Part 5
Now, the proposition, as he explains it, may be admitted as a truism; but then the doctrine of essential equality of right will not follow from such an admission: that is, social and political equality. For what if it be true that “each separate individual has precisely the same right to use the advantages with which God has endowed him?” It only follows that each one has a common right in this respect merely, but not that there is an essential equality of right in any available sense in which we are accustomed to understand the phrase. For if so, it will follow that brutes have an essential equality of rights with men, and that both men and brutes have an essential equality of rights with angels. This is not pushing the argument too far in either direction. For brutes, in a sense well defined by Dr. Wayland himself, have rights. No one but a _moral_ brute would deny the right of his fellow-creature--the brute--to appropriate an accessible bucket of refreshing water to slake his burning thirst. Nothing is more certain than that brutes, men, and angels have a common right to appropriate the advantages with which God has endowed them. Brutes could not have lower, and angels could not have higher, rights in this respect. But surely it cannot be said that this common right confers on brutes, men, and angels, essential equality of rights in any practical sense whatever; for then it will follow that brutes, men, and angels have an equal right to social and political equality--a bold and reckless absurdity.
We admit that one man has a common right with each and all other men in the respect stated; but not that they have common rights in other respects. The common right to use our “_advantages to promote our happiness_” will not constitute us equals in any proper sense, unless our _advantages_ be equal. Now, Dr. Wayland himself allows, in the very terms of his proposition, that men are _not equal in condition_--that is, _not equal in advantages_. And nothing is more obvious than that men are not equal in that intellectual and moral condition which would enable them to use certain social and political advantages for the benefit of themselves and others: consequently, upon his own admission, they would have no right to them. Unless, then, it can be shown that God has endowed all human beings with intellectual and moral capacities sufficiently developed to enable them to be used for the common welfare, they have no right to what we call political freedom. But it is unquestionable that men are not universally nor even generally so endowed. It is not the case with minors. Political freedom is withheld from them by the laws of all States, for the obvious reason that it is not among the privileges which God, as yet, endowed them with the ability to use for the common welfare. Still, no one, so far as we are aware, ever dreamed that minors were herein abridged of their natural rights, and that government and parents were “_odious tyrants_” because they subjected them to one of the known forms of domestic slavery! We are not surprised, therefore, that Dr. Wayland found himself compelled to admit that minors were exceptions to his rule; which, however, he had argued as universal--universals admit of no exceptions.
Again, it is not true of barbarians, through any of the stages of barbarism. At no period are they in that state of intellectual and moral development in which they could use for the common welfare the blessings of civil freedom, as understood and enjoyed by a highly civilized people. If they were, they would not be barbarians, but a civilized people, to whom the right of civilization--political freedom--would inure.
Now I assume here, what I shall prove in a future lecture, that the African came into this country in a state of extreme barbarism; and that, in the judgment of Southern people--whom prejudice itself can hardly deny are honest and the only competent judges in this matter--they are still, as a race, in a state of semi-barbarism, to say the least. If we are right in this position, they also are an example of persons who are clearly not entitled to the rights which inure only to a state of civilization. With what propriety, therefore, could any decent man, whose object is not to insult, affirm that we are “odious tyrants,” for withholding from the African the rights which are appropriate only to a state of civilization: unless he were prepared first to show that we are wrong in our position as to the question of fact, that they are still in a state of semi-barbarism, and, therefore, not entitled to civil freedom?
How shall we characterize the course of Dr. Wayland! After drawing an ingenious argument through many pages of his performance: appealing to the facts and principles of Holy Scripture: not failing, in the progress and application of his false position, to stigmatize the system of African slavery as an odious tyranny, and this for the obvious purpose of degrading the Southern States of this Union in the eyes of the whole civilized world: then, when he is confronted, as he necessarily was, in the progress of his own argument, by the only material fact in the whole discussion, he adroitly evades all consideration of it whatever! On page 216, fourth edition, he states the position of the South, that the “slaves are not competent to self-government,” and shortly replies, “This is a question of fact which it is not the province of Moral Philosophy to decide.” Why then did he decide it by an application of his false position to the South? Echo answers, Why?
