gences. The good character is founded on a rock; the soul must possess moral principle. The beautiful character is adorned with graces and affections; the soul must possess keen sensibilities, and tender emotions. And the original character breathes into every achievement, its own deepest spirit: the soul must possess some element, whether we call it genius or individuality, which shall blend with these elements of strength, and purity, and beauty, the workings and tendencies of a deeper spirit. It is a well-know law of the mind, as of nature, that no power has any actual existence till it is called into exercise. The object which calls it into exercise is a condition to its existence, as essential as a first cause. In precisely this sense the elements of character are conditioned on the state. The state cannot create them. They are born, not made. But their action, their inner energies and outer manifestations, are possible only under some condition involved in the state. For although there are in the material world unnumbered objects of thought, conceptions of these objects alone, are not thoughts, but only emotions, and of a low order too. It is an instinctive conviction of man in every condition, that there are only two classes of beings in the universe, that have any worth in themselves. One is the class to which he himself belongs, humanity. The other is the class above him, deity. If he is placed in such relations with these beings, that higher conceptions of them blend with his conceptions of nature, the product is intellectual and moral ideas. For the moral sense is called into action to detect the design of nature for man's elevation and God's glory; and the intellect to discover the means of accomplishing these ends; and in this new universe, the serenest emotions rise in the soul: the torrent loses it terror in the sublimity of its power for good; the woodlands possess new beauties, for they glow with man's present happiness; and "The sky he looks up to, though glorious and fair, Is looked up to the more, because heaven is there." Conceptions of humanity and deity, are therefore conditional to the existence of our intellectual, and moral, and emotional nature. But on any condition below the state, they are either wanting altogether, defective, or untrue. They are wanting altogether in the aimless mind of the savage. The beauty and power of nature arouse only an undefined pleasure or terror, but no ideas of adaptation to moral ends. They are defective in wild hordes, and nomadic tribes. The mind detects in nature only the means of satisfying the wants of the body, and the evidences of the "Great Spirit," whose power it reads with terror, whose moral attributes it cannot decipher from nature's mysterious and precious symbols. They are untrue, in half-civilized nations. Here man rises from brute instinct and ordinary sagacity, and becomes capable of intellectual and moral action. But his ideas of the relation of nature to man, and of both to God, are deformed. In each of these conditions, the individual is radically defective in the elements of character. Now observe what they each possess, what they lack of the elements of the state: The first has nothing in common with the state. Man is alone, and he is a brute. The second has the single element of association; the state is forming, the intellect is dawning. The third adds government. The moral sense recognizes the obligations and rights of men. This is an end to attain. The intellect has made use of the means. But it has fallen into a radical error. Men are governed, they do not govern themselves. Individual responsibility is weakened. Comprehensive benevolence is suppressed. If the nation has reached no truer government than absolutism, the individual will struggle in vain for symmetry of character. The few great characters that blaze out from the midnight history of despotism are political comets that have wandered wildly from their orbits. Now supply the element still wanting, to make the nation the state, constituency. Let the individual feel himself a part of the state; he is the state. The largest and most attractive objects of thought, are now open to him, and forced upon his thought. The highest incentives to virtue are offered him. In the intimate relations of such a society, his wit or gravity, his humor or seriousness, whatever qualities he may possess original with himself, are called into ready exercise. The elements of his character are therefore complete and in harmonious existence. The elements of character are conditioned on the elements of the state. II. In analyzing the conditions of the development of individual character, we have three classes of data; the fact, the nature of human development, and the sources of human development. The facts lie upon every page of history. In the states of antiquity, individual development was rapid and symmetrical. At the shrine of those majestic republics, bowed the uncivilized world. By alliance with them alone, and by citizenship in them, the barbarian reached a stage of development distinguishable from surrounding darkness. Yet human development did not continue, even in this favored condition. The state struggled up to its zenith. Individual character was making the same struggles, erecting the same trophies. Then came to the former its hour of lethargy. The latter was paralyzed. The disastrous struggles of Grecian progress had more of hope for the individual, than the sleeping grandeur of her decline. Strong as the Parthenon, beautiful as the vale of Tempe, the Grecian mind was then as powerless as either; for the inner life was departed, which had given to art, and nature, and mind, their deep significance. The same law holds good under the better principles and brighter promises of Christian nations. When this new influence dawned upon the world, both the state and the individual felt its power. They made more radical, safer progress than before. But the state was at length burdened with the rubbish of old idolatries and traditions; its progress was arrested. At the same point of time, the mind began to grow dim with superstitions, and then for a long night knew no waking. Life has again returned to mind and state, and both are now enacting a history, which abounds with the same truth, the infallible deduction of fact, the progress of the state, is the condition of individual development. A conclusion entirely consistent with the nature of human development. This is a social work. There may have been exceptions; Socrates, Luther, and Bacon were; but as a general rule, men are awakened and developed, if at all, in