“Right, rectus,” says Webster, “straightness, rectitude;” which he explains to be conformity to rule or law, and that the will of God is the ultimate rule or law which determines the right or the wrong in all cases. Hence conformity to this rule is the generic idea of the right in itself, according to Webster. In this view, Horne Tooke, in his Diversions of Purley, concurs. As his criticism is ingenious, instructive, and generally truthful, I quote the more material portion of his article on rights. After telling us in his dialogue that Johnson only informs us that right is not wrong, and wrong is not right, he adds:

“H. Right is no other than Rectum, (regetum,) the past participle of the Latin verb regere, etc.

“In the same manner, our English word just is the past participle of the verb jubere.

“Decree, Edict, Statute, Institute, Mandate, Precept, are all past participles.

“F. What then is law?

“H. It is merely the past tense and past participle of the Gothic and Anglo-Saxon verb which means something or any thing laid down as a rule of conduct. Thus when a man demands his right, he asks only that which it is ordered he shall have. A right conduct is that which is ordered: a right reckoning is that which is ordered: a right line is that which is ordered or directed, (not a random extension, but) the shortest between two points: the right road is that ordered to be passed (for the object you have in view:) to do right is to do that which is ordered to be done: to be in the right is to be in such situation or circumstances as are ordered: to have right or law on one’s side is to have in one’s favor that which is ordered or laid down: a right and just action is such an one as is ordered and commanded: a just man is such as he is commanded to be—qui leges juraque servat—who observes and obeys the things laid down or commanded; and the right hand is that which custom and those who have brought us up have ordered or directed us to use in preference, when one hand only is employed; and the left hand is that which is leaved, left, or which we are taught to leave out of use on such occasions. So that left, you see, is also a past participle.

“F. Every thing, then, that is ordered and commanded is right and just?

“H. Surely; for that is only affirming that what is ordered and commanded, is ordered and commanded.

“F. Now what becomes of your vaunted rights of man? According to you, the chief merit of man is obedience; and whatever is ordered and commanded is right and just. This is pretty well for a democrat. And those have always been your sentiments?

“H. Always; and those sentiments confirm my democracy.

“F. Those sentiments do not appear to have made you very conspicuous for obedience. There are not a few passages, I believe, in your life, where you have opposed what was ordered and commanded. Upon your principles, was that right?

“H. Perfectly.

“F. How now! Was it ordered and commanded that you should oppose what was ordered and commanded! Can the same thing be at the same time both right and wrong?

“H. Travel back to Melinda, and you will find the difficulty easily solved.” (The people of Melinda are all left-handed, i. e., their right is our left. But they are as right-handed as we are; for they use that hand in preference which is ordered by their custom, and is therefore their right hand, and leave out of employ the other, which is, therefore, their left hand.) “A thing may be at the same time both right and wrong, as well as right and left. It may be commanded to be done and commanded not to be done. The law—that which is laid down—may be different by different authorities.

“I have always been most obedient when most taxed with disobedience. But my right hand is not the right hand of Melinda. The right I revere is not the right ordered by sycophants: the jus vagum, the capricious command of princes or ministers. I follow the law of God, (what is laid down by him for the rule of my conduct,) when I follow the laws of human nature: which without any human testimony we know must proceed from God; and upon these are founded the rights of man, or what is ordered for man. I revere the constitution and constitutional laws of England, because they are in conformity with the laws of God and nature; and upon these are founded the rational rights of Englishmen. If princes, or ministers, or the corrupt sham-representatives of the people, order, command, or lay down any thing contrary to that which is ordered, commanded, or laid down by God, human nature, or the constitution of this government, I will still hold fast by the higher authorities. If the meaner authorities are offended, they can only destroy the body of the individual, but never can affect the right, or that which is ordered by their superiors.”[5]

Thus he is found to agree with Webster, that the will of God is the ultimate genus of the right. That is right, which conforms to the will of God as laid down in law—whether that law be a written revelation, nature, or the customs of society, (as in the case of the right and left hand,) as the exponent of that will—they are what is ordered in the case, and make the right. Hence he condemns as “wretched mummery” the distinction admitted by M. Portalis, between obedience to a command, and obedience to what is right and just in itself, and, on the same ground, pronounces it “highly improper” to say, with Mr. Locke, “God has a right to do it: we are his creatures.” For truly if his will be the ultimate genus of right, then he can have no rights, for there is certainly no superior to whose commands he conforms in the acts of his will. But precisely at this point let us take our stand. I affirm on the authority of Scripture, no less than sound philosophy, (always in harmony,) that God has rights, and that the distinction of M. Portalis is in many instances correct; and that hence Tooke, Dr. Paley, (who also concurs in this view—see his article Rights, in his Moral Philosophy,) Dr. Webster, with many others of great distinction, strangely err, not in their etymology of this word, but in that hypothesis by which they make it a significate of the will of God. We cannot agree with them that rights and duties which are reciprocal, are resolvable only into the will of God—have his will alone for their ultimate foundation. I take ground back of this. True, I say with them—and I claim full credit in the declaration—that the volitions, the acts of God, are always right; but I do not say that his will makes the essential or true distinction between right and wrong. We dare not assume that God, could, by an act of volition, make the right to be the wrong, and the wrong to be the right—good evil, and evil good! It is absurd to assume that God can do things that are in themselves contradictory. Omnipotent, we know, he is; but such things are not the objects of power, any more than things which are the objects of power, are, in the same sense, the objects of Omniscience. To affirm that he could make the right to be the wrong, is as false as it would be impious to affirm that he would do it, if he could—false, because, if he can, he has not deposited the truth in that great master-work of his hand, the mind of man; for, by the power of the intuition he has given us, we are assured that the idea is in itself a gross absurdity. And if this be not decisive of the question, then neither intuition nor the deductions of intuition are of any authority. Man is the victim of a false guide within! He may “eat and drink, for to-morrow he dies!” There will be no more of him; or, what is worse, he is but a link in a chain of sentient beings who are governed by a cruel fate, which regards not the distinctions of right and wrong; and he may be the sport of wickedness in the world to come, as he has been the victim of deception in this! I think it more than error to reason thus! I think it profane!

