mine the preference of truth to falsehood, of piety to blasphemy, of humanity and justice to cruelty and blood.

This, we believe, is an impartial exhibition of the grounding principle of that philosophy, which can be distilled from almost every page of Dr. Paley's celebrated work on morals, and which forms the glory of the plan by which Bentham and his disciples would regenerate the world. We do not propose

now to call in question the specific rules, which this system may prescribe for the regulation of our conduct. He might even admit that these rules, so far as they respect the outward conduct, are identical with those furnished in the Scriptures, or in any other moral code. What we object to here, is the spirit of the system-the motive on which it makes virtue dependent. We contend, that in resolving all duty or virtue into self-love, it strips it of its dignity-debases our moral sentiments, and offers violence to fundamental notions of the human mind. And we propose farther to show, that the system has never prevailed in any country or at any age without tending to the subversion of morality and order. Man is sufficiently sordid from the impulse of his passions. He needs no aid from philosophy to render him sordid on principle and selfish by rule.

Our first remark on this system is, that it confounds virtue with prudence. This is virtually acknowledged by Paley, who states that the only difference between an act of prudence, and an act of virtue is, that in the one case we have respect to the happiness of this life alone, whereas in the other, we consider also, what we shall gain or lose in the world to come -a difference, be it observed, for which there is no place in the minds of those who do not admit that there is a world to come; and which disappears in practice, we apprehend, from the minds of most, if not all, who adopt the system. In truth it is simply a verbal difference. If the mere fact, that an action is useful to the agent, be sufficient to constitute it a virtuous action, it can matter little whether the benefit be of shorter or of longer duration. It follows then, in fact, that prudence is virtue, and that the highest virtue is the highest prudence. If a capitalist makes a wise investment, or a merchant projects a judicious and successful voyage, we may term these respectively a virtuous voyage, and a virtuous investment; just as Bentham was wont when he spoke of good mutton, to call it virtuous mutton, and when he petted his favorite animal (a deer) to style it his virtuous deer. If on the other hand, the same man performs some noble deed of

See Neal's Biog. Notice of J. Bentham.

patriotism or philanthropy-some act in which seeming to forget himself, he toils and sacrifices only for the benefit of others -why he is merely a prudent man, who uses the means of happiness entrusted to him.

For example, Sir Thomas More, after a year's imprisonment, and when enfeebled by suffering, is offered permission to return to his wife and children whom he loved so tenderly-to the intellectual pursuits in which he took such delight-to the summit of greatness from which he had been plucked down, if he will but sacrifice a scruple of conscience. He indignantly refuses and prefers rather to perish on a scaffold; and he, on this system, is but a prudent man, who has a proper understanding of his interest! Lafayette, a husband and a father-with every thing in certain prospect or in actual possession that the highest ambition could crave or the warmest sympathies desire, surrenders all-hurries to the aid of a distant and almost hopeless cause, and offers, not only without regret, but with exultation, the endearments of domestic life and the favors of his prince in exchange for toil and danger in behalf of suffering strangers and he too, is but a prudent man! The great Washington tears himself from the peaceful and honored shades of Mount Vernon, assumes reluctantly a command more fearful perhaps than was ever before entrusted to man-a command which puts at peril his fame, his fortune and his head. Campaign after campaign he toils almost without resources, loaded down with responsibility, the object of machinations at home, and of deadly hostility abroad;-and at length, when victory is achieved his country independent-his name on every tongue, hastening to lay down his command, he escapes from the thanksgivings and honors of his grateful country to the silence of his home; and this is but prudence! and through all this career of seeming glory there has been but the shrewd calculations of an exclusive self-love.

It would be easy to multiply such examples. What shall we say of Howard, leaving a home of opulence and ease that he might dwell" in the depths of dungeons and amidst the infection of hospitals." What of the soldier of the cross as bidding farewell to the scenes of his childhood and the land of his fathers-rupturing the ties of affection--counting not his life dear unto himself, he goes out to gather amidst malignant gales and in savage wildernesses a harvest for his Lord? What of that Lord himself, as he comes forth from the glory of universal empire, and clothes himself in human form, and becomes a man of sorrows and consents at last to die in agony for the rescue of the guilty and the vile? Is there nothing here but prudence?

Is it all self-seeking? Has there been no principle-no patriotism-no philanthropy-no love of liberty-no disinterested zeal for God and man? Then we say, let history be rewritten, that it may strip these pretenders of their factitious greatness. Let the Evangelists and the Acts of the Apostles, too, be revised, that they may no longer tell of benevolence and zeal-that they may record of Peter and James and John,-when they appear before us rejoicing that they are reckoned worthy to suffer for the name of Jesus-when they resolve that, in spite of the decrees of councils and the madness of mobs, they will still publish the things that they have seen and heard-when they go from city to city smiling on the rage of persecutors, lifting their warning voice in the presence of rulers, and making the very prisonhouse vocal with their songs;-let the historian, amended and corrected by the Utilitarian, tell us that, after all, these were but men who had a keen eye to their own interest and were in quest of honor and reward! In quest of honor and reward they doubtless were. That they had no thought of these, or that they were not, in truth, advancing their highest happiness by this very self-devotion, is not pretended. But was this all? Their happiness, they had a right to think of! To neglect, or madly trifle with it is alike folly and guilt. But did they think of nothing else? Was it by dwelling exclusively and intently on their own interest, that they were moved to tears and sympathy-that they were nerved to deeds of self-sacrifice-that their hearts were made to bleed for the sins and sufferings of distant strangers and benighted heathen? Or is it in man, when engrossed with himself and thinking not of others, to rise to the stature of such deeds, and write his name high and bright among the benefactors of his race. Surely this life must be a delusionhistory a romance-the Holy Evangelists but a tissue of fables, or else the philosophy in question is false.

