If the authority inheres essentially in the good, that single phrase expresses the combined idea. But in fact, no man ever drew the whole idea from the single expression, "this is the highest good;" but all the world adds, "and we ought to pursue it." The truth is, the whole list of words expressive of obligation in the sense of command are an impertinence, unless they import an authority which is not in the phrases, "the best," "the highest good," and the like. But if, as the manner of their usage implies, these words express an obligation which is not in the good itself, and thus add a sanction to the good, then that is the final authority, and to obey it is really the highest good. Happiness is doubtless a good; but the highest good is, to obey that sacred law, whose sanction, they even who deny its existence, are obliged to invoke to make the pursuit of any other good a duty.

The idea of the ultimate nature of right, under the form of justice, it is moreover easy to see, is recognized in all human government. Is there a parent, or a ruler, who would confess to exceeding by one iota the demand of justice, in affixing the penalty of crime, on whatever promise of future prevention? And whence, but from the sentiment which underlies the fact here alluded to, comes that well-known maxim of civil jurisprudence, "better that ten guilty persons should go unpunished, than that one innocent man should suffer?" It is not the welfare of society, that interposes so lusty an arm to shield the innocent accused. It might even be an injury to society, were the innocent, when believed guilty, to escape. It is the awful sacredness of justice, overriding all consideration of results to society, and letting loose ten brigands upon a defenseless community, rather than that one man whom justice does not condemn, should feel the avenging stroke.

From the considerations thus suggested, and others which the want of space will not now permit us even to indicate, it appears that there is a real, ultimate, absolute principle, called right, of which justice is a particular form; higher and more sacred than any possible welfare of society as involved in the consequences of the sinner's acts; and that the satisfaction of this principle forms the final and controlling aim of all pun

ishment under the government of God. As already suggested, there appears to us no philosophical objection to supposing the union of the several objects which have been named, to constitute a compound end, sought in the infliction of evil upon the sinner. The proportion in which they would severally appear, might be different in every possible case. They might vary in different worlds, in time and eternity, and as the varying factors of free moral agency, and the sovereignty of God. It is far from necessary that we should distinguish the countless shades of difference, or measure or adjudge results. God will do all, and do it well. It is sufficient for us to recognize the general principles on which the administration of his government proceeds.

If, then, the reformation of the offender, the welfare of society, and the satisfaction of justice,-rising from the lower to the higher in the order of statement, are the objects to be accomplished in the infliction of punishment; by what means may they most effectually be attained? What will be the Nature of punishment under the Divine government?—our second inquiry.

The question resolves itself into three, having reference respectively to the Mode, the Degree, and the Duration of punishment.

A very obvious remark, and yet one the full import of which has not always been appreciated, falls naturally here, preliminary to the discussion of all these questions. It has been common to speak, in a loose way, of the unspeakable hight and depth of these, and similar questions; and of the modesty in forming opinions upon the strength of our own judgment which becomes minds limited and weak as ours. But something more than loose statements and vague feeling are here due. Consider for a moment the nature of the questions involved.

The Bible affords us dim and broken, but not uncertain, views of worlds beyond our own; by whose inhabitants our career is regarded with interest, and ourselves influenced, respectively, for good and for ill; and who are therefore fellow members with us of one vast moral system, uniting us in

bonds of mutual interest, influence and destiny. The relations thus existing, between us and those beings "who kept, and those who kept not, their first estate," may, already or in future, in the sublime arrangements of the Deity, extend to countless worlds throughout the universe. The problem of sin and punishment in the case of the humblest individual of the human race, would thus become a problem of the whole universe as well as of eternity. And apart from the revelations of the Scriptures, it is not an unphilosophical theory, that the history of this earth, and the career of the race which inhabit it, may be or become known and appreciated by the denizens of innumerable realms even to the farthest shores of space. Science is daily unfolding principles which, though yet but partially understood, may one day be seen to constitute what might be properly called the "telegraphic system of the universe;" by which the great drama of sin and its consequences enacted on this globe may be really enacted, as on a stage, in sight of the universe and of eternity. Indeed, aside from both these considerations, no one can doubt the adequacy of Almighty power, to effect by some means such a result. It is no new idea to thinking minds out of the walks of science, that all things which exist constitute a vast system, permeated throughout by mutual and intricate relations, by which every part, however insignificant, receives and exerts, forevermore, its influence from and upon the whole. And thus again, the question of sin, and its effects, and its punishment, becomes a question of all worlds, and of all duration. What considerations, then, must be weighed, what principles measured, what influences traced, as remote as the stars, as vast as the infinite, as lasting as eternity, in order to resolve the problem! In this light, let any man, with mind enough to perceive what he is undertaking, propose to tell us precisely the relative proportions of discipline and penalty in a just system of punishment,-let him say how soon the one should close and the other begin-let him determine whether or not there shall be a hell, and how intensely and how long its fires shall burn; traversing and sounding these mighty depths, and tracing among worlds and races yet uncreated, the unutterable