We may take ground back of this—ground as honorable to God as it is exalting to man and encouraging to his hopes. It is true, that both rectitude and duty, together with liberty, are resolvable into the essential good. Or, in other words, freedom, rectitude, and duty are the modes of thought in which we conceive of the good as existing in the soul of man, and that they are, each of them, in their distinct nature and harmonious union, the true ideal of the good—the modes of thought, also, in which the intuition of man perceives the good in the case of every moral action which is good. And concerning the good in itself, which is thus in an humble degree perceived by us, it is certainly a reality which is immutable and eternal. God did not make it—nor was it made. It is of the essential nature of God, and eternal. He is the great impersonation of the good. His will, his volitions, in all cases, are but the expressions of this high attribute. His will, therefore, always conforming to the essential good, is a perfect rule of what is right in itself, and proper to be observed by us, as a rule of duty or conduct. Such a rule, it will be seen, is eminently adapted to the wants of humanity; but, at the same time, his will and the good are different realities. The one is an essential quality of his holy nature, and the other is, to a certain extent, an expression of this attribute in the form of volitions. That the will of God did not make the right in itself, will readily appear. Is it to be conceived that there ever was a period in eternity past, when truth was not truth, or when truth did not exist? when the good was not the good, or when the good did not exist? But does it not accord with the clearest teachings of reason, that the truth always was the truth, and ever will be the truth? that the good always will be the good? That two and two are equal to four; that to affirm a thing to be and not to be at the same time is an absurdity and a contradiction; and that things equal to one and the same thing are equal to one another, we say are all intuitive truths—we cannot be mistaken about them. So also in morals: that the truth is good; that virtue is good; that a good action is not an evil action; and that to affirm that a good action is not a good action is an absurdity, a contradiction, we say, are all intuitions—we cannot be mistaken about them. But is it not equally intuitive that these things were always so—that these truths were always truths—the good was always the good, just as certainly as that they are so now? Then the eternity of these things is just as certainly an intuition, as that they exist now is an intuition. Hence the eternity of God, who is the great impersonation of this high quality, or whose attribute it is, is an intuitive truth. Hence his will did not make it, for it is absurd to say that he made himself. His will, therefore, which, in given cases, is his volition, is but the expression of this essential quality of his holy nature. Hence his will is a rule of right, because in all cases it conforms to the good, but it did not make the good.

Therefore the right, as it conforms to the essential good, is of the nature of the good. It is properly a significate of the good, and not a significate of the will of God. Things agreeing with one and the same thing agree with each other. Hence it coincides with the will of God. But such coincidence does not constitute any thing right in itself; but it is because, like the will of God, it conforms to, or is of the nature of, the essential good, that it is right. The right then, in itself, is the good. The good is the true generic idea which classifies all the different applications of this term. So far as any thing is of the nature of the good, it is in itself right. So far as any thing, to which the idea of the right applies, is negative of the good, i. e., is evil, it is wrong.

The good, therefore, as an ultimate genus, is much more extensive in meaning than the right. It extends to all physical as well as moral good. Our subject requires us to consider it only so far as it applies to humanity. And how far is this? When Jehovah created man, he pronounced him to be “very good,” i. e., essentially good in the attributes of his nature. He was created in “his own image: in the image of God created he him.” “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” That is, he was created a pure spiritual intelligence. He had a clear and correct perception and judgment of pure abstract truth, and of the relations of truth; with the corresponding feelings of obligation to duty, and a power of will sufficient to control the mental states within the sphere of its operations. Now, as a pure intelligence, thus endowed, he is within the limits of his capacity a cause within himself—strictly a self-acting agent, and hence accountable. And as he was created with a feeling of obligation to observe the good as a rule in all his conduct, he was created a subject of duty—he was under obligation to do, to act; and as in each of these respects, and in all others, he was created in conformity with the essential good, he was rectus, right. All this is implied in that declaration of his essential nature, as a pure spiritual intelligence, (who was therein made in the image of God,) which defined him to be “very good.” Nor can we think of this good as a quality or attribute of humanity, without being conscious, if we reflect closely, of associating in our minds the idea that the being who personates it is for that reason free; that for that reason he is rectus, straight, conformed to the good as the rule, that is, right; and that for the same reason he is under obligation—it is his duty to act according to that rule. Every instance of moral action that is good implies these ideas: it is free, it is rectus, straight, and it is done in accordance with duty. In the same sense in which life, sense, and motion enter into and so form the comprehension of the creature, animal; so liberty, rectitude, and duty form the comprehension of moral good, so far as it applies to humanity. These are distinct ideas. Still they coincide, and either implies the others as correlatives. Hence we say of a free action that it is good, implying that it is at the same time rectus, and done in accordance with duty; and of an action in conformity to a proper rule, that it is good, implying at the same time that it is free, and done in accordance with duty; and also of an action in compliance with duty, that it is good, implying that it is also free, and straight, i. e., conformed to rule: thus in each case we imply the correlative ideas.