And yet further. This philosophy not only confounds virtue with prudence. It goes so far as to confound it even with vice, to abolish all intelligible distinction between right and wrong, and place them before us on the same moral level. For what, according to the Utilitarian is virtue? It is a wise forecast and calculation respecting our own happiness. And what is vice? It is an unwise calculation and forecast in regard to the very same thing. To both the virtuous and vicious man is presented the same object to be pursued from the same motive, and the only conceivable difference is one of degree, not of kind. one looking for happiness rises to justice and beneficence—the other in quest of the same end descends to deeds of infamy and guilt. Where is there room for that vast and radical distinction

The

which we are accustomed to make, for that deep and heartfelt reverence on the one hand, or for that intense disapprobation and displeasure on the other? Is a mere "error in arithmetic "— a mere mistake in the computation of gain and loss such an enormous crime that it ought to kindle indignation; or is simple "expertness in posting and balancing the moral ledger," in anticipating the chances of a given adventure, an achievement so lofty, that it ought to bow down our souls in admiration? On the supposition that this system is true, where is there room for the exercise of moral esteem and reverence, or for those sentiments of contempt and reprobation which we feel at the sight of the seducer and oppressor? And the guilty man himself, when he takes a review of his life and finds he has been an extortioner, a sensualist, a blasphemer, what occasion has he for that remorse with which he is wont to goad himself? At the worst he has but calculated badly-made an unwise speculation for which he may well feel regret—but should suffer no remorse. Once admit the principle that man acts and ought to act only from a regard to his own happiness, be it in this or in a future world, and it must be followed out till there remains no place for moral distinctions. Duty sinks till it becomes synonimous with prudence, virtue with skill, vice with error, remorse with regret, and indignation with pity.

There is yet another objection. Dr. Paley, as we have seen, admits the Divine will to be our rule of duty, and inculcates implicit obedience. But on what ground does he do so? Is it on the ground that God has a moral right to our obedience-that as our creator and best benefactor-as the source and centre of all excellence, he merits and should receive the deepest homage of our gratitude and esteem? Far from it. We are not obliged, on his principles, to cherish one sentiment of gratitude, or of reverence. "Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart," merely means, in this school, "be very careful not to incur his displeasure? He has at his disposal, your eternal well-being— be extremely cautious lest you provoke him to make it a sacrifice!" Such caution is doubtless proper. It is enjoined in one sense by all the sacred writers and by Christ himself. It shows the expediency of consulting the Divine will. But is it the ground on which they rest the duty of obedience. Is it the great informing principle of their morality-the source whence they deduce the authority and the obligations of religion? In other words, is the government of God built on the mere basis of power, and not of right, so that we are called to submit, not because we ought, but because we must? Such is indeed the view which these speculations seem to take; and it may assist

us in forming a proper estimate of the system, when we thus find it blotting from the divine character all moral attributes, such as justice and holiness-holding up his Omnipotence as the only proper object of regard-representing his commands as merely arbitrary decrees, and our own moral notions as little better than fictions of law.

We have thus considered the violence which this theory offers, as well to language as to our moral notions, and the debasing views which it takes of the whole subject of duty and religion. We proceed to speak of its history.

To ascertain its legitimate influence, we should look, not at its first teachers and masters, but at its disciples. Paley, a philanthropist and a Christian-reared under the wholesome morality of the Bible, might adopt such a theory in after life, might inculcate and apply it throughout a volume, and yet feel little of its influence in practice. And it is a fact worthy of remark, that the same writer, who in his Moral Philosophy, comes to the conclusion that there is in man no conscience or moral sense which can be distinguished from prejudice and habit, declares, when he turns from his speculations to the practical labors of the ministry, and addresses his hearers in regard to their eternal concerns, that "conscience, our own conscience, is to be our guide in all things," and that it is "through its whisperings that the Spirit speaks to man.' So Bentham, Rochefocault, Epicurus, might embrace this philosophy in the regions of speculation, and yet hold it with many saving clauses, and in private life commend themselves as honest, amiable and philanthropic. But what has been its effect on those who have imbibed it early in life; who have carried it forth, not as a system to be defended, but as a principle to be acted upon-who in adopting its leading doctrines have lost sight of conditions that modify, refine, and spiritualise it-who have been accustomed to appeal to it in the hour of temptation, and amidst the tumults of a corrupt and corrupting world? What indeed must be the influence and tendency of that system which teaches, that regard for our own happiness embraces the whole duty of man? We answer by adducing facts, and the authority of some of the best and wisest men.

The severe and upright Romans first heard of this philosophy through ambassadors whom they had sent to Greece, or received from there. They listened to it with aversion and disgust. We are told that Fabriciust on his return from Epirus, whither he had been to treat for an exchange of prisoners, announced that he had heard, during his absence, of a new doctrine which was

*See Paley's Sermons. † Cic. de Senec.