The GOSPEL TRUTH

LECTURES ON THE

MORAL GOVERNMENT OF GOD.

 By

 NATHANIEL W. TAYLOR, D. D.,

1859

VOLUME I

SECTION I:

WHAT IS A PERFECT MORAL GOVERNMENT?

OR,

MORAL GOVERNMENT IN THE ABSTRACT.

LECTURE VIII:

 

V. A perfect Moral Government Involves the exercise of authority through the medium of law, The nature of the law further unfolded. -- Seventhly. The Law of a perfect Moral Government Involves the requisite sanctions of the Moral Governor's authority. -- 6th. Legal sanctions include the highest possible degree of natural good, &c., and the highest possible degree of evil. OBJECTIONS. -- Punishment ought to terminate with sin; if all should disobey, all ought not to be punished; incredible and impossible that God should adopt a moral system with such liabilities. Conclusion.

 

 

I Now proceed to show as I proposed --

 

6th. That the legal sanctions of a perfect moral government include the highest degree of natural good possible in each case of obedience, and the highest degree of natural evil possible in each case of disobedience.

 

The doctrine has often been maintained, that natural good and evil in their highest degree, annexed to the best law as its reward and penalty, become legal sanctions by operating simply as motives (or inducements) to secure the greatest amount of obedience. We have seen however, if that natural good and evil employed merely in the way of motives, cannot become legal sanctions. It is doubtless true that the natural good and evil employed as legal sanctions, have beside their sanctioning influence and as necessary to it, another, even the influence of motives. This with the sanctioning influence, or with that which establishes the authority of the moral governor, may be necessary to secure the greatest amount of obedience. If we could suppose a system designed to secure the greatest amount of right moral action by the mere influence of natural good and evil as motives, and to the exclusion of the peculiar influence of moral government--the influence of authority--then we could not say, that the highest possible degrees of natural good and evil would not be necessary to the end proposed. Be this however as it may, the present argument for the highest degrees of natural good and evil is not placed on this basis. It rests solely on the ground that such degrees of natural good and evil are necessary for another purpose, that of sanctioning or establishing the authority of the moral governor.

 

This argument, in view of what has been already said, may be thus briefly presented. Natural good and evil are necessary as legal sanctions to the law of a perfect moral government; they are necessary as legal sanctions, for in their relation they establish and sustain the authority of the moral governor; they are so as being the necessary manifestations of his benevolence in the particular forms of his highest approbation of obedience and disapprobation of disobedience. This degree of approval and disapproval can be manifested only by the highest possible degree of natural good as the reward of obedience and of natural evil as the penalty of disobedience. It follows therefore, that the highest possible degree of natural good as a legal reward, and of natural evil as a legal penalty are necessary to establish the authority of the moral governor.

 

This argument contains two premises in addition to others already considered, which, obvious as they are, may need a more particular consideration.

 

I remark then --

 

In the first place, that the legal reward must, for the purpose specified, consist of the highest possible degree of happiness to the obedient subject.

 

I now speak of that degree of reward which pertains to a perfect system of moral government--a system in which the highest happiness of each individual is consistent with that of the whole. Some indeed maintain the impossibility of such a system, affirming that the sin and misery of a part are the necessary means of the greatest good of the whole. To this I here briefly reply, that the assumption of a system in which the highest good of each shall be consistent with that of the whole as an impossibility, is wholly gratuitous and unauthorized, since the supposition of such a system cannot be shown to involve any contradiction or absurdity. And further, if such a system of moral government is impossible, then a perfect system of moral government is impossible; indeed, any thing which can be called a moral government is impossible; for sin being according to the supposition, the necessary means of the greatest. good, there can be no sincerity, truth, or benevolence, and of course no authority in a lawgiver who should forbid it. And lastly, the supposed perfect system is possible, nothing being more absolutely certain, than that every moral agent and therefore every subject of a moral government can be morally perfect, and that the moral perfection of each and of all in its true tendency, would secure the perfect happiness of each and of all. If then in such a system the moral governor does not secure the highest happiness of the obedient subject which he can secure, he does not choose to make the subject thus happy; and as the highest happiness of each obedient subject is consistent with and necessary to the highest happiness of the whole, he neither chooses the highest happiness of the individual, nor of the whole. He is therefore not benevolent, and has no right to give law to a moral kingdom. The same thing on the present supposition may be shown in other forms. Not choosing to make the obedient subject happy in the highest possible degree, the moral governor does not express the highest approbation of obedience, and therefore does not feel it. He therefore proves that he is not benevolent, and of course subverts his authority or right to command. Or thus, according to what has been already shown, the decisive expression of the moral governor's highest approbation of obedience, is indispensable as a proof of such approbation, while not to make such an expression gives equal evidence of the want of such approbation--proof of the want of benevolence--of the opposite principle, and of course of the want of all authority or right to rule. But the only conceivable mode of proving his highest approbation of obedience, is by conferring on the obedient subject on account of his obedience the highest possible degree of happiness. Otherwise he can furnish no proof that he does not feel, and would not express higher approbation of disobedience than of obedience. If then he does not confer on the obedient subject the highest possible degree of happiness as a legal reward, he does not regard obedience as he ought, or as a perfect being must regard it. He shows himself to be destitute of benevolence, and therefore without authority.