Now, whatever is in my possession by natural endowment is mine, in the strictest sense. Hence, freedom is mine, duty is mine, and rectitude is mine, because the good is mine, and those are the elements of the good, each one implying the others.

Hence arises the idea of natural right: that is, the right with which I am endowed by the constitution of my nature as a rational being. But what is that right? Evidently, the good. The good as an attribute is in my possession. I am constituted with it and by it. Hence it is inalienable. Divest me of the good as an attribute of my nature, i. e., liberty, rectitude, and duty, and I sink at once in the scale of being: I cease altogether to be a rational or accountable being.

Let no one imagine that this position conflicts with the well-known fact that man is a fallen being. For although fallen, he is still accountable. True, his moral nature is in ruins, but still it is a moral nature. Though disordered, it is not eradicated. Hence the restoration by grace is called a conversion; but if the essential moral nature of man had been destroyed by the fall, and an attribute of essential evil had taken the place of it, his restoration could not be called, as it is, a change, but should be called in the strictest sense an original creation. Hence, although man is fallen, depraved—and we need not object to the strong terms in which this depravity is usually expressed—still we find that the sentiment of all mankind is on the side of virtue, on the side of the good; and that men, though unchanged by sovereign grace, are still required to be honest, gentlemanly, and in all things regardful of each other’s rights. We admit of exceptions or modifications of this only in the case of those in whom humanity has not been fully developed, as before noticed, and those in civilized life who have so far abused their moral nature as, in the language of Paul, to fit themselves for destruction. Therefore, it still remains that the good in the form of rectitude, right, is in some modification an endowment of my nature: the right, in itself, is mine by nature.

But the good, as an attribute, is an active principle. We were endowed with it for the purpose of movement—for results. It is my duty to act right—straight, or in accordance with the good as a rule. Hence, whatever is a necessary condition of the operation of this active principle, the essential good, is in itself a good which is either in my possession, and hence is mine by possession; or it ought to be in my possession, and hence is mine by just title. Hence, to breathe, under all circumstances, together with all physical motion and the sustenance of the body, which involves the right of property to a certain extent, each in given circumstances, is the natural right of every one. So also the right of the embryo-man, the idiot, the imbecile, the uncivilized, or the savage, to protection and defence, is a natural right; and for the same reason, to be protected and defended from certain helpless conditions by others, is the natural right of every one in all states of humanity. Because each of these, and of all similar things, is in itself good, being a necessary condition of the operation of the essential good, and is either in our possession or ought to be in our possession; each one is also a natural right, the good that is or ought to be in our possession.

But there are acquired rights.

It is the duty of man to act, from the very fact that he is endowed with the attribute of the good, which envelops the idea of duty. He also has power to act from the very same natural constitution. Now, if he use this power as duty and rectitude indicate that he should do, all nature teaches, what the Bible confirms, that he will glorify God, i. e., exemplify his goodness, and therein promote his own happiness and the happiness of those with whom he is associated; or, in other words, he will secure for himself and confer upon his fellows eminent benefits resulting from the performance of his duty. Now, whatever results to him in this way is certainly his by possession, or by Divine grant, as much so as any natural right; but these benefits, being of the nature of the essential good, (for the reason that they are benefits, are in themselves right,) result to him in the performance of his duty, and therefore are his rights. But the acquisition is made to depend upon the exercise of his arbitrary volition. If he use this in pursuance of duty, they follow. If he use it in violation of duty, they do not follow. Hence, if he realize them at all, either by possession or by title, they are acquired, and therefore are acquired rights or benefits.

Therefore, acquired rights may be defined, such good, in the form of benefits or privileges, as results from the performance of duty. Logically, they belong to the class of the essential good called benefits or privileges, with the “essential difference” that they are such as result from the performance of duty. Any other result, though in itself of the nature of the essential good, yet, as it conferred no benefit, could not be said to be our right. Capital punishment, for example, when in accordance with the Divine will, is in itself of the nature of the essential good; still, it would be an abuse of language to say, in any ordinary case, that it was the right of the criminal to be hung! because for no reason that we can imagine does it confer any benefit or privilege upon the criminal. To be acquired rights, therefore, they must not only be of the nature of the good—that is, actual benefits—but this good must result from the performance of duty, and not from the non-performance of duty, as in the example given.

The definition corresponds with the language of common sense. All men, in speaking of cases which are supposed to involve the question of rights, employ the term in this sense. You say, of a farmer in a given case, that he had no right to an abundant harvest: why? because he neglected his farm: his lands were not properly prepared, and the growing crop was left open to depredations from stock: that is, he neglected his duty; he had no right to the benefit of an abundant harvest. And again, you say to a neighbor, You should have paid a certain sum of money to A., in a given case. He had a right to the money, because he complied with the conditions on which the money was to be paid. He did his duty, and therefore had a right to the money. Thus, the neglect of duty negatives right in the one case, and the performance affirms it in the other, according to the common usage of language.

Another idea which clearly enters into the common and correct use of this term is that it is reciprocal with obligation: that is, wherever there is a right in one person, there is a corresponding obligation, duty, upon others. If one man has a right to an estate, others are under obligation, that is, it is their duty, to abstain from it. If the letting of it alone be the result of duty on the part of others, the enjoyment of it by him must also result from duty on his part, or the ideas do not coincide: that which was duty in one set of men would not be duty in another, in regard to the same thing, and in correlative circumstances. This would be absurd: therefore, the duty of one set of men to let another alone in the enjoyment of a certain benefit, implies the correlative idea that they enjoy the benefit in virtue of doing their duty. Hence, those benefits which are our rights result to us from the performance of our duty.

