what do you know of a social principle distinct from the actual desire to live in society, or prior to its exercise? What idea can you form of a principle of self-love, excepting actually loving one's-self? Are we then to deny that there are any such original propensities or tendencies as these implanted in our nature, because we cannot directly conceive of them? Yet Dr. Cox says, in reference to this subject, "By holy principle, I mean love to God, and by love to God I mean actually loving him." On the same principle, he might deny the existence of any of the original dispositions or tendencies of the soul. For they are as incapable of being defined, as the holy principle which is produced in regeneration. The soul itself is in the same predicament. We know nothing of it but from our consciousness of its acts. And if the objection which we are now considering be valid against the existence of principles prior to acts, then it is valid against the existence of the soul. We are conscious only of its exercises; and therefore some philosophers and theologians tell us we are not authorized to go any further. The existence of a substance apart from the exercises is not necessary to account for their existence, and therefore is a gratuitous assumption. An assumption, too, of the being of something which we are incapable of defining, explaining, or even conceiving. The reply which Dr. Cox would make to this reasoning, is probably the same that we should be disposed to make to his objection against the existence of holy principles prior to holy acts. For the mind as instinctively seeks a reason for the choice which the soul makes in loving God, as it does for the various ideas and exercises of which it is constantly conscious. And we should probably be as little satisfied with the reasons which Dr. Cox could assign to account for this choice, as he would be with those of the defenders of the exercise scheme to account for these exercises without resorting to a thinking substance. If he were to say, that the effect is produced by the Holy Spirit, we should answer that this can only be done in one of three ways that we can conceive of. First, either by his direct agency producing the choice, in which case it would be no act of ours; or, secondly, by addressing such motives to our constitutional and natural principle of self-love as should induce us to make the choice, in which case there would be no morality in the act; or, thirdly, by producing such a relish for the divine character, that the soul as

spontaneously and immediately embraces God as its portion, as it rejoices in the perception of beauty. The thing contended for is not more unintelligible than a hundred things of like nature. Taste is the ready perception and quick feeling of natural beauty. That is, these are its effects. But no one can directly conceive of it, as it is an attribute of the mind, either original or acquired. It is absolutely certain, however, that the man who does thus readily perceive and feel the beauty of natural objects, has a quality of mind which a clown does not possess. And we should be astonished to hear any one maintain that there was no such thing as taste, but the exercise. "By taste I mean the love of beauty, and by love of beauty I mean actually loving it, and that is an act and not a principle." But why does one man see and feel a beauty in certain objects, when others do not? Is there no difference between the clown and the man of refinement, but in their acts? Is any man satisfied by being told that one delights in beauty, and the other does not; that it is in vain to ask why; the fact is enough, and the fact is all; there is no difference in the state of their minds antecedent to their acts; there can be no such thing as a principle of taste, or sense of beauty, distinct from the actual love of beauty? We are disposed to think that no man can believe this: that the constitution of our nature forces us to admit, that if one man, under all circumstances, and at all times, manifest this quick sensibility to natural beauty, and another does not, there is some difference between the two besides their acts; that there is some reason why, when standing before the same picture, one is filled with pleasure, and the other is utterly insensible, We cannot help believing that one has taste (a quality, principle, “or inward sense") which the other does not possess. It matters not what it may be called. It is the ground or reason of the diversity of their exercises, which lies back of the exercises themselves, and must be assumed to account for the difference of their nature. Now, there is moral, as well as natural beauty, and it is no more unintelligible that there should be a "sense," or taste, for the one than for the other. The perfect character of God, when exhibited to different men, produces delight and desire in some, repugnance in others. We instinctively ask why? Why do some perceive and delight in his moral beauty, while others do not? The answer, some love, and others do not, is no answer at

all. It is merely saying the same thing, in other words. There must be some reason why one perceives this kind of beauty, to which others are blind; why one is filled with love the moment it is presented, and the other with repugnance. And this reason must lie back of the mere exercise of this affection, must be something besides the act itself, and such as can account for its

nature.

