It is, however, not necessary to go to what may be termed the children of nature, to the untutored sons of the forest, to prove, not only the existence of sin, but also of a sinful disposition, of a natural tendency to evil even in the infant breast; it might be furnished to almost any extent from Mr. Owen’s own establishments, and from the lips of his own agents. It is possible that Mr. Owen himself, from his attachment to a favourite theory, and his desire to support it at all hazards, as well as from having his mind absorbed in the grand object which he has before him, may not see what is so plain to others; or, it may be that what appears black to them is white to him; but let his dancing masters, and the nurses of his infant children, be brought into an open court and fully examined, and they will testify to the satisfaction of every impartial jury, although composed even of Robert Owen’s followers, that some, at least, of these urchins, at an age when they could not have been taught these things, unless their mother’s milk imparted them, display passions and dispositions which indicate anything rather than an entire absence from evil. We shall require no other witnesses to prove that the nature of man is not naturally good, but is inherently depraved.
But, if man from his birth has an evil principle within him, (I would call it a depraved nature,) then Mr. Owen’s principles, however much they may modify and change the external character, will not avail in changing the heart. His system will no more produce the results which he promises, the paradise of joy which he pictures before his followers, than have the systems of the old world. And, therefore, he is only amusing and deluding those that attend to him with pleasing dreams which can never be realized. If this, however, were all, it would not much matter; he might be left to pursue his course undisturbed; but when it is known that the effect of his system, whatever may be his design, is to take off the mind from everything but what is connected with his earthly paradise, and so cause it to neglect, and even despise everything connected with eternity and everlasting life, and the happiness of the principle which never dies, it would be, not only a dereliction of principle, but also a want of love to one’s species, not to lift up the voice against him, and endeavour to warn such persons of their fatal error, and the destructive consequences which must, and will inevitably ensue.
But another fundamental principle of Mr. Owen’s system, as expressed in the 2nd and 3rd Fundamental Facts, and 13th Law, is, “Man is compelled by his original constitution, to receive his feelings and his convictions independently of his will;” and “his feelings, or his convictions, or both of them united, create the motive to action called the will, which stimulates him to act, and decides his actions;” and “each individual is so organized that he must believe according to the strongest conviction which is made upon his mind:” the plain meaning of which is, that man is not accountable for his belief, neither ought he to be considered accountable for his actions; and which, indeed, Mr. Owen does not leave his readers to deduce from his principles, but which he himself explicitly states. Thus, he says, “Man cannot be bad by nature, and it must,” therefore, “be a gross error to make him responsible for what nature and his predecessors have compelled him to be.” (Book of the New Moral World, p. 54.)
That man is not accountable, that he can think as he likes, and act as he pleases, without being amenable, either to God or man, for his thoughts or his actions, is a doctrine which will well accord with the wishes of all those who feel the idea of God and judgment a restraint upon their conduct, and human laws oftentimes a barrier in the way of indulging their evil desires. And it is lamentable to think how many, even of this description of persons, there are to be found in the world.
But it is a question of the deepest importance, whether or not this principle be true. Mr. Owen calls it a law and a fact; and if persons are willing to take what he says for granted, merely because he says it, and so to stake their character in this world, and their eternal well-being in another, upon his unsupported testimony, they may endeavour to satisfy themselves in believing it, and try to make and keep their consciences as easy as they can. What a happy thing it would be, if Mr. Owen’s saying that there is no judgment, and that man is not accountable, could make it be so! But is it so? We all know that Mr. Owen’s saying that there is no guilt in crime, that man acts only as he is compelled to do, and ought not, therefore, to be either punished or praised for what he does, does not release him from the responsibility imposed by human government and human laws; and it is well both for him and for us, that it does not; for only break the bonds of law, and leave each one to act as he likes, and what a pandemonium, instead of a paradise, we should have! Why even Mr. Owen himself is under the necessity, in his own paradise, of imposing laws, and putting very considerable restraint upon the wishes and the inclinations of those that expected when they entered his establishment to be perfectly happy in the enjoyment of their own will. As a proof of this, I beg to give an extract from a published statement of a visit paid to New Harmony, in America, by the Duke of Saxe Weimar, in April, 1826.
