Civil government deals chiefly with the relations of man to his fellow-man. It coincides with the Divine government. They each aim at the control of the lower nature of man, and the development of his higher nature. The means they employ are the same in principle. They address the same passions. The rewards and punishments of the one are in this life, and of the other chiefly in the life to come. Withal, the civil has the sanction of the Divine, and the Divine should always have the sanction of the civil, government. But still they are entirely distinct, and should not be confounded either in theory or in practice. The one is secular, and the other is Divine.

Now, we say that civil government—for of that we are called more particularly to speak—is a necessity of man’s condition. It dates back as early as the creation of man. God himself established it in the law he gave to govern the first relation that existed on earth—the relation between Adam and his “helpmeet.” After the fall, a necessity arose which gave it a new and more important bearing. We soon see it ramifying itself through all society, and dealing with all the relations of life.

Its necessity and authority, as a great means of controlling the lower nature of man, is among the permanent beliefs of mankind. Neither legislators nor philosophers originated these beliefs. They are among the intuitions of man. The common judgment of mankind is not more assured that man exists, than that fallen man must be controlled in his appetites, propensities, and passions—the sum of what is often considered his interest and his happiness—by the physical powers of government. Each individual man feels that he needs its powerful sanctions to arm him against himself, when violently tempted to do wrong; and that he needs its sanctions to protect him from outrage and wrong from his fellow-men, when moved by similar forces. The instincts of animal nature are not more certain in their movements than are the intuitive perceptions and spontaneous feelings of mankind, causing them to lean upon the strong arm of civil government, to control the propensities and passions, and to promote the free exercise of the higher moral nature of man.

Government is the whole society in action. No people was ever known to exist for any definite period without government. Sometimes, it is true, the form has been the result of implied understandings among the people—as when “there was no judge in Israel:” at others, a master-spirit has assumed the reins, and been deferred to by common consent; and at others, it has been modified by formal processes—such as conventions and constitutions. Be this, however, as it may, government has always existed. Legislators did not make it. They have had much to do in modifying, directing, and often in corrupting the form; but nothing to do in originating government, in any proper sense of the term. It sprang spontaneously from the common sense of mankind. An agent indispensable to self-preservation was certainly coeval with the race.

In its true generic sense, that is, in a sense equally applicable to all forms, government is control by the authority of God and the people. God, in his word, declares the authority of the magistrate to be his ordinance; and this accords with the intuitive belief and feeling of necessity of all mankind: not that either approves in all cases of the form which government assumes, but that the generic principle, in all cases, has the sanction of each.

The legitimate object of government is to secure to the people the highest amount of freedom which their moral condition and relative circumstances will admit. The means which it employs to effect this object, are, 1. Suitable penalties, addressed to their hopes and fears, to lay them under such restraints as to the indulgence of their appetites, propensities, and passions, as thereby to prevent them from operating as a bar to the free exercise of their intellectual and moral powers in pursuit of the essential good; and, 2. The security which it offers to every man, in the exercise of the higher powers of his nature, that he may do it without restraint from the passions of men; or, in other words, to guarantee to every man the free exercise of his essential power to do good.

That both the object of government, and the means which it employs, are correctly stated, will not be disputed. All men concur in these views. They underlie all our opinions and reasonings on the subject of civil government. But in assenting to this much, (and how can it be avoided?) may we not stand committed to much more than many theoretical politicians are aware?

Let us trace the logical inferences which arise from the principles discussed.

I. Man, we find, is endowed with a self-acting power of will, which is called mental liberty, and hence he is accountable. For although it is admitted that there cannot be a volition without a motive, yet it is an idea inseparable from our notions of mental liberty, that there cannot be any thing in these motives necessitating the volition; for in that case it would not be free. But he is free to adopt either the right or the wrong motive of volition, and therefore he is accountable for his actions. Nor does it follow that this liberty confers the right to do wrong. His liberty, as we have shown, is to be understood in a sense agreeing with the coincident ideas of right and duty. We are all conscious, that so soon as we perceive the good, in any case, we have a feeling of obligation to observe it as the rule of conduct, and to avoid the contrary as wrong; that is, each man has a conscience. Hence, although man has the power to do wrong, he has no right to do wrong; but only a right to do that which is good. Such, and such only, is the true subjective right of self-control. It is not a right to do as we may please, unless we shall please to do that which, in itself, is right; that is, the good.

II. His fall, we have seen, has had the effect to place him in such circumstances, that the attributes of his lower nature, his appetites, propensities, and passions, often have such ascendency as motives of action, that he is always liable to do wrong. Many reasons, à priori, could be given for this. The mind is first brought into contact with the outward world through the bodily senses. They come first into play; and hence the natural sensibilities are first developed. The will, in the form of spontaneous volition, is accustomed, from earliest life, to act from these as a motive, for the reason that there is no other from which it can act. The pure intelligence, the percipient of the good, and the corresponding feelings of obligation, unfold themselves slowly; and long before it may be said that the mind is matured, the will is accustomed to make the natural sensibilities the motive of spontaneous volition. Now the will is, like all other faculties of the mind, subject to the great law of habit; and if not checked, restrained according to the true idea of government, a habit of submission is formed, which, if not early dissolved, becomes a confirmed habit. The will, instead of being the governing power of the mind, becomes, in truth, the faculty governed. It has lost the power of self-control. It has become the slave of passion—confirmed in the habit of submission. It is precisely at this point of mental degradation that Paul declares of “vessels of wrath,” those who have brought themselves into this state by their own act, that “they are fitted to destruction.” Now, in view of these facts and the principles already established, what are the rights of man?