will certainly follow. This sage remark supposes that divine grace operates upon believers, not agreeably to their rational nature, by instruction, exhortation and admonition, but instinctively, and contrary to the plan which is actually adopted in the dispensation of religion, where there is an ample provision of means for promoting the sanctification of the soul; and what is more, it represents those parts of Scripture as useless in which duties are detailed and enforced, our Lord as having spent his strength in vain while he was preaching his sermon on the mount, and the apostles as having filled up with moral lessons a considerable space in their Epistles, which would have been more usefully occupied with doctrinal discussions. The opinion which leads to such conclusions is worse than absurd.

LECTURE LXXVII.

ON CONSCIENCE.

Connexion of this Subject with the Preceding Lectures-Nature of Conscience-Its OfficeIts Fallibility-The Rule of Conscience, the Will of God-The Scriptures the only Rule to Believers-Their Adequacy and Supremacy as such-Authority of an Erring Conscience-God alone the Lord of Conscience.

HAVING finished what I intended to say on the three great privileges of be lievers in Christ, justification, adoption, and sanctification, I deem this the proper place to introduce some observations on Conscience, which is intimately connected with those privileges. Two things are necessary with regard to it: that it should be freed from a sense of guilt, which is the cause of great disquietude and alarm; and that it should be purified from the errors and corruptions by which its right exercise is impeded. The first effect is produced in justification, when the sinner is pardoned, and, through faith, is filled with peace and joy; the second is the work of sanctification, in which the illumination of the mind, and the mortification of unholy appetites and passions, give it new ability and new liberty to execute its functions with fidelity.

Let us begin with inquiring into the import of the term. Conscience is the Latin word in an English form, and conscientia is a literal translation of the Greek word συνείδησις. Both terms evidently import something more than simple knowledge, which would have been expressed by scientia anda. Compounded as they are with prepositions which signify with, they suggest the idea of conjunct knowledge; and this has been explained in various ways. This power, say some, is called conscience, because it conjoins knowledge with knowledge-universal knowledge, namely, of the law, with particular knowledge, namely, of the fact, by applying the one to the other. Thus, after a man has done a certain action, he reasons in the following manner: 'I know that such an action is forbidden by the law of God; I know that I have done this action, and therefore I have committed a sin.' This process is an operation of conscience; and it consists in bringing together our knowledge of the law and our knowledge of our own conduct. Others explain the matter, or at least express it, somewhat differently, calling conscience the knowledge which a man has with himself as with another; by which they mean, I presume-for their language is awkward and obscure-that conscience consists in the knowledge of our actions, and a comparison of them with the standard of duty in our

own minds. Another mode of explaining the term, is to consider the conjunct knowledge of which it is expressive, as referring to the knowlege of men and the knowledge of God, and intimating that both are employed about our actions. While we know, God knows them; and of this important fact it is the office of conscience to remind us. There are two witnesses of every thing we do, our own consciousness, and the Great Being in whose presence we always

are.

Conscience ought not to be confounded with consciousness. The latter term denotes our knowledge of what is passing in our minds, and does not relate to external things. I am conscious of my own existence, but am not conscious of the existence of any other person, however firmly I may believe it. Conscience is conversant not only with what is passing in our minds, but also with our external actions; with our thoughts and actions which are past, as well as with those which are present; and with the actions of other men, so far as they are the subject of moral judgment. It is different also from the understanding, the province of which is to acquire the knowledge of the nature, and qualities, and relations of objects, and to pronounce what is proposed to it to be true or false, by means of its intuitive perceptions, or by a process of reasoning; while the objects of conscience are more limited in number, and present themselves under a different aspect. They are considered, not as true or false, but as good or evil, morally good and morally evil.

Among Scholastic Divines, and some more modern authors who have transplanted their barbarous terms and distinctions into their writings, it has been a subject of discussion, whether conscience is an act, a habit, or a faculty. If I apprehend the meaning rightly, those who call it only an act, deny that conscience is a distinct power of the mind, and conceive it to be merely an occasional application of our knowledge of right and wrong to our actions. Those who call it a habit, seem to hold that it is not natural to men, but is the effect of instruction and discipline. Conscience, they say, is knowledge, and knowledge is a habit, or something acquired; thus confounding the improvement of a faculty with the faculty itself. If, because our knowledge of right and wrong is acquired by education and reflection, it follows that conscience is not an original principle of our nature, it would be easy to prove, by the same kind of reasoning, that there is no such original principle as intellect. Some attempt to evade this difficulty, by distinguishing habits into innate and acquired, and telling you that conscience is something between these, and partakes of the nature of both; and then ending with such an explanation as, if it have any meaning, amounts to this, that after all, conscience is a faculty, although they choose to call it a habit. Such is the useless trash, under the name of Logic or Metaphysics, with which many theological volumes are filled.

