither do their hearts think so," yet they may thus be
the agents in the hand of God of hastening the day in which she shall be
purified from every evil thing ; in which she shall arise and shine, because
her light is come, and because the glory of the Lord is risen upon her.
Let him, then, who can discriminate between the church and its alli
ances consider these things. Let him purify and exalt his attachment.
If his love to the church be the love of a Christian, let him avert his eye
from every thing that is political ; let his hopes and fears be excited only
by religion : and let his exertions be directed to that which alone ought
to concern a Christian church, its purity and its usefulness
In concluding a discussion in which it has been needful to utter, with
plainness, unwelcome truths, and to adduce testimonies which some
readers may wish to be concealed, I am solicitous to add the conviction,
with respect to the ministers of the English church, that there is happily
a diminished, ground of complaint and reprehension — the conviction that
while the liturgy is unamended and unrevised, the number of ministers
is increased to whom temporal things are secondary motives, and who
endeavour to be faithful ministers of one common Lord : the conviction
too, with respect to other members of the church, that they are collect
ively advancing in the Christian path, and that there is an " evident ex
tension of religion within her borders." Many of these, both of the
teachers and of the taught, are persons with whom the writer of these
pages makes no pretensions of Christian equality — yet even to these he
would offer one monitory suggestion : — They are critically situated with
reference to the political alliance of the church. Let them beware that
they mingle not with their good works and faith unfeigned, any confed
eracy with that alliance which will assuredly be laid in the dust. That
confederacy has ever had one invariable effect — to diminish the Christian
brightness of those who are its partisans. It will have the same effect
upon them. If they are desirous of superadding to their Christianity
the privileges and emoluments of a state religion — if they endeavour to
retain in the church the interest of both worlds — if, together with their
desire to serve God with a pure heart, they still cling to the advantages
which this unholy alliance brings, — and, contending for the faith contend
also for the establishment — the effect will be bad as the endeavour
will be vain : bad, for it will obstruct their own progress and the pro
gress of others in the Christian path ; and vain, for the fate of that estab
lishment is sealed.
In making these joyful acknowledgments of the increase of Christianity
within the borders of the church, one truth however must be added ; and
it is a solemn truth — The increase is not attributable to the state reli
gion, but has taken place notwithstanding it is a state religion. I appeal
to the experience of good men : has the amendment been the effect of
the establishment as such ? Has the political connexion of the church
occasioned the amendment, or promoted it ? Nay — Has the amendment
been encouraged by those on whom the political connexion had the
greatest influence ? No : the reader, if he be an observer of religious
affairs, knows that the state alliance is so far from having effected a reform
ation, that it does not even regard the instruments of that reformation
with complacency.
CHAP. 16.J LEGAL PROVISION FOR CHRISTIAN TEACHERS. 373
CHAPTER XVI.
OF LEGAL PROVISION FOR CHRISTIAN TEACHERS.
OF VOLUNTARY PAYMENT AND OF UNPAID MINISTRY.
IF some of the observations of the present chapter are not accurately
classed with political subjects, I have to offer the apology that the inti
macy of their connexion with the preceding discussion appears to afford
a better reason for placing them here than an adherence to system affords
for placing them elsewhere. " The substance of method is often sacri
ficed to the exterior show of it."*
LEGAL PROVISION
By one of those instances which happily are not unfrequent in the
progress of human opinion from error to truth, the notion of a divine right
on the part of any Christian teachers to a stated portion of the products
of other men's labours is now nearly given up.f There was a time when
the advocate of the claim would have disdained to refer for its founda
tion to questions of expediency or the law of the land. And he probably
as little thought that the divine right would ever have been given up by
its advocates, as his successors now think that they have fallacious
grounds in reasoning upon public utility. Thus it is that the labours of
our predecessors in the cause of Christian purity have taken a large por
tion of labour out of our hands. They carried the outworks of the cita
del ; and while its defenders have retired to some inner strong-hold, it
becomes the business of our day to essay the firmness of its walls. The
writer of these pages may essay them in vain ; but he doubts not that
before some power their defenders, as they have hitherto retired, will
continue to retire, until the whole fortress is abandoned. Abandoned to
the enemy? On no — He is the friend of a Christian community, who
induces Christian principles into its practice.
In considering the evidence which Christianity affords respecting
lawfulness of making a legal provision for one Christian church, I would
not refer to those passages of Scripture which appear to bear upon tt
that it is upon this exploded notion of the divine right that
W ck ffirt Mfower. asserted « that he. were t
held by the people upon a delinquency in the pastor, and transferre to anot
-Brodie's History of the British Emoire. Introduction. Mem. in tht MS.
374 COMPULSORY PAYMENT. [ESSAY III.
question whether Christian ministrations should be absolutely free : partly,
because I can add nothing to the often-urged tendency of those passages,
and partly because they do not all concern the question of legal pro
vision. The man who thinks Christianity requires that those who labour in
the gospel should live of the gospel, does not therefore think that a legal
provision should be made for the ministers of one exclusive church.
One thing seems perfectly clear — that to receive from their hearers
and from those who heard them not a compulsory payment for their
preaching, is totally alien to all the practices of the apostles and to the
whole tenor of the principles by which they were actuated. Their one
single and simple motive in preaching Christianity was to obey God, to
do good to man ; nor do I believe that any man imagines it possible that
they would have accepted of a compulsory remuneration from their own
hearers, and especially from those who heard them not. We are there
fore entitled to repeat the observation, that this consideration affords
evidence against the moral lawfulness of instituting such compulsory
payment. Why would not, and could not, the apostles have accepted
such payment, except for the reason that it ought not to be enforced ? No
account, so far as I perceive, can be given of the matter, but that the
system is contrary to the purity of Christian practice.
An English prelate writes thus : " It is a question which might admit
of serious discussion, whether the majority of the members of any civil
community have a right to compel all the members of it to pay towards
the maintenance of a set of teachers appointed by the majority to preach
a particular system of doctrines."* No discussion could be entertained
respecting this right, except on the ground of its Christian unlawfulness.
A legislature has a right to impose a general tax to support a govern
ment, whether a minority approves the tax or not ; and the bishop here
rightly assumes that there is an antecedent question, — whether it is mor
ally lawful to oblige men to pay teachers whom they disapprove ? It is
from the want of taking this question into the account that inquirers have
involved themselves in fallacious reasonings. It is not a question of the
right of taxation, but of the right of the magistrate to oblige men to vio
late their consciences. Of those who have regarded it simply as a ques
tion of taxation, and who therefore have proceeded upon fallacious grounds,
the author of " The Duties of Men in Society" is one. He says, "• If a
state thinks that national piety and virtue will be best promoted by con
signing the whole sum raised by law to teachers of a particular descrip
tion, it has the same right to adopt this measure as it would have to
impose a general tax for the support of a board of physicians, should it
deem that step conducive to national health." Far other — No man's
Christian liberty is invaded, no man's conscience is violated, by paying
a tax to a board of physicians ; but many a man's religious liberty may
be invaded, and many a man's conscience may be violated, by paying
for the promulgation of doctrines which he thinks Christianity condemns.
Whither will the argument lead us ? If a papal state thinks it will pro-
* See Quarterly Review, No. 58 :—
" There was a party in the nation who conceived that every man should not only be
allowed to choose his own religion, but contribute as he himself thought proper towards the
support of the pastor whose duties he exacted. The party however does not appear to have
been great. Yet let us not despise the opinion, but remember that it has been taken up by
Dr. Adam Smith himself as a sound one, and been acted upon successfully in a vast empire,
the United States of America." — Brodie's History of the British Empire, v. iv. p. 365.
Mem in the MS.
CHAP. 16.] OF CHRISTIAN TEACHERS. 375
mote piety to demand contributions for the splendid celebration of an
auto-da-fe, would Protestant citizens act rightly in contributing ? Or
would the state act rightly in demanding the contribution ? Or has a
Bramin state a right to impose a tax upon Christian residents to pay for
the fagots of Hindoo immolations ? The antecedent question in all
these cases is, — Whether the immolation, and the auto-da-fe, and the
system of doctrines, are consistent with Christianity. If they are not,
the citizen ought not to contribute to their practice or diffusion ; and by
consequence, the state ought not to compel him to contribute. Now, for
the purposes of the present argument, the consistency of any set of doc
trines with Christianity cannot be proved. It is to no purpose for the
Unitarian to say, My system is true ; nor for the Calvinist or Arminian'or
Episcopalian to say, My system is true. The Unitarian has no Christian
right to compel me to pay him for preaching Unitarianism, nor has any
religious community a right to compel the members of another to pay
them for promulgating their own opinions.
If by any revolution in the religious affairs of this country, another
sect was elevated to the pre-eminence, and its ministers supported
by a legal provision, I believe that the ministers of the present church
would think it an unreasonable and unchristian act, to compel them
to pay the preachers of the new state religion. Would not a clergy
man think himself aggrieved, if he were obliged to pay a Priestley, and
to aid in disseminating the opinions of Priestley ? — That same grievance
is now inflicted upon other men. The rule is disregarded, to do as we
would be done by.
Let us turn to the example of America. In America the government
does not oblige its citizens to pay for the support of preachers. Those
who join themselves to any particular religious community commonly
contribute towards the support of its teachers, but there is no law of the
state which compels it. This is as it should be. The government
which obliged its citizens to pay, even if it were left to the individual to
say to what class of preachers his money should be given, would act
upon unsound principles. It may be that the citizen does not approve
of paying ministers at all ; or there may be no sect in a country with
which he thinks it right to hold communion. How would the reader him
self be situated in Spain perhaps, or in Turkey, or in Hindostan ? Would
he think it right to be obliged to encourage Juggernaut, or Mahomet, or
the pope?
But, passing from this consideration : it is after all said, that in our
own country the individual citizen does not pay the ministers of the state
religion. I am glad that this seeming paradox is advanced, because it
indicates that those who advance it confess that to make them pay would
be wrong. Why else should they deny it ? It is said, then, that per
sons who pay tithes do not pay the established clergy ; that tithes are
property held as a person holds an estate ; that if tithes were taken off,
rents would advance to the same amount ; that the buyer of an estate
pays so much the less for it because it is subject to tithes, — and there
fore that neither owner nor occupier pays any thing. This is specious,
but only specious. The landholder " pays" the clergyman, just as he
pays the tax-gatherer, "if taxes were taken off, rents would advance just
as much as if tithes were taken off; and a person may as well say that
he does not pay taxes as that he does not pay tithes. — The simple fact
is, that an order of clergy are, in this respect, in the same situation at
376 PAYMENT OF TITHES BY DISSENTERS. [ESSAY III.
the body of stockholders who live upon their dividends. They are sup
ported by the country. The people pay the stockholder in the form of
taxes, and the clergyman in the form of tithes. Suppose every clergy
man in England were to leave the country to-morrow, and to cease to
derive any income from it, it is manifest that the income which they now
derive would be divided among those who remain, — that is, that those
who now pay would cease to pay. Rent, and taxes, and tithes are in
these respects upon one footing. Without now inquiring whether they
are right, they are all payments, — something by which a man does not
receive the whole of the product of his labour.
The argument, therefore, which affirms that dissenters from the state
religion do not pay to that religion, appears to be wholly fallacious ; and
being such, we are at liberty to assume, that to make them pay is inde
fensible and unchristian. For we repeat the observation, that he who is
anxious to prove they do not pay evinces his opinion that to compel
them to pay would be wrong.
There is some injustice in the legal provision for one church. The
Episcopalian, when he has paid his teacher, or rather when he has con
tributed that portion towards the maintenance of his teacher which by
the present system becomes his share, has no more to pay. The adher
ent to other churches has to pay his own preacher and his neighbour's.
This does not appear to be just. The operation of a legal provision is,
in effect, to impose a double tax upon one portion of the community
without any fault on their part. Nor is it to any purpose to say that the
dissenter from the Episcopalian church imposes the tax on himself: so
he does ; but it is just in the same sense as a man imposes a penalty
upon himself when he conforms to some prohibited point of Christian
duty. A papist, two or three centuries ago, might almost as well have
said that a Protestant imposed the stake on himself, because he might
have avoided it if he chose. It is a voluntary tax in no other way than
as all other taxes are voluntary. It is a tax imposed by the state as
truly as the window tax is imposed, because a man may, if he pleases,
live in darkness ; or as a capitation tax is imposed, because a man may,
if he pleases, lose his head.
But what is he who conscientiously disapproves of a state religion to
do ? Is he, notwithstanding his judgment, to aid in supporting that reli
gion, because the law requires it ? No : for then, as it respects him, the
obligation of the law is taken away. He is not to do what he believes
Christianity forbids, because the state commands it. If public practice
be a criterion of the public judgment, it may be concluded that the num
ber of those who do thus believe respecting our state religion is very
small; for very few decline actively to support it. Yet when it is con
sidered how numerous the dissenters from the English establishment
are, and how emphatically some of them disapprove the forms or doc
trines of that establishment, it might be imagined that the number who
decline thus to support it would, in consistency, be great. How are we
to account for the fact as it is ? Are we to suppose that the objections
of these persons to the establishment are such as do not make it a case
of conscience whether they shall support it or not ? Or are we to con
clude that they sacrifice their consciences to the terrors of a distraint ?
If no case of conscience is involved, the dissenter, though he may think
the state religion inexpedient, can hardly think it wrong. And if he do
not think it wrong, why should he be so zealous in opposing it, or why
CRAP. 16.] TITHES A "PROPERTY OF THE CHURCH." 377
should he expect the church to make concessions in his favour ? If, on
the other hand he sacrifices his conscience to his fears, it is obvious that,
before he reprehends the establishment, he should rectify himself. Ho
should leave the mote till he has taken out the beam.
Perhaps there are some who, seriously disapproving of the state reli
gion, suspect that in Christian integrity they ought not to pay to its sup
port, — and yet are not so fully convinced of this, or do not so fully act
upon the conviction, as really to decline to pay. If they are convinced,
let them remember their responsibility, and not know their master's will
in vain. If these are riot faithful, where shall fidelity be found ? How
shall the Christian churches be purified from their defilements, if those
who see and deplore their defilements contribute to their continuance?
Let them show that their principles are worthy a little sacrifice. Fidel
ity on their part, and a Christian submission to the consequences, might
open the eyes and invigorate the religious principle of many more : and
at length the objection to comply with these unchristian demands might
be so widely extended, that the legislature would be induced to with
draw its legal provision ; and thus one main constituent of an ecclesias
tical system which has grievously obstructed, and still grievously ob
structs, the Christian cause, might be taken away.
As an objection to this fidelity of practice, it has been said, that since
a man rents or buys an estate for so much less because it is subject to
tithes, it is an act of dishonesty, afterward, to refuse to pay them. The
answer is this, that no dishonesty can be committed while the law exacts
payment by distraint ; and if the law were altered, there is no place for
dishonesty. Besides, the desire of saving money does not enter into the
refuser's motives. He does not decline to pay from motives of interest,
but from motives of duty.
It is however argued that the legislature has no right to take away
tithes any more than it has a right to deprive citizens of their lands and
houses ; and that a man's property in tithes is upon a footing with his
property in an estate. Now we answer that this is not true in fact ; and
that if it were it would not serve the argument.
It is not true in fact. — If tithes were a property, just as an estate is a
property, why do men complain of the scandal of pluralities ? Who
ever hears of the scandal of possessing three or four estates ? — Why
again does the law punish simoniacal contracts ? Who ever hears of
simoniacal contracts for lands and houses ? The truth is, that tithes
are regarded as religious property. — The property is legally recognised,
not for the sake of the individual who may possess it, but for the sake of
religion. The law cares nothing for the men, except so far as they are
ministers. — Besides, tithes are a portion of the produce only of the land.
The tithe owner cannot walk over an estate and say, of every tenth acre,
this is mine. In truth he has not, except by consent of the landholder,
any property in it at all ; for the landholder may, if he pleases, refuse to
cultivate it, — occasion it to produce nothing ; and then the tithe owner
has no interest or property in it whatever. And in what sense can that
be said to be property, the possession of which is at the absolute dis
cretion of another man ?
But grant, for a moment, that tithes are property. Is it affirmed that
whatever property a man possesses cannot be taken from him by the
legislature ? Suppose I go to Jamaica and purchase a slave, and bring
him to England, has the law no right to take this property away ?
378 COMPENSATION. [ESSAY III.
Assuredly it has the right, and it exercises it too. Now, so far as the argu
ment is concerned, the cases of the slave holder and of the tithe owner
are parallel. Compulsory maintenance of Christian ministers, and com
pulsory retention of men in bondage, are both inconsistent with Chris
tianity ; and as such, the property which consists in slaves, and in tithes,
may rightly be taken away. — Unless indeed any man will affirm that any
property, however acquired, cannot lawfully be taken from the pos
sessor. But when we speak of taking away the property in tithes,
we do not refer to the consideration that it has been under the sanction
of the law itself that that property has been purchased or obtained. The
law has, in reality, been accessory to the offence, and it would not be
decent or right to take away the possession which has resulted from that
offence, without offering an equivalent. I would not advise a legisla
ture to say to those persons who, under its own sanction, have purchased
slaves, to turn upon them and say, I am persuaded that slavery is im
moral, and therefore I command you to set your slaves at liberty ; and
because you have no moral right to hold them, I shall not grant you a
compensation. Nor, for the same reasons, would I advise a legislature
to say so to the possessor of tithes.
But what sort of a compensation is to be offered ? Not surely an
amount equivalent to the principal money, computing tithes as interest.
The compensation is for life interest only. The legislature would have
to buy off, not a freehold, but an annuity. The tithe owner is not like
the slave holder, who can bequeath his property to another. When
the present incumbent dies, the tithes, as property, cease to exist, — until
it is again appropriated to an incumbent by the patron of the living.
This is true, except in the instances of those deplorable practices, the
purchase of advowsons, or of any other by which individuals or bodies
acquire a pecuniary interest in the right of disposal.
The notion that tithes are a " property of the church" is quite a fic
tion. In this sense, what is the church ? If no individual man has his
property taken away by a legislative abolition of tithes, it is unmeaning
to talk of " the church" having lost it.
It is perhaps a vain thing to talk of how the legislature might do a
thing which perhaps it may not resolve, for ages, to do at all. But if it
were to take away the right to tithes as the present incumbents died, or
as the interest of the present owners ceased, there would be no reason
to complain of injustice, whatever there might be of procrastinating the
fulfilment of a Christian duty.
Whether a good man, knowing the inconsistency of forced maintenance
with the Christian law, ought to accept a proffered equivalent for that
maintenance, is another consideration. If it is wrong to retain it, it is
not obvious how it can be right, or how at least it can avoid the appear
ance of evil, to accept money for giving it up. It is upon these princi
ples that the religious community who decline to pay tithes decline also
to receive them. By legacy or otherwise, the legal right is sometimes
possessed by these persons, but their moral discipline requires alike a
refusal to receive or to pay.
CHAP. 16.3 VOLUNTARY PAYMENT OF MINISTERS. 379
VOLUNTARY PAYMENT.*
That this system possesses many advantages over a legal provision we
have already seen. But this does not imply that even voluntary pay
ment is conformable with the dignity of the Christian ministry, with its
usefulness, or with the requisitions of the Christian law.
And here I am disposed, in the outset, to acknowledge that the ques
tion of payment is involved in an antecedent question, — the necessary
qualifications of a Christian minister. If one of these necessary quali
fications be, that he should devote his youth and early manhood to theo
logical studies, or to studies or exercises of any kind, I do not perceive
how the propriety of voluntary payment can be disputed : for, when a
man who might otherwise have fitted himself, in a counting-house or an
office, for procuring his after support, employs his time necessarily in
qualifying himself for a Christian instructer, it is indispensable that he
should be paid for his instructions. Or if, after he has assumed the min
isterial function, it be his indispensable business to devote all or the
greater portion of his time to studies or other preparations for the pulpit,
the same necessity remains. He must be paid for his ministry, because,
in order to be a minister he is prevented from maintaining himself.
But the necessary qualifications of a minister of the gospel cannot
here be discussed. We pass on therefore with the simple expression of
the sentiment, that how beneficial soever a theological education and
theological inquiries may be in the exercise of the office, yet that they
form no necessary qualifications ; that men may be, and that some are,
true and sound ministers of that gospel without them.
Now, in inquiring into the Christian character and tendency of pay
ment for preaching Christianity, one position will perhaps be recognised
as universally true, — that if the same ability and zeal in the exercise of
the ministry could be attained without payment as with it, the payment
might reasonably and rightly be forborne. Nor will it perhaps be disputed,
that if Christian teachers of the present day were possessed of some
good portion of the qualifications, and were actuated by the motives of
the first teachers of our religion, — stated remuneration would not be
needed. If love for mankind, and " the ability which God giveth,"were
strong enough to induce and to enable men to preach the gospel without
payment, the employment of money as a motive would be without use
or propriety. Remuneration is a contrivance adapted to an imperfect
state of the Christian church : nothing but imperfection can make it
needful ; and when that imperfection shall be removed, it will cease to be
needful again.
