cause, and the cause of a subsequent effect; and that this last effect becomes the cause of another effect, and so on. No man can be a watchful observer of human affairs, without perceiving such a concatenation of causes and effects in the common course of divine Providence.

The doctrine that our volitions, or the determinations of our will proceed from our affections, is thought by some to be liable to objection with regard to the case of Adam. How, it is asked, could he be influenced in the act of his will to disobey, by his affections, or the state of his heart, when his affections were holy? 1 answer; while his affections all remained holy, he could not be influenced by them to disobey. But he was mutable, and the affections of his heart, which were once holy, became sinful. And it agrees with common experience, that sinful affections of heart should lead to voluntary transgression.-But how did his heart change from holiness to sin? I answer; he certainly did change, and the change must have begun somewhere. As I never experienced such a change myself, and as I am unable to look into Adam's mind and trace the process of thought and feeling which took place when he became a transgressor, 1 cannot tell how he changed from holiness to sin. This lies beyond my province. But as the inclinations, affections and desires of the heart are evidently the chief springs of voluntary action, it would seem very probable, that the change in Adam's character commenced in his heart, and that his sinful heart led to the act of disobedience. And it is certainly no more difficult to show how his affections became corrupt, and how these corrupt affections led to voluntary transgression, than it is to show how he could choose to transgress, while the affections and desires of his heart were all pure, and how this choice, proceeding from a sinless heart, could be sinful; or, in other words, to show how voluntary transgression could take place without any wrong feeling in the heart prompting to it. If, to escape this last difficulty, it should be said, that the first act of Adam's will to transgress, was an ultimate fact, and so not to be explained or accounted for, I could with equal propriety say, that the change of his heart from a pure to a corrupt state was an ultimate fact, admitting of no explanation.

If the case of the first transgression is treated metaphysically, there is no escape from difficulties. The common

theory is no more encumbered with them, than any other, and therefore the existence of insolvable difficulties cannot fairly be urged as a valid objection against it. It may be that the theory of divine truth in relation to this matter has mysteries not to be explained, and depths which no finite mind can fathom. This we know is the case with many portions of divine truth. But after all, it may be, that there is nothing in this subject, which necessarily occasions any special difficulty. The difficulties which generally perplex us, may be owing to something wrong in our habits of thinking, and particularly to our undertaking to judge of that which is wholly of a moral or spiritual nature, by our speculative faculties. It may be that the views which David had of his own misconduct, when he wrote the 51st Psalm, were not only just and true, but the only views which were fit and profitable for him. The same may be said of Peter, when he went out and wept bitterly. It may be, that he then entertained the right and proper views-the only right and proper views of his own offence. All the truth and all the philosophy, which justly belongs to any transgressor, may be contained in the humble, contrite confession; I have done wickedly;-against thee, O God, have I sinned: I abhor myself. The Lord is righteous, and I am justly condemned. We know that this is enough for the purposes of salvation, and it may be that, in regard to all important purposes, this is the end of the matter. As it is a concern of conscience and the heart, it may be, that any attempt to work out the problem in a speculative, philosophical manner, is not only needless, but hazardous; and that he who never makes the attempt, and is content to treat the subject merely in a penitent, devout and practical manner, is in the surest way to understand the truth, and to keep his mind effectually closed against the encroachments of error. And the time may come, when the wise and good man, instead of coldly inquiring after the philosophy of sin, will be wholly occupied in confessing and forsaking it, in seeking forgiveness for it, and in watchfully guarding against it. And if we could have access to Adam, and could ask him to give us an exact and faithful account of his apostacy, it may be that, after all he has learnt in the world of spirits for five thousand years, the beginning, and middle, and termination of his story would be, that he was made in the image of God, and was under perfect obligations

to obey his commands, but that he yielded to temptation and became a sinner. And it may be, that he would wonder at us, philosophizing sinners, that we should have so much trouble of a speculative, metaphysical kind, respecting our depravity, and so little of a spiritual kind, arising from a sense of the moral evil that is in us, and of our ill desert as transgressors.