Had he confined the application of his principles to the rights which belong to a civilized people, we should have no cause to complain; or had he adduced facts to invalidate the position of the South in regard to its African population, we should be bound to regard him as maintaining an honorable discussion; or, yielding this point, had he attempted to define that form of government most appropriate to a mass of semi-barbarians, dwelling in the midst of a highly civilized people, with whom they could not amalgamate; or, declining this, had he frankly confessed his incompetency (as indeed will really appear upon a discussion of his basis principle) to do justice to the subject of Moral Philosophy at this point at least--in either case we should be bound to respect his effort. But departing, as he evidently does, from all these obvious lines of duty in the pathway of his desolating errors, and inflicting so deep a wound upon the feelings of the whole Southern community, it must be allowed that our charity is heavily taxed in accounting for his course. He can have no cause to complain that we adopt the opinion that he has permitted an early prejudice to grow into a feeling of fanaticism, so fixed as to warp his judgment on points of very simple application in Moral Science.
Dr. Wayland’s treatise is a text-book in many of our literary institutions, and he himself is eminently distinguished both in the religious and literary world. Such a text-book, thus endorsed by both piety and learning, put into the hands of our young men, could rarely fail of its object--especially if the professor concur in enforcing its doctrines. This is frequently the case in Northern institutions, and has often occurred in Southern; and where it has not, the professor, as a general thing, is either silent, or he concedes the _doctrines_ of the text, and rests the defence of the South upon the false position, that “she cannot help herself!” The assumption that God has placed men in circumstances in which they cannot avoid a violation of his own immutable principles of right, may be so entirely overlooked, as to leave the doctrines and arguments of the text to work an increasing conviction that there is moral wrong in African slavery. If this state of things continue, we must not be surprised if abolition fanaticism should have a still more rapid growth in our land.
LECTURE IV.
THE QUESTION OF RIGHTS DISCUSSED.
Why it is necessary to define the term RIGHTS--The right in itself defined to be _the good_--The doctrine that the will of God is the origin of the right considered--The will of God not the origin of the right, but an expression of _the right_ which is the good--Natural rights and acquired rights, each defined.
There are questions which lie back of this discussion--errors, as I think, which underlie the popular ideas of both government and rights. We should not consider that we had fully met the difficulties of the subject if we passed them by.
Domestic slavery, it is said, is an abridgment of inalienable rights; and legitimate government is a voluntary concession of certain alienable rights.
Natural rights are, of course, such as are inherent in the constitution of man: inalienable, because in point of fact he cannot be substantively deprived of them. The law which in any case provides to do this, treats him as though he were not a rational, but a mere sentient being--and therein alienates his rights. Domestic slavery is said to treat the slave as a mere chattel, a thing, not an entity, and hence deprives him by provision of law of the right of being treated as a rational being as he is, and not a mere thing. This is said, because it places his time and labor at the disposal of another man. How far this reproach is just, turns upon a definite answer to the question--_What are rights?_
“_Government is a voluntary concession of certain alienable rights._” If this concession be made by the majority of the citizens, the government is called republican; if otherwise, it is called despotic. In this theory of government, certain rights are assumed to be given up, in order to secure other and more important rights. I have shown government to embody, of necessity, two great abstract principles in harmonious operation--though, in their essential nature, the one antagonizes the other. Now the principle of slavery--_control by the will of another_--certainly operates an abridgment of the exercise of _self-control_, which is the principle of liberty. And so far as the principle of slavery operates, in any given instance of government, is that, in such instance, a giving up, to that extent, of the right of _self-control_, in order to secure a _right_ to the _self-control_ which remains ungiven up? Is this so? This question also turn upon the solution of that other question--What are rights?
And again, _self-control_, we say, is the principle of liberty. Practical freedom is the exercise of the _right_ of self-control. How far does the right of self-control extend? I say that an instance in which a body of men emerged from a state of nature, (so called,) and formed a government by an original act, is unknown to history. It never occurred. Man was placed originally by Jehovah himself under political law. The very moment that he placed the first being in a relation to another by giving him a “_helpmeet_,” he gave him a law to govern that relation, as we have seen; and all the subsequent acts of men in the matter of government-making, have been such modifications of the existing form of government as they supposed would better suit their circumstances. But it is said that when society meets in convention to agree upon certain principles called a constitution, under which the laws shall be made, men do virtually, for the time being, resolve themselves into their original position or state without government; and that the constitution so formed is virtually an original formation. Well, for the sake of the argument, let it be so. When, therefore, society thus falls back upon its original position, men stand upon the basis of what are supposed their _original rights_! What is that? Why, the right that each man has to do as he may please. They form a government: that is, give up a part, more or less, of their _original right_. Of course a part remains ungiven up, and the giving up cannot be to secure the possession of that which is already in possession! What is it that invests these questions with difficulty? Is it not the ambiguity of the term rights? Let us then define _rights_, if we would not be for ever entoiled by these absurdities.
