and that he has not the least possible claim upon us for feel ings of that description. But it will be noticed, that we our selves are just as much benefited by his gift, as if he had be stowed it from purely benevolent motives; while at the same time we may suppose that the personal and self-interested objects of the donor are secured. Here are benefits on both sides, to the giver and the receiver. Now if mere interest, if mere benefit either to ourselves or others, did of itself and independently of all other considerations, constitute right or virtue, then our feeling of gratitude would not change; the circumstance of the man's acting from interested motives would make no difference; we should be just as grateful to him for his kindness at last, as we were at first. But this is not the case; and such is the constitution of our nature that it cannot possibly be the case. We accordingly have here very striking evidence, that the circumstance of an action's being a beneficial one to the agent, or even to any one else, does not necessarily make it a right one; and that mere self-interest or good to ourselves is very far from being identical with uprightness.—And it is essentially the same under the reception of supposed injuries. We are at such times dissatisfied, indignant, angry; and have reason to be $0. But if we subsequently discover, that the sufferings, which we have endured, were occasioned by mere accident, or by some unavoidable necessity, without any degree of ill feeling or evil intention, our feelings at once change; we may grieve and lament at what has happened, but it is impossible in any proper sense of the term to be longer angry. Now, although our feelings in respect to the person who has injured us are changed, we may suppose that we ourselves suffer just as much as we did before, but still we do not feel at liberty to make our suffering the measure of the evil intention or wrong. That is something which we intuitively perceive to stand by itself, independently of any results, which may have happened; and which is to be estimated, not by a reference to any accidental circumstances whether favorable or unfavorable, but from a contemplation of its own nature. All these considerations go to show, that in every case of voluntary conduct, which is not perfectly indifferent, there is a right or wrong; which right or wrong, whatever may

be their attendants and accessories, cannot be resolved into nere happiness and unhappiness, into mere good and evil, or into any thing else.

§. 290. Shown, in the fourth place, by the character of the emotions, which arise in view of actual instances of right and wrong.

God

(IV.) That there is an immutable standard of right and wrong is shown, in the fourth place, by the existence and character of emotions, which are always found to arise within us, when any instance of right or wrong in actual life comes under our notice. The origin of the abstract notions of right and wrong is, where Cudworth has placed it, in the INTELLECT, using the term in distinction from the sentient part of our nature. We are so constituted, that whenever occasions of actual right or wrong occur, these ideas or intellections, (if we may use a good term though somewhat antiquated,) naturally and necessarily arise within us. has so constituted us, that, in the matter of Morals, the intellect has a share as well as the sensibilities. It is the intellect, sometimes we say the pure intellect, (that is to say, the intellect, wholly disconnected in its action from the senses,) which makes known to us the abstract conception, the pure and beautiful ideality of rectitude; and which therefore constitutes for every action an inflexible rule or standard of right or wrong; but it is the Moral Sensibility or Conscience, which makes known to us and to others, whether we or they approximate to or diverge from that standard. Now if we look into this interesting and important part of our mental nature, (that is to say, into the conscience,) and consider the emotions, which have their origin there, we shall have additional evidence of the truth of our doctrine. In every instance of moral conduct there is abstractly a right or wrong pertaining to that conduct; it is the province of conscience in the exercise of those emotions of approval and disapproval, which are appropriate to it, to determine which of the two it is. In other words there is applicable to every instance of moral conduct, the immutable standard of rectitude; and it is the province of conscience to determine, whether the action in question is conformable to that rule or not. Conformity to the standard of rectitude is approved ;

divergency from it is disapproved; and the intensity of the emotions of approval or disapproval, if the conscience be not perverted as it sometimes is, will be in proportion to the greater or less degree of divergency from the immutable rule. Now here is a distinct class of emotions, the emotions of moral approval and disapproval; which, when we consult our consciousness in respect to them, we know to be essentially different from emotions of beauty, of sublimity, of the ludicrous, and from all other emotions; we know them to have a specific nature of their own, to be sui generis. Every person, who is acquainted with the philosophy of the mind, knows that every class of emotions has its specific and appropriate objects. And what are the objects, which are the basis of these emotions; in other words, what are the objects, in connection with which they are found to exist, and not otherwise? Undoubtedly human actions, in connection with the great fact derived from the original, and unalterable suggestions of the intellect, that they are placed under the surveillance and the requisitions of the immutable standard of rectitude. Actions thus circumstanced and nothing else, (neither beauty nor interest nor fame nor any other possible object of contemplation and pursuit,) are the appropriate objects of these emotions. They do not arise on any other occasions; they disdain to have any thing to do with lower objects; they elevate themselves to a higher mark; they inquire not for the pleasure of actions nor for the emolument of actions, but for the right or wrong of actions. This is the true account of these emotions; and they, therefore, take for granted in their very nature the reality of Right in distinction from every thing else, and the real and immutable separation of right from wrong.