These considerations would lead us to expect, even antecedently to
inquiry, that some ill effects are attendant upon the system of remunera
tion. Respecting these effects, one of the advocates of a legal provision
holds language which, though it be much too strong, nevertheless contains
much truth. " Upon the voluntary plan," says Dr. Paley, "preaching, in
time, would become a mode of begging. With what sincerity or with
what dignity can a preacher dispense the truths of Christianity, whose
thoughts are perpetually solicited to the reflection how he may increase
* " Thou shalt take no gift : for the gift blindeth the wise, and perverteth the words of the
righteous." — Exodus xxiii. 8. Mem, in, the MS.
380 ILL EFFECTS OF [ESSAY IIL
his subscription ? His eloquence, if he possess any, resembles rather
the exhibition of a player who is computing the profits of his theatre,
than the simplicity of a man who, feeling himself the awful expectations
of religion, is seeking to bring others to such a sense and understanding
of their duty as may save their souls. — He, not only whose success but
whose subsistence depends upon collecting and pleasing a crowd, must
resort to other arts than the acquirement and communication of sober arid
profitable instruction. For a preacher to be thus at the mercy of his
audience, to be obliged to adapt his doctrines to the pleasure of a capri
cious multitude, to be continually affecting a style and manner neither
natural to him nor agreeable to his judgment, to live in constant bondage
to tyrannical and insolent directors, are circumstances so mortifying, not
only to the pride of the human heart, but to the virtuous love of inde
pendency, that they are rarely submitted to without a sacrifice of prin
ciple and a depravation of character : at least it may be pronounced
that a ministry so degraded would soon fall into the lowest hands ; for it
would be found impossible to engage men of worth and ability in so pre
carious and humiliating a profession."*
To much of this it is a sufficient answer that the predictions are contra
dicted by the fact. Of those teachers who are supported by voluntary sub
scriptions, it is not true that their eloquence resembles the exhibition of
a player who is computing the profits of his theatre ; for the fact is that
a very large proportion of them assiduously devote themselves from
better motives to the religious benefit of their flocks : — it is not true that
the office is rarely undertaken without what can be called a depravation
of character ; for the character, both religious and moral, of those teachers
who are voluntarily paid, is at least as exemplary as that of those
who are paid by provision of the state : — it is not true that the office
falls into the lowest hands, and that it is impossible to engage men of
worth and ability in the profession, because very many of such men are
actually engaged in it.
But although the statements of the archdeacon are not wholly true,
they are true in part. Preaching will become a mode of begging. When
a congregation wants a preacher, and we see a man get into the pulpit
expressly and confessedly to show how he can preach, in order that the
hearers may consider how they like him, and when one object to his
thus doing is confessedly to obtain an income, there is reason, — not cer
tainly for speaking of him as a beggar, — but for believing that the dig
nity and freedom of the gospel are sacrificed. — Thoughts perpetually so
licited to the reflection how he may increase his subscription. Supposing
this to be the language of exaggeration, supposing the increase of his
subscription to be his subordinate concern, yet still it is his concern ;
and, being his concern, it is his temptation. It is to be feared, that by
the influence of this temptation his sincerity and his independence may
be impaired, that the consideration of what his hearers wish rather than
of what he thinks they need, may prompt him to sacrifice his conscience
to his profit, and to add or to deduct something from the counsel of God.
Such temptation necessarily exists ; and it were only to exhibit igno
rance of the motives of human conduct to deny that it will sometimes
prevail. — To live in constant bondage to insolent and tyrannical directors.
It is not necessary to suppose that directors will be tyrannical or inso-
«• Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 10.
CHAP. 16.] THE SYSTEM OF REMUNERATION.
381
lent, nor by consequence to suppose that the preacher is in a state of con
stant bondage. But if they be not tyrants and he a slave, they may be
masters and he a servant : a servant in a sense far different from that
in which the Christian minister is required to be a servant of the church,
in a sense which implies an undue subserviency of his ministrations to
the will of men, and which is incompatible with the obligation to have
no master but Christ.
Other modes of voluntary payment may be and perhaps they are adopted,
hut the effect will not be essentially different. Subscriptions may be
collected from a number of congregations and thrown into a common
fund, which fund may be appropriated by a directory or conference : but
the objections still apply ; for he who wishes to obtain an income as a
preacher has then to try to propitiate the directory instead of a congre
gation, and the temptation to sacrifice his independence and his con
science remains.
There is no way of obtaining emancipation from this subjection, no
way of avoiding this temptation, but by a system in which the Christian
ministry is absolutely free.
But the ill effects of thus paying preachers are not confined to those
who preach. The habitual consciousness that the preacher is paid, and
the notion which some men take no pains to separate from this con
sciousness, that he preaches because he is paid, have a powerful tend
ency to diminish the influence of his exhortations and the general effect
of his labours. The vulgarly irreligious think, or pretend to think, that
it is a sufficient excuse for disregarding these labours to say, They are
a matter of course, — preachers must say something, because it is their
trade. And it is more than to be feared that notions, the same in kind
however different in extent, operate upon a large proportion of the com
munity. It is not probable that it should be otherwise ; and thus it is
that a continual deduction is made by the hearer from the preacher's dis
interestedness or sincerity, and a continual deduction therefore from the
effect of his labours.
How seldom can such a pastor say, with full demonstration of sincer
ity, " I seek not yours, but you." The flock may indeed be, and hap
pily it often is, his first and greatest motive to exertion ; but the demon
strative evidence that it is so can only be afforded by those whose min
istrations are absolutely free. The deduction which is thus made from
the practical influence of the labours of stipended preachers is the
same in kind (though differing in amount) as that which is made from a
pleader's addresses in court. He pleads because he is paid for pleading.
Who does not perceive that if an able man came forward and pleaded
in a cause without a retainer, and simply from the desire that justice
should be awarded, he would be listened to with much more of confidence,
and that his arguments would have much more weight, fhan if the same
words were uttered by a barrister who was feed ? A similar deduction
is made from the writings of paid ministers, especially if they advocate
their own particular faith. " He is interested evidence," says the
reader, — he has got a retainer, and of course argues for his client ; and
thus arguments that may be invincible, and facts that may be incontro-
vertibly true, lose some portion of their effect, even upon virtuous men,
and a large portion upon the bad, because the preacher is paid. If, as is
sometimes the case, " the amount of the salary given is regulated very
precisely by the frequency of the ministry required," — so that a hearer
382 QUALIFICATIONS OF A MINISTER. [ESSAY III.
may possibly allow the reflection, The preacher will get half a guinea
for the sermon he is going to preach, — it is almost impossible that the
dignity of the Christian ministry should not be reduced, as well as that
the influence of his exhortations should not be diminished. " It is how
ever more desirable," says Milton, " for example to be, and for the pre
venting of offence or suspicion, as well as more noble and honourable in
itself, and conducive to our more complete glorying in God, to render an
unpaid service to the church, in this as well as in all other instances ;
and after the example of our Lord, to minister and serve gratuitously."*
Some ministers expend all the income which they derive from their
office in acts of beneficence. To these we may safely appeal for con
firmation of these remarks. Do you not find that the consciousness, in
the minds of your hearers, that you gain nothing by your labour, greatly
increases its influence upon them ? Do you not find that they listen to
you with more confidence and regard, and more willingly admit the
truths which you inculcate and conform to the advices which you im
part? If these things be so, — and who will dispute it? — how great
must be the aggregate obstruction which pecuniary remuneration opposes
to the influence of religion in the world !
But indeed it is not practicable to the writer to illustrate the whole of
what he conceives to be the truth upon this subject, without a brief ad
vertence to the qualifications of the minister of the gospel : because, if
his view of these qualifications be just, the stipulation for such and such
exercise of the ministry, and such and such payment, is impossible. If
it is " admitted that the ministry of the gospel is the work of the Lord,
that it can be rightly exercised only in virtue of his appointment," and
only when " a necessity is laid upon the minister to preach the gospel,"
— it is manifest, that he cannot engage beforehand to preach when
others desire it. It is manifest, that " the compact which binds the min
ister to preach on the condition that his hearers shall pay him for his
preaching, assumes the character of absolute inconsistency with the
spirituality of the Christian religion."!
Freely ye have received, freely give. When we contemplate a Chris
tian minister who illustrates both in his commission and in his practice,
this language of his Lord ; who teaches, advises, reproves, with the author
ity and affection of a commissioned teacher ; who fears not to displease
his hearers, and desires not to receive their reward ; who is under no
temptation to withhold, and does not withhold, any portion of that coun
sel which he thinks God designs for his church ; when we contemplate
* Christian Doctrine, p. 484.
f I would venture to suggest to some of those to whom these considerations are offered",
•whether the notion that a preacher is a sine qua non of the exercise of public worship, is
not taken up without sufficient consideration of the principles which it involves. If,
" where two or three are gathered together in the name" of Christ, there he, the minister
of the sanctuary, is " in the midst of them," it surely cannot be necessary to the exercise of
such worship, that another preacher should be there. Surely too, it derogates something
from the excellence, something from the glory of the Christian dispensation, to assume that
if a number of Christians should be so situated as to be without a preacher, there the public
worship of God cannot be performed. This may often happen in remote places, in voyages,
or the like : and I have sometimes been impressed with the importance of these considera
tions when I have heard a person say " is absent, and therefore there will be no divine
service this morning."
CHAP. 17.] PATRIOTISM. 383
such a man, we may feel somewhat of thankfulness and of joy ; of
thankfulness and joy that the Universal Parent thus enables his crea
tures to labour for the good of one another, in that same spirit in which
he cares for them and blesses them himself.
I censure not, either in word or in thought, him who, in sincerity of
mind, accepts remuneration for his labours in the church. It may not be
inconsistent with the dispensations of Providence, that in the present im
perfect condition of the Christian family, imperfect principles respecting
the ministry should be permitted to prevail : nor is it to be questioned
that some of those who do receive remuneration aie fulfilling their proper
allotments in the universal church. But this does not evince that we
should not anticipate the arrival, and promote the extension, of a more
perfect state. It does not evince that a higher allotment may not await
their successors, — that days of greater purity and brightness may not
arrive : of purity, when every motive of the Christian minister shall be
simply Christian ; and of brightness, when the light of truth shall be
displayed with greater effulgence. When the Great Parent of all shall
thus turn his favour towards his people ; when He shall supply them
with teachers exclusively of his own appointment, it will be perceived
that the ordinary present state of the Christian ministry is adapted only
to the twilight of the Christian day; and some of those who now faith
fully labour in this hour of twilight will be among the first to rejoice in
the greater arlory of the noon.
CHAPTER XVII.
PATRIOTISM.
WE are presented with a beautiful subject of contemplation, when we
discover that the principles which Christianity advances upon its own
authority are recommended and enforced by their practical adaptation
to the condition and the wants of man. With such a subject I think we
are presented in the case of patriotism.
" Christianity does not encourage particular patriotism in opposition
to general benignity."* If it did, it would not be adapted for the world.
The duties of the subject of one state would often be in opposition to
those of the subject of another, and men might inflict evil or misery upon
neighbour nations in conforming to the Christian law. Christianity is
designed to benefit, not a community, but the world. The promotion of
the interests of one community by injuring another, — that is, " patriot-
ism in opposition to general benignity,"— it utterly rejects as wrong ;
and in doing this, it does that which in a system of such wisdom and
benevolence we should expect.—" The love of our country," says Adam
Smith, " seems not to be derived from the love of mankind."
I do not mean to say that the word patriotism is to be found in the New
Testament, or that it contains any disquisitions respecting the proper
f TheoPMor.SSent. The limitation with which this opinion should be regarded we shall
presently propose.
384 PATRIOTISM. [ESSAY III.
extent of the love of our country, — but I say that the universality of
benevolence which Christianity inculcates, both in its essential char
acter and in its precepts, is incompatible with that patriotism which
would benefit our own community at the expense of general benevolence.
Patriotism, as it is often advocated, is a low and selfish principle, — a prin
ciple wholly unworthy of that enlightened and expanded philanthropy
which religion proposes.
Nevertheless, Christianity appears not to encourage the doctrine of
being a " citizen of the world," and of paying no more regard to our
own community than to every other. And why ? Because such a doc
trine is not rational ; because it opposes the exercise of natural and
virtuous feelings ; and because if it were attempted to be reduced to
practice, it may be feared that it would destroy confined benignity with
out effecting a counterbalancing amount of universal philanthropy. This
preference of our own nation is indicated in that strong language of
Paul, "I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my
brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh, who are Israelites."* And
a similar sentiment is inculcated by the admonition, — "As we have,
therefore, opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them
who are of the household of faith."f In another place the same senti
ment is applied to more private life ; — " If any provide not for his own,
and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith.";};
All this is perfectly consonant with reason and with nature. Since
the helpless and those who need assistance must obtain it somewhere,
where can they so rationally look for it, where shall they look for it at
all, except from those with whom they are connected in society? If
these do not exercise benignity towards them, who will ? And as to the
dictate of nature, it is a law of nature that a man shall provide for his
own. He is prompted to do this by the impulse of nature. Who in
deed shall support and cherish and protect a child if his parents do not ?
That speculative philosophy is vain which would supplant these dictates
by doctrines of general philanthropy. It cannot be applicable to human
affairs until there is an alteration in the human constitution. Not only
religion therefore, but reason and nature reject that philosophy which
teaches that no man should prefer or aid another because he is his coun
tryman, his neighbour, or his child : — for even this, the philosophy has
taught us ; and we have been seriously told that, in pursuance of gen
eral philanthropy, we ought not to cherish or support our own offspring
in preference to other children. The effect of these doctrines, if they
were reduced to practice, would be, not to diffuse universal benevolence,
but to contract or destroy the charities of men for their families, their
neighbours, and their country. It is an idle system of philosophy which
sets out with extinguishing those principles of human nature which the
Creator has implanted for wise and good ends. He that shall so far
succeed in practising this philosophy as to look with indifference upon
his parent, his wife, and his son, will not often be found with much zeal
to exercise kindness and benevolence to the world at large.
Christianity rejects alike the extravagance of patriotism and the ex
travagance of seeming philanthropy. Its precepts are addressed to us
as men with human constitutions, and as men in society. But to cherish
and support my own child rather than others ; to do good to my neigh-
* Rom. ix. 3. f Gal. vi. 10. 1 1 Tim. v. 8.
CHAP. 17.] NOT THE SOLDIER'S MOTIVE. 385
hours rather than to strangers ; to benefit my own country rather than
another nation does not imply that we may injure other nations, or stran
gers, or their children, in order to do good to our own. Here is the
point for discrimination, — a point which vulgar patriotism and vulgar
philosophy have alike overlooked.
The proper mode in which patriotism should be exercised is that which
does not necessarily respect other nations. He is the truest patriot who
benefits his own country without diminishing the welfare of another. For
which reason, those who induce improvements in the administration of
justice, in the maxims of governing, in the political constitution of the
state, — or those who extend and rectify the education, or in any other
manner amend the moral or social condition of a people, possess incom
parably higher claims to the praise of patriotism than multitudes of
those who receive it from the popular voice.
That patriotism which is manifested in political partisanship is fre
quently of a very questionable kind. The motives to this partisanship
a.e often for other than the love of our country, even when the measure
which a party pursues tends to the country's good ; and many are called
patriots of whom both the motives and the actions are pernicious or im
pure. The most vulgar and unfounded talk of patriotism is that which
relates to the agents of military operations. In general, the patriotism
is of a kind which Christianity condemns : because it is *' in opposition
to general benignity." It does more harm to another country than good
to our own. In truth, the merit often consists in the harm that is done
to another country, with but little pretensions to benefiting our own.
These agents therefore, if they were patriotic at all, would commonly be
so in an unchristian sense. And as to their being influenced by patriot
ism as a motive, the notion is ordinarily quite a fiction. When a French
man is sent with ten thousand others into Spain, or a Spaniard with an
army into France, he probably is so far from acting the patriot that he
does not know whether his country would not be more benefited by
throwing down his arms : nor probably does he know about what the
two nations are quarrelling. Men do not enter armies because they love
their countries, but because they want a living, or are pleased with a mili
tary life : and when they have entered, they do not fight because they
love their country, but because fighting is their business. At the very
moment of fighting the nation at home is perhaps divided in opinion as
to the propriety of carrying on the war. One party maintains that the
war is beneficial, and one that it is ruining the nation. But the soldier, for
whatever he fights, and whether really in promotion of his country's good
or in opposition to it, is secure of his praise.
All this is sufficiently deceptive and absurd : the delusion would be
ridiculous if the topic were not too grave for ridicule. It forms one
among the many fictions by which the reputation of military affairs is
kept up. Why such fictions are needful to the purpose it may be wis.
for the reader to inquire. I suppose the cause is, that truth and reality
would not serve the purposes of military reputation, and therefore that
recourse is had to pleasant fictions. This may however have been done
without a distinct consciousness, on the part of the inventors, of the de
lusions which they spread. I do not wholly coincide with the writer who
sayst *« The love of our country is one of those specious illusions
which have been invented by impostors in order to render the multitude
Bb
386 SLAVERY. [ESSAY III.
the blind instruments of their crooked designs."* The love of our coun
try is a virtuous motive of action. The " specious illusion" consists in
calling that " love of our country" which ought to be called by a far other
name. As to those who have thus misnamed human motives and actions,
I know not whether they have often been such wily impostors. The
probable supposition is, that they have frequently been duped themselves
He whom ambition urged on to conquest tried to persuade himself, and
perhaps did persuade himself, that he was actuated by the love of his
country. He persuaded, also, his followers in arms ; and they no doubt
were sufficiently willing to hope that they were influenced by such a
motive. But, in whatever manner the fiction originated, a fiction it assu
redly is ; and the circumstance that it is still industriously imposed upon
the world is no inconsiderable evidence that the system which it is
employed to encourage would shrink from the eye of virtue and the light
of (ruth.
Upon the whole, we shall act both safely and wisely in lowering the
relative situation of patriotism in the scale of Christian virtues. It is a
virtue ; but it is far from the greatest or the highest. The world has
given to it an unwarranted elevation, — an elevation to which it has no
pretensions in the view of truth ; and if the friends of truth consign it
to its proper station, it is probable that there will be fewer spurious pre
tensions to its praise.
CHAPTER XVIIL
SLAVERY.
AT a future day, it will probably become a subject of wonder, how it
could have happened that upon such a subject as slavery, men could have
inquired and examined and debated, year after year; and that many years
actually passed before the minds of a nation were so fully convinced of
its enormity, and of their consequent duty to abolish it, as to suppress it
to the utmost of their power. I say this will probably be a subject of
wonder ; because the question is so simple that he who simply applies
the requisitions of the moral law finds no time for reasoning or for doubt.
The question, as soon as it is proposed, is decided. How then, it will
be asked in future days, could a Christian legislature argue and con
tend, and contend and argue again ; and allow an age to pass without
deciding?
The cause is, that men do not agree as to the rule of decision, — as to
the test by which the question should be examined. One talks of the
rights to property, — one of the interests of merchants, — one of safety,
- — one of policy : all which are valid and proper considerations ; but
they are not the primary consideration. The first question is, Is slavery
right? Is it consistent with the moral law ? This question is in practice
postponed to others, even by some who theoretically acknowledge its
* Godwin : Pol. Justice, v. ii. p, 514..
CHAP. 18.] REQUISITIONS OF MORAL LAW. 397
primary claim ; and when to the indistinct principles of there is added
the want of principle in others, it is easy to account for the delay and
opposition with which the advocate of simple rectitude is met.
To him who examines slavery by the standard to which all questions
of human duty should be referred, the task of deciding, we say, is short.
Whether it is consistent with the Christian law for one man to keep an
other in bondage without his consent, and to compel him to labour for that
other's advantage, admits of no more doubt than whether two and two
make four. It were humiliating, then, to set about the proof that the
slave system is incompatible with Christianity ; because no man ques
tions its incompatibility who knows what Christianity is, and what it re
quires. Unhappily, some who can estimate, with tolerable precision,
the duties of morality upon other subjects, contemplate this through a
veil, — a veil which habit has suspended before them, and which is dense
enough to intercept the view of the moral features of slavery as they are
presented to others who examine it without an intervening medium, and
with no other light than the light of truth. To these, the best counsel
that we can offer is to simplify their reasonings, — to recur to first princi
ples ; and first principles are few. Look, then, at the foundation of all
the relative duties of man, — Benevolence, — Love : — that love and be
nevolence which is the fulfilling of the moral law, — that " charity" which
prompts to actions of kindness, and tenderness, and fellow-feeling for all
men. Does he who seizes a person in Guinea, and drags him shrieking
to a vessel, practise this benevolence ? When three or four hundreds
have been thus seized, does he who chains them together in a suffoca
ting hold practise this benevolence ? When they have reached another
shore, does he who gives money to the first for his victims, — keeps them
as his property, — and compels them to labour for his profit, practise this
benevolence ? Would either of these persons think, if their relative
situations were exchanged with the African's, that the Africans used
them kindly and justly ? No. Then the question is decided : Christian
ity condemns the system ; and no further inquiry about rectitude remains.
The question is as distinctly settled as when a man commits a burglary
it is distinctly certain that he has violated the law.
