previous certainty that it will be, with the free and full consent of our hearts? Yet this is the precise distinction between what is called natural and moral necessity. And is there not an equally plain distinction between being physically able to do a thing, and being willing to do it; or between being physically unable to do a thing, and being unwilling? Yet this is the distinction, (and surely it is distinction enough,) between natural and moral ability and inability. We need not fear to rest any conclusion on the validity of distinctions such as these. We need have no fear that such distinctions will ever be confounded. And yet they are confounded, and must be, by all who would confound the Necessarianism of Edwards, with the Necessarianism of Materialists and philosophical unbelievers. Edwards held that, though it is previously certain, in every case, how man will act, yet they will act freely and voluntarily, and with perfect natural powers to act differently; and consequently that they are responsible for their actions, as really and as justly, as though there was no previous certainty respecting them. While the Fatalist holds, that there is a natural necessity for men to act, in every case, just as they do; that they have no power of any kind to act otherwise; that they are controlled by an invincible fate; and consequently, that a sense of ill-desert, is but a vulgar prejudice; and the distinction between right and wrong is a distinction only in name. And now who does not see that these two systems are as wide asunder as truth and falsehood, or as light and darkness; and that to confound them together, or to substitute the one for the other, is to confound the plainest and most important distinctions.

But perhaps we have said enough respecting the work of Edwards. It certainly is a noble work-a monument, not only of his acuteness as a philosopher, but of his faithfulness as a Christian. It has stood the test of opposition and perversion; has won for him the respect both of friends and enemies, and is sure to go down, with the name of the distinguished author, to future generations.

We turn now to the other publication, the title of which stands at the head of this article.

ART. II. THE LOVE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS.

By Rev. JOSEPH TRACY, Editor of the Boston Recorder.

THE Scriptures inform us that God "loveth righteousness." Is it possible for man to do the same? We contend that it is. By this we mean, not merely that righteousness may be valued and desired as a means of obtaining some other good; but that it may be regarded as desirable in itself, and may be desired as good, irrespective of its consequen

ces.

It may be well to illustrate our meaning by an example. A man owes another a sum of money. There is no legal proof of the debt. It never was known to any human being, but the parties. The creditor has forgotten it, but the debtor remembers it. He knows he can neglect to pay it, without any loss of reputation. He has no fear-he sees that he has no cause for fear-of any temporal evil, if he neglects payment. We say, it is possible for a man in this situation to love honesty so well, that he will pay the debt, for the sake of being an honest man. True, God knows the whole truth, and would call him to account for dishonesty in another world; but it is not necessary that he should think of this, before he can find a motive to do that which is right. True also, his conscience will reproach him with dishonesty, if he withholds from his neighbour his due; but he may so love honesty, that he will pay without being goaded by this fear. In short, the man may so love honesty, that he will not need to think of any thing, except the fact that he ought to pay that debt, in order to find a sufficient motive for paying it. In other words, the man who, knowing that a debt is honestly due, will stop and consider whether it can be collected by law, or whether he shall lose credit, or comfort, or heaven, by neglecting to pay it, or who needs to stop and consider any thing but the single fact that it is due, before he can feel any inducement to pay it, is not so thoroughly honest as a man can be. We maintain that there may be a love, not only for the consequences of honesty, as manifested in external advantages or internal peace, in this world or the world to come, but for honesty itself. We maintain that the hope of enjoyment is not the only consideration, which man is capable of feeling as an inducement

to act; that a man may so love righteousness, that it also may be felt as an inducement. We maintain, too, that this is not merely another form of the desire of enjoyment, but that a man may feel a desire to do right, without taking into consideration any of the advantages which are to result from it.

It is maintained by some, that man is incapable of being induced to act, by any thing but the desire of enjoyment; that enjoyment is the only thing which man is capable of regarding as good in itself, and of desiring for its own sake; that he is, from his very constitution, if not from the nature of intelligent being, incapable of acting at all, except as led by the hope of enjoyment, or driven by the fear of suffering. We mean to deny this doctrine, and to assert that man is capable of acting from motives of a different kind. We admit that he cannot act, except in view of something which he, at the time, regards as good; and we admit that enjoyment is good, and may be a motive to action; but we maintain that enjoyment is not the only good which man is capable of appreciating and pursuing. We grant, too, that righteousness and enjoyment are intimately connected; that, indeed, ordinarily, the same act of the mind is at once duty and enjoyment; but we contend that man is under no indispensible necessity to think of this, in order that he may feel inducement to do that which is right.