common. The first condition to intellectual development is an ever increasing stimulus to energy. This can flow only through the widely and deepening channel of human interests. Let these interests be closely linked together. Let each man be his "brother's keeper." Let that brother's success and failure, mites and treasures, life and leaven, be his own; and rest or falling back is impossible. There is always some pressing exigency; some half hidden truth to be called to light; some old truth to be adapted to a new want. All the powers of the mind are in earnest, consistent action. Intellectual development moves apace. But this close union of interests, this pressing demand for labor of every kind, this rising of new truths affecting man's welfare, these are all the unerring signs of the progressive state. Indeed it is the very opposite, the unhinging of interest, the dying out of mutual coöperation, that breaks the power and withers the life of the state, and ushers in, to the full extent of the fearful metaphor, what Dante calls "the HELL of the lukewarm." But this truth is admitted by many who yet deny that the close relations of men in society, are conducive to virtue. The sentiment is often expressed, and oftener felt in the "society where none intrudes," that purity dwells alone with nature and with God; that man mars where he treads, and the closer the union of society, the deeper the contagion of his presence. The philosopher, however, who speculates in solitude upon the attractions of virtue, has derived his highest and purest ideas from the very association he shuns. Moral development is preeminently social. The influences of society, instead of vitiating will elevate the motives of men. For notwithstanding the brilliance in which vice is invested, the higher qualities of our nature do possess "enduring strength, acknowledged sovereignty." As the relations of men grow closer, so that the good and evil of their actions are under their own observation, and as they grow wider, so that the waves of their influence flow out in ever-broadening circles, till they agitate the whole ocean of time, and wash the shores of eternity, these qualities will rise up in sterner and holier life, to display their power and assert their rule. Moral development is, therefore, conditioned on a union of men in society, at once so extended and so intimate, that their highest good shall become more and more apparent, their mutual rights and obligations more clearly defined. All these are the distinguishing moral features of the progressive state. Another evidence on this point, is derived from a distinction not heretofore observed in the sources of human development. "The two great sources of human development," says Guizot, "are Humanity and Religion." The impulses of our nature, the passions and intelligences of the soul; the beauties and deformities, the struggles and triumphs, the miseries and destinies of man; these are workings of the human spirit, these the interests of the human race. Together, they make up the full significance of Humanity. Faith in an inferred or revealed Deity, devotion to his will; the labors which have their end and reward in a world to come; these are the workings of the devout, the regenerate spirit, these the interests of the Divine being. This is religion. Now in this distinction, the questions that concern us are, what are the defects of either of these sources when separate from the other, what their extent in union, and what the conditions of the union? That this unholy separation is possible, is evident from mournful facts and sinful hearts. It is true we have two natures; one that draws us up to the infinite, the other that binds us close to the finite. But it is alike the condition of our moral nature that either may lose life by neglect, the other grow in the empty soul to unnatural power. Such is often the fact. The influences in the development of character, may flow from Hu manity alone. The result is never insignificant, sometimes brilliant. It is often said that our nature is a ruin. But surely it is a mighty ruin. The pillars of its former strength are still strong. Its arches are fair, though the fairest have fallen. And even from out its crevices of decay creep such green mosses of sympathy, and about its crumbling towers cling such gentle ivies of affection, that we love the very deformities that have gathered around them these exquisite beauties. Far from us be the spirit of the Cynic, to scoff at the dignity of human nature. There is in gratitude, and generosity, and integrity, a beauty that is worthily admired. There is in human intellect, and human taste, unsuspected power. It found its perfect expresssion in the Aesthetics of the Greeks. A life devoted to the study of human nature and human interests achieved such works as Hume's, and Gibbon's, and Shakspeare's. So also Religion may be alone in the development of character. The intellect is concentrated upon the attributes of the Infinite. The motives are drawn from the eternal world. The affections are centered in the fountain of all good. These influences are higher and purer than the human; so have been the characters of eminent saints. But brilliant and holy as these exclusive developments may sometimes be, their defects are always radical, generally disastrous. The cultivation of the human intellect and taste, without the higher ideas and purer sentiments that flow from religion, leads to Atheism, or to Pantheism. Mere philanthropy tends to develop the man of one idea. One theory, perhaps impracticable, engages all his zeal; one wrong, perhaps imaginary, all his denunciation. Under such influences, his character grows every day more misshapen. Nor are The influences of religion alone, are equally incapable of a true development, and far more liable to corruption. Faith and devotion without human feeling and intelligence, are unnatural at best, and rapidly degenerate into superstition. Religious zeal, without a consistent regard for the interests of man, deserves in every case the rebuke " zeal without knowledge," and naturally warm into bigotry and fanaticism. the effects of the mind thus educated, confined to itself. As philanthropy alone would dethrone God, so religion alone would degrade man. enthusiast in seeking to subject every other mind to his own influences, carries religion into a wide field of illegitimate labor. The institutions of religion, whose objects are defined by their great Head to be exclusively spiritual, are charged with the most important functions of the state, intellectual and moral education. The transfer from responsibility The |