walking is a distinct agent. The faculty is not the agent, but belongs to the agent. It is the intelligent being, man, and he only, that acts, and acts in such a variety of ways. He thinks, desires, loves, hates, wills, and does all things else which are ascribed to his different faculties. I repeat it, that, strictly speaking, it is not the power or faculty that acts, but the person who is possessed of the power. We do indeed find it convenient, and well enough suited to the purposes of common discourse, to keep up the usual expressions, and say, the will chooses, or puts forth a volition, reason compares and judges, &c. But after all, this is a loose way of talking, and far from being philosophically correct. For, as I have already said, in strict propriety, it is the intelligent being, the person, that compares, judges, chooses, and performs all other mental acts; and from the fact of his acting in these different ways, we learn that he is capable of it, or has the faculty of doing it. We should keep this in remembrance. And when we are involved in any obscurity or confusion, from the more common modes of speech, we shall do well to dismiss them for a time, and adopt language which is strictly and philosophically correct. In this way we may in many instances effectually disentangle a subject under consideration, and obtain views of it which are clear and satisfactory.

These observations are as true, in regard to moral quali ties, as in regard to actions. These qualities belong to the moral being, man. But in common discourse, we often ascribe moral qualities to particular faculties, and especially to the affections and acts. We say, the affections of the heart, the determinations of the will, and the voluntary actions, are good or bad, praise-worthy or blame-worthy. And it is sometimes represented, that all moral qualities are to be predicated directly of actions, and of actions only. But such representations cannot be literally true; nor can any thinking man seriously believe them to be so. Take an action which is judged by all to be morally wrong, and worthy of blame and punishment. Do we really blame and punish the action? When a man commits the act of stealing; do the civil magistrates condemn and imprison the act? When a man commits the act of murder, is it the murderous act that is put to death? The act itself began and ended perhaps in a moment. And even during that moment, it had no existence separate from the agent. Had we stood by, and

witnessed the act of theft or murder, the real object of our disapprobation and abhorrence would have been, the wicked agent himself, the thief, the murderer. The agent has a permanent existence. And though many years may have passed away since the criminal action was perpetrated, the action itself having now no existence except in memory, and no action like it having been committed since, still we hold the agent responsible for it, and consider him to be as really worthy of punishment, as he was at the very time when he was engaged in perpetrating the criminal deed. We do indeed speak familiarly of the wickedness and ill-desert of the act; but, in strict propriety, wickedness and ill-desert can be predicated only of the agent. If we say, the act is wicked and ill-deserving; our real meaning is, that he who commits it is so; as our conduct clearly shows. All human actions and qualities are, then, attributable to man, the agent, and to him only. This view of the subject agrees, I am confident, with the practical judgement of all men.

When you read the life of Howard, and attend to the high commendations which the biographer bestows upon his actions, calling them benevolent, philanthropic, humane, kind, self-denying, disinterested, and generous; you un-. derstand him as commending Howard himself, and as applying all these honourable epithets to him, as the doer of these actions. In grammatical construction the epithets do. indeed belong to his actions. But what of that? Your thoughts always fix upon Howard himself, as philanthropic, humane, self-denying, and disinterested. These attributes truly belong to a person, and to nothing else. And nothing else can be the real object of our esteem, gratitude, or love. When such qualities are predicated of actions, it is only in a secondary, relative sense, as the actions indicate the disposition or character of the person who performs them. To be benevolent, is to wish well to others. Does an action wish well to others? Has an action desire or volition? Can an action enjoy a reward?

I have dwelt so long, and with some repetition, upon this point, because I have been desirous of making it as clear and certain as possible; and because, though it seems perfectly obvious, and though conscience and common sense always hold it as a practical truth, it has often been overlooked; and men have reasoned about actions, as though the common phrase

ology, which ascribes moral qualities and relations to them, were literally and philosophically true.

In what light then are outward, visible actions to be regarded? I answer; so far as our moral relations are concerned, they are to be regarded principally as indications of the character of the agent; or, if you prefer it, as giving character to the agent, that is, visible character. To God the character is known, before those actions take place which manifest it to us. The Searcher of hearts was perfectly acquainted with the internal character of Judas, or the qualities of his mind, before he did those things by which his character was developed. But his fellow men could not search his heart, and accordingly could not know his character, except as his actions made it visible. In like manner the children of Israel were put to various trials in the wilderness, that they might know what was in them; not that they might be made different from what they were, but that they might, by their conduct, discover their own real character, and make it manifest to others. According to common apprehension, the real, internal character of a man, his character as God sees it, essentially consists in what is usually called his disposition, inclination, or propensity. To say, a man has a benevolent disposition, or a disposition to do good, is the same as to say, he has a benevolent character; he is a benevolent man.