We mean to deny the doctrine of Paley, that "we can be obliged to nothing but what we ourselves are to gain or lose something by; for nothing else can be a violent motive to us." We mean to deny that "self-love, or the desire of happiness, is the primary cause or reason of all acts of preference or choice, which fix supremely on any object." We maintain that the love of righteousness, the desire to be righteous, may sustain the same relation to acts of choice, which the writers just quoted ascribe to self-love, or the desire of happiness.

Our proof of this doctrine must rest, for the most part, on the reader's own consciousness; and we beg leave, for the sake of brevity, to state what we believe that consciousness will recognize as true, in the form of positive assertion.

That this doctrine is true, is proved from the nature of the Christian duty of self-denial. What is self-denial? Is it merely exerting ourselves to avoid pain, or secure enjoyment? Is any act, performed because we can promote our

own enjoyment by it, more effectually than by any other act now in our power, self-denial? Certainly not. Self-denial implies, that we forego our own gratification, rather than do wrong. Doing right, or avoiding sin, is the object which we have in view, when we perform the Christian duty of self-denial. The miser may practise self-denial of another sort. He may forego many comforts for the sake of gratifying himself by hoarding. The drunkard may deny himself comfortable raiment, that he may gratify his love of strong drink. The ambitious man may deny himself rest, that he may gratify his desire for fame. The worldling may deny himself the gratification of dishonest gain, when opportunities present themselves, that he may retain the reputation and habits, which are necessary for the most safe and certain gratification of his worldly desires. The Papist may deny himself meat, and every thing "wherein is the juice of meat," on Fridays and Saturdays, and many other days, for the sake of heaven. The legalist, to use an old word, for which no good substitute occurs, may refrain from all overt acts of dishonesty or sensual indulgence, and even from agreeable but corrupt imaginings, from the same motive. But none of these perform the Christian duty of self-denial. That consists, not in refraining from gratifying ourselves in one way, for the sake of gratifying ourselves the more in another, but in foregoing gratification from a regard to duty. We deny ourselves, because we prefer righteousness to enjoyment.

The nature of repentance proves the same. Repentance is not mere regret, arising from the discovery that we have sought our own enjoyment unskilfully. Nor is it such regret, accompanied with the discovery of a more sure method of self-gratification, and a determination to use it. As every Christian knows, it has feelings, which could not spring from such considerations. It includes remorse, as distinguished from regret; a sense of sin, as distinguished from a sense of folly, or ignorance, or mistake: self-condemnation as blameworthy, in distinction from self-condemnation as injudicious or unskilful. The penitent has a sense, not merely of loss, but of deserved loss; of loss incurred, not merely as the fit sequence of folly, but as the just punishment of crime. He feels self-reproach, for having preferred pleasure to duty; for having violated, not a mere rule, by following which he would have secured his own happiness, but a law, which is "holy,

and just, and good." He feels the distinction between the love of gratification and the love of righteousness, and condemns himself, that he has been destitute of the latter, and the willing slave of the former.

And what is the love of God? Why does the Christian love him? What does he see in God, for which he loves him? Not a being who will pay well for love. Not merely that God, by being loved, will become the greatest possible means of gratification. Love is not a feeling which springs. from such considerations. It is not mercenary. "If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned." Love, which deserves the namewhich is not diverse in kind from the Christian's love of God, implies a perception, or at least, a belief of intrinsic excellence in its object. The Christian loves God, because he sees that God is worthy to be loved. And this belief of his worthiness is independent of any expectation of gain. In some instances, it exists and calls forth love, when the Christian, disbelieving his own good estate, expects to be cast off for ever. It exists prior to every Christian hope, built on evidences; for there can be no evidence of piety, till love to God is found to exist. Nor does it spring from a previous view of the enjoyment to be found in loving God, and a consequent resolution to love him. Love does not flow from a resolution to love, but from a perception, or a belief, of the loveliness of the object. Of this any one may satisfy himself by trying the experiment. Let him select any hateful or indifferent object, and resolve with all the might of his will, to love it. If really in earnest, he will find himself searching for good qualities, the contemplation of which will render love possible; and if no such qualities can be found, the attempt will of necessity fail. We conclude, then, that the Christian loves God, because he sees that God is worthy to be loved; because he sees in him a moral excellence, which is lovely; the contemplation of which excites emotions of love. He loves God for his righteousness; which shows that righteousness can be loved.

Another argument is drawn from the nature of " brotherly love," or that peculiar affection, which one Christian feels for another. He knows nothing of this affection, who does not know it to be different in kind from party spirit, and from every thing else that mere community of interest can produce. It is founded on a perception of the moral excel