of which is learned
only by experience. The moral faculty reveals simple 'ideas' of right
and wrong, which are incapable of any further analysis. But besides
these, there is a hierarchy of other instincts or desires, which he
calls 'implanted' because 'for aught we know' they may be of 'arbitrary
appointment.'[197] Resentment, for example, is an implanted instinct, of
which the 'final cause' is to defend us against 'sudden violence.'[198]
Stewart's analysis is easygoing and suggests more problems than it
solves. The general position, however, is clear enough, and not, I
think, without much real force as against the Paley form of
utilitarianism.

The acceptance of the doctrine of 'final causes' was the inevitable
course for a philosopher who wishes to retain the old creeds and yet to
appeal unequivocally to experience. It suits the amiable optimism for
which Stewart is noticeable. To prove the existence of a perfect deity
from the evidence afforded by the world, you must of course take a
favourable view of the observable order. Stewart shows the same tendency
in his Political Economy, where he is Adam Smith's disciple, and fully
shares Smith's beliefs that the harmony between the interests of the
individual and the interests of the society is an evidence of design in
the Creator of mankind. In this respect Stewart differs notably from
Butler, to whose reasonings he otherwise owed a good deal. With Butler
the conscience implies a dread of divine wrath and justifies the
conception of a world alienated from its maker. Stewart's 'moral
faculty' simply recognises or reveals the moral law; but carries no
suggestion of supernatural penalties. The doctrines by which Butler
attracted some readers and revolted others throw no shadow over his
writings. He is a placid enlightened professor, whose real good feeling
and frequent shrewdness should not be overlooked in consequence of the
rather desultory and often superficial mode of reasoning. This, however,
suggests a final remark upon Stewart's position.

In the preface[199] to his _Active and Moral Powers_ (1828) Stewart
apologises for the large space given to the treatment of Natural
Religion. The lectures, he says, which form the substance of the book,
were given at a time when 'enlightened zeal for liberty' was associated
with the 'reckless boldness of the uncompromising freethinker.' He
wished, therefore, to show that a man could be a liberal without being
an atheist. This gi