 

Again; if the moral governor does not confer the highest possible happiness on the obedient as a reward, there can be no proof that he would do it, were it necessary to prevent the universal disobedience, and with it the universal and perfect misery of his kingdom. Nor is the supposition of such a necessity unauthorized. There can be no proof that it does not exist. The declaration of the moral governor to the contrary cannot be received as evidence; for there is no proof of his benevolence, and of course none of his veracity. Such a reward may be necessary to prevent such a fearful issue. But since the moral governor refuses according to the present supposition, to annex such a reward to his law, when as we have seen it is dictated by benevolence and demanded by the highest happiness of his kingdom, it follows, that there can be no proof that he would confer such a reward were it necessary to prevent the universal disobedience, and with it the universal and perfect misery of his kingdom. As he does not confer the reward which is demanded by, benevolence in the one case, there can be no reason to conclude that he would in the other. What confidence can be reposed in such a being--what authority can he possess?--He, a being of whose benevolence there is not the slightest evidence--of whose selfishness the proof is decisive, and who may--as all are bound to believe, consent to and actually prefer the universal and perfect wretchedness of his kingdom, rather than confer the highest happiness which he can confer on perfectly obedient subjects.

 

Should it here be said, that the highest possible degree of happiness as a legal reward, is inconsistent with different degrees of reward according to the merit of different subjects, I answer, that the capacity of happiness in different subjects would differ according to their character. If we suppose various degrees of merit in subjects who are perfectly obedient, we must suppose different degrees of capacity for happiness. Should each therefore receive as a reward the highest possible amount of happiness, that is, the highest of which he is capable, degrees of reward would exist, differing according to the degrees of merit.

 

In respect to the duration of reward, I remark, that from the very nature of law, it follows, that reward must continue while obedience continues, and cease when obedience ceases. That it must do so, is obvious from what has been already shown. To suppose reward to be withheld from a subject who continues obedient, is to suppose no approbation, but disapprobation of obedience on the part of the moral governor, and of course the want of authority. That the reward must cease when obedience ceases--every expression of approbation of the conduct of the subject on the part of the governor is equally obvious. The demand of the law is, that the subject render ceaseless obedience, and the subject is bound to render it. When therefore he ceases to obey, he ceases to satisfy the claim of law--ceases to fulfill his obligation--ceases to be an obedient subject. All ground of approbation by the moral governor ceases, and it is impossible that he should regard and treat the subject as obedient, without regarding and treating him as he is not; without regarding the non-fulfillment of the claim of law, as obedience to it. The governor can therefore never confer a reward on the disobedient subject, without approving of his failure to satisfy the claim of law. If we suppose the disobedient subject to reform, this cannot so change his relation to law as to cause him to stand right in law, or to become the fit object of favor and reward from the moral governor. He has not satisfied the claim of law, but violated it. He never can satisfy it. The lawgiver therefore must cease to express all approbation of the subject by ceasing forever to reward, or he must reward in view of his unsatisfied claim for obedience; that is, he must pass by, overlook, and virtually approve and reward transgression, and thus subvert his authority.

 

We may view this topic in another light. The disobedient subject destroys all law and all authority. His act in its true nature and tendency destroys all good and produces all evil. His ill-desert is not so diminished by subsequent reformation, as not to require that degree of penalty which is necessary to express the moral governor's highest disapprobation of such an act. The deed has been done which creates the necessity for such an infliction of evil. Without it, no adequate expression can be made of the moral governor's feelings toward the act, nor of his benevolence. But the principle now stated will be still more obvious, when we consider the degree of penal evil which is necessary to establish and sustain the moral governor's authority.

 

I remark, then --

 

In the second place, that the legal penalty must consist of the highest possible degree of misery to the disobedient subject.

 

Were the moral governor to inflict a less degree of suffering as a legal penalty than the highest possible in the case, nothing would or could appear to show that he would not inflict greater suffering for something else, even for some act of obedience, than he inflicts for disobedience. Why else, when every object and end for expressing disapprobation at all, imperiously demands the expression of the highest disapprobation, when as we have seen, nothing can justify him in inflicting natural evil as a penalty, except the necessity of so doing to establish his authority by showing his highest disapprobation of disobedience, or that there is nothing which he so much abhors as this supreme evil, why does he not show it? Were he to make the transgressor this enemy of all good, this author of universal and absolute misery, in the highest degree miserable, that would put at rest the question of his own supreme abhorrence of transgression. None could doubt that he is a being of perfect benevolence, and has the necessary feelings of such a being toward wrong moral action. If this be not done, then he can furnish no proof that such is his character. He furnishes decisive proof to the contrary. The appropriate necessary expression of his highest abhorrence of rebellion is not made. Whatever may be the reason for refusing to do it, it is an insufficient reason. He furnishes not the shadow of evidence that he acts upon the principle of immutable rectitude of benevolence. He does not show that he has that supreme abhorrence of rebellion which a benevolent being must have, and as a perfect governor. must show himself to have. There is no evidence that he does not inflict suffering, regardless of every good and sufficient reason for inflicting it--regardless of every principle of rectitude, and therefore as a matter of caprice or despotic humor, at least as the dictate of the selfish principle. There is proof rather that he is actuated by the selfish principle. Not acting in the relation of a moral governor, as a benevolent being must act, he proves himself to be a selfish being. Why then, if disposed, will he not inflict greater suffering on the obedient than he inflicts on the disobedient I What confidence can be Placed in the character of such a being I What authority or right to reign can he possess?