But of the flagitiousness of the system in the view of Christianity, its
defenders are themselves aware, — for they tell us, if not with decency
at least with openness, that Christianity must be excluded from the
inquiry. What does this exclusion imply ? Obviously, that the advo
cates of slavery are conscious that Christianity condemns it. They take
her away from the judgment-seat, because they know she will pronounce
a verdict against them. — Does the reader desire more than this ? Here
is the evidence, both of enemies and of friends, that the moral law of
God condemns the slave system. If therefore we are Christians, the
question is not merely decided, but confessedly decided : and what more
do we ask ?
It is, to be sure, a curious thing, that they who affirm they are Chris,
tians will not have their conduct examined by the Christian law ; and
while they baptize their children, and kneel at the communion-table, tell
us that with one of the greatest questions of practical morality our reli
gion has no concern.
Two reasons induce the writer to confine himself, upon this subject,
to little more than the exhibition of fundamental principles ; first, that
the details of the slavery question are already laid, in unnumbered pub-
Bb2
388 SLAVERY. [ESSAY III
lications, before the public ; and secondly, that he does not think it will
long remain, at least in this country, a subject for discussion. That the
system will, so far as the British government is concerned, at no distant
period be abolished, appears nearly certain ; and he is unwilling to fill
the pages of a book of general morality with discussions which, ere
many years have passed, may possess no relevance to the affairs of the
Christian world.
Yet one remark is offered as to a subordinate means of estimating the
goodness or badness of a cause, — that which consists in referring to the
principles upon which each party reasons, to the general spirit, to the
tone and the temper of the disputants. Now, I am free to confess, that
if I had never heard an argument against slavery, I should find, in the
writings of its defenders, satisfactory evidence that their cause is bad.
So true is this, that if at any time I needed peculiarly to impress myself
with the flagitiousness of the system, I should take up the book of a
determined advocate. There I find the most unequivocal of all testi
mony against it, — that which is unwittingly furnished by its advocates.
There I find, first, that the fundamental principles of morality are given
to the winds ; that the proper foundation of the reasoning is rejected
and ridiculed. There I find that the temper and dispositions which are
wont to influence the advocate of a good cause are scarcely to be found ;
and that those which usually characterize a bad one continually appear :
and therefore, even setting aside inaccurate statements and fallacious
reasonings, I am assured, from the general character of the defence, and
conduct of the defenders, that the system is radically vicious and bad.
The distinctions which are made between the original robbery in
Africa, and the purchase, the inheritance, or the " breeding" of slaves in
the colonies, do not at all respect the kind of immorality that attaches to
the whole system. They respect nothing but the degree. The man
who wounds and robs another on the highway is a more atrocious
offender than he who plunders a hen-roost ; but he is not more truly an
offender, he is not more certainly a violator of the law. And so with the
slave system. He who drags a wretched man from his family in Africa
is a more flagitious transgressor than he who merely compels the Afri
can to labour for his own advantage ; but the transgression, the immoral
ity, is as real and certain in one case as in the other. He who had no
right to steal the African can have none to sell him. From him who is
known to have no right to sell, another can have no right to buy or to
possess. Sale, or gift, or legacy imparts no right to me, because the
seller, or giver, or bequeather had none himself. The sufferer has just
as valid a claim to liberty at my hands as at the hands of the ruffian who
first dragged him from his home. — Every hour of every day, the present
possessor is guilty of injustice. Nor is the case altered with respectHo
those who are born on a man's estate. The parents were never the land
holder's property, and therefore the child is not. Nay, if the parents
had been rightfully slaves, it would not justify me in making slaves of
their children. No man has a right to make a child a slave, but himself.
What are our sentiments upon kindred subjects ? What do we think of
the justice of the Persian system, by which when a state offender is put
to death his brothers and his children are killed or mutilated too ? Or,
to come nearer to the point, as well as nearer home, what should we say
of a law which enacted that of every criminal who was sentenced to
labour for life, all the children should be sentenced so to labour also ?-—
CHAP. 18.] THE SLAVE SYSTEM. 389
And yet if 'there is any comparison of reasonableness, it seems to be in
one respect in favour of the culprit. He is condemned to slavery for his
crimes: the African, for another man's profit.
That any human being, who has not forfeited his liberty by his crimes,
has a right to be free, — and that whosoever forcibly withholds liberty
from an innocent man robs him of his right, and violates the moral law,
are truths which no man would dispute or doubt, if custom had not
obscured our perceptions, or if wickedness did not prompt us to close
our eyes.*
The whole system is essentially and radically bad : injustice and
oppression are its fundamental principles. Whatever lenity may be
requisite in speaking of the agent, none should be shown, none should be
expressed for the act. I do not affirm or imagine that every slaveholder
is therefore a wicked man ; but if he be not, it is only upon the score of
ignorance. If he is exempt from the guilt of violating the moral law, it is
only because he does not perceive what it requires. Let us leave the
deserts of the individual to Him who knoweth the heart: of his actions
we may speak ; and we should speak in the language of reprobation, dis
gust, and abhorrence.
Although it could be shown that the slave system is expedient, it
would not affect the question whether it ought to be maintained : yet it
is remarkable that it is shown to be impolitic as well as bad. We arc
not violating the moral law because it tills our pockets. We injure our
selves by our own transgressions. The slave system is a costly iniquity,
both to the nation and to individual men. It is matter of great satisfac
tion that this is known and proved : and yet it is just what, antecedently
to inquiry, we should have reason to expect. The truth furnishes one
addition to the many evidences, that even with respect to temporal affairs,
that which is right is commonly politic ; and it ought therefore to furnish
additional inducements to a fearless conformity of conduct, private and
public, to the moral law.
It is quite evident that our slave system will be abolished, and that its
supporters will hereafter be regarded with the same public feelings as
he who was an advocate of the slave-trade is now. How is it that legis-
* [Every system of conduct which is essentially iniquitous is founded upon some false prin
ciple. The 'false principle in slavery is that which maintains the right of property m man.
There is no such right, and no man can innocently hold it. Considered therefore purelv as
a question of morals, the first, imperative, and immediate duty of the slave-holder is, by a
mental act to renounce and disavow this right. And in this act, when performed exanimo,
consists the essence of emancipation, for from that moment, if he be sincere, he \vill cease
either to buy or sell his fellow-creatures ; and if once the traffic in slaves ceases, the axe is
laid at the root of the evil, and it will ere long inevitably be done away. But the duty of
immediate manumission by no means follows as a necessary consequence of the immediate aban
donment of the above-mentioned principle. The conscientious slave-holder, though he can
no longer regard his slaves as his property, will still feel that they are providentially thrown
upon his hands as a charge, and that he is morally bound, in the character of trustee and
guardian, to make provision for their well-being, and to endeavour, as soon as it can be done
consistently with their best interests, and the best interests of the community, to put i
in full possession of the privileges and prerogatives of freemen. In the mean time, there is
nothing in moral equity that forbids his availing himself of their services, as he has the care
of their support. Morality, however, insists upon the immediate discontinuance of t
in human beings, which cannot be practised without virtually assuming the reality of a right
which is indeed a nullity.
It is doing a manifest violence to every thing that bears the name of liberty or of chanty to
denounce as dangerous and incendiary the attempts of calm and enlightened philanthropy
(who view the subject of slavery entirely in its moral aspects) to disseminate corn
respecting it or to brand sober discussion with the opprobious title of officious intermeddling.
Wisdom and moderation are doubtless needful to the discussion, but slavery is one 01 the
great questions of humanity in which the moralist is not at liberty to be silent.— B.j
390 WAR— INTRODUCTION. [ESSAY III.
lators or that public men are so indifferent to their fame ? Who would
now be willing that biography should record of him, — This man defended
the slave-trade ? The time will come when the record, — This man op
posed the abolition of slavery, — will occasion a great deduction from the
public estimate of worth of character. When both these atrocities are
abolished, and but for the page of history forgotten, that page will make
a wide difference between those who aided the abolition and those who
obstructed it. The one will be ranked among the Howards that are
departed, and the other among those who, in ignorance or in guilt, have
employed their little day in inflicting misery upon mankind
CHAPTER XIX.
WAR.
IT is one among the numerous moral phenomena of the present times
that the inquiry is silently yet not slowly spreading in the world — Is
War compatible with the Christian religion ? There was a period when
the question was seldom asked, and when war was regarded almost by
every man both as inevitable and right. That period has certainly
passed away ; and not only individuals but public societies, and societies
in distant nations, are urging the question upon the attention of mankind.
The simple circumstance that it is thus urged contains no irrational mo
tive to investigation : for why should men ask the question if they did
not doubt ; and how, after these long ages of prescription, could they
begin to doubt, without a reason ?
It is not unworthy of remark, that while disquisitions are frequently
issuing from the press of which the tendency is to show that war is not
compatible with Christianity, few serious attempts are made to show that
it is. Whether this results from the circumstance that no individual
peculiarly is interested in the proof, — or that there is a secret conscious
ness that proof cannot be brought, — or that those who may be desirous
of defending the custom rest in security that the impotence of its assail
ants will be of no avail against a custom so established and so supported,
— I do not know : yet the fact is remarkable that scarcely a defender is
to be found. It cannot be doubted that the question is one of the utmost
interest and importance to man. Whether the custom be defensible or not,
every man should inquire into its consistency with the moral law. If it
is defensible, he may, by inquiry, dismiss the scruples which it is certain
subsist in the minds of multitudes, and thus exempt himself from the
offence of participating in that which, though pure, he " esteemeth to be
unclean." If it is not defensible, the propriety of investigation is
increased in a tenfold degree.
It may be a subject therefore of reasonable regret to the friends and
the lovers of truth, that the question of the moral lawfulness of war is
not brought fairly before the public. I say fairly ; because though many
of the publications which impugn its lawfulness advert to the ordinary
arguments in its favour, yet it is not to be assumed that they give to those
arguments all that vigour and force which would be imparted by a stated and
an able advocate. Few books, it is probable, would tend more powerfully
CHAP. 19.] CAUSES OF WAR. 39!
to promote the discovery and dissemination of truth than one which
should frankly and fully and ably advocate upon sound moral principles
the practice of war. The public would then see the whole of what can
be urged in its favour without being obliged to seek for arguments, as
they now must, in incidental or imperfect or scattered disquisitions : and
possessing in a distinct form the evidence of both parties, they would be
enabled to judge justly between them. Perhaps, if, invited as the public
are to the discussion, no man is hereafter willing to adventure in the
cause, the conclusion will not be unreasonable that no man is destitute
of a consciousness that the cause is not a good one.
Meantime it is the business of him whose inquiries have conducted
him to the conclusion that the cause is not good, to exhibit the evidence
upon which the conclusion is founded. It happens upon the subject of
war, more than upon almost any other subject of human inquiry, that
the individual finds it difficult to contemplate its merits with an unin
fluenced mind. He finds it difficult to examine it as it would be examined
by a philosopher to whom the subject was new. He is familiar with its
details ; he is habituated to the idea of its miseries ; he has perhaps
never doubted, because he has never questioned, its rectitude ; nay, he
has associated with it ideas, not of splendour only, but of honour and of
merit. That such an inquirer will not, without some effort of abstrac
tion, examine the question with impartiality and justice, is plain ; and
therefore the first business of him who would satisfy his mind respecting
the lawfulness of war, is to divest himself of all those habits of thought
and feeling which have been the result, not of reflection and judgment,
but of the ordinary associations of life. And perhaps he may derive
some assistance in this necessary but not easy dismissal of previous
opinions, by referring first to some of the ordinary causes and conse
quences of war. • The reference will enable us also more satisfactorily
to estimate the moral character of the practice itself; for it is no unim
portant auxiliary in forming such an estimate of human actions or opin
ions, to know how they have been produced, and what are their
effects.
CAUSES OF WAR.
Of these causes one undoubtedly consists in the want of inquiry.
We have been accustomed from earliest life to a familiarity with its
" pomp and circumstance ;" soldiers have passed us at every step, and
battles and victories have been the topic of every one around us. It
therefore becomes familiarized to all our thoughts, and interwoven with
all our associations. We have never inquired whether these things
should be : the question does not even suggest itself. We acquiesce in
it, as we acquiesce in the rising of the sun, without any other idea than
that it is a part of the ordinary processes of the world. And how are
we to feel disapprobation of a system that we do not examine, and of the
nature of which we do not think ? Want of inquiry has been the means
by which long-continued practices, whatever has been their enormity,
have obtained the general concurrence of the world, and by which they
have continued to pollute or degrade it, long after the few who inquire
392 INDIFFERENCE TO HUMAN MISERY. [ESSAY III.
into their nature have discovered them to be bad. It was by these means
that the slave-trade was so long tolerated by this land of humanity.
Men did not think of its iniquity. We were induced to think, and we
soon abhorred, and then abolished it. Of the effects of this want of
inquiry we have indeed frequent examples upon the subject before us.
Many who have all their lives concluded that war is lawful and right
have found, when they began to examine the question, that their conclu
sions were founded upon no evidence ; that they had believed in its
rectitude, not because they had possessed themselves of proof, but because
they had never inquired whether it was capable of proof or not. In the
present moral state of the world, one of the first concerns of him who
would discover pure morality should be, to question the purity of that
which now obtains.
Another cause of our complacency with war, and therefore another
cause of war itself, consists in that callousness to human misery which
the custom induces. They who are shocked at a single murder on the
highway hear with indifference of the slaughter of a thousand on the
field. They whom the idea of a single corpse would thrill with terror
contemplate that of heaps of human carcasses mangled by human hands
with frigid indifference. If a murder is committed, the narrative is given
in the public newspaper, with many adjectives of horror, with many
expressions of commiseration, and many hopes that the perpetrator
will be detected. In the next paragraph the editor, perhaps, tells us that
he has hurried a second edition to the press, in order that he may be
the first to glad the public with the intelligence, that in an engagement
which has just taken place, eight hundred and fifty of the enemy were killed.
Now, is not this latter intelligence eight hundred and fifty times as
deplorable as the first? Yet the first is the subject of our sorrow, and
this — of our joy! The inconsistency and disproportionateness which has
been occasioned in our sentiments of benevolence offers a curious moral
phenomenon.*
The immolations of the Hindoos fill us with compassion or horror,
and we are zealously labouring to prevent them : the sacrifices of life by
our own criminal executions are the subject of our anxious commisera
tion, and we are strenuously endeavouring to diminish their number. We
feel that the life of a Hindoo or a malefactor is a serious thing, and that
nothing but imperious necessity should induce us to destroy the one or
to permit the destruction of the other. Yet what are these sacrifices
* Part of the Declaration and Oath prescribed to be taken by Catholics is this : " I do
solemnly declare before God, that I believe that no act in itself unjust, immoral, or wicked
can ever be justified or excused by or under pretence or colour that it was done either for the
good of the church or in obedience to any ecclesiastical power whatsoever." This decla
ration is required as a solemn act, and is supposed of course to involve a great and sacred
principle of rectitude. We propose the same declaration to be taken by military men, with
the alteration of two words. "I do solemnly declare before God, that I believe that no act
in itself unjust, immoral, or wicked can ever be justified or excused by or under pretence
or colour that it was done either for the good of the state or in obedience to any military
power whatsoever." How would this declaration assort with the customary practice of the
soldier? Put stale for church, and military for ecclesiastical, and then the world thinks that
acts in themselves most unjust, immoral, and wicked are not only justified and excused,
but very meritorious : for in the whole system of warfare justice and morality are utterly dis
regarded. Are those who approve of this Catholic declaration conscious of the grossness of
their own inconsistency ? Or will they tell us that the interests of the state are so paramount
to those of the church, that what would be wickedness in the service of one is virtue in the
service of the other ? The truth we suppose to be, that so intense is the power of public
opinion, that of the thousands who approve the Catholic declarations and practices of war,
there are scarcely tens who even perceive their own inconsistency. Mem. in the MS.
CHAP. 19.] NATIONAL IRRITABILITY. 393
of life in comparison with the sacrifices of war ? In the late campaign
in Russia, there fell, during one hundred and seventy-three days in suc
cession, an average of two thousand nine hundred men per day. More
than five hundred thousand human beings in less than six months ! And
most of these victims expired with peculiar intensity of suffering. We
are carrying our benevolence to the Indies, but what becomes of it in
Russia, or at Leipsic ? We are labouring to save a few lives from the
gallows, but where is our solicitude to save them on the field ? Life is
life wheresoever it be sacrificed, and has everywhere equal claims to
our regard. I am not now saying that war is wrong, but that we regard
its miseries with an indifference with which we regard no others ; that
if our sympathy were reasonably excited respecting them, we should bo
powerfully prompted to avoid war ; and that the want of this reasonable
and virtuous sympathy is one cause of its prevalence in the world.
And another consists in national irritability. It is assumed (not indeed
upon the most rational grounds) that the best way of supporting the dig
nity and maintaining the security of a nation is, when occasions of dis
agreement arise, to assume a high attitude and a fearless tone. We
keep ourselves in a state of irritability which is continually alive to
occasions of offence ; and he that is prepared to be offended readily finds
offences. A jealous sensibility sees insults and injuries where sober
eyes see nothing ; and nations thus surround themselves with a sort of
artificial tentacula, which they throw wide in quest of irritation, and by
which they are stimulated to revenge, by every touch of accident or
inadvertency. They who are easily offended will als»o easily offend.
What is the experience of private life ? The man who is always on the
alert to discover trespasses on his honour or his rights never fails to
quarrel with his neighbours. Such a person may be dreaded as a tor
pedo. We may fear, but we shall not love him ; and fear, without love,
easily lapses into enmity. There are, therefore, many fends and litiga
tions in the life of such a man, that would never have distui bed its quiet,
if he had not captiously snarled at the trespasses of accident, and
savagely retaliated insignificant injuries. The viper that we chance to
molest we suffer to live, if he continue to be quiet ; but if he raise him
self in menaces of destruction, we knock him on the head.
It is with nations as with men. If on every offence we fly to arras,
we shall of necessity provoke exasperation ; and if we exasperate a
people as petulant as ourselves, we may probably continue to butcher
one another, until we cease only from emptiness of exchequers or weari
ness of slaughter. To threaten war is therefore often equivalent to
beginning it. In the present state of men's principles, it is not probable
that one nation will observe another levying men, and building ships, and
founding cannon, without providing men, and ships, and cannon them
selves ; and when both are thus threatening and defying, what is the
hope that there will not be a war ?
If nations fought only when they could not be at peace, there woulu
be very little fighting in the world. The wars that are waged for " insults
to flags," and an endless train of similar motives, are perhaps generally
attributable to the irritability of our pride. We are at no pains to appear
pacific towards the offender: our remonstrance is a threat; and the
nation which would give satisfaction to an inquiry will give no other
answer to a menace than a menace in return. At length we begin to figM,
not because we are aggrieved, but because we are angry.
17
394 CAUSES OF WAR. [ESJAY III.
may be offered. In 1789 a small Spanish vessel committed some vio
lence in Nootka Sound, under the pretence that the country belonged to
Spain. This appears to have been the principal ground of offence ;
and with this both the government and the people of England were very
angry. The irritability and haughtiness which they manifested were
unaccountable to the Spaniards, and " the peremptory tone was imputed
by Spain, not to the feelings of offended dignity and violated justice, but
to some lurking enmity and some secret designs which we did not choose
to avow."* If the tone had been less peremptory and more rational, no
such suspicion would have been excited, and the hostility which was
consequent upon the suspicion would of course have been avoided. Hap
pily the English were not so passionate but that before they proceeded
to light they negotiated, and settled the affair amicably. The prepara
tions for this foolish war cost however three millions one hundred and
thirty-three thousand pounds !
So well indeed is national irritability known to be an efficient cause
of war, that they who from any motive wish to promote it endeavour to
rouse the temper of a people by stimulating their passions, — just as the
boys in our streets stimulate two dogs to fight. These persons talk of
the insults, or the encroachments, or the contempts of the destined
enemy, with every artifice of aggravation ; they tell us of foreigners who
want to trample upon our rights, of rivals, who ridicule our power, of
foes who will crush, and of tyrants who will enslave us. They pursue
their object, certainly, by efficacious means : they desire a Avar, and
therefore irritate our passions ; and when men are angry they are easily
persuaded to fight.
That this cause of war is morally bad, — that petulance and irritability
are wholly incompatible with Christianity, these pages have repeatedly
shown.
Wars are often promoted from considerations of interest, as well as
from passion. The love of gain adds its influence to our other
motives to support them; and without other motives we know that
this love is sufficient to give great obliquity to the moral judgment,
and to tempt us to many crimes. During a war of ten years there
•will always be many whose income depends on its continuance ; and
a countless host of commissaries, and purveyors, and agents, and
mechanics commend a "war because it fills their pockets. And, unhap
pily, if money is in prospect, the desolation of a kingdom is often of
little concern : destruction and slaughter are not to be put in competi
tion with a hundred a year. In truth it seems sometimes to be the sys
tem of the conductors of a war to give to the sources of gain endless
ramifications. The more there are who profit by it the more numerous
are its supporters ; and thus the projects of a cabinet become identified
with the wishes of the people, and both are gratified in the prosecution
of war.
A support more systematic and powerful is however given to war, be
cause it offers to the higher ranks of society a profession which unites gen
tility with profit, and which, without the vulgarity of trade, maintains or
enriches them. It is of little consequence to inquire whether the dis
tinction of vulgarity between the toils of war and the toils of commerce
be fictitious. In the abstract, it is fictitious ; but of this species of repu-
* Smollett's England.
