^krv of PRlWCflg^ <>. DISCOURSES o N T'heologtcal ^ Literary SiibjeSis. BY THE LATE REV. ARCHIBALD ARTHUR, M.A. PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOV/. WITH AN ACCOUNT OF SOME PARTICULARS IN HIS LIFE AND CHARACTER, B Y WILLIAM RICHARDSON, M. A. PROFESSOR OF HUMANITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOVT, GLASGOW: AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, PRINTED BY J. & J. SCRYMGEOUR, FOR LONGMAN & REES, LONDON, AND ARCH. COKSTABLF, EDINBURGH. 1803. ADVERTISEMENT. THE following Discourses were not intended by their Author to be publifhed as they now appear. With the exception of three or four, none of them ever feem to have been written over by him twice. The liberty taken in offering them to the Public, was from the wifli entertained by his near Rela- tions, of prefer ving and doing honour to his me- mory ; which they thought could be done'^ even though the works to be publiflied were as imperfed as has nov/ been mentioned. In profecuting their defign, they requefled the Editor to make a fe- le6lion of fuch Difcourfes, and prefent them to the Public in fuch a manner, as v/ould bed anfwer their intention. He undertook the office with much relu6lance ; and had \ft been aware of the great difficulty attending it, his reiu«3:ance would have been ftill greater. But his regard for the Deceafed overcame his objections. Still, however, he would not have engaged in a bufmefs of fo much difficulty of difrerent kinds, but that Mr. Arthur's Rela- ADVERTISEMENT. tions allowed him to have the affiftance of the Rev. Dr. Taylor, now Principal of the Univerfity, and of the Rev. Dr. M'Gill, one of the Miniflers in the City of Glafgow ; each of whom had lived in habits of intimacy with the author. In making the feledion, the Editor chofe thofe performances which, from their importance, or the occafions of writing and delivering them, might, as he conceived, have been mofl carefully ftudied and compofed. Any freedom, therefore, which he has ufed in correding them, has been as feldom as pof- fible. He has never ventured, in any one inflance, to change the fentiment ; or to make alterations on the general plan or ftrudure of any Difcourfe 5 or even to alter the language in any particular, unlefs in removing thofe miflakes or imperfedions, which muft have proceeded folely from inattention. All he has to fay further Is, that as thefe Dif- courfes were calculated to impart ufeful inflru6lion from a Profeflbr's chair, it is hoped the fame end may be attained by now offering them from the prefs. TO THE HONOURABLE WILLIAM CRAIG, ONE OF THE SENATORS OF THE COLLEGE OF JUSTICE ; ONE OF THE COMMISSIONERS OF JUSTICIARY IN SCOTLAND ; AND LORD RECTOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW; THE FOLLOWING DISCOURSES, BY A PERSON WHOSE MERITS HIS LORDSHIP KNEW AND ESTEEMED, ARE MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED BY THE EDITOR. GLASGOW COLLEGE, > NOV. %, 1803. J CONTENTS. PART L Conftfling of Theological Bifcourfes, DISCOURSE r. On the Argument for the Exiftence of Godyfrom the Appear-^ 9 ances o, of Defign iti the Univerfe p^ age DISCOURSE IL Ohfervations by Mr. Hume, on the Exlftence of God, confi^ dered ^^5 DISCOURSE III. The Goodnefs of God, defiftded from the Ohjeclions of Mr. ^^^^^ 60 DISCOURSE IV. On the Juftice and Moral Government of God . , ng DISCOURSE V. Of Evils mid their Caufes, and of the Systems refpeBlng them J ^2 IV CONTENTS. PART II. ConfijVing of Literary D'lfcourfes. DISCOURSE I. On Qualities of Inanimate Obje^s, which excite Agreeable Scnfatiom Page 183 DISCOURSE II. Concerning Mr. Burke'' s Theory of Beauty , . 208 DISCOURSE III. Concerning Dr* Hutchefofi's Theory of Beauty , . 231 DISCOURSE IV. Remarks upon the Senfations occafioned by Grand and by Ter- rible Objecis 252 DISCOURSE V. ConcerningNovelty^cofftderedasanObjetiofTaJle . 