 

Again; the moral governor, by not inflicting the highest possible suffering on the transgressor, shows that he esteems the transgression of his law a less evil than the infliction of such a penalty. Transgression, if unpunished in one instance, utterly destroys the authority of law--destroys the highest happiness of all of which the authority of the law is the necessary means, and produces all the misery, of the prevention of which the authority of law is the necessary means. When transgression occurs, the alternative on the part of the moral governor is, either to consent to the destruction of his authority with these fearful results, or to sustain it, by expressing his highest disapprobation of transgression in the infliction on the transgressor of the highest degree of suffering. Such being the alternative, he shows, by refusing to inflict the supposed penalty, that he prefers a far greater evil to a less. No matter what the reason or motive may be, none can be supposed for not inflicting the requisite penalty, which will not bring upon him the imputation of preferring the destruction of his authority, and the production of all the misery, the prevention of which depends on its support, to the infliction of that penalty on the transgressor which is requisite to maintain his authority, and to prevent the evil resulting from its subversion. By refusing to inflict this penalty, he shows that he esteems such a deed, with its ruin and its miseries, a less evil than the infliction of the highest degree of suffering on the author of the deed. By the infliction of such a penalty, its evil tendency would be counteracted and its results prevented; and yet the moral governor refuses to inflict it. He becomes therefore the voluntary responsible author of all this evil. Who would or could confide in his character, or submit to his authority?

 

Once more; if the moral governor does not inflict the highest possible suffering on the transgressor, there can be no evidence or proof that he would inflict such a penalty, if it were necessary to secure the obedience and perfect happiness of all, and to prevent the disobedience and perfect misery of all forever. I do not say, as some have said, that this penalty is necessary to the result now specified. But I affirm that there can be no proof that there is not. The moral governor's declaration would be no proof on this point, for as yet his character for benevolence and veracity is not established. There can therefore, be no possible evidence or proof in the view of his subjects, that the supposed penalty is not necessary to secure the obedience and perfect happiness of all, and to prevent their disobedience and perfect misery forevermore; and therefore, none that the moral governor, with the knowledge of this necessity, would inflict the penalty--no proof that he would punish a single individual, were it necessary on the one hand to make his kingdom a paradise of holiness and joy, and on the other to prevent it from becoming a pandemonium of sin and misery; no proof that he does not prefer the destruction of the perfect happiness and the production of the perfect misery of all, rather than inflict the same evil on one who is the author of the direful result; no proof that the least security, the least barrier against sin, exists in the character of the moral governor; that holiness and its joys will not utterly cease to exist, and sin and its woes reign without restraint and without mitigation; the universe become an unqualified hell, and the moral governor stand revealed in his true character, a selfish, malignant being, the accessory of the transgressor, the patron of sin, the responsible author of the eternal misery of all. Such, according to the evidence in the case, and in the view of his subjects, would be the character of a moral governor who should refuse to inflict the highest degree of suffering, as the penalty of transgressing the best law.

 

It can hardly be necessary to say, that according to the view now given of legal penalty, the suffering of the transgressor, if it be possible, must be unmingled. and eternal. The only supposable case in which an Omnipotent moral governor cannot inflict unmingled suffering, is that of a penitent, reformed transgressor. The natural possibility that a transgressor, under a system of mere law, should reform or return to duty, and the impossibility of rendering such a one perfectly miserable, or as miserable as he might be rendered without reforming, may be admitted. On the supposition however of the reformation of a transgressor, he would still be capable of suffering in some degree; and the highest degree of suffering possible in his case, would fully evince the moral governor's highest disapprobation of his transgression. It would, as such an expression, fully establish his authority, and would be necessary for this purpose. In the case of the impenitent transgressor, unmingled suffering would be possible, and is therefore the degree of suffering which, in his case, is requisite to sustain the moral governor's authority. Its eternal duration is possible, and therefore in all cases it must be eternal, that it may answer the end of a legal penalty in a perfect moral government.

 

Some objections to the view of legal sanctions, which has now been given, demand consideration.

 

Objection 1. It is said, that on the principle, that reward is to be continued only while obedience continues, it follows, that punishment is to be continued only while disobedience continues; in other words, that the repentance or reformation of the transgressor is a just ground of forgiveness and favor from the moral governor.

 

This objection derives all its plausibility from a false view of the essential claim of law. It supposes that law does not in its very nature claim uninterrupted obedience, or that present conformity to law, however frequently it may have been interrupted by transgression, is still obedience, and as such justly entitled to the reward. If this be so, then all that the law claims is to transgress and reform. The claim of the law is satisfied by transgression and reformation. To transgress and reform, is obedience to law by satisfying the claim of the law. To transgress and reform is therefore all that the law does, or can justly demand of its subjects. Without affirming that the lawgiver in such a case would prove himself to be as well pleased with transgression as with reformation on the part of the subject, it is plain, that he shows himself to be as well pleased with transgression and reformation as with uninterrupted obedience. This is too absurd to be maintained by any. But why is it, that when obedience ceases, reward must also cease, and punishment begin, never to cease? It is because the law of a perfect moral government requires, and to deserve the name of law must require, the uninterrupted obedience of the subject, and because the lawgiver can sustain his authority by the sanction of reward, only by rendering reward to that which satisfies the claim of law. In rewarding for uninterrupted obedience, he rewards on the only possible ground of a just legal reward--that the claim for uninterrupted obedience is satisfied by the subject. In this way only can the reward become an expression of his highest approbation of that which satisfies his claim on the subject, and thus support his authority. If obedience be interrupted by an act of disobedience, the claim of the lawgiver is not satisfied by the subject, and never can be. Of course the only ground of conferring a reward, by which the lawgiver can accomplish the end of a legal reward, does not exist, and never can exist. He can express no approbation of the subject by a reward conferred on the ground of his satisfied claim. If he express approbation at all, it must be in view of his claim, as unsatisfied and violated by the subject who is rewarded. By such an act, he relinquishes his claim for uninterrupted obedience,--allows transgression, which, in one instance, is the destruction of all good. He shows himself satisfied with, and approving transgression, by becoming the friend and patron of the transgressor. The reason then is obvious, why uninterrupted reward, according to the very nature of law, is exclusively connected with uninterrupted obedience, viz., the claim, and only claim of law on the subject, is satisfied by such obedience, and can be satisfied by nothing else. The reason is equally obvious, why uninterrupted punishment is connected with interrupted obedience, and not exclusively with uninterrupted transgression--viz., the claim, and only claim of law on the subject, is not satisfied by transgressing and repenting, but is as truly unsatisfied and violated as by continued transgression.

