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.)