The points established in this discussion are:

1. That conformity to what is ordered or commanded is not the true generic idea of the right in itself. What is ordered or commanded can only interpret the right, when the command itself conforms to the essential good, as in the case of the Divine will. This is always right, because it so conforms, or is always an expression of the essential good.

Hence, the good is the true generic idea of the right. This alone can interpret the right in any case. Therefore, although man, in virtue of his constitution as a pure intelligence, has the power to do wrong, he has not, and never can have, the right to do wrong. For wrong is the negative of right; and any thing, whether attribute, quality, opinion, doctrine, or act—every thing, whether moral or physical—to be right, must be of the nature of the good: all else is wrong, not right. And it further follows, that the only true subjective right which any man has to exercise his power of self-control, is in doing that which is good, and not in doing that which is evil.

2. The natural rights of man are,

First—The essential good in his possession by natural endowment, and which is therefore inalienable. And, Second—The necessary conditions, whatever they may be, of the operation of the inherent good as an active principle. Some of these are inalienable, and others are alienable. To this view of natural rights the common usage of language conforms.

3. The acquired rights of man are, such good, in the form of benefits or privileges, as results to him from the performance of duty.

LECTURE V.
THE DOCTRINES OF RIGHTS APPLIED TO GOVERNMENT.

Government, human as well as Divine, is a necessity of man’s fallen condition—All men concur in this—Man did not originate government: he has only modified the form—The legitimate objects of government, and the means which it employs to effect these objects—The logical inferences: 1. Although he has the power, he has no right to do wrong; 2. As a fallen being, he is, without a government over him, liable to lose the power of self-control—What are the rights of man: 1. In a state of infancy; 2. In a state of maturity; and, 3. In a savage or uncivilized state—Civil government is not founded on a concession of rights.

Philosophers, it seems to me, strangely overlook the tendency of man’s fall to modify the operation of the laws of mind; and those who admit the fall still overlook this fact, that the depravity of man’s nature was the result of deprivation, and not the infusion of an evil principle as an attribute of his nature. But it is not with the theology of this subject that we are now dealing. The fact that, as a fallen being, he was deprived of the immediate presiding influence of the Divine Spirit, is the matter that more immediately engages our attention. His lower physical nature, the great medium of the soul’s communication with the outward world, and of consciousness in the embodied state, originally operated in perfect and harmonious subordination to his higher spiritual nature. In this condition, his appetites, propensities, and passions presented no bar to his happiness, or to that of his fellows. The government or control which his situation demanded, we may suppose, was simple, and concerned chiefly his relation to the Deity. But when, on the great occasion of his trial, he exercised his power of self-action, and exalted this nature as a rule of moral action, instead of the essential good of his higher nature, of which the will of God in the given case was the full and just exponent, there resulted a deprivation of the Divine Spirit, such as entirely changed the relation of those departments of his nature. Under the clouded condition of intellect consequent upon this deprivation, his lower nature, with its appetites, propensities, and passions, is brought into constant and fierce conflict with his spiritual nature. This change in the condition of his humanity presents his case in an aspect altogether new. The history of each individual man becomes the history of a warfare—a warfare with himself, and a warfare with his fellows. With a highly vigorous moral nature, he is also the subject of a carnal or depraved nature. In this state of things, government becomes an actual necessity of his condition. The Divine government, with all the aids and appliances afforded by the grand scheme of atonement, must appeal to his passions, both of hope and of fear. For it is only by reducing his lower nature to its originally subordinate and harmonious position that an equilibrium will be established, and his primordial happiness regained. But the Divine government, though operating in harmony with the claims of his moral nature, and founded upon the relation which he sustains to Jehovah, and indispensable to his happiness here and hereafter, of itself alone does not meet a great many of the immediate demands of his condition. Hence the statement of Solomon: “Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.” The consequences of obedience, high and holy as they are, and the consequences of disobedience, great and terrible as they are, are too remote from man, in many states of intellect and feeling in which he often places himself, to meet the immediate demands of his nature. Hence, that modification of government called civil government, is no less demanded by the necessities of his condition than the Divine.

Civil government deals chiefly with the relations of man to his fellow-man. It coincides with the Divine government. They each aim at the control of the lower nature of man, and the development of his higher nature. The means they employ are the same in principle. They address the same passions. The rewards and punishments of the one are in this life, and of the other chiefly in the life to come. Withal, the civil has the sanction of the Divine, and the Divine should always have the sanction of the civil, government. But still they are entirely distinct, and should not be confounded either in theory or in practice. The one is secular, and the other is Divine.

Now, we say that civil government—for of that we are called more particularly to speak—is a necessity of man’s condition. It dates back as early as the creation of man. God himself established it in the law he gave to govern the first relation that existed on earth—the relation between Adam and his “helpmeet.” After the fall, a necessity arose which gave it a new and more important bearing. We soon see it ramifying itself through all society, and dealing with all the relations of life.

Its necessity and authority, as a great means of controlling the lower nature of man, is among the permanent beliefs of mankind. Neither legislators nor philosophers originated these beliefs. They are among the intuitions of man. The common judgment of mankind is not more assured that man exists, than that fallen man must be controlled in his appetites, propensities, and passions—the sum of what is often considered his interest and his happiness—by the physical powers of government. Each individual man feels that he needs its powerful sanctions to arm him against himself, when violently tempted to do wrong; and that he needs its sanctions to protect him from outrage and wrong from his fellow-men, when moved by similar forces. The instincts of animal nature are not more certain in their movements than are the intuitive perceptions and spontaneous feelings of mankind, causing them to lean upon the strong arm of civil government, to control the propensities and passions, and to promote the free exercise of the higher moral nature of man.

