"How is it with me when every noise appals me?"

Act ii, Sc. 2.

"Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use."

The same fact is frequently asserted in the sacred Scriptures. Thus, "The Lord is known by the judgment that he executeth; the wicked is snared in the work of his own hands."

"Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpunished."

I hope that I need not apologize for introducing into such a discussion so many illustrations from poetry. They are allowed, on all hands, to be accurate delineations of the workings of the human mind, and to have been made by most accurate observers. They were made, also, without the possibility of bias from any theory; and therefore are of great value, when they serve to confirm any theoretical views, with which they may chance to coincide. They show, at least, in what light poets, whose only object is to observe the human heart, have considered conscience, and what they have supposed to be its functions, and its mode of operation.

SECTION III.

THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

We have, thus far, endeavored to show, that there is in man a faculty denominated Conscience; and that it is not merely a discriminating, but also an impulsive faculty. The next question to be considered is, what is the authority of this impulse.

The object of the present section is, to show that this is the most authoritative impulse of which we find ourselves susceptible.

The supremacy of Conscience may be illustrated in various ways.

I. It is involved in the very conception which men form of this faculty.

The various impulses of which we find ourselves susceptible, can differ only in two respects, that of strength and that of authority.

When we believe them to differ in nothing but strength, we feel ourselves perfectly at liberty to obey the strongest. Thus, if different kinds of food be set before us, all equally healthy, we feel entirely at liberty to partake of that which we prefer; that is, of that to which we are most strongly impelled. If a man is to decide between making a journey by land, or by water, he considers it a sufficient motive for choice, that the one mode of travelling is more pleasant to him than the other. But when our impulses differ in authority, we feel obliged to neglect the difference in strength of impulse, and to obey that, be it ever so weak, which is of the higher authority. Thus, suppose our desire for any particular kind of food to be ever so strong, and we know that it would injure our health; self-love would admonish us to leave it alone. Now, self-love being a more authoritative impulse than passion, we should feel an obligation to obey it, be its admonition ever so weak, and the impulse of appetite ever so vehement. If we yield to the impulse of appetite, be it ever so strong, in opposition to that of self-love, be it ever so weak, we feel a consciousness of self-degradation, and of acting unworthily of our nature; and, if we see another person acting in this manner, we cannot avoid feeling towards him a sentiment of contempt. ""Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool." And, in general, whenever we act in obedience to a lower, and in opposition to a higher sentiment, we feel this consciousness of degradation, which we do not feel when the impulses differ only in degree. And, conversely, whenever we feel this consciousness of degradation, for acting in obedience to one instead of to another, we may know that we have violated that which is of the higher authority.

If, now, we reflect upon our feelings consequent upon any moral action, I think we shall find, that we always are conscious of a sentiment of self-degradation, whenever we

disobey the monition of conscience, be that monition ever so weak, to gratify the impulse of appetite, or passion, or self-love, be that impulse ever so strong. Do we consider it any palliation of the guilt of murder, for the criminal to declare, that his vindictive feelings impelled him much more strongly than his conscience? whereas, if we perceived in these impulses no other difference than that of strength, we should consider this not merely an excuse, but a justification. And that the impulse of conscience is of the highest authority, is evident from the fact, that we cannot conceive of any circumstances, in which we should not feel guilty and degraded, from acting in obedience to any impulse whatever, in opposition to the impulse of conscience. And thus, we cannot conceive of any more exalted character, than that of him, who, on all occasions, yields himself up implicitly to the impulses of conscience, all things else to the contrary notwithstanding. I think no higher evidence can be produced, to show that we do really consider the impulse of conscience of higher authority than any other of which we are susceptible.

II. The same truth may, I think, be rendered evident, by observing the feelings which arise within us, when we compare the actions of men with those of beings of an inferior order.

