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Only here let us put aside those among the affections which are least dependent upon the will, such as we generally call the Feelings, because a man feels them involun- tarily. Nor do I wish to include at present those of a religious kind which seem higher, since at least they aspire to the highest object. But of the great mass of affections remaining, some have the greatest power to torment, and some to bless. The furious paroxysm of anger, and the scowling brow of discontent, with all the pale pining, the restlessness, and the crime, which make bad men scourges no less to themselves than their neigh- bours, have been often described by poets, and are proverbial among mankind. The man who harbours such guests in his mind, if ever he awaken from the madness which they inspire, confesses himself miserable under them, but he seldom knows how to escape firom their control. Yet there was, probably, a time in his life when he might have done so. But when such affections have waxed mighty, so that one suffers in constraining them, they are properly called passions, and the same change of name might have been applied to the appetites. When however any conflict, such as has been mentioned, takes place, it is fax mote terrible with an emotion which absorbs the whole personal BETTER AFFECrriONS. 127 being than with an appetite which only torments the body. Here then, as before, I wish you to observe, that if any man comes off triumphant in the straggle with the worst enemies that ever assail his peace, and with calm brow leads resentment or jealousy a silent captive, he obtains this deep joy only through the religious sentiment which the theory of the mate- rialist tends to obliterate/' "Is that altogether the case?" asked Wolff, "or do not scenery, music, and in general either quiet or distraction calm the disturbances of the mind?'' '^ Perhaps in such things there is a mitigating power," replied Blancombe; "especially in the roar of ocean, or the deep stillness of the mountains. For in fiiuch places there dwells silently something of the majesty of their Maker ; but after all, it is chiefly in virtue of the religious solemnity with which such things imbue the mind, that they have power to tranquillize it. Otherwise, the mere physical relief through any variety of silence or of noise can only divert for a time, and does not reach the deep sources of the more turbid passions. Or at least the case is so with many men, though possibly not with all. Whereas in prayer, which is the expression of the religious feeling, men find a wonderful relief. " But turn to our more pleasant sensations of mind, such as hope and love. These are things so necessary to us, that the springs from whence their instincts flow can never utterly be dried, but if they are denied a healthy outlet, they turn into dangerous bitterness. Yet all these either seldom or never con- tinue pure and blessed throughout any man's life, unless he has mingled them with that higher sentiment, which all along now we are beginning to have in mind. Who is a faithftd friend, or who is righteous in all the temptations of love and hatred, or whose hope is unshaken in distress, and his calm trust in some nnfiiiling resource continued throughout all the changes and chances of this mortal life ? I will render for myself no answer, bat only desire any one who has experience of the world to observe, whether such a description does not invariably apply 128 RELIGIOUS INSTINCTS. to persons who will be found on our side in this stage of the discussion, and not on that of the Chdrvdea. Go on now, if you please, to what I have called the higher, or more heavenly affections. We all know, there are such things as awe, and reverence, and trust, and love of that mental kind which fastens itself on unseen or ideal things. It would require many days for me to enlarge upon these affections, as each of them deserves. But any one can easily see, how one of them gives soberness, and another gentleness to a man^s character ; or again, how to trust in any friend essentially free from limit of time and dis- tance, and darkness or dimgeon, may strengthen an afflicted soul against eveiy fleshly or mental enemy ; while indeed none but those who have had experience can imagine, what deeds of self^evotion, and suffering, and charity, have been gone through by men who, in loving God, seem thereby to have imbibed somewhat of His nature. Whereas, on the other hand, these very feelings like the others, if they are not rightly directed, seem to fall back and harden in corruption. One becomes re- morse, and another shame, and another a torturing superstition. So that, in short, all the affections of man, which, trained in a particular way would either have begotten religion, or have cherished it, and in that case would make a man happy, useful, and honoured, — all these, if they are not allowed to grow into religion, harden and corrupt themselves into divers forms of misery. What conclusion then can I draw, but that, for some reason or other, religion is as necessary to a man's mind as the light of heaven is requisite to aid his bodily vision ?" " But I have never denied," here remarked Wolff, " that for a man's feelings to be rightly directed, is a very happy circum- stance ; nor have I so much argued against any general devo- tion, in which the instincts find a satisfaction, towards whatever mysterious Power may encompass the world. It is the unne- cessary minuteness of dogmatism, and the unwarranted assump- tions about a soul and a future state, with which my Ch&rv^ca client would find feult." CONSCIENCE. 129 "You have reminded me," replied Blancombe, "of what I doubted whether it should not be mentioned immediately after the Understanding and the Will — I mean the Conscience. But since the affections have much to do with it, and, in my own opi- nion, contribute essentially to its operations, it seemed right to defer it ; yet principally the Conscience is a product of the Under- standing and the Will, especially when these are biassed against their choice by an inclination from any passion. I must not, however, omit to mention with due honour what the venerable A'chdrya will esteem a wiser opinion. Many have imagined that conscience is a sense of the clash between divine know- ledge and our own guilty remembrance; as when our sense of doing a thing wrong, and God's sight of the wrong, come in collision. But, again, here it suffices me, if, either from want of penetration, or from a fear of thinking unbecomingly of the Most Blessed, any one will consider our conscience as ourself judging ourself ; or as the Mind discriminating right and wrong, such discrimination being most keenly sensitive as we become con- scious of wrong. Still please to observe, that conscience pre- supposes knowledge: and what kind of knowledge? Surely the most spiritual form of that higher kind which we have already seen belongs to nothing grosser than Mind; for neither the most abstract numbers or measures, nor the most subtle consequences ever deduced from any combination of them, imply a knowledge so little dependent on the bodily senses, as this faculty of forming moral judgments even on the thoughts of the heart, and awarding praise or blame according to a standard higher than even lan- guage can express. Much more then, I say, the whole power of conscience is an argument for greater faculties in man than belong to the brutes, and for a higher destiny awaiting him. If any one told us, he found a jury of tigers met to try any animal who had violated the laws of life, we should reject the Btoiy as not only a fiction but absurd; but there is no nation among men in which the power of conscience has not shewn itself so far as to devise some methods of aiming at justice and M. P. 9 130 CONSCIENCE. arresting crime. You see then how much better we are than the brutes; and better in virtue of a power which implies a knowledge, such as only a spiritual faculty could support, and perhaps only the Highest of all possible spirits keep alive.*' " But, if conscience were all that you say,'' interposed Wolff, "men of all nations would hear its voice alike, whereas there are all sorts of differences between the moral judgments of men." "Different applications, no doubt," answered Blancombe, "but all men agree in the fact of judging; all men have some right, and call some things wrong. The words praise and blame are nowhere unintelligible.