 

Again; it is objected, obedience during a limited period, does not deserve a future endless reward, while disobedience in one instance does deserve an endless punishment. The good and ill-desert of conduct in a subject of moral government are to be determined by, or rather they are themselves the relations of his conduct to the support and the subversion of the moral governor's authority. The obedience of the subject supports the moral governor's authority so long, and only so long as it is rendered. It does not extend its influence in this respect through all futurity, and thus give eternal support to the lawgiver's authority. The subject while obedient, fulfills only a present obligation, and satisfies a present claim. He therefore does nothing, and can do nothing which can have any influence to sustain the lawgiver's authority beyond the present effect of his present obedience. Whether he will support this authority in the future, depends on his future obedience. Having then given no support by his obedience to the authority of the lawgiver for the future, he can deserve no reward for so doing. The sole reason for conferring upon him a reward for his obedience is, that his obedience supports the lawgiver's authority, while it is rendered. If then his obedience ceases, so does its influence in this respect and with it every reason for a reward, and of course all desert of reward. But this is not all. The subject, by ceasing to obey becomes disobedient; and by this one act, if its influence be uncounteracted by the execution of penalty, he destroys the authority of the moral governor forever. he can in no way prevent the effect, either by doing or by suffering. He is as ill-deserving as were the effect to follow, as had he laid the authority of the moral governor in ruin forevermore, and must himself remain as ill-deserving forever. His ill-desert can neither be diminished, canceled, nor annihilated. The relation of transgression to law, its tendency to destroy its authority and to subvert moral government is eternal. It is true, the moral governor, by the execution of the legal penalty, can counteract this tendency, can prevent the actual effect, can uphold his own authority. He can do this however, not by annihilating the transgression of his law, nor its tendency to destroy his authority, but only by punishment as his continued act, expressing his continued supreme disapprobation of the transgressor. The punishment cannot change at all the nature and tendency of the transgression. It simply in the manner already explained, counteracts this tendency of transgression, and thus holds back the effect which would follow the moment in which punishment should cease. The sole reason for inflicting the penalty of law is not diminished nor removed by its infliction for any limited period. Of course the ill-desert of transgression is not lessened nor removed by such an infliction. The entire influence of the penalty is to uphold the moral governor's authority, as a continued expression and proof of his highest disapprobation of transgression. As the tendency of transgression to destroy his authority is eternal, the expression of his highest disapprobation of transgression in the form of legal penalty must be eternal.

 

Let us look still further at the doctrine under consideration. The principle on which the doctrine rests is, that equity or justice demands that the penitent reformed transgressor of law be forgiven and rewarded. It is to no purpose to say, that the act of forgiving the penitent transgressor is an act of sovereignty on the part of the lawgiver; for it cannot be vindicated as such under a merely legal dispensation, unless it be consistent with benevolence in the form of general justice; and if it be consistent with general justice under such a dispensation, that the subject of law be exempted from the penalty of law, then it must be inconsistent with general justice either to threaten to punish, or actually to punish him for transgression. Of course justice forbids his punishment, that is, demands his exemption from the legal penalty. His exemption therefore is not by sovereignty.

 

In respect to this principle, I remark, that it is a groundless and unauthorized assumption. Who will pretend that he either knows or can prove, that the great ends of a perfect moral government and of infinite benevolence can be secured by such a principle? Who can know or prove, that were the moral governor to act on this principle in a single instance, it would not defeat every design of infinite goodness, and fill the universe with unmingled and unending woe?

 

The principle derives no support from the practice of human governments. Whatever may, be the ground of pardon in these cases, it is not the principle of equity, or justice. When has the principle been recognized and proclaimed in the family, that murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, or in the state, that traitors, conspirators, men reeking with crime and blood, are justly entitled to pardon and reward on condition of repentance? On this principle, the vilest malefactor cannot be justly punished, until it is first ascertained that he is not a penitent; for being so, he has an equitable claim to pardon and reward. Why then in the name of all that is sacred in human rights, is not this principle of equity recognized and acted upon? Why is not a court of equity established to vindicate these rights of injured innocence?

 

On this principle a lawgiver has no right to punish transgression of law at all, but only to punish impenitence after transgression. It is not rebellion, but solely the want of repentance.

