maintained that nothing is either right or wrong in its own nature, but is made either the one or the other by the laws of the land: what they pronounce to be right is right, and what they pronounce to be wrong is wrong, without regard to anything else. This is a great fallacy. It is true that the laws of the land can make our conduct, considered in relation to those laws, very different from what it was before their enactment; but this is not because they can, by a direct operation, change virtue into vice or vice into virtue, but simply because they change the circumstances and relations under which that conduct exists. It is just as inconceivable that a mere human law can make an action either virtuous or vicious, while the circumstances under which it is performed remain the same, as that such a law can make black white, pleasure pain, truth falsehood, space time, a square a circle, or make anything else identical which is at the same moment and in its very nature diverse.-We stand here upon strong ground, because we go to the bottom; there is no mistake; the human mind must be demolished, and undergo a rebuilding and reconstruction before it can verify any other result. Such, at least, it seems to ourselves; but we willingly leave others to judge, while we proceed to other considerations. ◊ 288. The immutability of moral distinctions shown, secondly, from the terms and the structure of languages. (II.) The unchangeableness of rectitude and the immutability of moral distinctions is shown, in the second place, from the terms and the structure of all languages. -So far as we have been able to notice, those writers who object to the doctrine under consideration do for the most part resolve rectitude into some form of good and happiness on the one hand, or into some form of enactment and law on the other. This is the predominant direction and train of thought among them. But do the terms and the structure of the different languages which are spoken by men sustain this course? Certainly not. We are not ignorant that Horne Tooke, in his Diversions of Purley, has endeavoured to show, by etymological considerations, that the English word right is, in its oriVOL. II.-F F ginal import, synonymous with the words commanded or ordered. But the question is, not what is the derivation of the English word right, nor what was the specific import of its root, but what is its precise meaning at the present time? There certainly can be no great obscurity or misapprehension in regard to it; it is a word used by writers of no doubtful powers of discernment; it is often enough found in those great masters of pure English, Fox and Burke, Junius and Chatham. But while we assert that it is not obscure, we do not hesitate to admit that it is undefinable, which is necessarily the case when we consider that it is the name of a simple, inseparable element of thought. It nevertheless lies clear and distinct in every one's conceptions; and if, in consequence of its being the name of a simple idea, we cannot define what it is, we can unhesitatingly assert what it is not. And, accordingly, we do not hesitate to insist, that the term right is used at the present time as expressive of something distinct from mere personal good, interest, or happiness. On a multitude of occasions, men use the terms interest, personal good, and happiness as expressive of what, in their own opinion at least, is so far from being identical with right or justice, that it is at the very greatest remove from it. There are some men who have unceasingly pursued their interest all their days, and who, if interest and rectitude are identical, ought to be accounted exceedingly upright men, instead of being stigmatized by the unanimous voice of the public, as they very justly are, with the character of base, dishonest, and unrighteous. There is hardly any practical distinction so frequently made, and made with so good reason, too, as that of acting from views of interest in the shape of some personal good, and acting from views of right and duty. If men have occasion to intrust their property and the management of their affairs to others, they invariably make distinctions; they inquire as to traits of character; it is not enough to tell them that their proposed agents are men more or less influenced by views of interest; they wish to know, and are not often satisfied short of knowing, whether they are men of honesty, men of uprightIf they have occasion to address motives to their ness. fellow-men, in order to induce them to pursue a certain course, we again find them making distinctions, and addressing some motives to their views of interest, and, as a distinct consideration, addressing others to their convictions of rectitude. But it can hardly be considered necessary to give instances of what is so palpable in the transactions of the whole mass of society. What is true of the English language, what is true of the Latin—where we find the terms utile and honestum conveying what we express in English by the interested or beneficial and the upright-will undoubtedly be found to be true of all other languages, which are so far developed as to be anything like an adequate mirror of the perceptions and feelings of those who speak them. Men also universally make a distinction between what is right and what is merely ordered or commanded; between the legality of an action or course of action, and its moral rectitude, as we shall have occasion to remark more particularly hereafter.-Now it is to be kept in mind, that language, in its terms and in its structure, is an index, an expositor (and, perhaps, more completely so than almost anything else) of the opinions and belief of mankind. If it be indisputably true that men in all parts of the world use words with this distinction of meaning, we may look upon it as absolutely certain, that they suppose and fully believe that such a distinction actually exists. And this universality of belief, like everything else, must have its adequate cause; but we are unable to lay our hands on such a cause, except it be that the very structure and action of the human mind does of itself develope clear and abundant evidence of the distinction in question, marking out lucidly the province of rectitude or virtue, and separating it from that of every other possible motive. The human mind, in its structure and its original and natural action, cannot lie, if the God from whom it came is a God of truth; and constructed as it is, and acting as it does, if it clearly announces the distinction between rectitude on the one hand, and mere personal interest and mere authoritative command on the other (insulating it, and placing it on an immoveable basis of its own), then it is certainly true that such a distinction actually has place, and that there is truly such a separate, appropriate, and unchangeable position of virtue. 289. The immutability of moral distinctions shown, thirdly, from the operation of the passions of gratitude and anger. (III.) We have evidence, in the third place, of the independent and immutable nature of moral right, from the manner in which feelings of gratitude and anger are exercised in view of the reception of supposed benefits or injuries.-Men are so constituted that, if a favour is bestowed upon them, they are grateful for it. We do not assert that the exercise of gratitude always exists in different individuals with precisely the same degree of intensity, or that feelings of this kind may not in some cases be entirely subdued. But, as a general characteristic of human nature, it is true that gratitude follows favours or benefits bestowed. And, on the other hand, feelings of dissatisfaction and anger follow the infliction of injuries. The argument which we here offer depends upon the alterations which are found suddenly to take place in the exercise of these feelings. If, for instance, in some period of great misfortune and poverty, a stranger freely gives us a sum of money, and thereby relieves us from our distresses, we feel a degree of gratitude to him. We have received an essential benefit, and we cannot help feeling grateful. But if we shortly afterward discover that, in bestowing this gift, he was influenced exclusively by personal and selfish motives, by some anticipation of ultimate benefit to himself, our feelings of gratitude at once cease; it is impossible that we should be grateful to him under such circumstances. We very justly conclude that no moral merit attaches to him, in consequence of the bestowal of his gift, and that he has not the least possible claim upon us for feelings of that description. But it will be noticed, that we ourselves are just as much benefited by his gift as if he had bestowed 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 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 so. 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 favourable or unfavourable, 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 mere happiness and unhappiness, into mere good and evil, or into anything else. 290. Shown, in the fourth piace, by the character of the emotions, which arise in view of actual instances of right and wrong. (IV.) That there is an immutable standard of right and wrong, is shown, in the fourth place, by the existence and character of those emotions which are always found |