Thus, the axiom, "if equals be added to equals, the wholes will be equal," denotes an order of sequence, in respect to quantity.

Of the same nature are the laws of Chemistry. Such, for instance, is the law that, if soda be saturated with muriatic acid, the result will be common salt.

Thus, also, in Intellectual Philosophy. If a picture of a visible object be formed upon the retina, and the impression be communicated, by the nerves, to the brain, the result will be an act of perception.

The meaning of law, when referring to civil society, is substantially the same. It expresses an established order of sequence between a specified action, and a particular mode of reward or of punishment. Such, in general, is the meaning of law.

Moral Philosophy takes it for granted that there is in human actions a moral quality; that is, that a human action may be either right or wrong. Every one knows that we may contemplate the same action as wise or unwise; as courteous or impolite; as graceful or awkward; and, also, as right or wrong. It can have escaped the observation of no one, that there are consequences distinct from each other, which follow an action, and which are connected, respectively, with each of its attributes. To take, for instance, a moral quality. Two men may both utter what is false; the one intending to speak the truth, the other intending to deceive. Now, some of the consequences of this act are common to both cases, namely, that the hearers may, in both cases, be deceived. But it is equally manifest, that there are also consequences peculiar to the case in which the speaker intended to deceive; as, for example, the effects upon his own moral character, and upon the estimation in which he is held by the community. And thus, in general, Moral Philosophy proceeds upon the supposition that there exists in the actions of men a moral quality, and that there are certain sequences connected by our Creator with the exhibition of that quality.

A moral law is, therefore, a form of expression denoting an order of sequence established between the moral quality of actions, and their results.

Moral Philosophy, or Ethics, is the science which classifies and illustrates moral law.

Here it may be worth while to remark, that an order of sequence established, supposes, of necessity, an Establisher. Hence Moral Philosophy, as well as every other science, proceeds upon the supposition of the existence of a universal cause, the Creator of all things, who has made every thing as it is, and who has subjected all things to the relations which they sustain. And hence, as all relations, whether moral or physical, are the result of His enactment, an order of sequence once discovered in morals, is just as invariable as an order of sequence in physics.

Such being the fact, it is evident, that the moral laws of God can never be varied by the institutions of man, any more than the physical laws. The results which God has connected with actions, will inevitably occur, all the created power in the universe to the contrary notwithstanding. Nor can these consequences be eluded or averted, any more than the sequences which follow by the laws of gravitation. What should we think of a man who expected to leap from a precipice, and, by some act of sagacity, elude the effect of the accelerating power of gravity? or, of another, who, by the exercise of his own will, determined to render himself imponderable? Every one who believes God to have established an order of sequences in morals, must see that it is equally absurd, to expect to violate, with impunity, any moral law of the Creator.

Yet men have always flattered themselves with the hope that they could violate moral law, and escape the consequences which God has established. The reason is obvious. In physics, the consequent follows the antecedent, often immediately, and most commonly after a stated and well known interval. In morals, the result is frequently long delayed; and the time of its occurrence is always uncertain. Hence, "because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the hearts of the sons of men are fully set in them to do evil." But time, whether long or short, has neither power nor tendency to change the order of an established sequence. The time required for vegetation, in different orders of plants, may vary; but yet

wheat will always produce wheat, and an acorn will always produce an oak. That such is the case in morals, a heathen poet has taught us:

A higher authority has admonished us, "Be not deceived; God is not mocked; whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." It is also to be remembered, that, in morals as well as in physics, the harvest is always more abundant than the seed from which it springs.

SECTION II.

WHAT IS A MORAL ACTION?

Action, from actum, the supine of the Latin verb ago, I do, signifies something done; the putting forth of somet power.

But under what circumstances must power be put forth, in order to render it a moral action?

1. A machine is, in common conversation, said to be powerful. A vegetable is said to put forth its leaves, a tree to bend its branches, or a vine to run towards a prop; but we never speak of these instances of power, as actions.

2. Action is never affirmed, but of beings possessed of a will; that is, of those in whom the putting forth of power is immediately consequent upon their determination to put it forth. Could we conceive of animate beings, whose exertions had no connection with their will, we should not speak of such exertions as actions.

3. Action, so far as we know, is affirmed only of beings possessed of intelligence; that is, who are capable of comprehending a particular end, and of adopting the means necessary to accomplish it. An action is something done; that is, some change effected. But man effects change,

only by means of stated antecedents. An action, therefore, in such a being, supposes some change in view, and some means employed for the purpose of effecting it.

We do not, however, affirm this as essential. Suppose a being so constituted as to be able to effect changes without the use of means; action would then not involve the necessity of intelligence, in the sense in which it is here explained. All that would be necessary, would be the previous conception of the change which he intended to effect.

4. All this exists in man. He is voluntary and intelligent, capable of foreseeing the result of an exertion of power, and that exertion of power is subject to his will. This is sufficient to render man the subject of government. He can foresee the results of a particular action, and can will, or not will, to accomplish it. And other results can be connected with the action, of such a nature, as to influence his will in one direction or in another. Thus, a man may know that stabbing another will produce death. He has it in his power to will or not to will it. But such other consequences may be connected by society with the act, that, though on many accounts he would desire to do it, yet, on other and graver accounts, he would prefer not to do it. This is sufficient to render man a subject of government. But is this all that is necessary to constitute man a moral agent; that is, to render him a subject of moral government?

May not all this be affirmed of brutes? Are they not voluntary, and even, to some extent, intelligent agents? Do they not, frequently, at least, comprehend the relation of means to an end, and voluntarily put forth the power necessary for the accomplishment of that end? Do they not manifestly design to injure us, and also select the most appropriate means for effecting their purpose? And can we not connect such results with their actions, as shall influence their will, and prevent or excite the exercise of their power? We do this, whenever we caress or intimidate them, to prevent them from injuring us, or to excite them to labor. They are, then, subjects of government, as truly as man.

Is there, then, no difference between the intelligent and voluntary action of a brute, and the moral action of a man? Suppose a brute and a man both to perform the same action; as, for instance, suppose the brute to kill its offspring, and the man to murder his child. Are these actions of the same character? Do we entertain the same feelings towards the authors of them? Do we treat the authors in the same manner, and with the design of producing in them the same result?

I think no one can answer these questions in the affirmative. We pity the brute, but we are filled with indignation against the man. In the one case, we say there has been harm done; in the other, injury committed. We feel that the man deserves punishment: we have no such feeling towards the brute. We say that the man has done wrong; but we never affirm this of the brute. We may attempt to produce in the brute such a recollection of the offence, as may deter him from the act in future; but we can do no more. We attempt, in the other case, to make the man sensible of the act as wrong, and to produce in him a radical change of character; so that he not only would not commit the crime again, but would be inherently averse to the commission of it.

These considerations are, I think, sufficient to render it evident, that we perceive an element in the actions of men, which does not exist in the actions of brutes. What is this element?

If we should ask a child, he would tell us that the man knows better. This would be his mode of explaining it.

But what is meant by knowing better? Did not the brute and the man both know that the result of their action Iwould be harm? Did not both intend that it should be` harm? In what respect, then, did the one know better tnan the other?

I think that a plain man or a child would answer, the man knew that he ought not to do it, and that the brute did not know that he ought not to do it; or he might say, the man knew, and the brute did not know, that it was wrong; but whatever terms he might employ, they would