It has been disputed, among men of more correct and luminous modes of thinking, whether conscience should be considered as a distinct faculty of the mind; or merely as the exercise of its other faculties upon a particular subject, and in a particular form. Conscience has been pronounced to be an operation of the judgment, comparing one thing with another-our actions with the standard of duty-and pronouncing their agreement or disagreement. But there is no reason for excessive simplification. We have only to go a step farther, and deny that the soul has any distinct faculties, and that what we call such, are only different modes in which it exerts itself; but, although this were true, it would serve no purpose but to introduce a change in human language, and to set aside as useless many of the speculations of philosophy. If we say that the soul has understanding, because it is capable of knowledge; that it has judgment, because it compares; that it has will, because it chooses and refuses; there seems to be no reason why we should not say also, that it has con

science, because it distinguishes right and wrong, and approves or disapproves of our actions. There seems to be a particular reason why we should account it something more than an operation of the understanding, namely, that there is not a simple perception of agreement and disagreement between the standard of duty and our actions, but an approbation or disapprobation of them, with an anticipation, pleasant or painful, of the consequences. By philosophers, it has been sometimes called the moral sense. They have given it the designation of a sense, to signify that it perceives right and wrong, as the taste perceives sweet and bitter; and of moral sense, to specify the objects about which it is conversant. But, although the term, sense, is sometimes applied to our internal feelings, yet I look upon the phrase, moral sense, as an incongruous combination of terms, and prefer conscience, not only because it occurs in the Scriptures, and is adopted by theologians, but because it is free from ambiguity, and, from association at least, reminds us of an authoritative rule of action, and of a supreme Judge; while the moral sense implies a reference to neither. Besides, to call conscience a sense, implies, that we have instinctive moral perceptions; a supposition which does not accord with experience, and proceeds upon the gratuitous assumption, that this faculty is different from all our other mental faculties, which remain in a dormant state till they are excited, and require culture to fit them for the performance of their functions.

It has been objected against considering conscience as an original power of the mind, not only that it seems to be wanting in some individuals, but that its operations are not uniform. What is esteemed virtuous at one time, becomes vicious at another, and conscience is found to pronounce opposite sentences upon the same action. What the ancient Greeks, for example, practised without shame, is now held in universal abhorrence; and, even in modern times, if you only pass a river, a mountain, or an imaginary line, you shall find different ideas of morality prevailing upon the one side and the other. Hence, conscience appears to be a factitious thing; the result, not of the constitution of our nature, but of education and custom. Having been taught to look upon one action as criminal, we refrain from it, and upon another as good, we practise it; but a different training would have inverted our ideas, and made us regard the former as laudable or harmless, and the latter as infamous or unbecoming. But this reasoning against the existence of a moral principle, is more specious than solid, and might be employed with equal success to disprove any other of our mental faculties. Might it not be shown in the same way, that we have not the power of perceiving truth, because some individuals are born idiots, and men in all ages have been subject to the strangest illusions, and have embraced innumerable errors; and what has been admitted as unquestionably true at one time, has been rejected as manifestly false at another. Did we mean by conscience, an instinctive perception of the moral qualities of actions, it would be a conclusive argument against it, that men's perceptions have been so various and contradictory; but as we mean only a power in the human mind of perceiving them, the modifications to which it is subject from external circumstances, will not appear to any sound reasoner to be a proof of its non-existence.

I have not given a formal definition of conscience; but from the preceding observations you will perceive what I understand by it. It is that faculty which perceives right and wrong in actions, approves or disapproves of them, anticipates their consequences under the moral administration of God, and is thus the cause of peace or disquietude of mind.

A question has been proposed, whether it is possible for conscience to err; and, although it seems to be a plain one, yet it has not received a uniform anSome have adopted the negative, affirming that conscience cannot err. They distinguish between a judgment of the mind, and a judgment of con

swer.

science, and say, that the former may be false, but that the latter is always true; not reflecting that, if conscience has any connexion with the understanding, as it must have if it is founded on knowledge, it must be subject to the same errors with the understanding. To support their opinion, they define conscience to be a clear and certain knowledge of the objects with which it is conversant. Now, there is no doubt that, if this definition is admitted, the inference which they draw from it is undeniable; for it is manifest, that, if our conceptions of any subject are distinct and adequate, our judgments concerning it must be conformable to truth. The amount, therefore, of what they say, is, that we cannot be mistaken when we are certainly right; but, for this profound discovery, no man, I presume, will think himself obliged to its authors. We may affirm any thing of any thing, if we are allowed to give an arbitrary definition of it. And this definition of conscience is undoubtedly arbitrary; for conscience, so far as it implies knowledge, is not perfect and infallible knowledge, but that degree of it which we have obtained by the exercise of our intellectual faculties, and with which many errors may be blended.