And still again: Is liberty the right of self-control? Is not man--accountable man--free in virtue of his very humanity? Does this freedom imply absolute liberty? If so, absolute liberty is inherent in his very constitution--it is inalienable. What right, then, can he have to give it up, or any part of it? If so, he has the right to do that which subjectively he cannot do. If, then, government be a concession of the _right_ of self-control in this sense, it is the concession of an inalienable right, and should be abandoned as a piece of folly.
It is entirely obvious, therefore, that we cannot advance in these inquiries at all without first settling the question, _What are rights?_
The English language is allowed to be one of great power, compass, and accuracy, and therefore eminently adapted to reasoning. It derives this quality in a good degree from its flexibility, the different varieties of idea, and often the different shades of meaning in these varieties that may be expressed by one word. No language is supposed to compare with it in this respect. But whilst this adapts it to the purpose of correct reasoning, it opens also a wide field for errors in argument. Men usually differ widely in _opinion_, but they do not often differ in sentiment. All intelligent and good men _feel right_, and _mean right_. They often differ in opinion because they differ in the meaning they attach to the language, the same language, which is the medium through which each views the same subject. Different men use the same word in different senses. The same man often uses the same word by habit in different senses in the same connection. They come to different conclusions, of course, and the same man often entoils himself by his own argument. Now, there are few words with which men have more to do in discussions and opinions about liberty and government--the next most important matters to personal religion--than with the word _rights_; and there are few words which are capable of more varied application, and which are in truth oftener applied to express different shades of meaning, than this word _rights_. Webster gives correctly some forty different meanings of this term, together with several subordinate senses in which it occurs, all of which are in common use. _Our_ language--and of what language is not the same true?--our literature, our theology, our politics--society on all sides--is bristling with _rights_! Now, is it not obvious that there must be some generic idea which classifies all the different meanings and applications of this term, and which has its foundation in the common sense, the common reason of all mankind?
If, then, we inquire what are our rights in any given case, this question directly involves that other and ultimate question, What is _the right_ in itself? the solution of which solves at once the general question in regard to all cases. And although the case in which our _rights_ may appear must be first in point of time before our minds, to call up our idea of _the right_, still our definite antecedent idea of the right is the logical condition on which we determine whether the right appears in that case.
Call then, to your mind, an instance of justice, and one of injustice: a case of virtue and a case of crime: an example of heroism and an example of weakness: does not each of these cases embody, the one class your idea of the _right in itself_, and the other your idea of the _wrong in itself_? But your conception of the cases in which your antecedent idea of the _right_ and the _wrong_ appears, and your antecedent idea of _that right_ and of _that wrong_, are very different ideas: that is, the case itself and your idea of the principle are distinct: the one a thing, the other an idea of something real. What, then, is your idea of the _right_, which is so distinct in your mind from the case in which it appears? Interrogate your reason and consciousness. Interrogate the reason and consciousness of all mankind.
Take this example: “The father of _Caius Toranius_ had been proscribed by the triumvirate. _Caius Toranius_, coming over to the interest of that party, discovered to the officers who were in pursuit of his father the place where he concealed himself, and gave withal a description by which they might distinguish his person when they found him. The old man, more anxious for the safety and fortunes of his son than about the little that might remain of his own life, began immediately to inquire of the officers who seized him, whether his son were well, whether he had done his duty to the satisfaction of the generals. ‘That son,’ replied one of the officers, ‘so dear to thy affections, betrayed thee to us: by his information thou art apprehended, and diest.’ The officer, with this, struck a poniard to his heart, and the unhappy parent fell, not so much affected by his fate as by the means to which he owed it.”[3] Here is an example of the greatest filial impiety, and of the highest parental affection. The one fulfils our idea of _the right_, the other our idea of _the wrong_. Now, what is this idea of the right and the wrong in which all are supposed to agree? We would not ask, with the disciple of Paley, of Condillac, or of Helvetius, what the “wild boy, caught years ago in the woods of Hanover,” would have thought of this case; nor what the savage, without experience and without instruction, cut off in his infancy from all intercourse with his species, would think of it. No: “the savage state offers us humanity in swaddling-clothes, so to speak--the germ of humanity, but not humanity entire. The true man is the perfect man of his kind: true human nature is human nature arrived at its development.”[4] We utterly deny that, in order to arrive at the judgment of human nature, we need consult a savage in such circumstances, or indeed to consult a savage at all. And yet we say that even a savage of good mind, who has lived long enough in society to get the idea of the relation of parent and child--such as even savages have--would pronounce the conduct of the one to be right, and of the other to be wrong, and have a definite idea of that _right_ and that _wrong_, each in itself. And we furthermore say, that human nature cultivated to the highest degree bears the same testimony to the difference in the conduct of this father and this son, and attaches essentially the same ideas to that difference. In calling the one _right_ and the other _wrong_, men say, and they mean to say, that _the one is good and the other is evil_. This is the uniform judgment of human reason--the permanent belief of mankind. To this _common sense_ bears ample testimony. Grammarians have not invented languages. Government itself dates back of legislators--they have only modified it. Philosophers have not invented beliefs: without concert, without conventions, the world has fallen upon certain beliefs, and certain signs to express these beliefs. In the secret chambers of the soul, not of any one individual man, but of all men individually, consciousness bears testimony that such and such is the belief of all men, and this we call the judgment of common sense; and such is also her testimony in all languages as to the thing that is _right_, and that the _right_ in any given case is the idea we have of the _good_ in that case. _The right, then, is the good._
[3] Paley’s Philosophy.--Moral Science.
