Witherspoon, John. The Works of John Witherspoon volume 6. Sprinkle Publishing, 2005.
Although John Witherspoon and Cornelius Van Til have categorically different outlooks on the nature of philosophy, their works are similar in format. Both were given as lecture notes in syllabi, and occasionally suffer from that format. Nevertheless, despite some points being underdeveloped, Witherspoon’s works exhibits a clear, logical progression.
This volume contains his History of the Corporation of Servants, Lectures on Moral Philosophy, and Lectures on Eloquence. As the first is a history of the servant class in Britain, it is hard to see how it could be relevant to modern American readers, so we will not deal with it here. Since his Moral Philosophy is primarily what he is known for, we will spend the most time on it.
Lectures on Moral Philosophy
Witherspoon defines moral philosophy as “that branch of science which treats of the principles and laws of Duty or Morals” (59). It is not the same as Scripture, but properly treated, it is not contrary to it. Witherspoon is treating what is called “the light of nature” and the “law of nature.” By light of nature he means what we can discover by our own powers. By law of nature he means something that is “agreeable to reason and nature” (60).
Human Nature
I do not want to say Witherspoon begins with “Man” instead of God, for that is not entirely accurate. Witherspoon certainly begins his doctrine of man with the imago dei, “if we can discover how his Maker formed him or for what he intended him, that certainly is what he ought to be” (61). Having established that, he enumerates man’s faculties: the understanding, the will, and the affections. He is not entirely satisfied with that taxonomy, since he sees them as “different ways of exerting the same principle, but as a taxonomy it is workable enough.
Throughout his discussion he is primarily engaged with the ethical works of Frances Hutcheson, sometimes agreeing, sometimes disagreeing. He does not follow Hutcheson blindly, yet he is not afraid to agree with him when it serves the purpose of his syllabus. With Hutcheson he affirms a sense of moral good and evil that is akin to our five senses (70).
Virtue and its Foundation
He defines virtue as “the rule of duty from conscience enlightened by reason, experience, and from what we can learn from the will of our Maker” (79). He does appeal to the will of God, but he is sensitive to avoid any form of theological voluntarism.
From virtue we move to obligations, of which there are two kinds: duty and interest (80). Before he defines duty and interest, he first places them in the estates in which we find ourselves before God and man. In the estate before God, we must believe in him, to which Witherspoon gives an overview (and endorsement) of the arguments for God’s existence (84). Having established God’s existence, Witherspoon follows the standard manuals on the attributes of God.
One attribute, Justice, is particularly relevant for Witherspoon’s argument. Justice is “an invariable determination to render to all their due” (88). Our duty towards others is sincere love. This leads naturally to a love of country, but Witherspoon places love for mankind above love for country. I disagree. Let us place the love of country and mankind in the category of “rights,” which is something I owe to someone. It is not clear what duty I owe to some abstract person on the far side of the globe. Realistically, I can do little to help them. Contrast that with my neighbor in my country. His claims of right upon me are quite specific and concrete. Perhaps we should love Abstract Man on the far side of the globe, but it would be an empty love.
Rights
Rights may be natural or acquired. A natural right is what I need for my own preservation. An acquired right is particular to my constituted state (96). Justice is founded upon natural, perfect rights.
In the duties to ourselves, Witherspoon covers the classic discussions of the virtues. He does not fully agree with Aristotle’s taxonomy, but since this is a syllabus and not a treatise, he uses it for convenience. Our duty to ourselves is to keep our thoughts, desires, and affections in due moderation. Whenever they “are such to be contrary to love, fear, or trust we owe to God, then they are to be restrained and brought into subjection” (98). This in turn generates humility, contentment, and patience.
The rest of the course covers jurisprudence and international law, including the proper forms of government. His discussion does not fully differ from Aristotelian taxonomies, so we will leave it at that.
Lectures on Eloquence
It was a sign of a greater age when theologians and ethicists gave lectures on rhetoric and eloquence. Shedd was one. Witherspoon was another. That said, Witherspoon does not replace Shedd. His lectures range from insightful to pedantic. For example, we do not need lectures on how syllables work in a course on rhetoric. But there are enough gems to warrant a reading.
To cultivate proper eloquence, Witherspoon urges us to imitate the greatest examples, knowing that we often get our first ideas from imitation (166). Eloquence proper is divided into the simple, the sublime, and the mixed. A simple style is one that is both easy and concrete. By easy, it should contain few figures and no obscure sentiments. A good style, moreover, will be a mixture of smoothness, sweetness, conciseness, and elegance, which combine the best expressions with ease.
In composing an eloquent oration, one should make divisions according to good order and logical arrangement. Each major division should be summarized with a proposition. The larger divisions should be quite bulky, as an endless multiplying of smaller divisions is tedious to the reader.
The smaller division should be clear and coordinated. The clarity should almost resemble definitions. The divisions themselves should be similar to each (like follows like).
Conclusion
Pace some intellectual genealogies, Witherspoon did not ruin Calvinism in America, nor did he represent the Enlightenment triumph over covenantal thought. To be sure, there is a small air of the Enlightenment in this volume, but that is probably inevitable with any thinker who lives in his own time.