CHAP. 19.] SECRET MOTIVES OF CABINETS— GLORY. 395
tation public opinion holds the arbitrium et juset norma ; and public opin
ion is in favour of war.
The army and the navy therefore afford to the middle and higher
classes a most acceptable profession. The profession of arms is like
the profession of law or physic, — a regular source of employment ami
profit. Boys are educated for the army as they are educated for the bar;
and parents appear to have no other idea than that war is part of the
business of the world. Of younger sons, whose fathers, in pursuance of
the unhappy system of primogeniture, do not choose to support them at
the expense of the heir, the army and the navy are the common resource.
They would not know what to do without them. To many of these the
news of a peace is a calamity ; and though they may not lift their voices
in favour of new hostilities for the sake of gain, it is unhappily certain
that they often secretly desire it
It is in this manner that much of the rank, the influence, and the
wealth of a country become interested in the promotion of wars ; and
when a custom is promoted by wealth, and influence, and rank, what is
the wonder that it should be continued ? It is said (if my memory serves
me, by Sir Walter Raleigh), " he that taketh up his rest to live by this
profession shall hardly be an honest man."
By depending upon war for a subsistence, a powerful inducement is
given to desire it ; and when the question of war is to be decided, it is
to be feared that the whispers of interest will prevail, and that humanity,
and religion, and conscience will be sacrificed to promote it.
Of those causes of war which consist in the ambition of princes or
statesmen or commanders, it is not necessary to speak, because no one
to whom the world will listen is willing to defend them.
Statesmen however have, besides ambition, many purposes of nice
policy which make wars convenient ; and when they have such purposes,
they are sometimes cool speculators in the lives of men. They who
have much patronage have many dependants, and they who have many
dependants have much power. By a war, thousands become dependent
on a minister ; and if he be disposed, he can often pursue schemes of
guilt, and intrench himself in unpunished wickedness, because the war
enables him to silence the clamour of opposition by an office, and to
secure the suffrages of venality by a bribe. He has therefore many
motives to war, — in ambition, that does not refer to conquest ; or in fear,
that extends only to his office or his pocket : for fear and ambition are
sometimes more interesting considerations than the happiness and the
lives of men. Cabinets have, in truth, many secret motives to wars of
which the people know little. They talk in public of invasions of right,
of breaches of treaty, of the support of honour, of the necessity of re
taliation, when these motives have no influence on their determmatic
Some untold purpose of expediency, or the private quarrel of a prince,
or the pique or anger of a minister, are often the real motives to a con
test, while its promoters are loudly talking of the honour or tl
of the country.
But perhaps the most operative cause of the popularity of war, a
of the facility with which we engage in it, consists in this ; that an
glory is attached to military exploits, and of honour to the military p
fession. The glories of battle, and of those who perish in it or whc
return in triumph to their country, are favourite topics of declamat
with the historian, the biographer, and the poet. They have told us
396 MILITARY GLORY. [ESSAY III.
thousand times of dying heroes, who " resign their lives amid the joys of
conquest, and, filled with their country's glory, smile in death ;" and thus
every excitement that eloquence and genius can command is employed
to arouse that ambition of fame which can be gratified only at the expense
of blood.
Into the nature and principles of this fame and glory we have already
inquired ; and in the view alike of virtue and of intellect, they are low
and bad.* " Glory is the most selfish of all passions except love."| —
4 1 cannot tell how or why the love of glory is a less selfish principle
than the love of riches. "| Philosophy and intellect may therefore well
despise it, and Christianity silently yet emphatically condemns it.
" Christianity," says Bishop Watson, " quite annihilates the disposition
'or martial glory." Another testimony, and from an advocate of war,
goes further — No part of the heroic character is the subject of the
" commendation, or precepts, or example of Christ ;" but the character
the most opposite to the heroic is the subject of them all.fy
Such is the foundation of the glory which has for so many ages de
ceived and deluded multitudes of mankind ! Upon this foundation a
structure has been raised so vast, so brilliant, so attractive, that the
greater portion of mankind are content to gaze in admiration, without
any inquiry into its basis or any solicitude for its durability. If, how
ever, it should be, that the gorgeous temple will be able to stand only
till Christian truth and light become predominant, it surely will be wise
of those who seek a niche in its apartments as their paramount and final
good, to pause ere they proceed. If they desire a reputation that shall
outlive guilt and fiction, let them look to the basis of military fame. If
this fame should one day sink into oblivion and contempt, it will not be
the first instance in which wide-spread glory has been found to be a glit
tering bubble, that has burst, and been forgotten. Look at the days
of chivalry. Of the ten thousand Quixotes of the middle ages, where
is now the honour of the name ? yet poets once sang their praises, and
the chronicler of their achievements believed he was recording an ever
lasting fame. Where are now the glories of the tournament ? glories
" Of which all Europe rang from side to side."
Where is the champion whom princesses caressed and nobles envied ?
Where are now the triumphs of Duns Scotus, and where are the folios
that perpetuated his fame ? The glories of war have indeed outlived
these : human passions are less mutable than human follies ; but I am
willing to avow my conviction, that these glories are alike destined to
sink into forgetfulness ; and that the time is approaching when the ap
plauses of heroism, and the splendours of conquest, will be remembered
only as follies and iniquities that are past. Let him who seeks for
fame, other than that which an era of Christian purity will allow, make
haste ; for every hour that he delays its acquisition will shorten its dura
tion. This is certain, if there be certainty in the promises of heaven.
Of this factitious glory as a cause of war Gibbon speaks in the
Decline and FalL " As long as mankind," says he, " shall continue to
bestow more liberal applause on their destroyers than on their benefac-
* See Essay, ii. c. 10. t West. Rev. No. 1 for J827.
J Mem. and Rem. of the late Jane Taylor.
§ Paley : Evidences of Christianity, p. 2, c. 2.
CHAP. 19.] CONSEQUENCES OF WAR. 397
tors, the thirst of military glory will ever be the vice of the most ex
alted characters." " 'Tis strange to imagine," says the Earl of Shaftes-
bury, " that war, which of all things appears the most savage, should be
the passion of the most heroic spirits." — But he gives us the reason. —
" By a small misguidance of the affection, a lover of mankind becomes a
ravager ; a hero and deliverer becomes an oppressor and destroyer."*
These are among the great perpetual causes of war. And what are
they ? First, That we do not inquire whether war is right or wrong.
Secondly, That we are habitually haughty and irritable in our intercourse
with other nations. Thirdly, That war is a source of profit to individ
uals, and establishes professions which are very convenient to the middle
and higher ranks of life. Fourthly, That it gratifies the ambition of
public men, and serves the purposes of state policy. Fifthly, That notions
of glory are attached to warlike affairs ; which glory is factitious and
impure.
In the view of reason, and especially in the view of religion, what is
the character of these causes ? Are they pure ? Are they honourable ?
Are they, when connected with their effects, compatible with the moral
law ? — Lastly, and especially, Is it probable that a system of which these
are the great ever-during causes, can itself be good or right ?
CONSEQUENCES OF WAR.
To expatiate upon the miseries which war brings upon mankind ap
pears a trite and a needless employment. We all know that its evils
are great and dreadful. Yet the very circumstance that the knowledge
is familiar may make it unoperative upon our sentiments and our con
duct. It is riot the intensity of misery, it is not the extent of evil alone,
which is necessary to animate us to that exertion which evil and misery
should excite : if it were, surely we should be much more averse than
we now are to contribute, in word or in action, to the promotion of war.
But there are mischiefs attendant upon the system which are not to
every man thus familiar, and on which, for that reason, it is expedient to
remark. In referring especially to some of those moral consequences of
war which commonly obtain little of our attention, it may be observed,
that social and political considerations are necessarily involved in the
moral tendency : for the happiness of society is always diminished by
the diminution of morality; and enlightened policy knows that the
greatest support of a state is the virtue of the people.
And yet the reader should bear in mind— what nothing but the fre
quency of the calamity can make him forget— the intense sufferings and
irreparable deprivations which one battle inevitably entails upon private
life These are calamities of which the world thinks little and which,
if it thought of them, it could not remove. A father or a husband can
seldom be replaced : a void is created in the domestic felicity which
there is little hope that the future will fill. By the slaughter of a war,
there are thousands who weep in unpitied and unnoticed secrecy, whon
the world does not see ; and thousands who retire, m silence, to nopel
* Essay on the Freedom of Wit and Huipour.
398 DESTRUCTION OF LIFE— TAXATION. [ESSAY III.
poverty, for whom it does not care. To these the conquest of a king
dom is of little importance. The loss of a protector or a friend is ill
repaid by empty glory. An addition of territory may add titles to a
king, but the brilliancy of a crown throws little light upon domestic
gloom. It is not my intention to insist upon these calamities, intense,
and irreparable, and unnumbered as they are ; but those who begin a
war without taking them into their estimates of its consequences must
be regarded as, at most, half-seeing politicians. The legitimate object
of political measures is the good of the people ; and a great sum of
good a war must produce, if it outbalances even this portion of its
mischiefs.
Nor should we be forgetful of that dreadful part of all warfare, the
destruction of mankind. The frequency with which this destruction is
represented to our minds has almost extinguished our perception of its
awfulness and horror. Between the years 1141 and 1815, an interval
of six hundred and seventy years, our country has been at war with
France alone two hundred and sixty-six years. If to this we add our
wars with other countries, probably we shall find that one-half of the last
six or seven centuries has been spent by this country in war! A dread
ful picture of human violence ! How many of our fellow-men, of our
fellow-Christians, have these centuries of slaughter cut off! What is the
sum total of the misery of their deaths !*
When political writers expatiate upon the extent and the evils of
taxation, they do not sufficiently bear in mind the reflection that almost
all our taxation is the effect of war. A man declaims upon national
debts. He ought to declaim upon the parent of those debts. Do we
reflect that if heavy taxation entails evils and misery upon the community,
that misery and those evils are inflicted upon us by war ? The amount
of supplies in Queen Anne's reign was about seventy millions ; t and of
this about sixty-six millions J was expended in war. Where is our
equivalent good ?
Such considerations ought, undoubtedly, to influence the conduct of
public men in their disagreements with other states, even if higher con
siderations do not influence it. They ought to form part of the calcula
tions of the evil of hostility. I believe that a greater mass of human
suffering and loss of human enjoyment are occasioned by the pecuniary
distresses of a war, than any ordinary advantages of a war compensate.
But this consideration seems too remote to obtain our notice. Anger at
offence or hope of triumph overpowers the sober calculations of reason,
and outbalances the weight of after and long-continued calamities. The
only question appears to be, whether taxes enough for a war can be
raised, and whether a people will be willing to pay them. But the great
question ought to be (setting questions of Christianity aside), whether
the nation will gain as much by the war as they will lose by taxation and
its other calamities.
If the happiness of the people were, what it ought to be, the primary
and the ultimate object of national measures, I think that the policy which
pursued this object would often find that even the pecuniary distresses
" Since the peace of Amiens more than four millions of human beings have been sacri
ficed to the personal ambition of Napoleon Bonaparte " — Quarterly Review. 25 Art. 1, 1825.
t The sum was 69,81 5,4571.
$ The sum was 65,853,799*. " The nine years' war of 1739 cost this nation upwards of
64 millions, without gaining any object." — Chalmer's Estimate of the Strength of Great Britain.
CHAP. 19.] FAMILIARITY WITH PLUNDER. 399
resulting from a war make a greater deduction from the quantum of
felicity than those evils which the war may have been designed to
avoid.
" But war does more harm to the morals of men than even to their
property and persons."* If, indeed, it depraves our morals more than it
injures our persons and deducts from our property, how enormous must
its mischiefs be !
I do not know whether the greater sum of moral evil resulting from
war is suffered by those who are immediately engaged in it, or by the
public. The mischief is most extensive upon the community, but upon
the profession it is most intense.
Kara fides pietasque viris qui castra sequuntur.— LUCAN.
No one pretends to applaud the morals of an army, — and for its religion,
few think of it at all. The fact is too notorious to be insisted upon, that
thousands who had filled their stations in life with propriety, and been
virtuous from principle, have lost, by a military life, both the practice
and the regard of morality ; and when they have become habituated to
the vices of war, have laughed at their honest and plodding brethren who
are still spiritless enough for virtue or stupid enough for piety.
Does any man ask, What occasions depravity in military life ? I
answer in the words of Robert Hall,| " War reverses, with respect to its
objects, all the rules of morality. It is nothing less than a temporary
repeal of all the principles of virtue. It is a system out of which almost
all the virtues are excluded, and in which nearly all the vices are incor
porated." — And it requires no sagacity to discover, that those who are
engaged in a practice which reverses all the rules of morality, — which
repeals ail the principles of virtue, and in which nearly all the vices are
incorporated, cannot, without the intervention of a miracle, retain their
minds and morals undepraved.
Look for illustration to the familiarity with the plunder of property and
the slaughter of mankind which war induces. He who plunders the
citizen of another nation without remorse or reflection, and bears away
the spoil with triumph, will inevitably lose something of his principles
of probity.]; He who is familiar with slaughter, who has himself often
perpetrated it, and who exults in the perpetration, will not retain unde
praved the principles of virtue. His moral feelings are blunted ; his
moral vision is obscured ; his principles are shaken ; an inroad is made
upon their integrity, and it is an inroad that makes after-inroads the more
easy. Mankind do not generally resist the influence of habit. If we
rob and shoot those who are " enemies" to-day, we are in some degree
prepared to shoot and rob those who are not enemies to-morrow. Law
may indeed still restrain us from violence ; but the power and efficiency
of principle is diminished : and this alienation of the mind from the
practice, the love, and the perception of Christian purity, therefore,^ of
necessity extends its influence to the other circumstances of life. The
whole evil is imputable to war ; and we say that this evil forms a power
ful evidence against it, whether we direct that evidence to the abstract
question of its lawfulness, or to the practical question of its expediency.
* Erasmus t Sermon, 1822.
1 See Smollett's England, vol. iv. p. 370. " This terrible truth, which I cannot help
repeating, must be acknowledged :— indifference and selfishness are the predominant feeling*
faa an army."— Miofs M&moires de r Expedition en Egypte, <f-c. Mem. m the MS.
400 RELINQUISHMENT OF MORAL AGENCY. [ESSAY III.
That can scarcely be lawful which necessarily occasions such wide
spread immorality. That can scarcely be expedient which is so perni
cious to virtue, and therefore to the state.
The economy of war requires of every soldier an implicit submission
to his superior ; and this submission is required of every gradation of
rank to that above it. " I swear to obey the orders of the officers who
are set over me ; so help me God," This system may be necessary to
hostile operations, but I think it is unquestionably adverse to intellectual
and moral excellence.
The very nature of unconditional obedience implies the relinquishment
of the use of the reasoning powers. Little more is required of the soldier
than that he be obedient and brave. His obedience is that of an animal,
which is moved by a goad or a bit, without judgment of his own ; and his
bravery is that of a mastiff that fights whatever mastiff others put before
him.* It is obvious that in such agency the intellect and the understand
ing have little part. Now I think that this is important. He who, with
whatever motive, resigns the direction of his conduct implicitly to another,
jsurely cannot retain that erectness and independence of mind, that manly
consciousness of mental freedom, which is one of the highest privileges
of our nature. A British captain declares that " the tendency of strict
discipline, such as prevails on board ships of war, where almost every
act of a man's life is regulated by the orders of his superiors, is to weaken
the faculty of independent thought."! Thus the rational being becomes
reduced in the intellectual scale: an encroachment is made upon the
integrity of its independence. God has given us, individually, capacities
for the regulation of our individual conduct. To resign its direction,
therefore, to the absolute disposal of another, appears to be an unmanly
and unjustifiable relinquishment of the privileges which he has granted
to us. And the effect is obviously bad ; for although no character will
apply universally to any large class of men, and although the intellectual
character of the military profession does not result only from this unhappy
subjection, yet it will not be disputed, that the honourable exercise of
intellect among that profession is not relatively great. It is not from
them that we expect, because it is not from them that we generally find,
those vigorous exertions of intellect which dignify our nature, and which
extend the boundaries of human knowledge.
But the intellectual effects of military subjection form but a small
portion of its evils. The great mischief is, that it requires the relin
quishment of our moral agency ; that it requires us to do what is opposed
to our consciences, and what we know to be wrong. A soldier must obey,
how criminal soever the command, and how criminal soever he knows it
to be. It is certain, that of those who compose armies, many commit
actions which they believe to be wicked, and which they would not com
mit but for the obligations of a military life. Although a soldier deter-
minately believes that the war is unjust, although he is convinced that
his particular part of the service is atrociously criminal, still he must
proceed, — he must prosecute the purposes of injustice or robbery, he
mast participate in the guilt, and be himself a robber.
To what a situation is a rational and responsible being reduced, who
* By one article of the Constitutional Code even of republican France, "the army were
expressly prohibited from deliberating on any subject whatever."
Captain Basil Hall : Voyage to Loo Choo, c. 2. We make no distinction between the
nail tary and naval professions, and employ one word to indicate both.
CHAP. 19.J EFFECTS OF WAR. 401
commits actions, good or bad, at the word of another ? I can conceive
no greater degradation. It is the lowest, the final abjectness of the
moral nature. It is this if we abate the glitter of war, and if we add this
glitter it is nothing more.
Such a resignation of oui moral agency is not contended for or toler
ated in any one other circumstance of human life. War stands upon
this pinnacle of depravity alone. She, only, in the supremacy of crime,
has^told us that she has abolished even the obligation to be virtuous.
• Some writers who have perceived the monstrousness of this system
have told ii« that a soldier should assure himself before he engages in a
war, that it is a lawful and just one ; and they acknowledge that if he
does not feel this assurance, he is a " murderer." But how is he to
know that the war is just ? It is frequently difficult for the people dis
tinctly to discover what the objects of a war are. And if the soldier
knew that it was just in its commencement, how is he to know that it
will continue just in its prosecution ? Every war is, in some parts of its
course, wicked and unjust ; and who can tell what that course will be ?
You say, — When he discovers any injustice or wickedness, let him with
draw : we answer, He cannot : and the truth is, that there is no way oV
avoiding the evil, but by avoiding the army.
It is an inquiry of much interest, under what circumstances of respon
sibility a man supposes himself to be placed, who thus abandons and
violates his own sense of rectitude and of his duties. Either he is re
sponsible for his actions, or he is not ; and the question is a serious one
to determine.* Christianity has certainly never stated any cases in
which personal responsibility ceases. If she admits such cases, she
has at least not told us so ; but she has told us, explicitly and repeatedly,
that she does require individual obedience, and impose individual respon
sibility. She has made no exceptions to the imperativeness of her obli
gations, whether we are required by others to neglect them or not ; and
I can discover in her sanctions no reason to suppose, that in her iinal
adjudications she admits the plea, that another required us to do-that which
she required us to forbear. But it may be feared, it may be believed, that
how little soever religion will abate of the responsibility of those who
obey, she will impose not a little upon those who command. They, at
least, are answerable for the enormities of war : unless, indeed, any one
shall tell me that responsibility attaches nowhere ; that that which would
be wickedness in another man is innocence in a soldier ; and that Hea
ven has granted to the directors of war a privileged immunity, by virtue
of which crime incurs no guilt, and receives no punishment.
And here it is fitting to observe, that the obedience to arbitrary power
which war exacts possesses more of the character of servility, and even
of slavery, than we are accustomed to suppose. I will acknowledge
that when I see a company of men in a stated dress, and of a stated
colour, ranged, rank and file, in the attitude of obedience, turning or
walking at the word of another, now changing the position of a limb, and
now altering the angle of a foot, I feel that there is something in the sys-
* Vattel indeed tells us that soldiers ought to " submit their judgment." " What," says
he, "would be the consequence, if at every step of the sovereign the subjects were at lib
erty to weigh the justice of his reasons, and refuse to march to a war which to them might
appear unjust?"— Law of Nat. b. 3,c. 11, sec. 187. Gisborne holds very different language.
" It is," he says, " at all times the duty of an Englishman steadfastly to decline obeying any
orders of his superiors which his conscience should tell him were in any degree impious o
unjust." — Duties of Men.
Cc
402 LOAN OF ARMIES. [ESSAY ill.
tern that is wrong, — something incongruous with the proper dignity, with the
intellectual station of man. I do not know whether I shall be charged
with indulging in idle sentiment or idler affectation. If I hold unusual
language upon the subject, let it be remembered that the subject is itself
unusual. I will retract my affectation and sentiment, if the reader will
show me any case in life parallel to that to which I have applied it.
No one questions whether military power be arbitrary. And what are
the customary feelings of mankind with respect to a subjection to arbi
trary power ? How do we feel and think, when we hear of a person
who is obliged to do whatever other men command, and who, the mo
ment he refuses, is punished for attempting to be free ? If a man orders
his servant to do a given action, he is at liberty, if he think the action
improper, or if, from any other cause, he choose not to do it, to refuse
his obedience, Far other is the nature of military subjection. The
soldier is compelled to obey, whatever be his inclination or his will. It
matters not whether he have entered the service voluntarily or involunta
rily. Being in it, he has but one alternative, — submission to arbitrary
power, or punishment — the punishment of death perhaps — for refusing
to submit. Let the reader imagine to himself any other cause or pur
pose for which freemen shall be subjected to such a condition, and he
will then see that condition in its proper light. The influence of habit
and the gloss of public opinion make situations that would otherwise be
loathsome and revolting, not only tolerable but pleasurable. Take away
this influence and this gloss from the situation of a soldier, and what
should we call it ? We should call it a state of degradation and of bond
age. But habit and public opinion, although they may influence notions,
cannot alter things. It is a state, intellectually, morally, and politically,
of bondage and degradation.
