with an air of easy triumph, the two flippant questions: 'But who allows? What ought to be allowed ?'* These questions are as flimsy as they are flippant.

As to the first question, 'who allows'? it is utterly irrelevant. For it is no objection to any definition of liberty, that it does not tell by whom it is allowed, or established, or secured. The nature of liberty is one thing, and the means by it is established is another. Indeed, whether liberty were allowed or not among men, its nature remains the same; answering to an idea of the Divine Mind itself. The high office of a definition of liberty is, not to exhibit any poor forlorn fragment of freedom as it is found on earth, or under human institutions, but as it is in its own eternal essence. It describes, not what is, but what ought to be; and, instead of presenting a copy of any human work, or growth of time, it exhibits the radiant image and perfect model of freedom for all workmen and for all time. It is indeed only after liberty has been defined, that the question arises as to by whom, and how, it may be best established or realized. Hence, to object to a definition of liberty, as Dr. Lieber does, that it does not tell how, or by whom, it should be established, is exceedingly absurd. He might just as well object to the definition of a triangle, or a circle, that it does not say by whom it should be drawn or described. No two things are, indeed, more perfectly distinct, than the idea of liberty and the means by which it is ordained or established; and yet these two things are confounded throughout the work of Dr. Lieber; forming one of the many elements of darkness and confusion in all his speculations respecting the nature of freedom. This is nothing strange; it is merely a specimen of the gross confusion which reigns in his capacious head, or vast lumber room of infinite scraps of knowledge in huge masses of learned ignorance such as the world has seldom seen.

The second question, 'What ought to be allowed?' is easily answered. Every thing ought to be allowed, which the public good does not require to be forbidden. Or, in other words, no restraint should be imposed on the conduct *Vol. I, p. 43.

of the individual, unless such restraint be demanded by the good of society. This is the answer to Dr. Lieber's question. The same answer has frequently been returned to the very question propounded by him. It is, in fact, the answer which Locke, and Blackstone, and Paley, and Coleridge, not to mention a hundred others, have made to that question. Yet Dr. Lieber propounds this most difficult question, just as if it had never been answered, and, morover, as if it could not possibly be answered. How this stereotyped answer could have escaped his attention, we cannot imagine, unless a slight change in the mode of expression induced him to mistake an old for an entirely new question. Be this as it may, we shall leave the learned Doctor to meditate, if meditate he can, on the danger of disposing of the thoughts of a Montesquieu by the rapid glance of an unsteady eye. In reply to another definition. of civil liberty by Montesquieu, the learned Doctor says: 'We ask at once what security?' (Vol. I, p. 44.) The misfortune is, that he asked at once; if he had only reflected, or meditated, before he asked, he might have learned some little wisdom from the great author of The Spirit of Laws. Large bodies, it is said, move slow: it is certain that small minds move fast.

It is, if possible, still more wonderful that Mr. Mill should have overlooked the principle laid down by Locke, and Blackstone, and Paley, and Coleridge, and a host of others. For, as he was an avowed utilitarian in philosophy, we might assuredly have expected him to say, that the good of society is both the ground and the measure of human legislation. Or, in other words, that no law should restrain the conduct of individuals, unless it be necessary for the public good. But, instead of saying this in his work on liberty, he speaks as if he had never heard of such a principle, and complains that the world still stands in need of a criterion, or test, by which to determine the limit of the authority of society over the individual. The criterion was in his mouth; the test was on his lips; it was the fundamental principle of his philosophy. Yet, when he girded up his loins to write his new

gospel of Liberty, he seems to have left his first principles behind, and aimed at a philosophy above both himself and the world. Hence, quitting the terra firma of his former philosophy, he built his new theory of freedom out of abstractions, and located it among the clouds. Over himself, over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign.' Within this charmed circle, 'his independence is, of right, absolute.' Society must not on any ground whatever, invade this absolute independence and sovereignty of the individual. What! not even if the common good demands his services? Suppose, for example, that the common good demands his presence in the army; must society respect his sovereignty over himself, over his own body and mind '? Must she wait till he tenders his services; or, in case of need, may she just take possession of him, whether he will or no, and compel him to face the common enemy? Must she allow him to pursue his own good in his own way'; or may she make him pursue it in the line of his duty to the State? In this case, as in every other, the good of society constitutes both the ground and the measure of human legislation. Coleridge, though any thing but a utilitarian in general, had, nevertheless, the sagacity and wisdom to see, that utility is the only legitimate foundation of human laws, and consequently determines the limit of State-authority. On the contrary, Mr. Mill, in spite of his avowed utilitarianism, attempts to limit the authority of society over the individual, by means of his notion of abstract rights.

