The Philosophy of the Moral Feelings | Page 3

his intellectual powers, he acquires the knowledge of facts, observes their connexions, and traces the conclusions which arise out of them. These mental operations, however, even in a high state of cultivation, may be directed entirely to truths of an extrinsic kind,--that is, to such as do not exert any influence either on the moral condition of the individual, or on his relations to other sentient beings. They may exist in an eminent degree in the man who lives only for himself, and feels little beyond the personal wants, or the selfish enjoyments of the hour that is passing over him.
But, when we contemplate man as a moral being, new relations open on our view, and these are of mightier import. We find him occupying a place in a great system of moral government, in which he has an important station to fill and high duties to perform. We find him placed in certain relations to a great moral Governor, who presides over this system of things, and to a future state of being for which the present scene is intended to prepare him. We find him possessed of powers which qualify him to feel these relations, and of principles calculated to guide him through the solemn responsibilities which attend his state of moral discipline.
These two parts of his mental constitution we perceive to be remarkably distinct from each other. The former may be in vigorous exercise in him who has little feeling of his moral condition,--and the latter may be in a high state of culture in the man, who, in point of intellectual acquirement, knows little beyond the truths which it most concerns him to know,--those great but simple principles which guide his conduct as a responsible being.
In a well-regulated mind, there is an intimate harmony and co-operation between these two departments of the mental economy. Knowledge, received through the powers of sensation and simple intellect, whether relating to external things, or to mental phenomena,--and conclusions derived from these through the powers of reasoning, ought all to contribute to that which is the highest state of man,--his purity as a moral being. They ought all to lend their aid towards the cultivation of those principles of his nature which bind him to his fellow-men;--and those higher principles still, which raise his feeble powers to the Eternal Incomprehensible One, the first great cause of all things, and the moral Governor of the universe.
A slight degree of observation is sufficient to convince us, that such a regulated condition of the mental constitution does not exist in the generality of mankind. It is not my present purpose to inquire into the causes by which this is primarily deranged; but it may be interesting to trace some of the circumstances which bear a part in producing the derangement. In our present state of being, we are surrounded with objects of sense; and the mind is kept, in a great degree, under the influence of external things. In this manner it often happens, that facts and considerations elude our attention, and deeds escape from our memory, in a manner which would not occur, were the mind left at liberty to recall its own associations, and to feel the influence of principles which are really part of the mental constitution. It is thus that, amid the bustle of life, the attention is apt to be engrossed by considerations of a local and an inferior character;--while facts and motives of the highest moment are overlooked, and deeds of our own, long gone by, escape from our remembrance. We thus lose a correct sense of our moral condition, and yield to the agency of present and external things, in a manner disproportioned to their real value. For our highest concern as moral beings is with things future, and things unseen, and often with circumstances in our own moral history, long past, and perhaps forgotten. Hence the benefit of retirement and calm reflection, and of every thing that tends to withdraw us from the impression of sensible objects, and lends us to feel the superiority of things which are not seen. Under such influence, the mind displays an astonishing power of recalling the past and grasping the future,--and of viewing objects in their true relations, to itself and to each other. The first of these, indeed, we see exemplified in many affections, in which the mind is cut off, in a greater or less degree, from its intercourse with the external world, by causes acting upon the bodily organization. In another work I have described many remarkable examples of the mind, in this condition, recalling its old impressions respecting things long past and entirely forgotten; and the facts there stated call our attention in a very striking manner to its inherent powers and its independent existence.
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