It has been common with those who have written on mental science, to use the word disposition or inclination, to express not only that current of affection of which we are directly conscious, but also that state of mind which precedes the exercise of affection, and which is developed by it,—and which becomes the subject of consciousness only in consequence of its being thus developed. The thing intended by the word disposition is, I think, familiar to every one, and is as clearly apprehended, as any thing which relates to the nature and attributes of the mind. If we attend to a few of the instances in which the word is commonly used, we shall find that, ordinarily, no one has any doubt as to its propriety, or any difficulty in understanding it; how abstruse and incomprehensible soever the subject may be, when treated metaphysically.

Take the case of Judas, at the grave of Lazarus. His mind, we suppose, was intensely occupied with a variety of thoughts and feelings, while he witnessed the events which

took place on that memorable occasion. He doubtless sympathized with the weeping friends, and was filled with astonishment at that omnipotent word which raised Lazarus from the dead. But while he was the subject of these thoughts and feelings, the real character of Judas was the same as at other times. He had an avaricious disposition. This cannot be doubted. He might indeed have had, at the time, no thought of money, and no exercise of covetousness. Still he had a disposition or propensity to love money. The proof of this is, that as soon as circumstances varied, and the thought of money arose in his mind, he had the same covetous desire, as before. Who can suppose that the character of that miser, or, which is the same thing, his propensity to love money, ceased, because his mind was, for a time, occupied with other things? The character of John was different. He had no such disposition to love money. If he had been tempted as Judas was, the temptation would have met with an opposite disposition, and would have been repelled with abhorrence.

Suppose another case. A man in prison has been long practised in stealing. His solitary confinement at night, his employment by day, and the religious instructions he receives, produce an apparent change, so that he weeps at the remembrance of his crimes, and resolves never to steal again. But the change is only apparent. There is no real alteration in his moral character. Now what is more common in such a case, than to say, he has in reality the same disposition to steal, as formerly; and he will act it out, and make it manifest, as soon as tempting circumstances occur. The thing here intended by disposition, is plainly something distinct from the present exercises of the mind.

Take the example of a decided Christian, whose mind is occupied with a mathematical demonstration, or engrossed with the reasoning and eloquence of a distinguished statesman, and whose thoughts are, for the time, wholly withdrawn from God. We are accustomed to say, that whatever the present thoughts and feelings of such a man may be, he has a fixed disposition to love God, or an habitual principle of piety; and that there is no need of a change in his disposition, or governing moral principle, in order to excite his love, his heart being already renewed, and prepared to love, as soon as the object is seen. In this he differs essentially from an unregenerate man, whose enmity

will be excited by a clear view of the divine character, and who, on that very account, is generally considered as having a disposition opposed to God, although he may not now have any conscious exercises of enmity.

Take the case of affectionate parents, who, at a particular time, have no thought of a beloved absent child, and of course no exercise of affection towards him. But they have what is called a disposition to love their child, a principle of parental affection. In this respect, they differ widely from those parents who are "without natural affection." They may all agree in this, that they are now wholly occupied with other subjects, and have no present thought or feeling respecting their children. But there is an essential difference in character. These parents have a kind, affectionate disposition; but those have not. If you doubt this, you may soon have your doubt removed. Let the parents first mentioned see their child returned from a long absence, or receive a letter from him, and their hearts instantly overflow with emotions of love and joy; while the other parents, in like circumstances, are as unmoved as statues.

There are two men, one of whom has always shown himself to be mild and gentle, the other, irascible and violent. What is more common than to say of the first, he has a mild temper, a disposition to bear af fronts and injuries with meekness, or, that he is inclined to feelings of gentleness and kindness; and of the other, that he has an irritable temper, or a propensity to be angry and violent? And we say these things of them without respect to any present exercises which indicate what their disposition is. The existence of the particular disposition which is attributed to them, is, I admit, inferred from past exercises of it; but the disposition is believed and declared to exist, when there are no exercises of it. It is indeed spoken of with relation to future exercises, and as the ground of them; for when we predicate a disposition of any one, we do it on the supposition that he will be likely to have certain feelings hereafter, if circumstances occur which are suited to excite them.

Suppose one example more. There are two judges, one of whom we say has a corrupt disposition, a principle of selfishness, and is inclined to take bribes; and the other of whom we say has a firm principle of honesty and honour, an integrity of heart, an uprightness of disposition, which no temptation can turn aside. And yet these two judges may