Suppose a brute to act from appetite, and injure itself by gluttony; or from passion, and injure another brute from anger: we feel nothing like moral disapprobation. We pity it, and strive to put it out of its power to act thus in future. We never feel that a brute is disgraced or degraded by such an action. But suppose a man to act thus, and we cannot avoid a feeling of disapprobation and of disgust; a conviction that the man has done violence to his nature. Thus, to call a man a brute, a sensualist, a glutton, is to speak of him in the most insulting manner: it is to say, in the strongest terms, that he has acted unworthily of himself, and of the nature with which his Creator has endowed him.

Again. Let a brute act from deliberate selfishness; that is, with deliberate caution seek its own happiness upon the whole, unmindful of the impulsions of present appetite, but

yet wholly regardless of the happiness of any other of its species. In no case do we feel disgust at such a course of action; and in many cases, we, on the contrary, rather regard it with favor. We thus speak of the cunning of animals in taking their prey, in escaping danger, and in securing for themselves all the amount of gratification that may be in their power. We are sensible, in these cases, that the animal has acted from the highest impulses of which the Creator has made it susceptible. But let a man act thus. Let him, careful merely of his own happiness upon the whole, be careful for nothing else, and be perfectly willing to sacrifice the happiness of others, to any amount whatsoever, to promote his own, to the least amount soever. Such has been, frequently, the character of sensual and unfeeling tyrants. We are conscious, in such a case, of a sentiment of disgust and deep disapprobation. We feel that the man has not acted in obedience to the highest impulses of which he was susceptible; and poets, and satirists, and historians, unite in holding him up to the world, as an object of universal detestation and abhorrence.

Again. Let another man, disregarding the impulses of passion, and appetite, and self-love, act, under all circumstances, in obedience to the monitions of conscience, unmoved and unallured by pleasure, and unawed by power; and we instinctively feel that he has attained to the highest eminence to which our nature can aspire; and that he has acted from the highest impulse of which his nature is susceptible. We are conscious of a conviction of his superiority, which nothing can outweigh; of a feeling of veneration, allied to the reverence which is due to the Supreme Being. And with this homage to virtue, all history is filled. The judge may condemn the innocent, but posterity will condemn the judge. The tyrant may murder the martyr, but after ages will venerate the martyr, and execrate the tyrant. And if we will look over the names of those, on whom all past time has united in conferring the tribute of praise-worthiness, we shall find them to be the names of those who, although they might differ in other respects, yet were similar in this, that they shone resplendent in the lustre of unsullied virtue.

Now, as our Creator has constituted us such as we are, and as, by our very constitution, we do thus consider conscience to be the most authoritative impulse of our nature, it must be the most authoritative, unless we believe that He has deceived us, or, which is the same thing, that He has so formed us, as to give credit to a lie.

III. The supremacy of conscience may be also illustrated, by showing the necessity of this supremacy, to the accomplishment of the objects for which man was created.

When we consider any work of art, as a system composed of parts, and arranged for the accomplishment of a given object, there are three several views which we may have of it, and all of them necessary to a complete and perfect knowledge of the thing.

1. We must have a knowledge of the several parts of which it is composed. Thus, he who would understand a watch, must know the various wheels and springs which enter into the formation of the instrument. But this alone, as, for instance, if they were spread separately before him, upon a table, would give him a very imperfect conception of a watch.

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2. He must, therefore, understand how these parts are put together. This will greatly increase his knowledge; but it will still be imperfect, for he may yet be ignorant of the relations which the parts sustain to each other. man might look at a steam-engine until he was familiarly acquainted with its whole machinery, and yet not know whether the paddles were designed to move the piston-rod, or the piston-rod to move the paddles.

3. It is necessary, therefore, that he should have a conception of the relation which the several parts sustain to each other; that is, of the effect which every part was designed to produce upon every other part. When he has arrived at this idea, and has combined it with the other ideas just mentioned, then, and not till then, is his knowledge of the instrument complete.

It is manifest, that this last notion, that of the relations which the parts sustain to each other, is, frequently, of more importance than either of the others. He who has a conception of the cause of motion in a steam-engine, and