Love and law rule the universe. It is this second moral element, that of law, which we have next to consider. Inductive morality had its origin in experience; it assumed the form of social restriction, then of fixed law and precept, and culminated in the sense of duty—a conscientious avoidance of that which was thought to be wrong, and an earnest desire to do what was looked upon as right.

The history of this phase of morality differs essentially from that of the phase we have just considered. The sense of duty, the conscientious sentiment, so highly developed in man, seems largely non-existent in the lower animals, so far as observation has taught us. Yet it is not quite wanting, its rudiment is there, and this rudiment is capable of development. It may be, indeed, that a highly developed sense of duty exists in the ants and bees, to judge from their diligent labors for the benefit of the community. But the clearest examples of conscientious performance of duty are those seen in the case of the dog, in which animal intimate association with man has developed something strongly approaching a conscience. A dog needs only to be well treated to display a sense of dignity and a self-respect analogous to these feelings in man. A sensitive resentment against injustice in high-caste and carefully nurtured dogs has often been observed; while shame for an act which the animal knows to be forbidden has been seen in a hundred instances. The sense of duty is occasionally very strongly developed. Many striking examples of this are on record. A dog will often defend his master's property with the greatest devotion, letting no temptation draw him away from the path of duty.

An instance has been related to the writer in which an extraordinary display of this feeling was made. A gentleman, on coming home at night, found he had forgotten his key, and attempted to enter the house by the window of a room in which his dog was on duty as a night-watch. To his surprise and annoyance the animal would not permit him to enter, and attacked him every time he tried to climb in. The animal knew him well, responded to his attempts to fondle it, but the moment he made an attempt to enter the window it became hostile and seemed ready to spring upon him. In its small brain was the feeling that no one, master or stranger, had the right to enter that house at night by the window, and it was there to perform its duty without regard to persons. In the end, the gentleman was obliged to leave and seek shelter elsewhere.

The development of the sense of duty and the growth of moral restriction in primitive man were probably very slow, much more so than the evolution of intelligence. The social habit of man doubtless rendered necessary, at an early period, some restraints on the actions of individuals, and these in time gained the strength of unwritten law; but many of them were scarcely what we should call moral obligations. Many such restrictions exist among savage tribes to-day, and to these we must turn for examples of their character. We, for instance, look upon theft and lying as immoral practices, but such is not the case with savages generally, most of whom will steal if the opportunity offers, while they will lie in so transparent and useless a manner as to indicate that they see nothing wrong in this practice. And yet the aborigines of India, many of whom are very immoral according to our standard, are often strongly averse to untruthfulness. "A true Gond," says Mr. Grant, "will commit a murder, but he will not tell a lie." It is well known that truthfulness was one of the chief virtues of the ancient Persians, a virtue that was accompanied by much which we would call immoral. The Hindoo devotee is exceedingly tender of the lives of animals, while he is often callous to human suffering. Disregard of human suffering, indeed, showed itself strongly through all the past ages, men being slaughtered with as little compunction as if they were so many wild beasts, while frightful tortures were inflicted with an extraordinary absence of humane feeling. And these excesses were committed by persons who in the ordinary affairs of life were frequently tender in feeling and conscientious in action.

In truth, moral development from this point of view has always shown a one-sidedness that goes far to discredit the doctrine of intuitive conceptions of right and wrong. The indications are strong that rules of conduct are not inherent in the human mind, that men become moral to the extent that they are taught the principles of justice, and grow one-sided in their ideas of virtue through incompleteness in their moral education. What we call sinfulness is largely a matter of custom and convention. Men cannot properly be said to sin when their actions are checked by no conscientious scruples, and what one people would consider atrocious instances of wrong-doing, might be looked upon as innocent and even estimable by a people with a different moral standard. Religion has much to do with this. The human sacrifices and cannibal feasts of the Aztec Indians, for instance, were regarded by them as good deeds, obligations which they owed to their gods. Yet this people had attained to some of the refined practices and moral ideas of civilization.

The leading principles of correct human conduct are few and simple. They were arrived at early in the history of human thought, and little has since been added to them. They arose as results of human experience, as necessary principles of restraint in developing communities, and were nearly all extant in prehistoric times as the unwritten laws of social organization. What creed-makers did was to put these ancient axioms of morality on record, and offer them to the world as codes of religious observance. They could not have been of primitive origin, since the most of them do not exist among the savage tribes still with us. There is nothing, indeed, to show that any idea of sinfulness exists in the minds of the lowest savages, the rules of conduct which they possess being such regulations as are necessary to the existence of the most undeveloped community.

Of the various codes of morals, much the best known to us is that given to the Israelites by Moses, the famous "Ten Commandments." The most of these—as of all such codes—were evidently legal in origin, rules necessary for the existence of a civilized society, restrictions controlling the conduct of men toward one another. It was the creed-makers who first gave such legal restrictions the strength of moral obligations, and announced that their infraction would be punished by divine agencies, even if they should escape human retribution.

Many hurtful acts, indeed, came to be viewed as crimes alike against God and man, and punishable in the interests of both. Political and moral obligations thus shaded together; some of the evils of the world being punished by human agencies alone, some by divine, some by both. It must be said, however, that throughout the whole progress of human civilization the influence of moral obligations has been rising, while the necessity for political laws has declined in like proportion. In ancient times the penalties for crimes against the community were terribly severe, while religion threatened those who offended the divine powers with frightful future punishments. The necessity for such severe restrictions has long been decreasing, and the more vividly it is felt that immoral deeds or debased thoughts and purposes will be visited by a spiritual retribution, the less necessity is there for laws and penalties. Thus the limitation of human actions by government is growing less necessary than of old, in conformity with the growing sense of spiritual degradation in evil and of spiritual elevation in good deeds. Mild laws have succeeded the severe edicts of the past, and with a considerable section of the community restrictive laws have become useless, conscience taking the place of law. In such men the impulse to evil deeds dies unfulfilled, and the penalty for wrong-doing within themselves may be more severe than that which the community would inflict. In the souls of such men sits a spiritual tribunal by which evil thoughts are tried and punished before they can develop into evil acts.

This consideration of the development of the moral principles and dogmas has been necessarily brief. In what direction it is leading must be evident to all, and we can with assurance look forward to a condition of human society in which conscience will have become a stronger element of the intellect than now, the sense of moral obligation a more prevailing sentiment, and legal restriction a less necessary governmental requirement.

Of all the isms of the day altruism is far the noblest and most promising. In this opponent of selfism, this regard for the rights and happiness of others equally with our own, we find the link which binds together the two halves of the moral principle. The love sentiment on the one hand, the sense of duty on the other, meet and combine in the zeal of altruism, for which a truly developed conscience is merely another term. Those who have the good of others strongly at heart, who are truly Christian in a practical realization of the brotherhood of mankind, can safely be set free from all the reins of law, and trusted to do the right thing from innate feeling instead of outside compulsion. And, trusting in the future full development of the altruistic sentiment, we can hopefully look forward to a time in which the moral law will exist alone, conscience become the controlling force in human actions, and government let fall the whip which it has so long held in threat over the shrinking back of man.