“On Sunday morning, the society met in the large building, and the meeting was opened by music. Mr. Owen delivered a discourse on the advantages of the society. In the evening the duke paid visits to the ladies, and witnessed philosophy, and the love of equality put to the severest trial with one of them, young and handsome. While she was singing, and playing very well on the pianoforte, she was told that milking of cows was her duty. Almost in tears, she betook herself to this servile employment, deprecating the new social system, and its so much prized equality. After the cows were milked, in doing which this pretty girl was trod on by one, and daubed by another, the duke made one in an aquatic party with the young ladies and some of the young philosophers, in a boat, upon the Wabash. The evening was beautiful. The duke’s heroine regaled the party with her sweet voice. Afterwards, the whole party amused themselves in dancing cotillions, reels, and waltzes, and with such animation as to render it, as the duke adds, quite lively. A new figure had been introduced into the cotillions, called the New Social System. Several of the ladies objected to dancing on Sunday. ‘We thought, however,’ writes the Duke, ‘that in this sanctuary of philosophy, such prejudices should be utterly discarded, and our arguments, as well as the inclination of the ladies, gained the victory.’” (Three years in North America, by James Stuart, Esq., vol. ii. p. 442.)
And not only is Mr. Owen under the necessity of passing laws, and of making those that belong to his establishment amenable to those laws, but the whole of his system is founded upon compulsion, both mental and bodily; for he would take infants from the care of their mothers, and put them under the care of his dancing-master, and there train them according to his model, and mould them according to his ideas; and that, no doubt, oftentimes very much against the inclination of the children themselves. The only difference between the present state of things, and the state which he wishes to introduce is, that he would put himself in the place of God, and of all human laws; and not only give laws to all his followers, but also enforce them. Whether the task would not be more than he could accomplish you shall judge by and by.
But as Mr. Owen cannot release us from the obligation of human laws, neither can he from that of the laws of God. Man may say, “Who is the Lord, that I should obey him?” but, even while he is saying it, he feels, whether he will or not, and is under the necessity of acknowledging to his own mind, that there is a Being above him whom he does not love, but from whose eye, and whose power he cannot escape; before whose dread tribunal he is conscious that he must stand, and be “judged according to the deeds which have been done in the body, whether they be good, or whether they be evil.” This is one of those eternal laws which are engraven, not only in the face of nature, but upon every mind and conscience, which Mr. Owen wishes to erase, and in the room of which he would write what he calls “the eternal laws of nature:” and in the accomplishment of his task, there are multitudes that would gladly help him, and contribute all the aid in their power; and, so eager are they for the accomplishment of his and their wishes, that they have even agreed to believe it, or rather, agreed to say that they believe it, and to act upon it, before it has been proved to be true.
Nor is it possible for them to prove it. They might as well attempt to prove that the sun does not shine at noonday, and they would have quite as much hope of success, as attempt to prove either to themselves or others, that “there is no God,” and that there is no hereafter. They may argue with themselves upon the subject, and attempt to convince themselves of the truth of what they wish to be true; and sometimes they may think they have satisfied themselves upon the point; but the next day, or perhaps the next hour, the sight of a funeral, the hearing of the death of a fellow creature, or even a sharp pain in their own bodies, sweeps away in a moment all the cobwebs which they have been weaving, and leaves them exposed to the naked truth, unsheltered and unprepared, that there is a judgment, and that they must stand and be judged.
And this judgment will be, whatever Mr. Owen may say to the contrary, not only for actions but for thoughts and opinions. And it is strictly reasonable that it should be so; for not only is man not compelled to believe, contrary to his will, but he is not compelled to believe at all. He is a rational and intelligent creature, and from the very constitution of his being, he must and can believe, only as he has evidence upon which his belief is to be founded. For the mind to believe without evidence, is like the eye seeing without light. But there may be light, and yet the eye may not see, for it may shut itself. And there may be evidence which would carry conviction to the mind if it were brought before it, and yet the mind may not be convinced, simply because it will not receive it, for it does not wish to be convinced. But who does not know that there are none so deaf as those who will not hear! And, in like manner, we say, “There are none so blind as those who will not see.” Men have the law which they are bound to obey—the law of God; they have the means of becoming acquainted with that law; they have the ability to perform all that this law requires, if they are so disposed; if, therefore, they break this law, it is not because they are compelled so to do, but their own voluntary act and deed; and reason tells them that it is just that they should be punished for their transgressions. In like manner, the gospel of Jesus Christ reveals to man a way of escape from the miseries of the fall, those miseries which Mr. Owen admits to exist, whatever he may say respecting the source from which they spring; which way is a provision of mercy, and an act of grace on the part of the Divine Being. For the accomplishment of it, he gave his own Son to die in the stead of man; and as the result of his death, he has offered salvation, and that freely, to every one that believeth. Now, the evidence, upon which these glorious truths rest, is such, so full, so clear, and so conclusive, that he may run that readeth; and man has the means of knowing these truths: if, therefore, he remain in ignorance respecting them, or when they are brought before him he does not believe them, it is entirely a wilful and a voluntary unbelief. For that he will be condemned, and reason will approve his doom.