But the reader will say that this submission to arbitrary power is
necessary to the prosecution of war. I know it ; and that is the very
point for observation. It is because it is necessary to war that it is no
ticed here : for a brief but clear argument results : — That custom to
which such a state of mankind is necessary must inevitably be bad : —
it must inevitably be adverse to rectitude and to Christianity. So deplo
rable is the bondage which war produces, that we often hear, during a
war, of subsidies from one nation to another, for the loan, or rather for
the purchase, of an army. — To borrow ten thousand men, who know
nothing of our quarrel and care nothing for it, to help us to slaughter
their fellows ! To pay for their help in guineas to their sovereign !
Well has it been exclaimed,
War is a game that, were their subjects wise,
Kings would not play at.
A prince sells his subjects as a farmer sells his cattle; and sends them
to destroy a people, whom, if they had been higher bidders, he would
perhaps have sent them to defend. The historian has to record such
miserable facts, as that a potentate's troops were, during one war, "hired
to the King of Great Britain and his enemies alternately, as the scale of
convenience happened to preponderate !"* That a large number of per
sons, with the feelings and reason of men, should coolly listen to the bar-
* Smollett's England : v. iv. p. 330.
CHAP. 19.] EFFECTS ON THE COMMUNITY.
403
gain of their sale, should compute the guineas that will pay for their
blood, and should then quietly be led to a place where they are to kill
people towards whom they have no animosity, is simply wonderful ! To
what has inveteracy of habit reconciled mankind ! I have no capacity
of supposing a case of slavery, if slavery be denied in this. Men have
been sold in another continent, and philanthropy has been shocked and
aroused to interference ; yet these men were sold, not to be slaughtered
but to work : but of the purchases and sales of the world's political slave-
dealers, what does philanthropy think or care ? There is no reason to
doubt that upon other subjects of horror, similar familiarity of halm
would produce similar effects : or that he who heedlessly contemplates
the purchase of an army wants nothing but this familiarity to make him
heedlessly look on at the commission of parricide.
Yet I do not know whether, in its effects on the military character, the
greatest moral evil of war is to be sought. Upon the community its
effects are indeed less apparent, because they who are the secondary
subjects of the immoral influence are less intensely affected by it than
the immediate agents of its diffusion. But whatever is deficient in the
degree of evil is probably more than compensated by its extent. The
influence is like that of a continual and noxious vapour : we neither
regard nor perceive it, but it secretly undermines the moral health.
Every one knows that vice is contagious. The depravity of one man
has always a tendency to deprave his neighbours ; and it therefore re
quires no unusual acuteness to discover that the prodigious mass of im
morality and crime which are accumulated by a war must have a pow
erful effect in " demoralizing" the public. But there is one circumstance
connected with the injurious influence of war which makes it peculiarly
operative and malignant. It is, that we do not hate or fear the influence,
and do not fortify ourselves against it. Other vicious influences insinu
ate themselves into our minds by stealth ; but this we receive with open
embrace. Glory, and patriotism, and bravery, and conquest are bright
and glittering things. Who, when he is looking delighted upon these
things, is armed against the mischiefs which they veil I
i The evil is in its own nature of almost universal operation. During a
war, a whole people become familiarized with the utmost excesses of
enormity, — with the utmost intensity of human wickedness, — and they
rejoice and exult in them ; so that there is probably not an individual in
a hundred who does not lose something of his Christian principles by a
ten years' war.
i " It is in my mind," said Fox, " no small misfortune to live at a period
when scenes of horror and blood are frequent." — " One of the most evil
consequences of war is, that it tends to render the hearts of mankind
callous to the feelings and sentiments of humanity."*
Those who know what the moral law of God is, and who feel an in
terest in the virtue and the happiness of the world, will not regard the
animosity of party and the restlessness of resentment which are produced
by a war, as trifling evils. If any thing be opposite to Christianity, it is
retaliation and revenge. In the obligation to restrain these dispositions,
much of the characteristic placability of Christianity consists. The
very essence and spirit of our religion are abhorrent from resentment. —
The very essence and spirit of war are promotive of resentment ; and
* Fell's Life of C.J. Fox.
Cc 2
404 LAWFULNESS OF WAR. [ESSAY III.
what then must be their mutual adverseness ? That war excites these
passions needs not to be proved. When a war is in contemplation, or
when it has been begun, what are the endeavours of its promoters I They
animate us by every artifice of excitement to hatred and animosity.
Pamphlets, placards, newspapers, caricatures, — every agent is in requisi
tion to irritate us into malignity. Nay, dreadful as it is, the pulpit re
sounds with declamations to stimulate our too sluggish resentment, and
to invite us to slaughter. — And thus the most unchristian-like of all our
passions, the passion which it is most the object of our religion to repress,
is excited and fostered. Christianity cannot be flourishing under circum
stances like these. The more effectually we are animated to war, the
more nearly we extinguish the dispositions of our religion. War and
Christianity are like the opposite ends of a balance, of which one is
depressed by the elevation of the other.
These are the consequences which make war dreadful to a state
Slaughter and devastation are sufficiently terrible, but their collateral
evils are their greatest. It is the immoral feeling that war diffuses, — it is
the depravation of principle, which forms the mass of its mischief.
To attempt to pursue the consequences of war through all their rami-
tcations of evil were, however, both endless and vain. It is a moral
gangrene which diffuses its humours through the whole political and
social system. To expose its mischief is to exhibit all evil ; for there
is no evil which it does not occasion, and it has much that is peculiar to
itself.
That, together with its multiplied evils, war produces some good, I
have no wish to deny. I know that it sometimes elicits valuable qualities
which had otherwise been concealed, and that it often produces collateral
and adventitious, and sometimes immediate advantages. If all this could
be denied, it would be needless to deny it, for it is of no consequence to
the question whether it be proved. That any wide-extended system
should not produce some benefits can never happen. In such a system,
it were an unheard-of purity of evil which was evil without any mixture
of good. — But, to compare the ascertained advantages of war with its
ascertained mischiefs, and to maintain a question as to the preponderance
of the balance, implies, not ignorance, but disingenuousness, not incapa
city to decide, but a voluntary concealment of truth.
And why do we insist upon these consequences of war ? — Because the
review prepares the reader for a more accurate judgment respecting its
lawfulness. Because it reminds him what war is, and because, knowing
and remembering what it is, he will be the better able to compare it with
the standard of rectitude.
LAWFULNESS OF WAR.
I would recommend to him who would estimate the moral character of
War, to endeavour to forget that he has ever presented to his mind the
idea of a bat.tle, and to endeavour to contemplate it with those emotions
which it would excite in the mind of a being who had never before heard
of human slaughter. The prevailing emotions of such a being would be
astonishment and horror. If he were shocked by the horribleness of the
scene, he would be amazed at its absurdity. — That a large number of
CHAP. 19.] APPEALING TO ANTIQUITY— CLARENDON. 405
persons should assemble by agreement and deliberately kill one another,
appears to the understanding a proceeding so preposterous, so monstrous,
that I think a being such as I have supposed would inevitably conclude
that they were mad. Nor is it likely, if it were attempted to explain to
him some motives to such conduct, that lie would be able to comprehend
how any possible circumstances could make it reasonable. The ferocity
and prodigious folly of the act would in his estimation outbalance the
weight of every conceivable motive, and he would turn unsatisfied away,
" Astonished at the madness of mankind."
There is an advantage in making suppositions such as these : because,
when the mind has been familiarized to a practice, however monstrous
or inhuman, it loses some of its sagacity of moral perception: the prac
tice is perhaps veiled in glittering fictions, or the mind is become callous
to its enormities. But if the subject is, by some circumstance, presented
to the mind unconnected with any of its previous associations, we see it
with a new judgment and new feelings ; and wonder, perhaps, that we
have not felt so or thought so before. And such occasions it is the part
of a wise man to seek ; since, if they never happen to us, it will often
be difficult for us accurately to estimate the qualities of human actions,
or to determine whether we approve them from a decision of our judg
ment, or whether we yield to them only the acquiescence of habit.
It may properly be a subject of wonder, that the arguments which are
brought to justify a custom such as war receive so little investigation. It
must be a studious ingenuity of mischief which could devise a practice
more calamitous or horrible ; and yet it is a practice of which it rarely
occurs to us to inquire into the necessity, or to ask whether it cannot
be, or ought not to be, avoided. In one truth, however, all will acquiesce,
— that the arguments in favour of such a practice should be unanswerably
strong.
Let it not be said that the experience and the practice of other ages
have superseded the necessity of inquiry in our own ; that there can be
no reason to question the lawfulness of that which has been sanctioned
by forty centuries ; or that he who presumes to question it is amusing
himself with schemes of visionary philanthropy. " There is not, it
may be," says Lord Clarendon, " a greater obstruction to the investiga
tion of truth, or the improvement of knowledge, than the too frequent
appeal, and the too supine resignation of our understanding, to antiquity."*
Whosoever proposes an alteration of existing institutions will meet, from
some men, with a sort of instinctive opposition, which appears to be
influenced by no process of reasoning, by no considerations of propriety
or principles of rectitude, which defends the existing system because it
exists, and which would have equally defended its opposite if that had
been the oldest. " Nor is it out of modesty that we have this resigna
tion, or that we do, in truth, think those who have gone before us to be
wiser than ourselves : we are as proud and as peevish as any of our
progenitors : but it is out of laziness ; we will rather take their words,
than take the pains to examine the reason they governed themselves
by."t To those who urge objections from the authority of ages, it
indeed a sufficient answer to say that they apply to every long-continued
custom. Slave-dealers urged them against the friends of the abolition ;
papists urged them against Wicklifle and Luther ; and the Athenians
* Lord Clarendon's Essays t Ibid.
406 BECCARIA— ERASMUS— WATSON— KNOX. [ESSAY III.
probably thought it a good objection to an apostle, that "he seemed to
be a setter forth of strange gods."
It. is some satisfaction to be able to give, on a question of this nature,
the testimony of some great minds against the lawfulness of war,
opposed, as these testimonies are, to the general prejudice and the gen
eral practice of the world. It has been observed by Beccaria, that " it
is the fate of great truths to glow only like a flash of lightning amid the
dark clouds in which error has enveloped the universe ;" and if our testi
monies are few or transient, it matters not, so that their light be the light
of truth. There are, indeed, many who, in describing the horrible par
ticulars of a siege or a battle, indulge in some declamation on the horrors
of war, such as has been often repeated, arid often applauded, and as
often forgotten. But such declamations are of little value and of little
effect ; he who reads the next paragraph finds, probably, that he is invited
to follow the path to glory and to victory ; to share the hero's danger and
partake the hero's praise ; and he soon discovers that the moralizing parts
of his author are the impulse of feelings rather than of principles, and
thinks that though it may be very well to write, yet it is better to forget
them.
There are, however, testimonies, delivered in the calm of reflection,
by acute and enlightened men, which may reasonably be allowed at least
so much weight as to free the present inquiry from the charge of being
wild or visionary. Christianity indeed needs no such auxiliaries ; but
if they induce an examination of her duties, a wise man will not wish
them to be disregarded.
" They who defend war," says Erasmus, " must defend the disposi
tions which lead to war ; and these dispositions are absolutely forbidden by
the gospel. — Since the time that Jesus Christ said, Put up thy sword into
its scabbard, Christians ought not to go to war. — Christ suffered Peter
to fall into an error in this matter, on purpose that, when He had put up
Peter's sword, it might remain no longer a doubt that war was prohibited,
which, before that order, had been considered as allowable." — " Wick-
liffe seems to have thought it was wrong to take away the life of man
on any account, and that war was utterly unlawful."* — " I am persuaded,"
says the Bishop of Landaff, " that when the spirit of Christianity shall exert
its proper influence^ war will cease throughout the whole Christian world"}
" War," says the same acute prelate, " has practices and principles pecu
liar to itself, "which but ill quadrate with the rule of moral rectitude,
and are quite abhorrent from the benignity of Christianity."! A living
writer of eminence bears this remarkable testimony : — " There is but
one community of Christians in the world, and that unhappily of all com
munities one of the smallest, enlightened enough to understand the 'pro
hibition of war by our Divine Master, in its plain, literal, and undeniable
sense : and conscientious enough to obey it, subduing the very instinct
of nature to obedience/ "§
Dr. Vicessimus Knox speaks in language equally specific : — " Moral
ity and religion forbid war, in its motives, conduct, and consequences."f[
Those who have attended to the mode in which the moral law is insti
tuted in the expressions of the Will of God, will have no difficulty in
supposing that it contains no specif c prohibition of war. Accordingly
* Pnestley. t Life of Bishop Walson. $Ibid. $ Southey's History of Brazil.
|| Essays — ThePaterines or Gazari of Italy in the llth, 12th, and 13th centuries, "held
that it was not lawful to bear arms or to kill mankind."
CHAP. 1.9.] THE CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES. 407
if we be asked for such a prohibition, in the manner in which Thou shah
not kill is directed to murder, we willingly answer that no such prohi
bition exists ; and it is not necessary to the argument. Even those who
would require such a prohibition are themselves satisfied respecting the
obligation of many negative duties on which there has been no specific
decision in the New Testament. They believe that suicide is not law
ful : yet Christianity never forbade it. It can be shown, indeed, by impli
cation and inference, that suicide could not have been allowed, and with
this they are satisfied. Yet there is, probably, in the Christian Scrip
tures not a twentieth part of as much indirect evidence against the law
fulness of suicide, as there is against the lawfulness of war. To those
who require such a command as Thou shalt not engage in war, it is there
fore sufficient to reply, that they require that which, upon this and upon
many other subjects, Christianity has not seen fit to give.
We have had many occasions to illustrate, in the course of these dis
quisitions, the characteristic nature of the moral law as a law of benevo
lence. This benevolence, this good-will and kind affections towards one
another, is placed at the basis of practical morality, — it is " the fulfilling
of the law," — it is the test of the validity of our pretensions to the Chris
tian character. We have had occasion too to observe, that this law of
benevolence is universally applicable to public affairs as well as to pri
vate, to the intercourse of nations as well as of men. Let us refer then
to some of those requisitions of this law which appear peculiarly to
respect the question of the moral character of war.
" Have peace one with another." — " By this shall all men know that
ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another."
" Walk with all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbear
ing one another in love."
"Be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another; lore as
brethren, be pitiful, be courteous : not rendering evil for evil, or railing
for railing."
** Be at peace among yourselves." " See that none render evil for
evil unto any man." — " God hath called us to peace."
" Follow after love, patience, meekness." — " Be gentle, showing all
meekness unto all men." — " Live in peace."
*' Lay aside all malice." — " Put off anger, wrath, malice." — " Let all
bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking be put
away from you, with all malice."
" Avenge not yourselves." — " If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he
thirst, give him drink." — "Recompense to no man evil for evil."-
*' Overcome evil with good."
Now we ask of any man who looks over these passages, What evi
dence do they convey respecting the lawfulness of war ? Could any
approval or allowance of it have been subjoined to these instructions,
without obvious and most gross inconsistency ? — But if war is obviously
and most grossly inconsistent with the general character of Christianity ;
if war could not have been permitted by its teachers without an egregious
violation of their own precepts, we think that the evidence of its unlaw
fulness, arising from this general character alone, is as clear, as absolute,
and as exclusive as could have been contained in any form of prohibi
tion whatever.
But it is not from general principles alone that the law of Christianity
.especting war may be deduced. — "Ye have heard that it hath been said,
408 THE CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES. [ESSAY III.
An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth : but 7 say unto you, that ye
resist not evil : but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn
to him the other also." — " Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou
shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy : but / say unto you,
Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate
you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you ;
for if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye ?"*
Of the precepts from the Mount the most obvious characteristic is
greater moral excellence and superior purity. They are directed, not
so immediately to the external regulation of the conduct, as to the
restraint and purification of the affections. In another precept it is not
enough that an unlawful passion be just so far restrained as to produce
no open immorality, — the passion itself is forbidden. The tendency of
the discourse is to attach guilt, not to action only, but also to thought. It
has been said, " Thou shalt not kill ; and whosoever shall kill shall be
in danger of the judgment ; but I say unto you, that whosoever is angry
with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment."!
Our Lawgiver attaches guilt to some of the violent feelings, such as
resentment, hatred, revenge ; and by doing this, we contend that he
attaches guilt to war. War cannot be carried on without those passions
which he prohibits. Our argument therefore is syllogistical : — War
cannot be allowed if that which is necessary to war is prohibited. This
indeed is precisely the argument of Erasmus : — " They who defend war
must defend the dispositions which lead to war; and these dispositions are
absolutely forbidden"
Whatever might have been allowed under the Mosaic institution as to
retaliation or resentment, Christianity says, " If ye love them only which
love you, what reward have ye 1 — Love your enemies" Now what sort
of love does that man bear towards his enemy who runs him through with
a bayonet? We repeat, that the distinguishing duties of Christianity
must be sacrificed when war is carried on. The question is between
the abandonment of these duties and the abandonment of war, for both
cannot be retained. J
It is however objected, that the prohibitions " Resist not evil," &c.
are figurative ; and that they do not mean that no injury is to be punished,
and no outrage to be repelled. It has been asked, with complacent
exultation, What would these advocates of peace say to him who struck
them on the right cheek ? Would they turn to him the other ? What
would these patient moralists say to him who robbed them of a coat?
Would they give a cloak also ? What would these philanthropists say
to him who asked them to lend a hundred pounds ? Would they not turn
away ? This is argumentum ad hominem : one example among the
many of that low and dishonest mode of intellectual warfare which con
sists in exciting the feelings instead of convincing the understanding.
It is, however, some satisfaction that the motive to the adoption of this
mode of warfare is itself an indication of a bad cause ; for what honest
reasoner would produce only a laugh, if he were able to produce con
viction ?
* Matt. v. 38, «Scc. t Matt. v. 21, 22.
t Yet the retention of both has been.imhappily enough, attempted. In a late publication,
of which a partis devoted to the defence of war, the author gravely recommends soldiers,
while shooting and stabbing their enemies, to maintain towards them a feeling of " good
will !" — Tracts and Essays by the late William Hey, Esq., F.R. S. And Gisborne, in his Duties
of Men, holds similar language. He advises the soldier, " never to forget the common ties
of human nature by which he is inseparably united to his enemy !"
CHAP. 19.] SUBJECTS OF CHRIST'S BENEDICTION. 409
We willingly grant that not all the precepts from the Mount were
designed to be literally obeyed in the intercourse of life. But what then?
To show that their meaning is not literal, is not to show that they do not
forbid war. We ask, in our turn, What is the meaning of the precepts ?
What is the meaning of " Resist not evil ?" Does it mean to allow
bombardment, — devastation, — slaughter? If it does not mean to allow
all this, it does not mean to allow war. What again do the objectors say
is the meaning of " Love your enemies ;" or of " Do good to them that
hate you?" Does it mean "ruin their commerce," — "sink their fleets,"
— " plunder their cities," — "shoot through their hearts?" If the precept
does not mean to allow all this, it does not mean to allow war. It is
therefore not at all necessary here to discuss the precise signification of
some of the precepts from the Mount, or to define what limits Christianity
may admit in their application, since, whatever exceptions she may allow,
it is manifest what she does not allow :* for if we give to our objectors
whatever license of interpretation they may desire, they cannot, without
virtually rejecting the precepts, so interpret them as to make them
allow war.
Of the injunctions that are contrasted with " eye for eye, and tooth
for tooth," the entire scope and purpose is the suppression of the violent
passions, and the inculcation of forbearance, and forgiveness, and benevo
lence, and love. They forbid, not specifically the act, but the spirit of
war ; and this method of prohibition Christ ordinarily employed. He
did not often condemn the individual doctrines or customs of the age,
however false or however vicious ; but he condemned the passions by
which only vice could exist, and inculcated the truth which dismissed
every error. And this method was undoubtedly wise. In the gradual
alterations of human wickedness, many new species of profligacy might
arise which the world had not yet practised : in the gradual vicissitudes
of human error, many new fallacies might obtain which the world had
not yet held : and how were these errors and these crimes to be opposed,
but by the inculcation of principles that were applicable to every crime
and to every error ? — principles which define not always what is wrong,
but which tell us what always is right.
There are two modes of censure or condemnation ; the one is to
reprobate evil, and the other to enforce the opposite good; and both
these modes were adopted by Christ. — He not only censured the passions
that are necessary to war, but inculcated the affections which are most
opposed to them. The conduct and dispositions upon which he pro
nounced his solemn benediction are exceedingly remarkable. They are
these, and in this order : Poverty of spirit ;— mourning ;— meekness ;—
desire of righteousness ; — mercy ; — purity of heart ; — peace-making ; —
sufferance of persecution. Now let the reader try whether he can pro
pose eight other qualities, to be retained as the general habit of the mind,
which shall be more incongruous with war.