Government is the whole society in action. No people was ever known to exist for any definite period without government. Sometimes, it is true, the form has been the result of implied understandings among the people—as when “there was no judge in Israel:” at others, a master-spirit has assumed the reins, and been deferred to by common consent; and at others, it has been modified by formal processes—such as conventions and constitutions. Be this, however, as it may, government has always existed. Legislators did not make it. They have had much to do in modifying, directing, and often in corrupting the form; but nothing to do in originating government, in any proper sense of the term. It sprang spontaneously from the common sense of mankind. An agent indispensable to self-preservation was certainly coeval with the race.

In its true generic sense, that is, in a sense equally applicable to all forms, government is control by the authority of God and the people. God, in his word, declares the authority of the magistrate to be his ordinance; and this accords with the intuitive belief and feeling of necessity of all mankind: not that either approves in all cases of the form which government assumes, but that the generic principle, in all cases, has the sanction of each.

The legitimate object of government is to secure to the people the highest amount of freedom which their moral condition and relative circumstances will admit. The means which it employs to effect this object, are, 1. Suitable penalties, addressed to their hopes and fears, to lay them under such restraints as to the indulgence of their appetites, propensities, and passions, as thereby to prevent them from operating as a bar to the free exercise of their intellectual and moral powers in pursuit of the essential good; and, 2. The security which it offers to every man, in the exercise of the higher powers of his nature, that he may do it without restraint from the passions of men; or, in other words, to guarantee to every man the free exercise of his essential power to do good.

That both the object of government, and the means which it employs, are correctly stated, will not be disputed. All men concur in these views. They underlie all our opinions and reasonings on the subject of civil government. But in assenting to this much, (and how can it be avoided?) may we not stand committed to much more than many theoretical politicians are aware?

Let us trace the logical inferences which arise from the principles discussed.

I. Man, we find, is endowed with a self-acting power of will, which is called mental liberty, and hence he is accountable. For although it is admitted that there cannot be a volition without a motive, yet it is an idea inseparable from our notions of mental liberty, that there cannot be any thing in these motives necessitating the volition; for in that case it would not be free. But he is free to adopt either the right or the wrong motive of volition, and therefore he is accountable for his actions. Nor does it follow that this liberty confers the right to do wrong. His liberty, as we have shown, is to be understood in a sense agreeing with the coincident ideas of right and duty. We are all conscious, that so soon as we perceive the good, in any case, we have a feeling of obligation to observe it as the rule of conduct, and to avoid the contrary as wrong; that is, each man has a conscience. Hence, although man has the power to do wrong, he has no right to do wrong; but only a right to do that which is good. Such, and such only, is the true subjective right of self-control. It is not a right to do as we may please, unless we shall please to do that which, in itself, is right; that is, the good.

II. His fall, we have seen, has had the effect to place him in such circumstances, that the attributes of his lower nature, his appetites, propensities, and passions, often have such ascendency as motives of action, that he is always liable to do wrong. Many reasons, à priori, could be given for this. The mind is first brought into contact with the outward world through the bodily senses. They come first into play; and hence the natural sensibilities are first developed. The will, in the form of spontaneous volition, is accustomed, from earliest life, to act from these as a motive, for the reason that there is no other from which it can act. The pure intelligence, the percipient of the good, and the corresponding feelings of obligation, unfold themselves slowly; and long before it may be said that the mind is matured, the will is accustomed to make the natural sensibilities the motive of spontaneous volition. Now the will is, like all other faculties of the mind, subject to the great law of habit; and if not checked, restrained according to the true idea of government, a habit of submission is formed, which, if not early dissolved, becomes a confirmed habit. The will, instead of being the governing power of the mind, becomes, in truth, the faculty governed. It has lost the power of self-control. It has become the slave of passion—confirmed in the habit of submission. It is precisely at this point of mental degradation that Paul declares of “vessels of wrath,” those who have brought themselves into this state by their own act, that “they are fitted to destruction.” Now, in view of these facts and the principles already established, what are the rights of man?

First. In the state of infancy. It has been proved that the subjective endowments of humanity, and whatever is necessary to their existence and operation, are the natural right of man. That the undeveloped good is the endowment of this form of humanity will not be disputed: hence whatever is necessary to its existence and operation, is the natural right of infants. But it is obvious that a governing power, existing somewhere, is indispensably necessary in the case of the child; that is, a power must exist sufficiently potent to control the spontaneous volitions of the will, or, in the circumstances of its position, it will probably extinguish its own liberty, by the law of habit. Government, then,—absolute government,—is necessary to the existence and operation of the endowment of humanity in the state of infancy; and therefore absolute government is the natural right of the infant. Hence all civil governments have exercised (so far as the will and physical condition are concerned) an absolute despotism over the child, and have recognized the parent, or some one appointed in the place of the parent, as the agent of its functions in this respect. Not to accord to the infant this extreme form of control, would be a practical denial of its natural rights. Therefore this extreme form of despotism, so far from being a curse, is the natural right of infants—the good to which they are entitled by nature. And again, the civil government accords to the child a progressive modification of this form of government under given circumstances. It requires its agent to relax the stringency of this control, and to extend a privilege of self-control, in the ratio in which the pure intelligence and feelings of obligation or duty are practically developed. For a child who had become, to a certain extent, a subject of duty, and was disposed to fulfil this duty, but was kept, per force, in the physical condition of infancy until he lost the use of his limbs, would be considered as deprived of the right of self-control to that extent, and thereby cruelly treated. The agent in such a case would be severely punished, and the child committed to other hands.