It may be said, however, that the cases are not analogous; that the emotion excited by beauty is involuntary, while moral objects address themselves to the voluntary affections; and that it is admitted, that there is not only "something" back of each exercise of love, but we are told distinctly what it is, viz., the soul with its essential attributes, its ultimate or supreme choice, or dominant affection, and the object in view of the mind. Accordingly, it is easily accounted for, that, when the character of God is presented, one man is filled with love, another with repugnance. The reason of the difference in these acts does indeed lie back of the acts themselves; for it is found in the ultimate or supreme choice of the different individuals. But how is this to be accounted for? If there is no necessity for accounting for the particular character of the first or ultimate choice (if so it must needs be called), there is no need of accounting for the others. The difficulty is not at all met by this statement. It is only pushed back, from the secondary and subordinate, to the primary and dominant preference. There it returns. The question still is, why does the soul of one man make this supreme choice of God, or, in other words, love him, while another sets his affection on the world? There is precisely the same necessity for assuming some ground or reason for the nature of the first choice, as for any acts subordinate and subsequent to it. Let us suppose two individuals called into existence, in the full maturity of their faculties; each has a soul with the same constitutional powers, or essential attributes; the one is filled with delight the moment the character of God is presented, and the other is not; or the one loves his Maker as soon as the idea of his excellence is presented, the other does not. According to this theory, there is no reason for this difference. There is nothing back of the first act of choice that is not common to both. If, instead of two individuals, we suppose two millions, one portion having their affections spontaneously called forth on their

first view of their Maker, the other unaffected; we have only a greater number of effects without a cause, but the case is the same. It will not do to answer, that the choice is made under the influence of the desire of happiness, for this being common to all, is no reason for the difference of the result, which is the very thing to be accounted for. To say that the choice is made under the influence of the desire of happiness, is only to say, that when the character of God is presented it gives pleasure. But the same character is presented in both cases, the same desire exists in both, yet in one it gives pleasure, is an object of desire; in the other not. This is the fact which is left entirely unaccounted for on the theory in question, and for which the mind as instinctively seeks a cause, as it does for any other effect. To account for the difference from the nature of agency, is to assume the liberty of indifference. For if the choice be made prior to the rising of desire towards the object, then it is made in indifference, and is of no moral character. If the desire rise, it is love; which is the very thing to be accounted for. We are at a loss to see how this theory is to be reconciled with the Calvinists' doctrine on the will, which is not peculiar to Edwards, but constituted the great dividing line between Calvinists and Arminians from the beginning. We feel, therefore, a necessity for assuming that there is "something" back of the first moral act, besides the soul and its essential attributes, which will account for the nature of that act, which constitutes the reason why, in the case supposed, the soul of the one individual rose immediately to God, and the other did not; and the "something" assumed in this case is no more indefinite and undefineable, than the constitutional propensity to live in society, to love our children, or the mental quality called taste, all which are assumed from a necessity not more imperative than that which requires a holy principle to account for the delight experienced in view of the character of God. And if our Maker can endow us not only with the general susceptibility of love, but also with a specific disposition to love our children; if he can give us a discernment and susceptibility of natural beauty, he may give us a taste for spiritual loveliness. And if that taste, by reason of sin, is vitiated and perverted, he may restore it by the influences of his Spirit in regeneration. Neither, therefore, the objection, that what is not an act, must be an essential attribute; nor the unintelligible

nature of a "principle of nature," is, in our view, any valid objection to the common doctrine on regeneration.

There is a third objection, however, to this doctrine, and that is, that it renders the sinner excusable, because it makes regeneration to consist in something else than the sinner's own act. This objection, as it seems to us, can only be valid on one or the other of two grounds; the first is, that the common doctrine supposes sin to be a physical defect, and regeneration physical change; and the second is, that a man is responsible solely for his acts, or that there can be no moral principle anterior to moral action. With regard to the first, it is enough to say, that no physical change, according to the constant declaration of Calvinistic writers, is held to take place in regeneration, and that no such change is implied in the production of a holy principle, as we have already endeavored to show.

The second ground is inconsistent with the common notions of men on the nature of virtue, and, if true, would render the commencement of holiness or regeneration impossible. It is according to the universal feeling and judgment of men, that the moral character of an act depends upon the motive with which it is done. This is so obviously true, that Reid and Stewart, and almost all other advocates of the liberty of indifference, readily admit it. And so do the advocates of the theory on which this objection is founded, with regard to all moral acts, excepting the first. All acts of choice, to be holy, must proceed from a holy motive, excepting the first holy choice which constitutes regeneration; that may be made from the mere desire of happiness or self-love. We confess that this strikes us as very much like a relinquishment of the whole system. For how is it conceivable that anything should be essential to the very nature of one act as holy, that is not necessary to another? Is not this saying that that on which the very nature of a thing depends may be absent, and yet the thing remain the same? Is it not saying that that which makes an act what it is, and gives it its character, may be wanting or altered, and yet the character of the act be unaffected? It is the motive which gives the moral character to the act. If the motive is good, the act is good; if the motive is bad, the act is bad; if the motive is indifferent, so is the act. The act has no character apart from the motive. This, it seems, is admitted with regard to all moral acts except