Of these benedictions, I think the most emphatical is that pronounced
upon the peace-makers. " Blessed are the peace-makers : for they shall
* It is manifest, from the New Testament, that we are not required to give " a cloak," in
every case, to him who robs us of "a coat ;" but I think it is equally manifest that WP a
required to give it not the less because he has robbed us : the circumstance of 1
robbed us does not entail an obligation to give ; but it also does not impart a permit
withhold. If the necessities of the plunderer require relief, it is the business o
to relieve them.
410 MATT. XXVI. 52. [ESSAY III.
be called the children of God."* Higher praise, or a higher title, no man
can receive. Now I do not say that these benedictions contain an abso
lute proof that Christ prohibited war, but I say they make it clear that
he did not approve it. He selected a number of subjects for his solemn
approbation ; and not one of them possesses any congruity with war, and
some of them cannot possibly exist in conjunction with it. Can any one
believe that he who made this selection, and who distinguished the peace
makers with peculiar approbation, could have sanctioned his followers in
destroying one another? Or does anyone believe, that those who were
mourners, and meek, and merciful, and peace-making, could at the same
time perpetrate such destruction ? If I be told that a temporary suspen
sion of Christian dispositions, although necessary to the prosecution of
war, does not imply the extinction of Christian principles , or that these
dispositions may be the general habit of the mind, and may botli precede
and follow the acts of war, I answer that this is to grant all that I
require, since it grants that when we engage in war we abandon
Christianity.
When the betrayers and murderers of Jesus Christ approached him,
his followers asked, '* Shall we smite with the sword ?" and without
waiting for an answer, one of them drew "his sword, and smote the
servant of the high-priest, and cut off his right ear." — " Put up again thy
sword into his place," said his Divine Master : " for all they that take
the sword shall perish with the sword."j There is the greater import
ance in the circumstances of this command, because it prohibited the
destruction of human life in a cause in which there were the best of
possible reasons for destroying it. The question " Shall we smite with
the sword," obviously refers to the defence of the Redeemer from his
assailants by force of arms. His followers were ready to fight for him;
and if any reason for fighting could be a good one, they certainly had it.
But if, in defence of -himself from the hands of bloody ruffians, his
religion did not allow the sword to be drawn, for what reason can it be
lawful to draw it ? The advocates of war are at least bound to show a
better reason for destroying mankind than is contained in this instance
in which it is forbidden.
It will, perhaps, be said, that the reason why Christ did not suffer
himself to be defended by arms was, that such a defence would have
defeated the purpose for which he came into the world, namely, to offer
up his life ; and that he himself assigns this reason in the context. — He
does indeed assign it ; but the primary reason, the immediate context is,
— " for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword." The
reference to the destined sacrifice of his life is an after-reference. This
destined sacrifice might, perhaps, have formed a reason why his fol
lowers should not fight then; but the first, the principal reason which he
assigned, was a reason why they should not fight at all. — Nor is it neces
sary to define the precise import of the words, " for all they that take
the sword shall perish with the sword :" since it is sufficient for us all
that they imply reprobation.
It is with the apostles as with Christ himself. The incessant object
of their discourses and writings is the inculcation of peace, of mildness,
of placability. It might be supposed that they continually retained in
prospect the reward which would attach to " peace-makers." We ask
* Matt. v. 9. f Matt. xxvi. 52.
CHAP. 19.] WRITINGS OF THE APOSTLES. 411
the advocate of war, whether he discovers in the writings of the apostles
or of the evangelists, any thing that indicates they approved of war. Do
the tenor and spirit of their writings bear any congruity with it ? Are
not their spirit and tenor entirely discordant with it? We are entitled
to renew the observation, that the pacific nature of the apostolic
writings proves, presumptively, that the writers disallowed war. That
could not be allowed by them as sanctioned by Christianity which
outraged all the principles that they inculcated.
** Whence come wars and fightings among you ?" is the interrogation
of one of the apostles, to some whom he was reproving for their unchristian
conduct : and he answers himself, by asking them, " Come they not
hence, even of your lusts that war in your members?*'* This accords
precisely with the argument that we urge. Christ forbade the passions
which lead to war ; and now, when these passions had broken out into
actual fighting, his apostle, in condemning war, refers it back to their
passions. We have been saying that the passions are condemned, and
therefore war ; and now, again, the apostle James thinks, like his Master,
that the most effectual way of eradicating war is to eradicate the pas
sions which produce it.
In the following quotation we are told, not only what the arms of the
apostles were not, but what they were. " The weapons of our warfare
are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong
holds ; and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of
Christ ."f I quote this, not only because it assures us that the apostles
had nothing to do with military weapons, but because it tells us the ob
ject of their warfare, — the bringing every thought to the obedience of
Christ : and this object I would beg the reader to notice, because it
accords with the object of Christ himself in his precepts from the Mount,
— the reduction of the thoughts to obedience. The apostle doubtless
knew that if he could effect this, there was little reason to fear that his
converts would slaughter one another. He followed the example of his
Master. He attacked wickedness in its root ; and inculcated those gen
eral principles of purity and forbearance which, in their prevalence,
would abolish war, as they .would abolish all other crimes. The teachers
of Christianity addressed themselves, not to communities, but to men.
They enforced the regulation of the passions and the rectification of the
heart ; and it was probably clear to the perceptions of apostles, although it
is not clear to some species of philosophy, that whatever duties were bind
ing upon one man were binding upon ten, upon a hundred, and upon the state.
War is not often directly noticed in the writings of the apostles.
When it is noticed, it is condemned, just in that way in which we should
suppose any thing would be condemned that was notoriously opposed to
the whole system,— just as murder is condemned at the present day.
Who can find, in modern books, that murder is formally censured?
may find censures of its motives, of its circumstances, of n
atrocity ; but the act itself no one thinks of censuring, because every on
knows that it is wicked. Setting statutes aside, I doubt whether, li
Otaheitan should choose to argue that Christians allow murder because
he cannot find it formally prohibited in their writings, we should not
at a loss to find direct evidence against him. And it arises, perhaps
from the same causes, that a formal prohibition of war is not to be fow
in the writings of the apostles. I do not believe they imagin
* James ivi. * a Cor * *
412 WRITINGS OF THE APOSTLES. [ESSAY III.
Christianity would ever be charged with allowing it. They write, as if
the idea of such a charge never occurred to them. They did, never
theless, virtually forbid it; unless anyone shall say that they disallowed
the passions which occasion war, but did not disallow war itself; that
Christianity prohibits the cause but permits the effect ; which is much
the same as to .say, that a law which forbade the administering arsenic
did not forbid poisoning.
But although the general tenor of Christianity and some of its particu
lar precepts appear distinctly to condemn and disallow war, it is certain
that different conclusions have been formed ; and many, who are un
doubtedly desirous of performing the duties of Christianity have failed
to perceive that war is unlawful to them.
In examining the arguments by which war is defended, two important
considerations should be borne in mind — first, that those who urge them
are not simply defending war, they are also defending themselves. If
war be wrong, their conduct is wrong ; and the desire of self-justifica
tion prompts them to give importance to whatever arguments they can
advance in its favour. Their decisions may, therefore, with reason, be
regarded as in some degree the decisions of a party in the cause. The
other consideration is, that the defenders of war come to the discussion
prepossessed in its favour. They are attached to it by their earliest
habits. They do not examine the question as a philosopher would ex
amine it, to whom the subject was new. Their opinions had been
already formed. They are discussing a question which they had already
determined : and every man, who is acquainted with the effects of evi
dence on the mind knows that under these circumstances, a very slen
der argument in favour of the previous opinions, possesses more influ
ence than many great ones against it. Now all this cannot be predi
cated of the advocates of peace ; they are opposing the influence of
habit ; they are contending against the general prejudice ; they are, per
haps, dismissing their own previous opinions ; and I would submit it to
the candour of the reader, that these circumstances ought to attach, in
his mind, suspicion to the validity of the arguments against us.
The narrative of the centurion who came to Jesus at Capernaum to
solicit him to heal his servant furnishes one of these arguments. It is
said that Christ found no fault with the centurion's profession ; that if
he had disallowed the military character, he would have taken this op
portunity of censuring it ; and that, instead of such censure, he highly
commended the officer, and said of him, " I have not found so great
faith, no, not in Israel."*
An obvious weakness in this argument is this ; that it is founded, not upon
an approval, but upon silence. Approbation is indeed expressed, but it is
directed not to his arms, but to his " faith ;" and those who will read the
narrative will find that no occasion was given for noticing his profession.
He came to Christ, not as a military officer, but simply as a deserving man.
A censure of his profession might, undoubtedly, have been pronounced,
but it would have been a gratuitous censure, a censure that did not nat
urally arise out of the case. The objection is, in its greatest weight;
presumptive only ; for none can be supposed to countenance every thing
that he does not condemn. To observe silence^ in such cases, was
* Matthew viii. 10
t " Christianity, soliciting admission into all nations of the world, abstained, as behooved
it, from intermeddling with the civil institutions of any. But does it follow, from the silence
of Scripture concerning them, that all the civil institutions which then prevailed were
right, or that the bad should not be exchanged for better ?" — Palfy
CHI?. 19.J THE CENTURION CORNELIUS— TAXES. 413
indeed the ordinary practice of Christ. He very seldom -interfered with
the civil or political institutions of the world. In these institutions there
was sufficient wickedness around him, but some of them, flagitious as
they were, he never, on any occasion, even noticed. His mode of con
demning and extirpating political vices was by the inculcation of general
rules of purity, which, in their eventual and universal application, would
reform them all.
But how happens it that Christ did not notice the centurion's religion?
He was surely an idolater. And is there not as good reason for main
taining that Christ approved idolatry because he did not condemn
it, as that he approved war because he did not condemn it ? Reason
ing from analogy, we should conclude that idolatry was likely to
have been noticed rather than war : and it is therefore peculiarly and
singularly unapt to bring forward the silence respecting war, as an evi
dence of its lawfulness.
A similar argument is advanced from the case of Cornelius, to whom
Peter was sent from Joppa ; of which it is said, that although the gos
pel was imparted to Cornelius by the especial direction of Heaven, yet
we do not find that he therefore quitted his profession, or that it was
considered inconsistent with his new character. The objection applies
to this argument as to the last, that it is built upon silence, that it is sim
ply negative. We do not find that he quitted the service :— I might
answer, Neither do we find that he continued in it. We only know
nothing of the matter : and the evidence is therefore so much less than
proof, as silence is less than approbation. Yet, that the account is
silent respecting any disapprobation of war might have been a reason
able ground of argument under different circumstances. It might have
been a reasonable ground of argument, if the primary object of Chris
tianity had been the reformation of political institutions, or, perhaps, even
if her primary object had been the regulation of the external conduct ;
but her primary object was neither of these. She directed herself to the
reformation of the heart, knowing that all other reformation would fol
low She embraced indeed both morality and policy, and has reformed,
or will reform, both— not so much immediately as consequently; notiO
much by filtering the current, as by purifying the spring,
of Peter, therefore, in the case of Cornelius, will serve the cause <
war but little ; that little is diminished when urged against the posi
evidence of commands anil prohibitions, and it is reduced to nothingness,
when it opposed to the universal tendency and object of the revelation.
It has sometimes been urged that Christ paid taxes to the Roman gov
ernment at a time when it was engaged in war, and when, therefore, th
money that he paid would be employed in its prosecution,
shall readily grant; but it appears to be forgotten by our opponents th
if this proves war to be lawful, they are proving too much,
taxes were thrown into the exchequer of the state, and a part of the
money was applied to purposes of a most iniquitous and shocking na-
TefsLetimes, probably, to the gratification of the emperor s persona
vices and to his gladiatorial exhibitions, &c. and certainly to the support
oTa miserable idolatry. If, therefore, the payment of taxes to such a
government proves an approbation of war, it proves an approbation of
manToAer enormities. Moreover, the argument goes too far m rela-
Uoneventowar; for it must necessarily make Christ approve of all
Roman wars, without distinction of their justice or mjustice,-of the
414 LUKE XXII. 36. [ESSAY III.
most ambitious the most atrocious, and the most aggressive : and these
even our objectors will not defend. The payment of tribute by our
Lord was accordant with his usual system of avoiding to interfere in
the civil or political institutions of the world.
" He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one."*-
This is another passage that is brought against us. — " For what purpose,"
it is asked, "were they to buy swords, if swords might not be used?"
It may be doubted, whether with some of those who advance this objection,
it is not an objection of words rather than of opinion. It may be doubted
whether they themselves think there is any weight in it. To those,
however, who may be influenced by it, I would observe, that, as it ap
pears to me, a sufficient answer to the objection may be found in the
immediate context : — " Lord, behold, here are two swords," sakl they ;
and he immediately answered, " It is enough." How could two be
enough when eleven were to be supplied with them ? That swords, in
the sense, and for the purpose of military weapons, were even intended
in this passage, there appears much reason for doubting. This reason
will be discovered by examining and connecting such expressions as
these : " The Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives,, but to save
them," said our Lord. Yet, on another occasion, he says, " I came not
to send peace on earth, but a sword." How are we to explain the mean
ing of the latter declaration ? Obviously, by understanding " sword" to
mean something far other than steel. There appears little reason for
supposing that physical weapons were intended in the instruction of
Christ. I believe they were not intended, partly because no one can im
agine his apostles were in the habit of using such arms, partly because
they declared that the weapons of their warfare were not carnal, and
partly because the word " sword11 is often used to imply " dissension," or
the religious warfare of the Christian. Such a use of language is
found in the last quotation ; and it is found also in such expressions as
these : " skidd of faith," — " helmet of salvation," — " sword of the spirit,"
— "I have fought the goodfght of faith."
But it will be said that the apostles did provide themselves with swords,
for that on the same evening they asked, " Shall we smite with the
sword ?" This is true, and it may probably be true also that some of
them provided themselves with swords in consequence of the injunction of
their Master. But what then ? It appears to me that the apostles acted
on this occasion upon the principles on which they had wished to act on
another, when they asked, " Wilt thou that we command fire to come
down from heaven, and consume them ?" And that their Master's prin
ciples of action were also the same in both. — "Ye know not what man
ner of spirit ye are of ; for the Son of Man is not come to destroy men's
lives, but to save them." This is the language of Christianity ; and I
would seriously invite him who now justifies " destroying men's lives,"
to consider what manner of spirit he is of.
I think, then, that no argument arising from the instruction to buy
* Luke xxii. 36. Upon the interpretation of this passage of Scripture, I would subjoin
the sentiments of two or three authors. Bishop Pearce says, " It is plain that Jesus never
intended to make any resistance, or suffer a sword to he used on this occasion." And
Campbell says, " We are sure that he did not intend to be understood literally, but as Speak
ing of the weapons of their spiritual warfare." And Beza: " — This whole speech is alle
gorical : My fellow-soldiers, you have hitherto lived in peace, but now a dreadful war is at
hand ; so that, omitting all other things, you must think only of arms. But when he prayed
in the garden, and reproved Peter for smiting with the sword, he himself showed what these
arms were." — See Peace and War an Essay. Hatchard, 1824.
CHAP. 19.] JOHN THE BAPTIST— GROTIUS-MILTOIi 415
swords can be maintained. This, at least, we know, that when the
apostles were completely commissioned, they neither used nor possessed
them. An extraordinary imagination he must have, who conceives of an
apostle, preaching peace and reconciliation, crying "forgive injuries,"
" love your enemies," — «• render not evil for evil ;" and at the conclusion
of the discourse, if he chanced to meet violence or insult, promptly
drawing his sword and maiming or murdering the offender. We insist
upon this consideration. If swords were to be worn, swords were to be
used ; and there is no rational way in which they could have been used,
but some such as that which we have been supposing. If, therefore, the'
words "He that hath no sword let him sell his garment, and buy one," do
not mean to authorize such a use of the sword, they do not mean to au
thorize its use at all : and those who adduce the passage must allow its
application in such a sense, or they must exclude it from any applica
tion to their purpose.
It has been said, again, that when soldiers came to John the Baptist
to inquire of him what they should do, he did not direct them to leave
the service, but to be content with their wages. This, also, is at best
but a negative evidence. It does not prove that the military profession
was wrong, and it certainly does not prove that it was right. But, in
truth, if it asserted the latter, Christians have, as I conceTve, nothing to
do with it : for I think that we need not inquire what John allowed, or
what he forbade. He confessedly belonged to that system which required
*' an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth :" and the observations which
we shall by-and-by make on the authority of the law of Moses apply,
therefore, to that of John the Baptist. Although it could be proved
(which it cannot be) that he allowed wars, he acted not inconsistently
with his own dispensation ; and with that dispensation we have no busi
ness. Yet, if any one still insists upon the authority of John, I would
refer him for an answer to Jesus Christ himself. What authority He
attached to John on questions relating to His own dispensation may be
learned from this, — " The least in the kingdom of heaven is greater
than he."
It is perhaps no trifling indication of the difficulty which writers have
found in discovering in the Christian Scriptures arguments in support of
war, that they have had recourse to such equivocal and far-fetched argu
ments. Grotius adduces a passage which he says is " a leading point of
evidence to show that the right of war is not taken away by the law of
the gospel." And what is this leading evidence ? That Paul, in writing
to Timothy, exhorts that prayer should be made for "kings!"' —Another
evidence which this great man adduces is, that Paul suffered himself to
be protected on his journey by a guard of soldiers, without hinting any
disapprobation of repelling force by force. But how does Grotius know
that Paul did not hint this ? And who can imagine that to suffer himself
to be guarded by a military escort, in the appointment of which he had
no control, was to approve war ?
But perhaps the real absence of sound Christian arguments in favour
of war is in no circumstance so remarkably intimated as in the citations
of Milton in his Christian Doctrine. " With regard to the duties of war,"
he quotes or refers to thirty-nine passages of Scripture,— thirty-eight
of which are from the Hebrew Scriptures : and what is the individual
* See Rights of War and Peace.
410 PROPHECIES OF THE OLD TESTAMENT. [ESSAY III.
one from the Christian ? — " What king going to war with another king,"
&c. !*
Such are the arguments which are adduced from the Christian Scrip
tures by the advocates of war. In these five passages, the principal of
the New Testament evidences in its favour unquestionably consist : they
are the passages which men of acute minds, studiously seeking for evi
dence, have selected* And what are they ? Their evidence is in the
majority of instances negative at best. A "NOT" intervenes. The cen
turion was not found fault with : Cornelius was not told to leave the
profession : John did not tell the soldiers to abandon the army : Paul
did not refuse a military guard. I cannot forbear to solicit the reader to
compare these objections with the pacific evidence of the gospel which
has been laid before him ; I would rather say, to compare it with the
gospel itself; for the sum, the tendency, of the whole revelation is in our
favour.
In an inquiry whether Christianity allows of war, there is a subject
that always appears to me to be of peculiar importance, — the prophecies
of the Old Testament respecting the arrival of a period of universal
peace. The belief is perhaps general among Christians, that a time
will come when vice shall be eradicated from the world, when the vio
lent passions of mankind shall be repressed, and when the pure benig
nity of Christianity shall be universally diffused. That such a period
will come we indeed know assuredly, for God has promised it.
Of the many prophecies of the Old Testament respecting this period,
we refer only to a few from the writings of Isaiah. In his predictions
respecting the " last times," by which it is not disputed that he referred
to the prevalence of the Christian religion, the prophet says, — " They
shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-
hooks : nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they
learn war any more."t Again, referring to the same period, he says, —
" They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain : for the earth
shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea."£
And again, respecting the same era, — "Violence shall no more be heard
in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders. "§
Two things are to be observed in relation to these prophecies : first,
that it is the will of God that war should eventually be abolished. This
consideration is of importance, for if war be not accordant with His will,
war cannot be accordant with Christianity, which is the revelation of
His will. Our business, however, is principally with the second con
sideration, — that Christianity will be the means of introducing this period
of peace. From those who say that our religion sanctions war an answer
must be expected to questions such as these : — By what instrumentality,
and by the diffusion of what principles, will the prophecies of Isaiah be
fulfilled? Are we to expect some new system of religion, by which the
imperfections of Christianity shall be removed and its deficiencies sup
plied ? Are we to believe that God sent his only Son into the world to
institute a religion such as this, — a religion that, in a few centuries, would
require to be altered and amended ? If Christianity allows of war, they
must tell us what it is that is to extirpate war. If she allows "violence,
and wasting, and destruction," they must tell us what are the principles
that are to produce gentleness, and benevolence, and forbearance. — I
* Luke xiv. 31. •} Isaiah ii. 4. J Id. xi. 9. $ Id. Ix. 18.
CHAP. 19.] EXAMPLE OF THE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANS. 417
know not what answer such inquiries will receive from the advocate of
war, but I know that Isaiah says the change will be effected by Chris
tianity : and if any one still chooses to expect another and a purer sys
tem, an apostle may perhaps repress his hopes: — "Though we or an
angel from heaven," says Paul, " preach any other gospel unto you, than
that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed."*
Whatever the principles of Christianity will require hereafter they
require now. Christianity, with its present principles and obligations, is
to produce universal peace. It becomes, therefore, an absurdity, a sim
ple contradiction, to maintain that the principles of Christianity allow of
war, when they, and they only, are to eradicate it. If we have no other
guarantee of peace than the existence of our religion, and no other hope
of peace than in its diffusion, how can that religion sanction war ?