Hence, in the ratio in which the pure intelligence is unfolded, and feelings of obligation arise, or conscience is developed, and becomes the practical rule of action, the individual acquires the right of self-control, and only in that ratio. This right may ultimately reach to all things in themselves good—the civil government always holding the authority to punish departures from duty, and thereby always abridging men of the moral power to do wrong, (because it never could be their right to do wrong,) and always fortifying them in the right exercise of liberty of will, by furnishing motives, addressed to their intelligence and passions, to observe the right and to avoid the wrong in the exercise of the volitive power. Therefore, the natural right of man is the right to such absolute control by others, in the earlier periods of his life, as that his will may retain its self-acting power unimpaired, as his mind is naturally unfolded by time and circumstances; and to such modification of this absolute control in after life, as may afford him due restraint under temptation to do wrong, and proper encouragement, at all times, to do right.

Second. The right of man in a state of maturity.

1. The government should accord him all his natural rights, and protect him in the exercise of the same. That is, the political government should coöperate with the Divine to preserve his will in its normal condition as a self-acting power, and to guarantee to him the exercise of this power of self-action in all things good. The man who is protected in the enjoyment of this inherent liberty of will, is a free man in the strictest sense of the word. The government over him may be concentrated in the hands of one man, or it may be divided among an aristocracy, more or less numerous, or it may be what is called a democracy, but this does not of itself affect the fact of his freedom. If the government secure him in the enjoyment of these rights, and of all which necessarily attaches to them, he is essentially free. The kind of government, as a hereditary monarchy, or a democratic republic, does not, of itself, determine the actual freedom of its subjects. History furnishes many examples of government in which the power of control was concentrated in the hands of but one, or of a few individuals, which afforded its subjects the highest amount of essential liberty. To this day, “the freedom of the British Constitution”—as much as we justly prefer our own—is by no means an idle boast. It is a great mistake to suppose that a government which deposits the sovereignty among the great mass of the people, is the only free government. We are constrained to acknowledge that it is better to be oppressed by one, or by a few tyrants, than by a multitude of tyrants. It is not this or that kind of government that makes the subject essentially free. But it is the fact that the controlling power, whether wielded by one or by many, secures each man in the enjoyment of his natural rights—affords him that system of appliances which develops and matures the self-acting power of his will—discourages all abuse of this power, and fully protects him in the proper exercise of it in the pursuit of the essential good. It is this that makes him free.

We prefer, for those to whom it is applicable, a democratic republic; because it is a more secure government, and less liable to an abuse of power; not because it is necessarily a more free government than any other. Another form of government may secure equal freedom in every essential particular; and this form may be as oppressive as any other; and whenever it is so, the condition of the down-trodden minority is far more hopeless than is that of the oppressed majority under some other form of government. Still, in certain conditions of the people, it is a much more secure form of government. The sovereigns of a state should always be socially equal, and, at the same time, honest as well as intelligent. Such rulers will not be oppressors. If the sovereigns of a democracy are intelligent, for the reason that but few participate directly and personally in the administration of government and the spoils of office, they have but few inducements to corruption, and are more likely to be honest. The mass of the people, though often wrong in opinion, are always right in sentiment—they mean to do right, and they desire to do right. If they do err in a given case, they may usually be set right, for they have no motive to stay wrong. Hence, we think that when the condition of intelligence is fulfilled in the case of those occupying a social footing, we may expect a wiser and purer government; whilst the extent to which they may participate in the affairs of government, giving it a firmer hold upon their affections, cannot fail to make it a more secure government. It is widely different in the case of a government concentrated in the hands of a few. The sovereigns are at the same time the administrators of law. They share not only the honors of sovereignty, but also the immediate profits of sovereignty—the spoils of office. Temptations to abuse power are always present and active. Hence we find that such governments are more frequently oppressive. Withal, even in cases in which they are not, (for they need not be,) for the reason that the mass of the people do not immediately participate in the affairs of government, they are not as devoted to its interests, and hence the government cannot be as secure. For these reasons, a democratic republic is called by way of eminence a free government; but, evidently, not because it is the only form which secures freedom to its subjects. Any of these forms are legitimate when they are so adapted to the condition of the people as to secure to them the highest amount of freedom of which that condition will admit.

2. The government should secure to him all his acquired rights, or the rights which he acquires by the proper use of his essential rights. Of these, we notice,

1. His rights of social equality with those with whom he holds common interests, pleasures, benefits, happiness, and duties. These rights usually vary with the condition of different individuals, or different classes of individuals. It will not be maintained that an infant or idiot, and a man of rude intellect and vulgar habits, have interests and duties common to each other, and common to persons in a different condition, in any such sense as would entitle them all to social equality. Both their mental and physical condition would be a bar to any such equality. So in the case of the sexes, difference in physical condition is a bar, except in the marriage state. So also certain races of men are by their physical condition barred from social equality, in many respects, with those of other races. Those duties required by one condition in order to attain the essential good are very different from those of another condition which are necessary to attain the same object. But the privilege of social equality with all in a similar condition, which results from the discharge of the duties of that condition, is the right of every one. Some will require positive law to secure them; as in the marriage relation, the social as well as other rights of the parties must be secured by law; whilst others will be better secured by leaving them to be regulated by the conventional usages of society—only another form of government. But there is an obvious difference in the social rights of men which government is bound to respect, unless it would arrest the progress of civilization; because it is an inequality founded in that difference of condition, against which no government can provide, nor was it intended that it should provide. We notice,

2. That government should secure to him all those political rights to which he is entitled by making a proper use of his essential rights.