 

So also the transgressor of law cannot be justly punished for transgression which only deserves punishment. And if he cannot be justly punished for transgression, he cannot be justly punished for that which only deserves punishment; cannot be justly punished for that for which alone he can be justly punished.

 

On the same principle repentance itself is impossible. There can be no repentance where there is no guilt or ill-desert. But if there is no ill-desert except in the want of repentance, then there is nothing in transgression which can be repented of. The transgressor has no reason to repent of any thing whatever, or at most of a transgression which furnishes no ground or reason for repentance. Is it said, that by repentance, the transgressor acknowledges that it would be just to punish him for his transgression? Then plainly justice does not require that he go unpunished, i.e., that he be pardoned for his repentance. Besides, if it is just to punish, benevolence or the general good requires punishment. How then can justice, benevolence, or the general good require his punishment, and also his exemption from punishment?

 

On this principle, there is nothing in transgression or sin, neither guilt nor ill-desert to be forgiven; nothing except impenitence after transgression. But there can be no impenitence; for impenitence implies previous sin, guilt or ill-desert. So that there can be nothing to be forgiven, neither sin nor impenitence. Forgiveness therefore is impossible and inconceivable. There can be no grace in forgiveness; for grace is favor or kindness to the guilty, and there is no guilt in transgression, nor yet in impenitence. There can be no influence to deter from transgression in law nor authority; nor in any thing else an influence to prevent any thing but impenitence and this can have no existence. Repentance for sin cannot be a duty, for sin or transgression involves nothing to be repented of. There can be no reason on the part of the moral governor for prohibiting sin; nor for displeasure should every subject transgress his perfect law; for the only evil in the case is impenitence after transgression, which impenitence itself is impossible. Nor can the moral governor with the least reason or propriety require obedience to his law; for as there is nothing morally wrong in transgression, there can be nothing morally right in obedience. In short, the principle that justice requires the forgiveness of sin on condition of repentance, subverts all moral distinctions, and every relation between the moral governor and his subjects.

 

This subject may be presented in other lights. Let it be supposed that a penitent transgressor is forgiven and restored to favor. The natural and authorized conclusion on the part of any and every other subject is, that if he transgresses and repents, he also shall be forgiven and restored to favor. What then is there in the legal penalty to prevent transgression? Nothing. Its sole influence is, as so much natural evil, to deter from impenitence after transgression; for the moral governor has authorized the conclusion, that, by repentance, the penalty shall be avoided. What the moral governor then aims at, by an absolute prohibition in the form of law with the absolute threatening of the penal evil, is not to prevent sin, but only to prevent its continuance. For aught that appears, he is as well satisfied with transgression and repentance, as with uninterrupted and perfect obedience. Is such a ruler entitled to respect; has he a right to reign? Or thus: what is there in the law to prevent on the part of every subject, a continued series of alternate acts of transgression and repentance? Nothing. As the law threatens to punish, not transgression, but only impenitence after transgression, and as transgression according to the supposition is followed by repentance, there can be no place for punishment. Let it then be supposed, that acts of transgression and of repentance occur in a series at such intervals as you please to imagine, and what shall be said of the government and the character of the lawgiver? Can he be entitled to respect, or possess the least authority, or the lowest possible qualification to rule? In such a case, how could it appear that the governor would annex an endless penalty to transgression if he knew that it would prevent all transgression? And if this could not be known, how could it appear that he would annex such a penalty, though he knew it to be necessary to prevent universal and endless transgression without repentance, and with the complete and endless misery of his kingdom?

 

Without however dwelling longer on the absurdities of this principle, there is one incontrovertible fact which must exempt this part of the subject from all difficulty and doubt, viz., that sin or transgression on its first existence, is the fit object of the highest disapprobation, and therefore requires the highest degree of penal evil. Sin, or the transgression of law, is a principle of action in a moral being, and in its essential nature, is at its first existence one and the same thing which it is in its continuance. It is true, that by continuance, in certain circumstances, its strength as a principle of action may be increased, and also its ill-desert. In some circumstances, this is undeniably true. Under the reclaiming influences which they resist, evil men wax worse and worse. Placed under such influences, they are under the necessity of forming the selfish principle de novo with greater or less frequency, and thus greatly increase the strength of the selfish principle--their wickedness and guilt.

 