The case is clear. A more perfect obedience to that same gospel,
which we are told sanctions slaughter, will be the means, and the only
means, of exterminating slaughter from the world. It is not from an
alteration of Christianity, but from an assimilation of Christians to its
nature, that we are to hope. It is because we violate the principles of
our religion, because we are not what they require us to be, that wars are
continued. If we will not be peaceable, let us then, at least, be honest,
and acknowledge that we continue to slaughter one another, not because
Christianity permits it, but because we reject her laws.
The opinions of the earliest professors of Christianity upon the law
fulness of war are of importance, because they who lived nearest to the
time of its Founder were the most likely to be informed of his inten
tions and his will, and to practise them without those adulterations which
we know have been introduced by the lapse of ages.
During a considerable period after the death of Christ, it is certain,
then, that his followers believed he had forbidden war; and that, incon
sequence of this belief, many of them refused to engage in it whatever
were the consequence, whether reproach, or imprisonment, or death
These facts are indisputable : " It is as easie," says a learned writer of
the seventeenth century, ** to obscure the sun at mid-day, as to deny that
the primitive Christians renounced all revenge and war." Christ and
his apostles delivered general precepts for the regulation of our conduct.
It was necessary for their successors to apply them to their practice in
life. And to what did they apply the pacific precepts which had been
delivered ? They applied them to war : they were assured that the pre
cepts absolutely forbade it. This belief they derived from those very
precepts on which we have insisted: they referred expressly to the
same passages in the New Testament, and from the authority and obliga
tion of those passages, they refused to bear arms. A few examples from
their "history will show with what undoubting confidence they believed
in the unlawfulness of war, and how much they were willing to suffer in
the cause of peace.
Maximilian, as it is related in the Acts of Ruinart, was brough
the tribunal to be enrolled as a soldier. On the proconsul's asking his
name, Maximilian replied, « I am a Christian, and cannot fight."
however ordered that he should be enrolled, but he refused to s
still alleging that he was a Christian. He was immediately told that there
was no alternative between bearing arms and being put to death
his fidelity was not to be shaken :— " I cannot fight," said he, «
* Galatians i. 8.
18 »d
418 EARLY CHRISTIANS. [ESSAY III.
He continued steadfast to his principles, and was consigned to the exe
cutioner.
The primitive Christians not only refused to be enlisted in the army,
but when they embraced Christianity while already enlisted, they aban
doned the profession at whatever cost. Marcellus was a centurion in
the legion called Trajana. While holding this commission he became a
Christian ; and believing, in common with his fellow Christians, that war
was no longer permitted to him, he threw down his belt at the head of
the legion, declaring that he had become a Christian, and that he would
serve no longer. He was committed to prison ; but he was still faithful
to Christianity. " It is not lawful," said he, " for a Christian to bear
arms for any earthly consideration ;" and he was in consequence put to
death. Almost immediately afterward, Cassian, who was notary to the
same legion, gave up his office. He steadfastly maintained the senti
ments of Marcellus, and like him was consigned to the executioner.
Martin, of whom so much is said by Sulpicius Severus, was bred to the
profession of arms, which, on his acceptance of Christianity, he aban
doned. To Julian the Apostate, the only reason that we find he gave
for his conduct was this : — " I am a Christian, and therefore I cannot
fight."
These were not the sentiments, and this was not the conduct, of insu
lated individuals who might be actuated by individual opinion, or by their
private interpretations of the duties of Christianity. Their principles
were the principles of the body. They were recognised and defended
by the Christian writers their contemporaries. Justin Martyr and Tatian
talk of soldiers and Christians as distinct characters ; and Tatian says
that the Christians declined even military commands. Clemens of
Alexandria calls his Christian contemporaries the " followers of peace,"
and expressly tells us " that the followers of peace used none of the imple
ments of war." Lactantius, another early Christian, says expressly,
" It can never be lawful for a righteous man to go to war." About the
end of the second century, Celsus, one of the opponents of Christianity,
charged the Christians with refusing to bear arms even in case of necessity.
Origen, the defender of the Christians, does not think of denying the fact ;
he admits the refusal, and justifies it, because war was unlawful. Even
after Christianity had spread over almost the whole of the known world,
Tertullian, in speaking of a part of the Roman armies, including more
than one-third of the standing legions of Rome, distinctly informs us
that " not a Christian could be found among them."
All this is explicit. The evidence of the following facts is however
yet more determinate and satisfactory. Some of the arguments which
at the present day are brought against the advocates of peace, were
then urged against these early Christians ; and these arguments are
examined and repelled. This indicates investigation and inquiry, and
manifests that their belief of the unlawfulness of war was not a vague
opinion, hastily admitted and loosely floating among them, but that it was
the result of deliberate examination, and a consequent firm convic
tion that Christ had forbidden it. The very same arguments which
are brought in defence of war at the present day were brought against
the Christians sixteen hundred years ago ; and sixteen hundred years
ago, they were repelled by these faithful contenders for the purity of
our religion. It is remarkable, too, that Tertullian appeals to 'the pre-
'cepts from the Mount, in proof of those principles on which this chapter
CHAP. 19.] CHRISTIANS BECOME SOLDIERS. 419
has been insisting : — that the dispositions which the precepts inculcate are
not compatible with war, and that war, therefore, i# irreconcilable with
Christianity.
If it be possible, a still stronger evidence of the primitive belief is
contained in the circumstance, that some of the Christian authors declared
that the refusal of the Christians to bear arms was a fulfilment of ancient
prophecy. The peculiar strength of this evidence consists in this, —
that the fact of a refusal to bear arms is assumed as notorious and
unquestioned. Irenaeus, who lived about the year 180, affirms that the
prophecy of Isaiah, which declared that men should turn their swords
into ploughshares and their spears into pruning-hooks, had been fulfilled
in his time ; " for the Christians," says he, " have changed their swords
,md their lances into instruments of peace, and they know not how to fight."
Justin Martyr, his contemporary, writes, — " That the prophecy is fulfilled
you have good reason to believe, for we, who in times past killed one
onother, do not now fight with our enemies." Tertullian, who lived later,
tays, "You must confess that the prophecy has been accomplished, as
f vr as the practice of every individual is concerned to whom it is appli
cable."
It has been sometimes said, that the motive which influenced the early
Christians to refuse to engage in war consisted in the idolatry which
was connected with the Roman armies. — One motive this idolatry
unquestionably afforded ; but it is obvious, from the quotations which we
have given, that their belief of the unlawfulness of fighting, independent
of any question of idolatry, was an insuperable objection to engaging in
war. Their words are explicit: "I cannot fight if I die." — "lama
Christian, and therefore I cannot fight"—" Christ," says Tertullian,
" by disarming Peter, disarmed every soldier ;" and Peter was not about
to fight in the armies of idolatry. So entire was their conviction of the
incompatibility of war with our religion, that they would not even be pres
ent at the gladiatorial fights, " lest," says Theophilus, " we should become
partakers of the murders committed 'there." Can any one believe that
they who would not even witness a battle between two men would them
selves fight in a battle between armies ? And the destruction of a gla
diator, it should be remembered, was authorized by the state, as much
as the destruction of enemies in war.
It is therefore indisputable, that the Christians who lived nearest to
the time of our Saviour believed, with undoubting confidence, that he
had unequivocally forbidden war ; that they openly avowed this belief;
and that, in support of it, they were willing to sacrifice, and did sacrifice,
their fortunes and their lives.
Christians, however, afterward became soldiers: and when f— >
their general fidelity to Christianity became relaxed ; when, in other
respects, they violated its principles ; when they had begun « to dis
ble" and "to falsify their word," and "to cheat;" when "Christian
casuists" had persuaded them that they might -sit at meat in the tdbfr
temple ;" when Christians accepted even the priesthoods of dolatry,
In a word, they became soldiers when they had ceased to be Chrisi
The departure from the original faithfulness was however not sud
denly general. Like every other corruption, war obtained by degre
During the first two hundred years, not a Christian soldier
record" In the third century, when Christianity became partially cor
rupted, Christian soldiers were common. The number mcrea
420 THE MOSAIC DISPENSATION. [ESSAY III.
the increase of the general profligacy ; until at last, in the fourth century,
Christians became soldiers without hesitation, and perhaps without remorse.
Here and there, however, an ancient father still lifted up his voice for
peace ; but these, one after another, dropping from the world, the tenet
that war is unlawful ceased at length to be a tenet of the church.
Let it always be borne in mind by those who are advocating war, that
they are contending for a corruption which their forefathers abhorred ;
and that they are making Jesus Christ the sanctioner of crimes, which
his purest followers offered up their lives because they would not
commit.
An argument has sometimes been advanced in favour of war, from the
divine communications to the Jews under the administration of Moses.
It has been said, that as wars were allowed and enjoined to that people,
they cannot be inconsistent with the will of God.
The reader who has perused the First Essay of this work will be
aware that to the present argument our answer is short : — If Christianity
prohibits war, there is, to Christians, an end of the controversy. War
cannot then be justified by the referring to any antecedent dispensation.
One brief observation may however be offered, that those who refer, in
justification of our present practice, to the authority by which the Jews
prosecuted their wars, must be expected to produce the same authority
for our own. Wars were commanded to the Jews ; but are they com
manded to us ? War, in the abstract, was never commanded : and surely
those specific wars which were enjoined upon the Jews for an express
purpose are neither authority nor example for us, who have received no
such injunction, and can plead no such purpose.
It will perhaps be said that the commands to prosecute wars, even to
extermination, are so positive and so often repeated, that it is not proba
ble, if they were inconsistent with the will of Heaven, that they would
have been thus peremptorily enjoined. We answer, that they were not
inconsistent with the will of Heaven then. Bat even then, the pro
phets foresaw that they were not accordant with the universal will
of God, since they predicted, that when that will should be fulfilled,
war should be eradicated from the world. And by what dispensation
was this will to be fulfilled ? By that of the " Rod out of the stem
of Jesse." It is worthy of recollection, too, that David was for
bidden to build the temple because he had shed blood. " As for me, it
was in my mind to build an house unto the name of the Lord my God :
but the word of the Lord came to me, saying, Thou hast shed blood abun
dantly, and hast made great wars : thou shalt not build an house unto my
name, because thou hast shed much blood upon the earth in my sight."*
So little accordancy did war possess with the purer offices even of the
Jewish dispensation.
Perhaps the argument to which the greatest importance is attached by
the advocates of war, and by which thinking men are chiefly induced to
acquiesce in its lawfulness, is this, — That a distinction is 1o be made
between rules which apply to us as individuals, and rules which apply to
us as subjects of the state ; and that the pacific injunctions of Christ
from the Mount, and all the other kindred commands and prohibitions of
the Christian Scriptures, have no reference to our conduct as members of
the political body.
* 1 Chron. xxii. 7, 8.
CHAP. 19.] DUTIES OF INDIVIDUALS AND NATIONS. 421
If there be soundness in the doctrines which have been delivered at
the commencement of the Essay upon the '* Elements of Political Recti
tude," this argument possesses no force or application.
When persons make such broad distinctions between the obligations of
Christianity on private and on public affairs, the proof of the rectitude of
the distinction must be expected of those who make it. General rules
are laid down by Christianity, of which, in some cases, the advocate of
war denies the applicability. He, therefore, is to produce the reason
and the authority for the exception. And that authority must be a com
petent authority, — the authority mediately or immediately of God. It is
to no purpose for such a person to tell us of the magnitude of political
affairs, — of the greatness of the interests which they involve, — of
" necessity," or of expediency. All these are very proper considerations
in subordination to the moral law ; otherwise they are wholly nugatory
and irrelevant. Let the reader observe the manner in which the argu
ment is supported. — If an individual suffers aggression, there is a power
to which he can apply that is above himself and above the aggressor ; a
power by which the bad passions of those around him are restrained, or
by which their aggressions are punished. But among nations there is no
acknowledged superior or common arbitrator. Even if there were, there
is no way in which its decisions could be enforced, but by the sword.
War, therefore, is the only means which one nation possesses of pro-
tecitng itself from the aggression of another. The reader will observe
the fundamental fallacy upon which the argument proceeds. — It assumes,
that the reason why an individual is not permitted to use violence is
that the laws will use it for him. Here is the error ; for the foundation
of the duty of forbearance in private life is, not that the laws will punish
aggression, but that Christianity requires forbearance.
Undoubtedly, if the existence of a common arbitrator were the founda
tion of the duty, the duty would not be binding upon nations. But that
which we require to be proved is this, — that Christianity exonerates
nations from those duties which she has imposed upon individuals. This,
the present argument does not prove ; and, in truth, with a singular
unhappiness in its application, it assumes, in effect, that she has imposed
these duties upon neither the one nor the other.
If it be said that Christianity allows to individuals some degree and
kind of resistance, and that some resistance is therefore lawful to states,
we do not deny it. But if it be said that the degree of lawful resistance
extends to the slaughter of our fellow Christians,— that it extends to war,
we do deny it : we say that the rules of Christianity cannot, by any
possible latitude of interpretation, be made to extend to it.
of forbearance, then, is antecedent to all considerations respecting t
condition of man ; and whether he be under the protection of laws < lot,
the duty of forbearance is imposed.
The only truth which appears to be elicited by the present argun*
is, that the difficulty of obeying the forbearing rules of Chnstiamy «
greater in the case of nations than in the case of individuals : theob^
Ion to obey them is th, sa,ne tn both. Nor let any one urge the difficulty
of obedience in opposition to the duty; for he who does this has yet to
learn one of the most awful rules of his religion,-* rule that was enforced
bv the precepts, and more especially by the final example, of
apostles, and of martyrs, the rule which requires that we should be
client even unto death,"
422 OFFENSIVE AND DEFENSIVE WAR. [ESSAY 111.
Let it not, however, be supposed that we believe the difficulty of for
bearance would be great in practice, as it is great in theory. Our inter
ests are commonly promoted by the fulfilment of our duties ; and we
hope hereafter to show that the fulfilment of the duty of forbearance forms
no exception to the applicability of the rule.
The intelligent reader will have perceived that the " War" of which
we speak is all war, without reference to its objects whether offensive
or defensive. In truth, respecting any other than defensive war, it is
scarcely worth while to entertain a question, since no one with whom
we are concerned to reason will advocate its opposite. Some persons
indeed talk with much complacency of their reprobation of offensive war.
Yet to reprobate no more than this is only to condemn that which wick
edness itself is not wont to justify. Even those who practise offensive
war affect to veil its nature by calling it by another name.
In conformity with this we find that it is to defence that the peaceable
precepts of Christianity are directed. Offence appears not to have even
suggested itself. It is, " Resist not evil :" it is, " Overcome evil with
good :" it is, " Do good to them that hate you :" it is " Love your enemies :"
it is, " Render not evil for evil: it is, "Unto him that smileth thee on
the one cheek." All this supposes previous offence, or injury, or violence ;
and it is then that forbearance is enjoined.
It is common with those who justify defensive war to identify the
question with that of individual self-defence, and although the questions
are in practice sufficiently dissimilar, it has been seen that we object not
to their being regarded as identical. The rights of self-defence have
already been discussed, and the conclusions to which the moral law
appears to lead afford no support to the advocate of war.
We say the questions are practically dissimilar ; so that if we had a
right to kill a man in self-defence, very few wars would be shown to be
lawful. Of the wars which are prosecuted, some are simply wars of
aggression ; some are for the maintenance of a balance of power ; some
are in assertion of technical rights ; and some, undoubtedly, to repel
invasion. The last are perhaps the fewest ; and of these only it can be
said that they bear any analogy whatever to the case which is supposed ;
and even in these the analogy is seldom complete. It has rarely indeed
happened that wars have been undertaken simply for the preservation of
life, and that no other alternative has remained to a people than to kill
or to be killed. And let it be remembered, that unless this alternative
alone remains, the case of individual self-defence is irrelevant : it applies
not, practically, to the subject.
But indeed you cannot in practice make distinctions, even moderately
accurate between defensive war and war for other purposes.
Supposing, the Christian Scriptures had said, An army may fight in
its own defence, but not for any other purpose. — Whoever will attempt to
apply this rule in practice will find that he has a very wide range of
justifiable warfare ; a range that will embrace many more wars than
moralists, laxer than we shall suppose him to be, are willing to defend.
If an army may fight in defence of their own lives, they may, and they
must, fight in defence of the lives of others : if they may fight in defence
of the lives of others, they will fight in defence of their property : if in
defence of property, they will fight in defence of political rights : if in
defence of rights, they will fight in promotion of interests : if in promo
tion of interests, they will fight in promotion of their glory and their
CHAP. 19.] WARS ALWAYS AGGRESSIVE— PALEY. 423
crimes. Now let any man of honesty look over the gradations by which
we arrive at this climax, and I believe he will find that, in practice, no
curb can be placed upon the conduct of an army until they reach that
climax. There is, indeed, a wide distance between li^htin^ in dct« n. «•
of life and fighting in furtherance of our crimes ; but the su-p* which
lead from one to the other will follow in inevitable succession. I know
that the letter of our rule excludes it, but I know that the rule will hi- a
letter only. It is very easy for us to sit in our studies, and to point the
commas, and semicolons, and periods of the soldier's career : it is \
easy for us to say, he shall stop at defence of life or at protection of prop
erty, or at the support of rights ; but armies will never listen to us :
we shall be only the Xerxes of morality, throwing our idle chains into
the tempestuous ocean of slaughter.
What is the testimony of experience ? When nations arc mutually
exasperated, and armies are levied, ami battles are fought, does not every
one know that with whatever motives of defence one party may have
begun the contest, both, in turn, become aggressors ? In the fury of
slaughter, soldiers do not attend, they cannot attend, to questions of
aggression. Their business is destruction, and their business they will
perform. If the army of defence obtains success, it soon becomes an
army of aggression. Having repelled the invader, it begins to punish
him. If a war has once begun, it is vain to think of distinctions of aggres
sion and defence. Moralists may talk of distinctions, but soldiers will
make none ; and none can be made ; it is without the limits of possibility.
Indeed some of the definitions of defensive or of just war which are
proposed by moralists indicate how impossible it is to confine warfare
within any assignable limits. "-The objects of just war," says Paley,
" are precaution, defence, or reparation." — " Every just war supposes
an injury perpetrated, attempted, or feared."
I shall acknowledge, that if these be justifying motives to war, I see
very little purpose in talking of morality upon the subject.
It is in vain to expatiate on moral obligations, if we are at liberty to
declare war whenever an " injury is feared :" an injury, without limit to
its insignificance ! a fear, without stipulation for its reasonableness !
The judges, also, of the reasonableness of fear, are to be they who are
under its influence ; and who so likely to judge amiss as those who are
afraid ? Sounder philosophy than this has told us, that " he who has to
reason upon his duty when the temptation to transgress it is before him,
is almost sure to reason himself into an error."
Violence, and rapine, and ambition are not to be restrained by moral
ity like this. It may serve for the speculations of a study ; but we will
venture to affirm, that mankind will never be controlled by it. Moral
rules are useless, if, from their own nature, they cannot be or will not
be applied. Who believes that if kings and conquerors may fight when
they have fears, they will not fight when they have them not ? The
morality allows too much latitude for the passions to retain any practical
restraint upon them. And a morality that will not be practised, I had
almost' said, that cannot be practised, is a useless morality. It is a
theory of morals. We want clearer and more exclusive rules ; we want
more obvious and immediate sanctions. It were in vain for a philoso
pher to say to a general who was burning for glory, " You are at liberty
to engage in the war provided you have suffered, or fear you will suffer,
gn injury ; otherwise Christianity prohibits it." — He will tell him of
424 THE QUAKERS IN AMERICA. [ESSAY III.
twenty injuries that have been suffered, of a hundred that have been
attempted, and of a thousand that he fears. And what answer can the
philosopher make to him ?
If these are the proper standards of just war, there will be little diffi
culty in proving any war to be just, except indeed that of simple aggres
sion ; and by the rules of this morality, the aggressor is difficult of dis
covery ; for he whom we choose to " fear," may say that he had previous
** fear" of us, and that his " fear" prompted the hostile symptoms which
made us *' fear" again. — The truth is, that to attempt to make any dis
tinctions upon the subject is vain. War must be wholly forbidden, or
allowed without restriction to defence ; for no definitions of lawful and
unlawful war will be, or can be, attended to. If the principles of Chris
tianity, in any case, or for any purpose, allow armies to meet and to
slaughter one another, her principles will never conduct us to the period
which prophecy has assured us they shall produce. There is no hope
of an eradication of war but by an absolute and total abandonment of it.
OF THE PROBABLE PRACTICAL EFFECTS OF ADHERING TO THE MORAL
LAW IN RESPECT TO WAR.
We have seen that the duties of the religion which God has imparted
to mankind require irresistance ; and surely it is reasonable to hope,
even without a reference to experience, that he will make our irresist
ance subservient to our interests ; that if, for the purpose of conforming
to his will, we subject ourselves to difficulty or danger, he will protect
us in our obedience and direct it to our benefit ; that if he requires us
not to be concerned in war, he will preserve us in peace ; that he
will not desert those who have no other protection, and who have aban
doned all other protection because they confide in his alone.