We need not specify all the political rights which may be regarded acquired rights. It is sufficient to consider this topic in regard to the question of sovereignty. We say, that all the members of a given society, having a common interest in that society, are entitled to share the sovereignty of its government on certain conditions, and on no other conditions. We take the ground that mere humanity, in itself considered, does not entitle any one to the rights of political sovereignty. If this were so, we should be bound to place females, together with minors of both sexes, and the inmates of State prisons, among the sovereigns of society. They are all perfect specimens of humanity. Of the first it may be said, they are often equal in intellect with the other sex, and in other respects are generally superior specimens of humanity. These all have an interest in society common to all other members of it, and yet it is admitted that they should not be numbered among the sovereigns of the land. What is it, then, that entitles a man to the right of political sovereignty? First—He should have reached that point in mental development in which he will have a capacity, in common with others, to understand and appreciate the leading principles of government and their applications. Second—He should have reached that period in life in which there is usually a corresponding development of the moral sense—the feeling of obligation to do right—which affords a reasonable guaranty for the faithful application of his knowledge in discharging the duties of sovereignty. Third—He should be in that state of social equality which gives him a common interest, a common happiness, and common duties as a citizen, with other sovereigns, which will also afford a necessary guaranty for the faithful performance of his duties. And, Fourth—He should be in that physical condition, also, which is necessary to the duties of so responsible a position, under all ordinary circumstances. If one or more of these conditions exclude a whole sex, together with all minors, idiots, felons, and foreigners, they at the same time limit it to a definite class of males, and bar all others from any title to it. No sensible man would admit that the power of sovereign control inherent in government could, with safety to the only legitimate object of government, the happiness of the subjects, be deposited with any other class of men. But those who fulfil these conditions have a right to rule. They have acquired it by the performance of those duties which have elevated them to the condition of being qualified for sovereignty. It should not be withheld. If those in a society qualified for sovereignty be numerous, the government should take the popular form—a democratic republic. But if those qualified to rule are a limited portion of the whole society, some other form of government is more appropriate.

But our subject leads us to notice:

Third. The rights of man in the savage or uncivilized state.

No savage community was ever known to rise unaided to a state of civilization; and every example of savage society furnishes evidence that it is a state into which they have fallen by the tendencies of depraved nature. They are instances in which the government originally enjoyed—both human and Divine—has failed to preserve to the individual that liberty of will in the pursuit of the good which government is designed to secure. The pure intelligence is not sufficiently developed to constitute an enlightened conscience. Dwelling apart from civilized society, the absence of all the artificial wants of civilization is highly favorable to many of the natural virtues—such as hospitality to strangers, truth, fidelity, and generosity to their friends; but the undeveloped state of the pure reason leaves the moral sense in a state of so much immaturity, as to characterize them as unfaithful, cruel, and revengeful to their enemies. These are characteristics which, in their condition of physical maturity, make them terrible to their neighbors.

Now the question is, What are the rights of such a people? It is useless to discuss this question so far as it relates to mere savage government; for in this view it is a question of no interest. But the question, What rights can they claim of a civilized people? is the one with which we have to deal.

They certainly have a natural right to protection under given circumstances, and freedom from oppression under all circumstances. If a civilized people, holding a balance of power in virtue of superior intelligence, have an undisputed right to protect themselves from the cruelty and infidelity of neighboring savages, still it will be admitted that oppression in any proper sense of the term would be an invasion of their natural rights. They have a right to be left in the enjoyment of the highest amount of freedom which their mental state will allow them to use legitimately. And more than this, their natural rights claim for them reasonable exertions to elevate their moral condition. Hence the noble efforts now being made by the Christian people of this country to evangelize the savages on our border, and the no less commendable efforts of the United States government to favor this design, by an annual appropriation from the national treasury. All this is only according them their rights. But do these rights entitle them to claim social equality with a civilized people? That which it is the right of another to claim of me, it is my duty to grant. Is it then my duty to grant social equality to any or to every wandering savage that may chance to pass my dwelling? Should I not only extend to him the rights of hospitality due to a wandering savage—give him food and shelter in given circumstances, and treat him kindly in all respects—but extend to him true social equality, such as it is my duty to do to other men in certain states of civilization! No man—himself not a savage—would dare affirm this! The savage has no right to claim it. The reason is obvious on the principles discussed. Certain social rights arise only on certain conditions of moral development, and the fulfilment of the duties which attach to that state. The savage has not reached this condition; hence has not fulfilled its duties, and is not entitled to the right of social equality which attaches to that state. For a sensible man to affirm that he has this right in virtue of his mere humanity, would be simply ridiculous. And this being so, it follows, a fortiori, that it is much less our duty to allow him an equal participation in the sovereignty of the State—allow him a control in the affairs of government—share the authority to regulate our relations, domestic and foreign; and even to participate in governing our families.

The man who should gravely propose in Congress to annex the savage tribes of our border, as sovereign States of this Union, would, by all right-minded men, be regarded as insane. No one of the managers of looms, spindles, and other machinery, among the agrarian portion of our northern community, with all their boasted knowledge of the natural rights of man, and their readiness to accord equal rights to all men, and to protect them in asserting those rights, have, as yet, made up their minds to go thus far—although we may be at a loss to account for it that they so far falsify their principles as not to do so.