But some maintain the infallibility of conscience upon a different ground. If conscience may err, they say, it follows that God has deceived us; for he gave us this faculty, and it is his candle shining within us. If God had given conscience as the only rule of our conduct, if he had commanded us to rely with implicit confidence upon its dictates, and if it were still as perfect as it ever was, we might say that the errors into which we are led by it are imputable to its Author. But not one of these pre-requisites is true. Conscience is not our only rule, as we shall afterwards see; its dictates are not therefore to be implicitly obeyed, and it has not continued uninjured amidst the ruin of our moral nature. Conscience, which derives all its light from the understanding, must receive it, if I may speak so, obscured and discoloured as it flows from its source. Does any man say, that, when our understandings err, God has deceived us? No; and let no man say that he has deceived us when conscience errs; for, what is conscience but the application of the knowledge of the understanding to our practice, as a test to examine it? By what law was God bound to preserve conscience from being tainted by sin, any more than our other faculties? It was, indeed, impossible to have preserved it in purity, when the understanding, upon which it depends, was perverted and blinded. It is inconceivable how this notion of the infallibility of conscience could have been adopted by any man who had read his Bible, had reflected upon his own experience, had observed the conduct of others, and, in a word, was possessed of an ordinary portion of common sense. Such is a specimen of the absurd opinions which Theologians of great name have sometimes advanced. As they come in our way, we must take notice of them; but in doing so, there is a waste of precious time.

Let us now proceed to the rules of conscience. It is evident that conscience is not a rule to itself. Man comes into the world entirely destitute of knowledge, and gradually acquires it as his faculties expand; but in his state of greatest improvement, he is too ignorant of God and himself to be qualified to be his own guide. It is not enough that his intention is good. If he had been created without power to distinguish between right and wrong, or had been left without the means of ascertaining his duty, there might have appeared to be a reason for saying, that to mean well would be sufficient to recommend him to his Maker. But, since there are moral distinctions, and the knowledge of them is confessedly not beyond the reach of the human faculties, it is not to be imagined that our conduct can be acceptable to God, unless it be conformable to them. Those distinctions are founded in the nature of things, or in the will of the Creator, and must therefore be a law to all reasonable creatures. To suppose the intention to sanctify our actions, is to suppose that VOL. II.-34

virtue and vice are not essentially different; that actions themselves are nothing in a moral estimate, and that the only thing to be considered is the motive or the end. Thus man would, indeed, be a law to himself, and would be accountable only for his designs; every other thing would be exempt from the Divine jurisdiction. Conscience, then, must have a rule. It is plain that the rule is not the example of others, although wise and good, because the best of men are imperfect, and are liable to errors and infirmities; because, even their virtuous actions are not to be imitated, unless we be in similar circumstances, and in the application great mistakes may be committed; and because, without another rule, we could not know whether they were right or wrong. It is implied in the proposal to imitate them, that their actions are good; and this supposition further implies, that there is a standard to which they are conformable. Thus we are led, at the second step beyond them, to that standard as the rule; and exhortations to imitate them, whether delivered in the Scriptures, or by our fellow-men, can only be understood as a call to do what they have done, when we know it to be right from some other source.

I may add, that the opinion of men is not the rule of conscience, any more than their example, because they may mislead us, either from design or from their own previous error. Hence we are commanded to call no man master, and to give this honour to Christ alone; and it is said in reference to the dogmas and commands of men, "To the law and to the testimony; if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them."* In the church of Rome, the doctrine of probability is maintained, or the doctrine that a man may safely do any thing for which there is a probable reason. And how is this probability to be obtained? Not by searching the Scriptures, but by consulting the Doctors; and if a few of them concur in sentiment, nay, if even one of them pronounce that a thing may be safely done, the person whom he advises may do it, whatever it is, without incurring guilt. Thus the whole law of God has been disannulled, and a sanction has been given to every abomination; for doctors have been found in that Church, who have patronized by their authority every conceivable vice. This is an extreme case; but it shows us the danger of submitting to be guided by the opinions of men. As they and we are subject to the same standard of duty, their opinions can be considered only as their interpretations of the law, which are not authoritative, and ought to be compared with the law itself before they are received.

Casuistical writers distinguish the rules of conscience into two classes. The first is the original, supreme, and independent rule, namely, the will of God, by whatever means it is made known to us. The second class comprehends the laws of men, and our own voluntary engagements, as vows, oaths, promises, and covenants. Now, there is no doubt that a man is bound in conscience to fulfil the engagements into which he has entered to God, and to his fellow-men; that they lay him under an obligation which he cannot violate without guilt, it being always presupposed that they are lawful, and that they constitute rules by which his conduct should be regulated. It is equally certain that we are subject to the authority of others, as parents, masters, and magistrates, whose commands we ought to obey; and their commands may be called rules of conscience, as by them different classes of relative duties are pointed out and enjoined; yet they are only subordinate rules, and in fact are no rules at all, if we understand by a rule, a regulation possessing intrinsic authority. Whatever power our superiors may have to enforce obedience. conscience duly enlightened does not recognise their authority, unless it perceive an agreement between their commands and the law of God. In truth, the commands of our superiors stand in the same relation to conscience, in

Isa. viii. 20.