This we may reverently hope ; yet it is never to be forgotten that our
apparent interests in the present life are sometimes, in the economy of
God, made subordinate to our interests in futurity.
Yet, even in reference only to the present state of existence, I believe
we shall find that the testimony of experience is, that forbearance is
most conducive to our interests. There is practical truth in the position
that " When a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies
to be at peace with him."
The reader of American history will recollect, that in the beginning
of the last century a desultory and most dreadful warfare was carried on
by the natives against the European settlers ; a warfare that was pro
voked, as such warfare has almost always originally been, by the injuries
and violence of the Christians. The mode of destruction was secret
and sudden. The barbarians sometimes lay in wait for those who
might come within their reach on the highway or in the fields, and shot
them without warning ; and sometimes they attacked the Europeans in
their houses, " scalping some, and knocking out the brains of others."
From this horrible warfare the inhabitants sought safety by abandoning
their homes, and retiring to fortified places or to the neighbourhood of
garrisons ; and those whom necessity still compelled to pass beyond the
limits of such protection provided themselves with arms for their defence.
But amid this dreadful desolation and universal terror, the Society of
C«AP- 19« THE QUAKERS IN IRELAND. 425
Friends, who were a considerable proportion of the whole population
were steadfast to their principles. They would neither retire to earn-'
sons nor provide themselves with arms. They remained openly m the
country, while the rest were flying to the forts. They still pursued their
occupations m the fields or at their homes, without a weapon cithrr lor
annoyance or defence. And what was their fate ? They lived in secu
nty and quiet The habitation, which, to his armed neighbour, was the
scene of murder and of the scalpmg-knife, was to the unarmed Quaker
a place of safety and of peace.
Three of the society were however killed. And who were they?
1 hey were three who abandoned their principles. Two of these vie
tims were men who, in the simple language of the narrator, " used to
go to their labour without any weapons, and trusted to the Almighty, and
depended on His providence to protect them (it being their principle
not to use weapons of war to offend others or to defend themselves) ;
but a spirit of distrust taking place in their minds, they took weapons of
war to defend themselves, and the Indians, who had seen them several
times without them and let them alone, saying they were peaceable men
and hurt nobody, therefore they would not hurt them, — now seeing them
have guns, and supposing they designed to kill the Indians, they there
fore shot, the men dead." The third whose life was sacrificed was a
woman, who " had remained in her habitation," not thinking herself war
ranted in going " to a fortified place for preservation, neither she, her
son, nor daughter, nor to take thither the little ones ; but the poor woman
after some time began to let in a slavish fear, and advised her children
to go with her to a fort not far from their dwelling." She went ; and
shortly afterward " the bloody, cruel^ Indians lay by the way, and killed
her."*
The fate of the Quakers during the rebellion in Ireland was nearly
similar. It is well known that the rebellion was a time, not only of open
war, but of cold-blooded murder; of the utmost fury of bigotry, and the
utmost exasperation of revenge. Yet the Quakers were preserved even
to a proverb ; and when strangers passed through streets of ruin and
observed a house standing uninjured and alone, they would sometimes
point, and say, " That, doubtless, is the house of a Quaker."! — So com
plete indeed was the preservation which these people experienced, that
in an official document of the society they say, — " no member of our
society fell a sacrifice but one young man ;" and that young man had
assumed regimentals and arms.J
It were to no purpose to say, in opposition to the evidence of these
facts, that they form an exception to a general rule. — The exception to
the rule consists in the trial of the experiment of non-resistance, not in
its success. Neither were it to any purpose to say, that the savages of
America or the desperadoes of Ireland spared the Quakers because they
were previously known to be an unoffending people, or because the
Quakers had previously gained the love of these by forbearance or by
good offices : we concede all this ; it is the very argument which we
maintain. We say, that a uniform, undeviating regard to the peaceable
obligations of Christianity becomes the safeguard of those who practise it.
* See Select Anecdotes, &c. by John Barclay, pa^es 71, 79.
t The Moravians, whose principles upon the subject of war are similar t<
Quakers, experienced also similar preservation,
t See Hancock's Principles of Peace Exemplified.
426 COLONIZATION OF PENNSYLVANIA. [ESSAY III-
We veiiiure to maintain, that no reason whatever can be assigned why
the fate of the Quakers would not be the fate of all who should adopt
their conduct. No reason can be assigned why, if their number had
been multiplied tenfold or a hundred-fold, they would not have been pre
served. If there be such a reason, let us hear it. The American and
Irish Quakers were, to the rest of the community, what one nation is to
a continent. And we must require the advocate of war to produce" (that
which has never yet been produced) a reason for believing, that although
individuals exposed to destruction were preserved, a nation exposed to
destruction would be destroyed. We do not however say, that if a peo
ple, in the customary state of men's passions, should be assailed by an
invader, and should, on a sudden, choose to declare that they would try
whether Providence would protect them, — of such a people we do not
say that they would experience protection, and that none of them would
be killed : but we say, that the evidence of experience is, that a people
who habitually regard the obligations of Christianity in their conduct
towards other men, and who steadfastly refuse, through whatever con
sequences, to engage in acts of hostility, will experience protection in their
peacefulness : and it matters nothing to the argument, whether we refer
that protection to the immediate agency of Providence, or to the influence
of such conduct upon the minds of men.*
Such has been the experience of the unoffending and unresisting, in
individual life. A national example of a refusal to bear arms has only
once been exhibited to the world : but that one example has proved, so
far as its political circumstances enabled it to prove, all that humanity
could desire and all that skepticism could demand, in favour of our
argument.
It has been the ordinary practice of those who have colonized distant
countries, to force a footing, or to maintain it, with the sword. One of
the first objects has been to build a fort and to provide a military. The
adventurers became soldiers, and the colony was a garrison. Pennsyl
vania was however colonized by men who believed that war was ab
solutely incompatible with Christianity, and who therefore resolved not
to practise it. Having determined not to fight, they maintained no
soldiers and possessed no arms. They planted themselves in a country
that was surrounded by savages, and by savages who knew they were
unarmed. If easiness of conquest, or incapability of defence, could sub
ject them to outrage, the Pennsylvanians might have been the very sport
of violence. Plunderers might have robbed them without retaliation, and
armies might have slaughtered them without resistance. If they did not
give a temptation to outrage, no temptation could be given. But these
were the people who possessed their country in security, while those
around them were trembling for their existence. This was a land of
* Ramond, in his " Travels in the Pyrenees," fell in from time to time with those despe
rate marauders who infest the boundaries of Spain and Italy, — men who are familiar with
danger and robbery and blood. What did experience teach him was the most efficient means
of preserving himself from injury? To go "unarmed." He found that he had "little to
apprehend from men whom we inspire with no distrust or envy, and every thing to expect in
those from whom we claim only what is due from man to man. The laws of nature still exist
for those who have long shaken off the law of civil government." — " The assassin has been
my guide in the defiles of the boundaries of Italy ; the smuggler of the Pyrenees has received
me with a welcome in his secret paths. Armed, I should have been the enemy of both ;
unarmed, they have alike respected me. In such expectation I have long since laid aside all
menacing apparatus whatever. Arms irritate the wicked and intimidate the simple : the
man of peace among mankind has a much more sacred defence, — his character."
CHAP. 19.] CLARKSON— OLDMIXON— PROUD. 427
peace, while every other was a land of war. The conclusion is inevitable,
although it is extraordinary :— they were in no need of amis, because they
would not use them.
These Indians were sufficiently ready to commit outrages upon other
states, and often visited them with desolation and .slaughter ; with that
sort of desolation, and that sort of slaughter, which might be expected
from men whom civilization had not reclaimed from cruelty, and whom
religion had not awed into forbearance. " But whatever the quarrels of
the Pennsylvanian Indians were with others, they uniformly respected,
and held as it were sacred, the territories of William Penn."* " The
Pennsylvanians never lost man, woman, or child by them; which neither
the colony of Maryland nor that of Virginia could say, no more than the
great colony of New-England."!
The security and quiet of Pennsylvania was not a transient freedom
from war, such as might accidentally happen to any nation. She con
tinued to enjoy it " for more than seventy years," j and " subsisted in the
midst of six Indian nations, without so much as a militia for her defence."^
" The Pennsylvanians became armed, though without arms ; they became
strong, though without strength ; they became safe, without the ordinary
means of safety. The constable's staff was the only instrument of
authority among them for the greater part of a century, and never, during
the administration of Penn, or that of his proper successors, was- there a
quarrel or a war."j|
I cannot wonder that these people were not molested, — extraordinary
and unexampled as their security was. There is something so noble in
this perfect confidence in the Supreme Protector, in this utter exclusion
of " slavish fear," in this voluntary relinquishment of the means of injury
or of defence, that I do not wonder that even ferocity could be disarmed
by such virtue. A people, generously living without arms, amid nations
of warriors ! Who would attack a people such as this ? There are few
men so abandoned as not to respect such confidence. It were a peculiar
and an unusual intensity of wickedness that would not even revere it.
And when was the security of Pennsylvania molested, and its peace
destroyed? — When the men who had directed its counsels, and who. would
not engage in war, were out-voted in its legislature: when they who sup
posed that there was greater security in the sword than in Christianity^
became the predominating body. From that hour the Pennsylvanians
transferred their confidence in Christian principles to a confidence in theii
arms ; and from that hour to the present they have been subject to war.
Such is the evidence derived from a national example, of the conse
quences of a pursuit of the Christian policy in relation to war. Here are
a people who absolutely refused to fight, and who incapacitated them
selves for resistance by refusing to possess arms ; and these were the
people whose land, amid surrounding broils and slaughter, was selected
as a land of security and peace. The only national opportunity which
the virtue of the Christian world has afforded us of ascertaining the
safety of relying upon God for defence, has determined that it is safe.
If the evidence which we possess do not satisfy us of the expediency
of confiding in God, what evidence do we ask, or what can we receive *
We have his promise that he will protect those who abandon their seem
* Clarkson. t Okimixon, anno 1708. t Proud. $ OldmixoiL
U Clarkson : Life of Perm.
428 RECAPITULATION. [ESSAY III.
ing interests in the performance of his will ; and we have the testimony
of those who have confided in him that he has protected them. Can the
advocate of war produce one single instance in the history of man, of a
person who had given an unconditional obedience to the will of Heaven,
and who did not find that his conduct was wise as well as virtuous, that
it accorded with his interests as well as with his duty ? We ask the
same question in relation to the peculiar obligations to irresistance.
Where is the man who regrets, that in observance of the forbearing
duties of Christianity, he consigned his preservetion to the superintend
ence of God ? — And the solitary national example that is before us
confirms the testimony of private life ; for there is sufficient reason for
believing that no nation, in modern ages, has possessed so large a portion
of virtue or of happiness as Pennsylvania, before it had seen human
blood. I would therefore repeat the question, — What evidence ,do we
ask, or can we receive ?
This is the point from which we wander : — WE DO NOT BELIEVE IN
THE PROVIDENCE or GOD. Wlien this statement is formally made to us,
we think, perhaps, that it is not true ; but our practice is an evidence of
its truth ; for if we did believe, we should also confide in it, and should
be willing to stake upon it the consequences of our obedience.* We can
talk with sufficient fluency of " trusting in Providencej" but in the appli
cation of it to our conduct in life, we know wonderfully little. Who is
it that confides in Providence, and for what does he trust Him ? Does
his confidence induce him to set aside his own views of interest and
safety, and simply to obey precepts which appear inexpedient and unsafe ?
This is the confidence that is of value, and of which we know so little.
There are many who believe that war is disallowed by Christianity, and
who would rejoice that it were for ever abolished ; but there are few who
are willing to maintain an undaunted and unyielding stand against it.
They can talk of the loveliness of peace, ay, and argue against the
lawfulness of war,, but when difficulty or suffering would be the conse
quence, they will not refuse to do what they know to be unlawful, they
will not practise the peacefulness which they say they admire. Those
who are ready to sustain the consequences of undeviating obedience are
the supporters of whom Christianity stands in need. She wants men
who are willing to suffer for her principles.
The positions, then, which we have endeavoured to establish are
these —
I. That those considerations which operate as general causes of war,
are commonly such as Christianity condemns :
II. That the effects of war are, to a very great extent, prejudicial to
the moral character of a people, and to their social and political welfare :
III. That the general character of Christianity is wholly incongruous
with war, and that its general duties are incompatible with it :
IV. That some of the express precepts and declarations of the Chris
tian Scriptures virtually forbid it :
V. That the primitive Christians believed that Christ had forbidden
war ; and that some of them suffered death in affirmance of this belief.
* " The dread of being destroyed by our enemies if we do not go to war with them is a
plain and unequivocal proof of our disbelief in the superintendence of Divine Providence." —
The Lawfulness of Defensive War impartially considered. By a, Member of the Church »f
England.
CHAP. 19.] GEN RAL OBSERVATIONS.
tions to it bear any proportion to the evidence itself. But whatever mav
er s-ely lt is reasonable to
h h be maintai"ed without slauter
reaS°nS W ll Produccs
ichief F uccs en~
mischief Even waiving the obligations of Christianity, we have to
choose between evils that are certain and evils that are doubtful'
between he actual endurance of a great calamity and the possibility of
a less. It certainly cannot be proved that peace would not be the best
policy; and since we know that the present system is bad, it were rea- §
sonable and wise to try whether the other is not better. In reality I can
scarcely conceive the possibility of a greater evil than that which man-
kind now endure ; an evil, moral and physical, of far wider extent an,!
tar greater intensity, than our familiarity with it allows us to suppose
i system of peace be not productive of less evil than the system of
war, its consequences must indeed be enormously bad ; and that it would
produce such consequences, we have no warrant for believing, either
irom reason or from practice,— either from the principles of the moral
government of God, or from the experience of mankind. Whenever a
people shall pursue, steadily and uniformly, the pacific morality of the
gospel, and shall do this from the pure motive of obedience, there is no
reason to fear for the consequences : there is no reason to fear that they
would experience any evils such as we now endure, or that they would
not find that Christianity understands their interests better than them
selves ; and that the surest and the only rule of wisdom, of safety, and
of expediency is to maintain her spirit in every circumstance of life.
" There is reason to expect," says Dr. Johnson, " that as the world is
more enlightened, policy and morality will at last be reconciled."* When
this enlightened period shall arrive, we shall be approaching, and we
shall not till then approach, that era of purity and peace, when " violence
shall no more be heard in our land, wasting nor destruction within our
borders;" that era in which God has promised that "they shall not
hurt nor destroy in all his holy mountain." That a period like this will
come, I am not able to doubt : I believe it, because it is not credible that
he will always endure the butchery of man by man ; because he has
declared that he will not endure it ; and because I think there is a per
ceptible approach of that period in which he will say, — " It is enough."!
* Falkland's Islands. f 2 Samuel xiir. 16.
430 CONCLUSION. [Essx III.
In this belief the Christian may rejoice : he may rejoice that the number
is increasing 'of those who are asking, — "Shall the sword devour for
ever ?" and of those who, whatever be the opinions or the practice of
others, are openly saying, " I am for peace."*
It will perhaps be asked, what then are the duties of a subject who
belie'ves that all war is incompatible with his religion, but whose governors
engage in a war and demand his service ? We answer explicitly, It is his
duty, mildly and temperately, yet frmly, to refuse to serve.— Let such as
these remember that an honourable and an awful duty is laid upon them.
It is upon their fidelity, so far as human agency is concerned, that the
cause of peace is suspended. Let them then be willing to avow their
opinions, and to defend them. Neither let them be contented with words,
if more than words, if suffering also, is required. It is only by the un
yielding fidelity of virtue that corruption can be extirpated. If you
believe that Jesus Christ has prohibited slaughter, let not the opinions
or the commands of a world induce you to join in it. By this " steady
and determinate pursuit of virtue," the benediction which attaches to
those who hear the sayings of God and do them, will rest upon you ;
and the time will come when even the world will honour you, as con
tributors to the work of human reformation.
CONCLUSION.
THAT hope which was intimated at the commencement of this work,
— that a period of greater moral purity would eventually arrive, — has
sometimes operated as an encouragement to the writer in enforcing the
obligations of morality to an extent which few who have written such
books have ventured to advocate. In exhibiting a standard of rectitude
such as that which it has been attempted to exhibit here, — a standard to
which not many in the present day are willing to conform, and of which
many would willingly dispute the authority, some encouragement was
needed ; and no human encouragement could be so efficient as that which
consisted in the belief that the principles would progressively obtain
more and more of the concurrence and adoption of mankind.
That there are indications of an advancement of the human species
towards greater purity in principle and in practice cannot, I think, be
disputed. There is a manifest advancement in intellectual concerns : —
Science of almost every kind is extending her empire ; — political insti
tutions are becoming rapidly ameliorated ;t and morality and religion, if
their progress be less perceptible, are yet advancing with an onward
pace.J
* Psalm cxx. 7.
t "The degree of scientific knowledge which would once have conferred celebrity and
immortality is now, in this country, attained by thousands of obscure individuals." — Fox's
Lectures. "To one who considers coolly of the subject, it will appear that human nature
in general really enjoys more liberty at present, in the most arbitrary governments of Eu
rope, than it ever did during the most flourishing period of ancient times." — Hume.
t Not that the present state or the prospects of the world afford any countenance to the
speculations — favourite speculations with some men — respecting " human perfectibility."
-] CONCLUSION. 43l
Lamentations over the happiness or excellence of other times have
generally very little foundation in justice or reason.* In truth, they can
not be just, because they are perpetual. There has probably IH v, r
been an age in which mankind have not bewailed the good times th it
were departed, and made mournful comparisons of them with their own
If these regrets had not been ill-founded, the world must have perpetu
ally sunk deeper and deeper in wickedness, and retired further and
further towards intellectual night. But the intellectual sun has been
visibly advancing towards its noon ; and I believe there never was a
period in which, speaking collectively of the species, the power of reli
gion was greater than it is now : at least, there never was a period in
which greater efforts were made to diffuse the influence of religion
among mankind. Men are to be judged of by their fruits ; and why should
men thus more vigorously exert themselves to make others religious, if
the power of religion did not possess increased influence upon their
own minds ? The increase of crime, even if it increased in a progres
sion more rapid than that of population and the state of society which
gives rise to crime,— is a very imperfect standard of judgment. Those
offences of which civil laws take cognizance form not a hundredth
part of the wickedness of the world. What multitudes are there of bad
men who never yet were amenable to the laws ! How extensive may
be the additional purity without any diminution of legal crimes !
And assuredly there is a perceptible advance in the sentiments of good
men towards a higher standard of morality. The lawfulness is fre
quently questioned now of actions of which a few ages ago few or none
doubted the rectitude. Nor is it to be disputed, that these questions are
resulting more and more in the conviction, that this higher standard is
proposed and enforced by the moral law of God. Who that considers
these things will hastily affirm that doctrines in morality which refer to
a standard that to him is new are unfounded in this moral law ? Who
will think it sufficient to say that strange things are brought to his ears ?
Who will satisfy himself with the exclamation, These are hard sayings,
who can hear them ? Strange things must be brought to the ears of
those who have not been accustomed to hear the truth. Hard sayings
must be heard by those who have not hitherto practised the purity of
morality.
. Such considerations, I say, have afforded encouragement in the attempt
to uphold a standard which the majority of mankind have been little ac
customed to contemplate ; and now, and in time to come, they will suffice
to encourage, although that standard should be, as by many it undoubt
edly will be, rejected and contemned.
I am conscious of inadequacy, — what if I speak the truth, and say, I
am conscious of unworthiness — thus to attempt to advocate the law of
In the sense in which this phrase is usually employed, I fear there is little hope of the per
fection of man. At least there is little hope, if Christianity be true. Christianity declares
that man is not perfectible except by the immediate assistance of God ; and tl
assistance the advocates of " human perfectibility" are not wont to expect. The question,
in the sense in which it is ordinarily exhibited, is in reality a question of the truth of Chris-
* "This humour of complaining proceeds from the frailty of our natures; it being nat
ural for man to complain of the present and to commend the times past." — Sir Jonah Ci
1665. This was one hundred and fifty years ago : the same frailty appears to have &
sisted two or three thousands of years before : " Say not thou, What is the cause th
former days were better than these ? for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning thw."-
Eccles. vii, 10.
432 CONCLUSION. [ESSAY III.
God. Let no man identify the advocate with tne cause, nor imagine,
when he detects the errors and the weaknesses of the one, that the other
is therefore erroneous or weak. I apologize for myself: especially I
apologize for those instances in which the character of the Christian may
have been merged in that of the exposer of the evils of the world.
There is a Christian love which is paramount to all ; a love which he
only is likely sufficiently to maintain who remembers that he who ex
poses an evil and he who partakes in it, will soon stand together as sup
pliants for the mercy of God.
And finally, having written a book which is devoted almost exclusively
to disquisitions on morality, I am solicitous lest the reader should imagine
that I regard the practice of morality as all that God requires of man.
I believe far other ; and am desirous of here expressing the conviction,
that although it becomes not us to limit the mercy of God, or curiously to
define the conditions on which he will extend that mercy, — yet that the
true and safe foundation of our hope is in ** the redemption that is in
Christ Jesus.
THE END.
Ifrmond, Jonathan
1006 Essays on the principles
morality
1839
PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11