By continuance, it may also extend its actual desolations, and reveal to us more clearly its fell malignity; and thus its intrinsic turpitude and ill-desert may be judged by us to be greater than in its beginning. But the question now is, not whether it becomes deserving of penalty by increasing in strength, or by developing its malignant tendency to our observation in actual results. But the question is, whether sin becomes ill-deserving or deserving of penalty by mere continuance; or whether it would cease to be ill-deserving by being repented of? I answer, that the mere continuance of the same principle both in kind and degree, neither gives it its ill-desert nor increases it one iota. Sin continued, differs not from sin begun, except in the mere circumstance of continuance, which can in no respect change the nature of sin or increase its ill-desert. Sin, when it first exists, is and must be, in its nature, tendency, and every essential relation of sin, all that it ever is or ever can be. In its true nature and tendency, and in the lowest degree of strength in which it can exist in the mind, and whether it produce its appropriate results or not, it prostrates law, authority, and moral government--it destroys all happiness and produces all misery. It does not therefore become the fit object of the highest disapprobation by its continuance, nor by the impenitence of the transgressor, nor yet by any thing connected with or dependent on its continuance. It is so in its essential nature. As such an object, as demanding the expression of the moral governor's highest disapprobation in penal evil, it is, when it first exists, all that in its nature which it ever can be. The transgressor in his first act of transgression, strikes the death blow at all good, and puts his hand to the production of complete and universal misery. Then it is that the deed is committed--done in heart -- requiring no continuance, no repetition, no overt acts, no results in woe, to give it its full measure of ill-desert as the transgression of law. Were the full results of one sin instantly to follow its commission--the destruction of all good, and of all the means of good, with woe unmingled, complete, universal, and, without the execution of the supposed penalty, eternal, who would not see in these results the nature and ill-desert of sin, without supposing its continuance--would not see that its nature and ill-desert could not be changed by repentance, when its work was done? Suppose now, that the execution of the supposed penalty in comparatively a few instances would retrieve the evil, and cause a universe of joy, bespeaking the benevolence of its author, and lasting as eternity, to rise on these ruins, would not the execution of the penalty be demanded by benevolence; would not every voice of reason and of conscience respond, `The judgment is righteous altogether?' But if the supposed execution of the penalty would be demanded to retrieve the evil, why is it not required to prevent it? We say that it is, as truly as a perfect moral government is demanded by the highest good which an infinite Being can produce. Sin then, as sin, does not derive its ill-desert in the lowest degree from impenitence, nor can its ill-desert be lessened by repentance. Being what it is in its essential nature, and viewed as a principle of action irrespectively of any increased strength of any actual results in evil, either natural or moral, and continuing but for a moment, it is the fit object of the highest disapprobation, and demands the highest degree of natural evil as its penalty.

 

Objection 2. It may be said, that as punishment can be justified only on the principle that the greatest good requires it, it would follow, that if all the subjects of a moral government should rebel, benevolence would forbid their endless punishment. If it be admitted, that in the case supposed, benevolence would forbid eternal punishment, it does not follow that it would forbid it in any actually existing case, nor in any case in which a benevolent being can be supposed to adopt a perfect moral government. Nor, to apply the objection to this world, and supposing all to be in a state of disobedience, does it follow, that benevolence might not inflict eternal punishment on all. It cannot be shown that the moral governor might not punish rebellion to whatever extent it may be supposed to exist in this world, and yet, by creating other worlds, produce on the whole an amount of creature happiness equal to that which would exist without the supposed punishment. The possibility of his so doing seems to be distinctly recognized in the Scriptures; and the admission of it is also important, if we would duly appreciate the mercy of God in the work of redemption. "Think not," said John the Baptist, to the unbelieving Jews, "to say within yourselves, we have Abraham to our father; for I say unto you, God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham." As if he had said, God can destroy you forever, and yet glorify himself by creating and blessing other beings. This is possible truth, and as such, it fully overthrows the present objection, as applied to the endless punishment of every human being. Such a punishment of the race may be consistent with God's benevolence. If it here be asked, why then did not God actually adopt this course? I answer, not because as a benevolent being he was under the necessity of adopting another--not because he could not secure as much I do not say he could secure more, creature happiness, by the punishment of this world and the creation of another, as by the redemption of this; but because, viewing this world as actually created--for it must be so, if we suppose it to deserve punishment--it may be true that he could himself find more happiness in blessing with redemption creatures already existent, than by creating others to be the subjects of an equal degree of happiness. He would thus derive the decisive motive to redemption from himself, and not from a greater amount of creature happiness. In this view of the subject, with what emphasis does he say, "Not for your sakes do I this, but for my own great name's sake." How rich is such mercy compared with that which benevolence, as is supposed, requires him to show to guilty beings. The Christian must admit that it is, and the infidel that it may be, consistent with God's perfect benevolence to punish a revolted world with everlasting destruction.

 

More can be said on this point. Whether benevolence requires the eternal punishment of the transgressors of law in any actual case or not, it is undeniable, that there cannot be a perfect moral government without it as the penalty of transgression. According to the principles already presented, every subject in this case, would be authorized and required to believe, by decisive evidence, that the moral governor does not regard the transgression of his law with the highest disapprobation. He does not punish on this principle, but plainly shows that he esteems it of less consequence that his law is transgressed, than that penalty be inflicted on the transgressor, which is requisite to sustain his own authority as a perfect moral governor. He would that the rebel should be made less than completely and eternally miserable, rather than secure and employ the necessary means of the highest happiness of all for eternity; yea, rather than furnish so far as any evidence to the contrary is concerned, the necessary means of preventing the absolute misery of all for eternity. He shows that he does not regard obedience to his law as the supreme good, and disobedience to his law as the supreme evil. He shows himself too kind, too indulgent to the rebel, to make him as miserable as the support of his own authority and the highest happiness of his kingdom demand. In a word, he shows himself to be truly a selfish and malignant being. And what is law, authority, or moral government in such a case, but a pretense and a mockery? To talk of a perfect moral government then, in a case in which benevolence will not allow the authority of the governor to be sustained by an endless penalty, is only to say, that a perfect moral government in such a case, is impossible; that benevolence itself forbids the necessary means of the highest happiness.