I do not mean to discard mental philosophy, as a science. It is certainly interesting, and conducive to the great end of our being, to turn our attention to the nature of the immortal mind, and to observe the established principles or laws which govern its operations. But mental philosophy, as a science, has its own province, and should never interfere with moral science. It must be founded wholly upon the facts of consciousness. It must take those facts as they are; just as the science of physics takes the facts in the natural world as they are, and builds upon them. Now our spiritual consciousness teaches us, that we are the proper subjects of moral law, and that we are accountable to God for our conduct, and are deserving of praise or blame according as we conform or not to the rule of right. This then is a fact, settled for ever, and not on any account to be called in question. Whatever we find the laws of mental action to be, this fact remains. It is a first principle. What then shall we think, if a man comes forward and says,—If the laws of the mind are so and so, we cannot be moral, accountable beings? We tell him, the proper inquiry is, whether such are the laws of the mind. If, on a careful examination, we find them to be so, this can never justify us in setting aside the great fact of our spiritual consciousness, that we are moral, accountable beings. We cannot infer from one wellknown truth, that another well-known truth, is not a truth. Whatever we find to be metaphysically true as to the nature of the mind or the mode of its acting-whether the necessarian scheme, or the opposite, or some one still different, proves to be the right scheme--the important truth remains in full force, and will remain for ever, that we are moral agents, justly accountable to God for our conduct, and are praiseworthy or blameworthy, according as we obey or disobey the moral law. Let us then no longer create to ourselves difficulties and perplexities by attempting to carry the decisions of the speculative understanding into the province of conscience or moral sense. Let us judge by our speculative

faculty on speculative subjects, and by our moral faculty on moral subjects—never suffering one of these to interfere with the other. In this way, the decisions of each may become more clear and satisfactory, and the disputes which are carried on by speculative reason, respecting the affairs of conscience, may all come to an end. And as to the difficulties which have been accumulating of late in regard to moral agency, it may be that they are chiefly factitious or imaginary; and if so, the best mode of treating them is not to encounter them, but to dismiss them.

MORAL NECESSITY.

Why should there be any objection to this phrase, or to that which is intended by it? Writers explain moral necessity to be the certain connection between moral causes and their effects; or, the invariable influence of moral causes. Moral causes are the inclinations, affections and desires of the heart, together with the objects to which they relate. The language is scientific, and has its use in philosophical treatises, though not exactly suited to popular discourse. And yet the sacred writers frequently use language which implies all that is meant by necessity in this case, and they sometimes use the very word, and in the sense which scientific writers affix to it; as St. Paul says, a necessity is laid upon him to preach the gospel; and Christ says, that there is a necessity that offences should come, and that his death is an event which must come to pass. Similar language is often used, in common discourse, in which it is al ways expected, that a meaning will be given to words correspondent with the nature of the subject. Now as scientific use, in this case, so well agrees with Scripture use, and with the prevailing use in common discourse, what valid objection can be made against it? If we interpret the language relative to this subject according to the acknowledged principles of interpretation, giving it a meaning corresponding with the nature and circumstances of the case, how easily should we rid ourselves of difficulty? And is it a mark of candor and enlargedness of mind, to indulge a prejudice against modes of speech which have long been in good use, or to insist upon fixing a meaning upon them, foreign to the manifest design for which they are employed?

THE GREAT MISTAKE.

President Edwards and others say, what evidently agrees with fact, that the connection between a moral action and its cause is certain, so as to ensure the existence of the action; and that "moral necessity may be as absolute as natural necessity; that is, an effect may be as perfectly connected with its moral cause, as a natural, necessary effect is, with its natural cause." The truth of this must be perfectly evident, if we look at particular instances of moral necessity. The moral perfections of God, his wisdom, righteousness and goodness, are moral causes. The effect certainly connected with them or resulting from them, is holy, righteous, and benevolent action. Such a being as God cannot do wrong. He must do right. It is absolutely certain that he will do right. To suppose that infinite, immutable righteousness and goodness will lead to any thing but right action, is palpably absurd. The sincere love of believers to Christ is a moral cause, and is invariably connected with obedience as its effect. "He that loveth me keepeth my words." The effect follows from the very nature of love. It cannot be otherwise. If we know that any one truly loves Christ, we know that he will obey Christ. And if any one does not obey, we know he does not love. The carnal mind, or depraved heart, is a moral cause, and is certainly connected with its effect, which is transgression of God's law. They in whom this cause exists, Paul says, "cannot be subject to the law," and "cannot please God." Disobedience must follow from the carnal, selfish heart, as certainly as any natural effect follows from a natural cause. The disposition of Satan is a moral cause; and the certain, invariable consequence is, and will be, rebellion against God. To suppose it will be otherwise would be obviously inconsistent. The things above mentioned are very plain. Who will say they are not? Now because right or wrong action is the certain result of moral causes, does it follow that the action is neither right nor wrong? Because moral causes produce their effect as certainly and invariably as physical causes, does it follow that the effect is a physical effect? Because there is as real an influence in the one case as in the other, does it follow that the influence is of the same nature? It does certainly result from the corrupt passions and desires of