CHAPTER XV. In the preceding chapter I have said that the present age is distinguished above every former period for the practical manifestation of a moral influence in the guidance of human conduct. But as this power is only beginning to be acknowledged, and its operations are the result of individual and isolated exertions, it has still to struggle against the might and mastery of formerly existing institutions, framed upon a far different principle. Many of these have been based upon the lower feelings of human nature and conducted by intellectual means, for purely selfish purposes. Their establishment was therefore but an artificial extension of animalism, in which superior degrees of intelligence only increased the means of aggressive violence, or secured a more sure defence from the violence of others. Hence the existence of armies and navies, with all their death-dispensing apparatus and machinery. What are all these but a mighty exertion of intellect to seize and keep possession for selfish purposes? over right," but in all cases a departure from the principle of rendering "good for evil." And if their necessity can be at all defended, it must be on the plea of other nations acting with equal selfishness, which only the more strongly proves the same melancholy statement. 66 In many cases it is might No wonder is it, then, when society receives its first impression from an iron mould like this, that it should itself become indurated, and convey a similar impression to its various individual institutions. Army and navy discipline is mere physical coercion. Soldiers and sailors are flogged into obedience, and kept in subjection through fear. Even civil government is a pure compulsion, backed by an appeal to physical force, and capital punishments, banishment, and imprisonment, the usual means employed in reclaiming refractory subjects. But whatever may be said in defence of this iron rule, where the mere physical wants of man are legislated for, and where the subject himself is little more than the fragment of a machine, in those institutions where mind and moral faculties are under discipline, and where even the germs of a spiritual existence ought to be cultivated, anything like a system of terror-training is egregiously out of place. The intellect can never be held in fetters forged by human hands, nor stimulated to any healthful activity by bodily stripes. To chain the viewless winds, and calm the heaving ocean, are not more impossible. Where such methods are resorted to in the present day in schools, they are still the fragments of barbarism, and a line of conduct indicated by the passions in supremacy, -as much so as that which leads inferior animals to retaliate upon one another. The only difference, indeed, seems to be, not in the animus which prompts to such punishments, but in the medium through which they are carried into effect. Reason has suggested more artificial and complicated modes of thus gratifying the passions. It is a more polished and effective weapon than instinct, but the wielding power is substantially the same. And, to carry out the metaphor, it is only the glare of this bright instrument that dazzles the eye and prevents us from seeing the malignancy of the power that unsheathes it. It is only the perverted reason of man that enables him so successfully to hide the unreasonableness of his conduct; and much it is to be feared that even the arguments adduced in support of such treatment are often given against the secret convictions of those who adduce them. Nor does it require, certainly, any great degree of mental acuteness to see, that an error in judgment can never be repaired by any bodily infliction, any more than a physical deformity can be cured by a mere effort of mind. And as a moral offence proceeds but from one or other of two causes, either a perversity of the will, or an inveteracy of habit,—it is only the former that can ever be rectified by a mental influence, while immoralities which have gained the force of habits are far beyond the reach of mere precept, and can only be counteracted by opposite habits. How vain, then, is it to attempt reaching these by merely material influences—that is, by bodily punishments! But this discrepancy between opinion and actionbetween the dictates of conscience and the promptings of passion, proves at least a sort of transitionary state, and an approach to better things. And as in the analogy adduced, where instinct merges into intellect, so in the treatment of offences a very perceptible change is taking place in the world. Punishments, in theory at least, are conducted more upon intellectual principles, and less upon the impulse of an instinctive vengeance. People now reason upon the necessity of bodily punishments, and in awarding such, endeavour to apportion a proper amount of pain to the magnitude of the crime. But it is still a vicarious punishment; and I repeat, that it is equally unjust to inflict an injury upon the feelings for a bodily defect, as to inflict bodily pain for a moral delinquency. Having premised this general statement, in the following remarks I shall merely select a few instances at random, by way of illustrating this proposition :-That a system of moral training is not a thing naturally adopted by a teacher; that it is a generalisation drawn from human conduct by an intellectual process, and must therefore be referred to intellectually, in guiding the conduct; or, in short, that the passions must be held in check by the judgment, and the judgment itself under control of the moral faculties. Ten Suppose, then, a boy talking loudly to his companions in school: he offends his master's sense of propriety, and ruffles the tranquillity of his mind. The latter commands the boy to be silent; and perhaps he becomes so. to one, however, the command is given with some asperity of manner, and in an angry tone of voice, which are neither more nor less than the result of a vindictive feeling, prompting a retaliation for the injury he himself sustained. It is substantially the same feeling that prompts one boy to return another a blow who has struck him. Now the boy, as has been said, may obey his master, and be still by such means, as well as by an opposite treatment; but to a moral certainty the germ of a vindictive feeling has been implanted in his mind against his master. The angry feeling was evidently governing the intellect, and as far as the cause of such an ebullition was concerned, the individual acted on a level with the inferior creation. Anger was first felt at the boy's disobedience, and an instinct impelled the master to this outward manifestation of his displeasure; but the result was entirely of a vindictive character, and made in perfect forgetfulness or ignorance of the moral tendency of such conduct. The intellect, so far as it had to do in the case by shaping the angry feeling into words, was simply an instrument; whereas the angry feeling should have acted the part of a monitor to the intellect, giving notice of the fault, that it might have been dealt with according to some reasonable mode of treatment. An inferior animal would have acted in the same way; it would have vented its feelings in an angry growl, or have wreaked its fury in some bodily infliction. Both would thus be acting from an instinctive impulse; whereas the former of course should have taken reason as a guide. On the part of the master it was the natural and untrained feeling arising spontaneously, and manifesting itself in this aggressive form. It was acting blindly and without the control of reason. It is not asserted, however, that it is wrong to entertain a feeling of anger. Anger is a good feeling, and implanted within us for good purposes. It is indeed given to protect from injuries, that is, to make the aggressor sensible of his wrong, and prevent a repetition of it. But the point is, how is this best to be done, and there is an abundant answer furnished in the sublimest of all moral precepts," Overcome evil with good,”—an answer that all the philosophy of the world never before supplied. To expect that the child's talkative or trifling inclination would be restrained by exhibiting an angry aspect and bitter words, would be equally reasonable as to expect that a distemper could be cured by irritating the part most infected. The angry feeling must therefore be kept entirely in subjection to the judgment. It may prompt the latter to the discharge of its duty, but it must never take the duty in hand itself. The mind, guided by experience, and upon a moment's reflection, will see, that the proper way to proceed is, to treat the case as if no personal inconvenience had been at all experienced. Let the child be kindly admonished or gently reminded |