 

Objection 3. It is said, that it is incredible and impossible that benevolence should adopt a moral government with a legal penalty consisting in the highest degree of natural evil. I answer, that to assume the impossibility and incredibility that benevolence should adopt such a system, is wholly gratuitous and unauthorized. It cannot be shown, nor can it be rendered in the lowest degree probable, that such a system of moral government is not the necessary means of the best end which an infinitely perfect Being can accomplish. The supposition that it is, involves no contradiction or absurdity. It may not only be true, that such a system is the necessary means of such an end, but that the end is so great that the supposed penalty in its actual execution, is in the comparison insignificant, an evil scarcely to be accounted of. Great as the evil may be to the individual sufferers, it is to be estimated not simply as related to them, but as related to the great, end of the system--the end which an infinite being can accomplish only by means of it. This principle is familiar to every mind, and constantly recognized by right reason as indubitable. Why are the crimes of murder and treason punished with death, and this too considered only as fatal to certain great interests of time? Is not death a most fearful evil to man, viewed as a being of time only? Why then is it made the penalty of some single acts of transgression? Because the interests which one such act destroys, the great ends of human society can be secured by no other means. Do you say that the unmingled and endless misery of a being is an evil so immeasurably great, that it is incredible that there should be any necessity for it as the means of good? But remember and admit, that the failure of the end which it may be necessary to secure, may be an immeasurably greater evil. If you refuse to admit this, you are not a fair reasoner. If you do admit it, then why should it be thought incredible, that the penalty of the law should be the unmingled and endless suffering of the transgressor? If the limited and comparatively inferior interests or end of an earthly kingdom, demand for their security the penalty of death, why may not the penalty under consideration be justly, inflicted on him who would destroy the interests and defeat the end of an eternal kingdom. Why may not an infinite Being propose an end, the accomplishment of which shall require the infliction of the highest degree of natural evil on those who would otherwise defeat that end, who would even fill his creation with unmingled and endless woe? The sum total of penal evil actually inflicted under this system may be ten thousand times less compared with the actual good of which it is the necessary means, than the penal evil in any kingdom, state, or even family on earth compared with the good which results from it.

 

On this subject, if we would not be led by feeling instead of reason, we must think Of THE END--the happiness to be produced--the misery to be prevented--the end worthy of an infinitely perfect Being, and which shall be a full expression and manifestation of his infinite attributes--the end which such a Being will and must accomplish! And who shall prescribe limits to this, and undertake to tell how much evil may be justifiably incurred in its accomplishment? But it will probably be said, that infinite power can dispense with the supposed penalty, and that thus its necessity is wholly superseded. I answer, that a perfect moral government is the necessary means of the end proposed; and that no degree of power can dispense with such a system, nor with any thing necessary to its perfection. Perfect benevolence must adopt the system. Power can in no respect interfere with or chance its nature. Omnipotence is here under a restriction from the nature of things, the government of free moral agents. The power of an infinite Being is as truly restricted by the nature of the subject as the power of man? What can power do? It cannot secure as its proximate effect right, nor can it prevent wrong moral action. It cannot destroy the power of moral beings to act morally wrong without destroying their nature. In the language of Dr. Dwight,

 

Men are beings possessed of the full power to originate any and every moral action." With this view of the nature of men as moral beings, it is absurd to talk of God's producing in them either right or wrong moral action by dint of power; as really so as to talk of producing thought and volition by a machine, or breaking, rocks with arguments, or governing the winds by motives. I am not saying that God cannot by influences consistent with the nature of moral agency in men, in many instances, prevent wrong and secure right moral action. But I affirm, that in view of the nature of moral agency, it is impossible to prove that God could prevent sin in the best moral system. Moral agents can act morally wrong under every possible influence from God. To suppose him to prevent all wrong moral action on their part in all cases, may, for aught that can be shown to the contrary, be supposing him to do what in certain cases he cannot do, that is, that he can do in certain cases, what he cannot do. Vide MATT. xiii. 24.

 

The system of a perfect moral government now maintained impossible, is credible, though moral evil and its eternal punishment in some cases be a foreseen and actual consequent. It may be true that it is the best--the necessary and only means of the best end which an infinite Being can accomplish. It may have in his estimation more value than all the worlds and beings which he has created; the end which he can accomplish only by a perfect moral government may be so great and good, that compared with it, the eternal destruction of such a world as this, nay, of thousands of such worlds, would be only as an infinitesimal compared with infinitude. It may at least be true that it were better, that heaven and earth, the created universe, should pass away, than that one jot or tittle should pass from the law.

 

Do you say that this is telling what may be, that it is going off into the unknown regions of possibilities? I know it. But that is where your objection goes, and we must follow. You say it is impossible that God should adopt such a system as I have described. I show you that you cannot prove it, and have therefore no right to say it. Confess the possibility of such a system, and so take back your objection and I am satisfied. My argument will then remain in unimpaired force.

 

I have thus in several lectures attempted to show what a perfect moral government is, dwelling more particularly and fully on the nature of its legal sanctions. In conclusion, I propose to make a few brief reflections on the subject and the manner in which it has been treated.