[4] M. Cousin.
“Right, _rectus_,” says Webster, “straightness, rectitude;” which he explains to be conformity to rule or law, and that the _will of God_ is the ultimate rule or law which determines the _right_ or the _wrong_ in all cases. Hence conformity to this rule is the generic idea of the _right_ in itself, according to Webster. In this view, Horne Tooke, in his Diversions of Purley, concurs. As his criticism is ingenious, instructive, and generally truthful, I quote the more material portion of his article on rights. After telling us in his dialogue that Johnson only informs us that _right_ is not _wrong_, and _wrong_ is not _right_, he adds:
“H. RIGHT is no other than RECT_um_, (_regetum_,) the past participle of the Latin verb _regere_, etc.
“In the same manner, our English word JUST is the past participle of the verb _jubere_.
“DECREE, EDICT, STATUTE, INSTITUTE, MANDATE, PRECEPT, are all past participles.
“F. What then is law?
“H. It is merely the past tense and past participle of the Gothic and Anglo-Saxon verb which means something or any thing laid down as a rule of conduct. Thus when a man demands his RIGHT, he asks only that which it is ordered he shall have. A RIGHT conduct is that which is _ordered_: a RIGHT reckoning is that which is ordered: a RIGHT line is that which is _ordered_ or _directed_, (not a random extension, but) the shortest between two points: the RIGHT road is that ordered to be passed (for the object you have in view:) to do RIGHT is to do that which is ordered to be done: to be in the RIGHT is to be in such situation or circumstances as are _ordered_: to have RIGHT or law on one’s side is to have in one’s favor that which is ordered or laid down: a RIGHT and JUST action is such an one as is _ordered_ and _commanded_: a JUST man is such as he is commanded to be--_qui leges juraque servat_--who observes and obeys the things laid down or commanded; and the RIGHT hand is that which custom and those who have brought us up have ordered or directed us to use in preference, when one hand only is employed; and the LEFT hand is that which is _leaved_, left, or which we are taught to leave out of use on such occasions. So that left, you see, is also a past participle.
“F. Every thing, then, that is _ordered_ and _commanded_ is RIGHT and JUST?
“H. Surely; for that is only affirming that what is _ordered_ and _commanded_, is _ordered_ and _commanded_.
“F. Now what becomes of your vaunted RIGHTS of man? According to you, the chief merit of man is obedience; and whatever is ordered and commanded is RIGHT and JUST. This is pretty well for a _democrat_. And those have always been your sentiments?
“H. Always; and those sentiments confirm my democracy.
“F. Those sentiments do not appear to have made you very conspicuous for obedience. There are not a few passages, I believe, in your life, where you have opposed what was _ordered_ and _commanded_. Upon your principles, was that RIGHT?
“H. Perfectly.
“F. How now! Was it _ordered_ and _commanded_ that you should oppose what was _ordered_ and _commanded_! Can the same thing be at the same time both RIGHT and WRONG?
“H. Travel back to Melinda, and you will find the difficulty easily solved.” (The people of Melinda are all _left-handed_, i. e., _their right_ is _our left_. But they are as _right_-handed as we are; for they use that hand in preference which is _ordered_ by their custom, and is therefore _their right hand_, and leave out of employ the other, which is, therefore, their _left_ hand.) “A thing may be at the same time both RIGHT and WRONG, as well as RIGHT and LEFT. It may be _commanded_ to be done and _commanded_ not to be done. The law--that which is _laid down_--may be different by different authorities.