Now, as it is not our duty to do this in behalf of a neighboring race of uncivilized people, for the reason that they have no right to it, how does the question stand in regard to a numerous class of such persons, spread through a definite section of our country? Does this change of position and contact with civilization confer on them higher rights than it has already been admitted belong to them in a separate state in virtue of their humanity? Is it our duty to accord to them equality of political rights? and for the reason that they are diffused through the mass of society? Can this position be maintained? On the contrary, the change of position, and the service which in that position they render to the cause of civilization, which is assumed to acquire for them a right that does not belong to their class of persons in a separate position, so far from affording a vindication of this doctrine, furnishes a still stronger reason against it. They are not only uncivilized, but are now in a position to exert an evil influence, which in a separate state they could not do, although they might dwell upon our border. In a separate state, the artificial wants of civilized life are unknown to them. The great sources of temptation to do wrong by invading the rights of neighbors, is not supplied to them by their position. But when in immediate contact with civilization, a great many of these artificial wants are learned by them, and felt to be objects of desire. These desires, by a fixed law of the human mind, must be a constant source of temptation—they clamor for gratification. If the indulgence should not be restrained, either by a system of laws which reached the case, or by the motives which a state of civilization supplies, they would inevitably result in a disregard of the rights of property, and a general depravation of morals. They are without the latter, for they are uncivilized. Hence the demands of their position must be met by laws appropriate to an uncivilized people. The laws appropriate to a state of civilization, coöperating as they do with the motives supplied by that state, are not more than equal to the task of restraining the passions of civilized men. To rely upon them in the case of uncivilized men would be the grossest folly. Hence if it were not our duty to share our political rights with such a people, dwelling upon our border, in a separate state, for a much stronger reason it is not our duty to do this for those dwelling in our midst. If it is not our duty to do it, it cannot be their right to claim it; for rights and duties are always reciprocal. But, on the contrary, for the same general reasons by which it becomes the duty of a civilized state to place all its minors under the despotism of parental control, as before defined, it is the duty of the state to place an uncivilized race which may chance to dwell within its borders, under a similar form of government. This despotism need not be oppressive in the one case any more than in the other. It is the proud boast of all our native citizens that they have always lived under a free government; and yet they were brought up to the age of twenty-one under a pure despotism. But this does not deprive them of their right to boast. True, the government conferred almost absolute control upon the parent, or guardian, or master of the apprentice! These might have oppressed them. But the government, which stood ready to vindicate their rights, did not do it. The government, in what it did, only accorded them their natural rights, as we have seen—provided to confer on them the highest amount of freedom of which their condition would admit. It was to them essentially a free government, though in one of the forms of despotism. So in that form of despotism appropriate to a race of uncivilized people dwelling in the midst of a civilized people, if adapted to their condition, or securing to them (as in the case of minors) their natural rights, it is, for them, and to them, a free government. So far from being a curse, as many of our philosophers teach, it is a blessing, which their essential rights entitle them to claim. Any other form of government would be, in their case, as well as in that of minors, a practical denial of their rights; because it would result in the annihilation of their essential rights; that is, the enslavement of their wills to the basest passions of fallen nature.

Hence, we find that government, both human and Divine, is a special necessity of man’s fallen condition, and coeval with the history of the race: that its legitimate object is to preserve him from that annihilation of his essential liberty of will which would inevitably follow if there were no government, and to secure him in the enjoyment of the highest amount of this liberty which his condition will allow: that to do this, various forms of civil government are admissible; and that the one best adapted to the condition of the people is the one that should be applied, and is the only strictly free government for the people to whom it is appropriate. A democracy applied to minors or savages, in the midst of a civilized people, would be the most grinding of all oppressions. We have seen that the means appropriate to government are suitable penalties addressed to our passions of hope and fear: that the only right which a man has to exercise his inherent liberty—that is, the only right he has of self-control—is the authority to do that which, in itself, is right—not a right to do wrong: that the exclusive authority of government is to restrain man from doing wrong, and to protect and encourage him in doing right—restrain his power to do wrong, not his power to do right—this it seeks to strengthen. We have seen that the rights of man in a state of minority—and the same of uncivilized men dwelling in a community of the civilized—are to the benefits of an absolute form of government; any other would be only a system of ruinous oppression to them: that at his maturity as a civilized man, he should be protected in the exercise of all the rights which naturally belong to a state of maturity, and also the enjoyment of all those rights which he has acquired by availing himself of the privileges afforded by his condition. Of his acquired rights, we see that on certain conditions he is entitled to social equality; and that on certain further conditions, he is entitled to the right of political sovereignty.

Now, we ask, in what sense can it be said that legitimate government is a concession of some rights, in order to secure others? Certainly, in no good sense, seeing it only limits his power to do wrong, by laying him under suitable disabilities, and that it does this in order to secure both the power and the privilege of doing right. But by falsely assuming that government is a concession of rights, and that the government in which every citizen does not make a voluntary concession of the rights exercised by government is a cruel oppression, men fall upon conclusions which, when carried out, (and principles will tend to work out their results,) lead to agrarianism: that is, the destruction of all rights, by the annihilation of all civilization.

And again we ask, How does it follow that the domestic slavery of the negro in America is an abridgment of his inalienable rights? Certainly not from the fact that he is placed under an absolute form of control, for we have seen that, in certain conditions of humanity, that is the only form of government that will secure any freedom at all: as in the case of all minors, and the case of an uncivilized race that may chance to be diffused among the mass of a civilized people. If, then, his government be an oppression at all, it is because his state of civilization, and the relative circumstances of his condition, have acquired for him the rights of social equality and the rights of political sovereignty. These are questions of fact that will be considered in their proper place.