 

You must have seen that the principles which I have attempted to sustain by reason are those which belong to the Christian system. If my endeavor has been successful, I have furnished on the authority of reason a full vindication of these great principles of Christianity, and have thus in effect refuted every objection to Christianity which is derived from these principles. More particularly --

 

If the view now given of the nature of moral government be correct, and if it be conceded that God is the perfect moral governor of his moral creation, then a strong not to say the strongest objection of the infidel against Christianity is removed, viz., that its law, or rather the law on which this system rests, involves such a fearful penalty. Most infidel writers, Paine not excepted, have conceded and applauded the excellence of the Christian morality--they have praised the law of Christianity, but have denounced its penalty. In view of what has been said in these lectures, I ask, what excellence would pertain to this law without its penalty? Would it propose or require the best kind of action, and so far as its excellence as a rule of action should be understood, furnish strong motives to obedience? Be it so. But it would not be a law the law of a perfect moral government; for it could possess no authority. It could not with propriety be called a rule of action. It would be advice merely; leaving the question of conformity to the discretion of those to whom it is given, fully authorizing them to do their own will without the least respect to that of God. Yea, promulged in the form of law, it would subvert all authority in God, disprove his goodness, and justify abhorrence of his character and contempt for his government. It would reveal not even such a God as guilt makes welcome, but a being who would fill the moral creation with terror. And would such a law be excellent? What if it proposed right action, while it revealed such a being on the throne of the universe, while itself was known to be--not the law of truth, not the will of perfect benevolence, but a lie of infinite malignity! Call this a rule of action, law, authority, moral government! It were but the pretense, the mockery of it in the hands of an omnipotent fiend--the very patronage of iniquity, sanctioning its unrestrained perpetration, and exemplifying its horrors in the unmingled and unending miseries of the universe. Why is it that man cannot see here, what they see and know everywhere else? Who doer, not see and feel the power of law when administered by that supreme regard to the general good, which never wavers, never flinches, but carries it out in the full measure of its penal inflictions, whoever may be the transgressor? Were this the principle of our civil rulers, were it fully understood and known that law was in the hands of such a principle, what might and majesty it would possess! What would become of the crimes that stalk so openly and shamelessly before our eyes? And if you want an illustration of the imbecility of law contemned and fit only to be contemned, look at the too frequent use of the pardoning prerogative by the executive of our states, and at the riots, bloodshed, and murders perpetrated in anticipation of such clemency. If an armed mob in a great city, infuriate to desperation, can so impressively tell us what a law without a penalty is, why can we not learn, that a law from God without a penalty revealing the feelings and the character of a perfect Being, would be no law, worse than no law, a calamity and a curse to his moral creation? Let us then judge of the law of God as it is; judge of it with those sanctions which reveal a perfect God; judge of it in its true tendency, as the only law which is fitted to bring--as actually bringing the will of every moral creature of God into subjection to his will--then shall we see that the law of the Lord is perfect, that were God to give a law to moral beings without a penalty revealing his holiness, nay, his full abhorrence of sin, it would veil in darkness his brightest glories--would be the most fearful act of infinite malignity.

 

And here, I venture to say, that the main principle in the reasonings of infidels is subverted, and their stronghold is broken down. Who does not know, that the most plausible and the most successful assaults on Christianity derive their force from the fearful, and as it is represented, the incredible nature of its sanctions How much has been said and written on the subject, to throw Christianity beyond the boundary of human credibility! as if the supreme Lawgiver of the universe had nothing to do in his administration, but to caress the foundlings of his love, and to scatter blessings among them whether obedient or disobedient! How often are appeals made to all that is revolting in the cruelty of a tyrant; how often is this contrasted with all that is touching in the tenderness of a mother; as if the governor of the moral universe must be either a Nero or a woman! Surely a mother's tenderness, lovely as it is, does not exactly qualify her to rule a pandemonium! To resort to such appeals in argument then, is not reasoning. To him who knows enough to reason at all on the subject, there is a majesty in law, there is certainly a majesty in God's dominion which looks down with contempt on such expedients to degrade it.

 

But so it is. Thousands allow themselves to be misled by feeling, and to overlook without a thought, the magnitude of those interests, which for their protection employ, and will forever employ, the attributes of the Infinite Being. Indeed, if there be any case in which there can be no hope of a true verdict, it is when the question arises, what is the just penalty of transgressing the divine law, when the transgressor is the judge? We may safely say, that there is no subject within the limits of human inquiry, on which the human mind is more liable to be unduly swayed by interest and feeling, nor one on which such influence is less apt to be suspected. Argument in moral science depends much for its apparent force and conclusiveness, on the impression which it makes on the mind. Indifference to truth and error here, is in fact out of the question. In the present instance, our reasoning, instead of meeting sensibilities to welcome and receive its influence, has first to encounter the strongest tide of opposite emotion; and so feeble is its power to impress, that its failure to convince is ascribed almost of course to its intrinsic weakness and insufficiency. Though the argument should be absolutely conclusive, and should utterly baffle every attempt to detect its weakness, it would not be strange should it leave the mind unconvinced, and be itself rejected as sophistry too ingenious to be detected. Nor would it be any more surprising, should harshness of temper, or at least the want of the more tender feelings of our nature, be imputed to the author of an argument which supports so revolting a conclusion.

 

All this however is unphilosophical. Reproach not the advocates of Christianity for severity of temper, in maintaining what may seem to you, gloomy or even terrific views of God's moral government. How easy is it to recriminate with at least equal plausibility! For what is more terrific than the God of Infidelity? On your scheme, all is uncertainty, darkness, terror. On ours only, is there light and hope even in well-doing. Hell itself giveth both, for it upholds the empire of righteousness.

 

This is a subject then, which, above all others, calls on us to protect the understanding from all the vagaries of the imagination and all the feelings of the heart. Here if anywhere, should the mind be disciplined to the use of simple intellect, and be prepared to follow the light of evidence, to give up every thing to the supremacy of argument, to adopt conclusions however unwelcome, and to make sacrifices however painful, the moment truth demands them. For truth, be it said to her eternal honor, never can require a sacrifice which our highest good does not also demand.
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