This notion is, indeed, so untenable, that it soon breaks down under Mr. Mill himself. He no sooner assumes the high ground of abstract right, in fact, that he feels it beginning to crumble under his feet. Having said, that' the only freedom which deserves the name, is that of pursuing our own good in our own way,' &c.; and that each is the proper guardian of his own health, whether bodily, or mental and spiritual,' he adds: Mankind are greater gainers by suffering each other to live as seems good to themselves, than by compelling each to live as seems good to the rest.' True in some cases, and false in others.

Whenever the members of society are, on the whole, great gainers by suffering the individual to live as seems good to himself; then, most assuredly, he should be permitted to live as he pleases. But, in every case, in which the good of society requires his disposition to live as seems good to himself to be restrained, it is the duty of society to impose such restraint; and compel him, if possible, to live, not as he pleases, but as he ought to live, or as the good of society requires. The moment Mr. Mill says, (and this is the purpose for which the above extract is made,) ́ Mankind are greater gainers,' he recognizes utility as the ground and reason of the action of society. He adopts the principle of utility as the test of his test; and, after all falls back for support on the solid and immutable ground from which he had departed. Why, then, did he not begin, as he was compelled to end, with the great principle of the good of society? Why ascend to the lofty region of abstract right only to descend to the low ground of concrete good? Is not the King of thinkers,' indeed, a little like the King of France; who, it is said, with twice ten thousand men, marched up the hill and then marched down again'?

It may well be doubted, whether there is any part of the conduct of the individual, which relates exclusively to himself. But, waiving this, suppose there is such a part of his conduct, and also that he is, by reason of his uncivilized condition, not qualified to regulate it properly; what is the duty of society, or the government, in such case? Mr. Mill himself being the judge, it is the duty of society, or of the government, to take possession of him with a despotic hand, and, instead of permitting him 'to pursue his own good in his own way,' make him conform to a will higher and better than his own.* What, then, becomes of his grand universal principle, that the individual is, of right, absolutely sovereign over himself, over his own body and mind'? Merged and lost in the principle of expediency, or the good of society.

'The Liberty of Thought and Discussion' forms the *Representative Government. Chap. II.

subject of the longest and most elaborate chapter of Mr. Mill's book. Toleration is, of course, the great burden of this portion of his dissertation. In the examination of this chapter, the second of his book, we intend to show: 1. That Mr. Mill rests the cause of toleration on false ground; 2. That he is grossly inconsistent with himself, both in theory and practice, in regard to toleration; 3. That the same gross inconsistency attaches to the whole school of which Mr. Mill is a member; 4. That he indulges in statements respecting facts, or events, in this country, which show a fanatical and reckless disregard of the claims of truth; 5. That the principles advocated by him in The Contest in America,' are at war, not only with his former teaching, but also with the teaching of all former ages; 6. That those principles are at war with the dictates of reason and justice, as well as with the wisdom of ages; 7. Mr. Mill's attack on the morality of the New Testament is a compound of ignorance, self-contradiction, and vanity, which alone is sufficient to discredit, if not to disgrace, his pretensions as an apostle of Liberty, or as a sound thinker.

I. In the first place, then, Mr. Mill rests the cause of toleration on false ground. We state this ground in his own words: The opinion which it is attempted to suppress by authority may possibly be true. Those who desire to suppress it, of course deny its truth; but they are not infallible. They have no authority to decide the question for all mankind, and exclude every other person from the means of judging. To refuse a hearing to an opinion, because they are sure that it is false, is to assume that their certainty is the same thing as absolute certainty. All silencing of discussion is an assumption of infallibility. Its condemnation may be allowed to rest on this common argument, not the worse for being common.'

True, it is not the worse for being common; nor is it the better for being weak. Indeed, there is no more effectual way to betray a good cause, than to place it on insecure or false grounds, which may be easily demolished by an adversary. Men persecute, not because they deem