But perhaps it will be said, that if mere personal interest, good, or happiness does not constitute right, that authority and law does. Is not human law, within the acknowledged sphere of its operation the rule of duty? Does it not constitute the standard of right to those, who come within its reach? And especially the Divine law, the express will of the Supreme Being, is not that the source of rectitude on the one hand and of crime on the other; of rectitude when it is obeyed, and of crime when it is disobeyed? These questions

undoubtedly are worthy of consideration. We do not feel disposed to avoid an answer to them, even if it were practicable. Something has already been said, having a bearing upon them; but we will let them have a distinct place, without, however, breaking the train of thought, or altering the form of the argument.

§. 291. Shown, in the fifth place, from the deportment and conduct of individuals, and from the character of codes of law and civil institutions,

(V.) The doctrine of the permanent nature of Rectitude and of the Immutability of moral distinctions finds support, in the fifth place, from what we notice of the moral judgments of mankind in respect to the deportment and conduct of individuals, and also in respect to the character of codes of law, civil institutions, and forms of government. If the human mind were so constituted as to receive the doctrine as a fundamental truth, that Law of itself, whether human or divine, necessarily within the sphere of its operation constitutes whatever it ordains right, and whatever it prohibits wrong, then men would universally agree in the application of this standard of rectitude, and would not feel the least compunction or hesitation in justifying all actions whatever, which might happen to be performed under the requisitions of law. But this is not the fact. In a multitude of cases the conduct of men, acting under the forms and requisitions of law, is condemned by the general voice of mankind as utterly unjustifiable and wrong.

One or two instances, (perhaps, however, less to the purpose than some others which might be adduced,) will illustrate what we mean. In the year 1605, the Dutch government, being then engaged in a fierce war with Spain, gave orders, that Spanish prisoners, in retaliation of like severities alleged against the Spaniards, should be put to death. With these orders the Dutch Admiral Hautain set sail to intercept a reinforcement of Spanish soldiers, that were understood to be on their way to Flanders. Having succeeded in capturing them, as was expected, he ordered five companies, in obedience to the commands of the Dutch Government, to be tied together in pairs, and at a given signal to be thrown overboard into the sea. This diabolical transaction certainly finds no response in the human bosom. The heart and

the conscience of mankind rise up against it as a great abomination, however it may have been sanctioned by law, and provoked by the severities of the opposing party.

But it is not

It is enough ages of the

The massacre of St. Bartholomew was perpetrated by public authority and under the plausible forms of law; but it was a requisition on the very face of it, so high-handed and atrocious, that a number of Roman Catholic officers, acting at the almost certain risk of the displeasure of the French Government, refused to lend their agency to carry it into effect. Did they, or does any one else, suppose that the mere order of the French Government affected either the right or wrong of that massacre? Had it not in itself a character heavendaring, atrocious, black, even to the utmost limit of moral turpitude? But this could not be, if human law were in itself and necessarily a source of rectitude, and could spread the mantle of justice over all its requisitions. necessary to take up time with such instances. to observe, that men every where and in all world make a distinction between a legal enactment and the justice of that enactment, between the form and matter of a law and its rectitude; constantly pronouncing, with the utmost propriety of language and with the utmost truth in fact, one law to be right and another to be wrong, which would be abundantly absurd, if the law itself were the source and the measure of right. In the same way men pronounce their opinions upon codes of law, taken as a whole, and upon systems of government. When the laws of Solon are pronounced to be wise and just, and on the other hand the code of Draco to be unjust, and in all similar cases, there is an obvious implication, that justice is not necessarily identical with the mere requisition of government; that right is something above and beyond mere human law; revolving in a higher sphere; spreading abroad a light of its own, and holding all actions, all minds, all systems of government, and all laws amenable to itself.

It will be seen, that we bring the subject here to the test of the common feeling and the common sense of mankind. Although sound philosophy clearly asserts and confirms the doctrine of the immutability of moral distinctions, and wholly denies the opposite doctrine, that the distinction between