thoughts therein involved, let him essay to draw up for the infinite Legislator the disciplinary and penal code of the universe; and we need not say, he will sink down fainting and breathless from the tenuity of the air, and humbled and ashamed at the childish presumption of the attempt. We wish, then, to be understood here, not as addressing the vague reverence of piety, but as affirming a sound philosophical truth, when we repeat, that these are questions infinite, yes, infinite in their hight, and depth, and reach; and that any finite intelligence must modestly lay them down very soon after it has taken them up.

And yet, here as before, there are problems toward the solution of which we may accomplish something, if we enter upon the investigation with a proper understanding of its nature.

It can scarcely be doubted, in the first place, that the principal mode of punishment under the Divine government, must be spiritual in its nature. This is indicated alike by the spiritual nature of the soul itself, which, and not the body, is the real sinner; by the spiritual world and life to which its earthly career is but an introduction; by the spiritual beings, that is in their ultimate state, which constitute that vast society the interests of which are involved; and by the spiritual nature of the great God and Judge, against whom, in the depths of the soul, spiritual rebellion has so long been carried on. It would be strangely incongruous indeed, if, in the face of these obviousfeatures of the case, the chief exercise of Divine censure did not find some spiritual manifestation, and for its scene choose the arena of a spiritual life and world.

But a much more important remark concerning the mode of punishment is, that it must be, and be recognized as, a governmental infliction, in distinction from a mere natural consequence of sin. This will be found essential, both in the retributive and the disciplinary aspects of the case.

Retribution must be the judgment of an offended ruler. Mere evil consequences, resulting from sin by the law of nature, will not fill the idea. They utter the voice, not of justice, but of necessity. Their language is not, "this you deserve," but, "this is inevitable." Retribution cannot be the

product of a mere law. It is a special response to a particular act, and has a strictly occasional and special import. No fixed and prescribed penalty can meet the idea of retribution, because actual guilt will vary in every different instance of the same crime, as in countenance and character men are never the precise counterparts of each other. An earthly law, of a purely external nature, may be written down,—such a penalty for such a crime, &c.; but a retribution to meet actual spiritual guilt, must be definitely assigned in every instance by a being who sees, and knows, and can judge, and execute judgment. Natural laws are moreover unable to satisfy by their results the demand of justice, from the want of that strictly personal element which is essential in the case. God is a personal governor, and is personally offended by sin. The sinner is a personal offender. The parties concerned are not mere laws, they are living, individual wills. Any satisfaction for sin, to be adequate, must bear a personal character;-personal from the offender, and to the offended. It must be inflicted and received, by a free, intelligent, conscious will. Otherwise it is merely the rolling of the great wheel of nature; which rolls on forever, unconscious and unconcerned, whether it crush a worm, or an immortal spirit, or a lifeless clod. It merely rolls and crushes whatever may chance to fall in its course. Retribution, on the contrary, assigns to a man his desert, and because it is his desert, and if possible, in such a way that he shall know that he gets it because he deserves it. So far then as retribution enters as an element into the great purpose of punishment, the mode of infliction must be, and be recognized as, direct and penal, in distinction from natural and consequential.

The disciplinary ends of punishment, whether toward the offender or toward society at large, give rise to the same necessity. Natural consequences of sin cannot reach the conscience of the sinner with awakening power. Uttering no condemnatory sentence, they convince him not of guilt, but only of folly. They may prompt to prudential reform, but never to repentance. They are equally powerless to subdue the will,— rebellious against just authority. There can be no proper sur