280 DISCOURSE VI. Remarks on fome Objecis ofTaftcy that fcem not reducible to Beauty y Grandeur y or Novelty 306 DISCOURSE VII. Concerning the Infuence of Cuflom upon our judgments y in Matters of Tajle 324 DISCOURSE VIII. On the Arrangement of Ancient and Modern Languages 341 DISCOURSE IX. On the Caujes that have Promoted or Retarded the Growth of the Fine Arts 363 CONTENTS, If DISCOURSE X. Concerning the Study of the Ancient Languages^ as a necef- Jary branch of a Liberal Education . . . P^g^ 39 1 DISCOURSE XT. On the Importance of Natural Philofophy . ; , . 407 DISCOURSE XII. On Setiftbility *.-75: 44J DISCOURSE XIII. Concerning the EffeEis of Critical Knowledge on the Advance- ment of the Fine Arts ......,, 4^8 DISCOURSE XIV. Ohfervcitions on the Punijhment of Crimes . . I 4^1 APPENDIX. No. I. An Account of fome Particulars in the Life and CharaBer of the Author . , Page 493 No. 11. Ohfervations on the Dafiger of Political Innovation, from a Difcourfe delivered on the i^th November 1 794, befcve the Literary Society in Glasgoiv College, by Dr. Reid 5 1 8 DISCOURSES ON THEOLOGICAL and LITERART SUBJECTS. PART I. Confiftmg of Theological Discourses, DISCOURSE I. On the ARGUMENT for the EXISTENCE of GOD, from the Appearances of DESIGN in the Univerfe, A S every part of the Univerfe with which we X~^- are acquainted exhibits evident marks of Deftgn, we mufl of neceflity infer, that it fprung from a Wife and Intelligent Caufe. The inference is obvious and undeniable. It is, indeed, princi- pally upon this argument, that our belief in the exidence of God is founded ; and as it has been often placed in a falfe light by Atheifls and Scep- tics, I fhall, in this difcourfe, endeavour to vindi- cate its juftnefs from the objections of fome able, aiid chiefly of fome late, opponents. I. In order to fpeak diflindly upon this fubject, it is neceflary to have a precife and accurate notion of what is meant by Defign, becaufe fome perfons A I c On the Argiwient feem not to have given fufficient attention to this matter, and have involved themfelves in perplexity. In common Hfe we underftand diflindly what is meant by Defign. We fay that a man acts with defign and forefight, when his adions tend to bring about fome end, and were performed by him with this view. If a man propofe to make a clock ; and adjufls wheels and weights to one another, fo that a motion is produced by means of which the hours are pointed out, we fay that he a6ls with defign^ and we fay that the piece of work which is produced manifefts contrivance. Whenever any thing is properly adapted for produ- cing an end, or anfv*^ering a purpofe, we fay it is done with defign. It is in this fenfe that the word defign has been employed in ftating this argument. It has been fhewn, that important ends are ferved by means of the bodies of which the material world confifls, and that their revolutions are directed to the accomplishment of certain valuable purpofes. It has alfo been fhewn, that the fabric and limbs of the human body, and the faculties of the hu- man mind, are v/ell fitted for thofe offices which they perform. In all thefe things there are un- deniable marks of wifdom and intention. When there appears defign or contrivance in any thing, the queRion naturally occurs, from what did it proceed ? and the obvious anfwer is, that it proceeded from a Defigning Caufe. In this for the Exiftence of God, 1 1 cafe there is no occafion for any chain of reafon- ing. The judgment is formed intuitively, and without any intermediate ftep. That every effed muji have a caufe^ is an axiom manifefl to every perfon ; and it feems to be equally evident, that every effed that exhibits marks of defign, mull have proceeded from a defigning caufe. What- ever is well adapted for anfwering an end, mufl have been adapted by its author and contriver to anfwer that purpofe. No judgments we can form appear to be more felf evident than thefe; and ac- cordingly they feem to have been formed by the whole of mankind, with refpedl to every fubjed to which they are applicable. It may then be laid down as a firfl principle, founded on the conftitution of our minds, and {landing in need of no proof whatever, " that de- " fign, wherever it is obferved, naturally, and " therefore neceffarily, fuggefts to us the notion " of a caufe." The one conception is always connected with the other. We apply this princi- ple in all the common affairs of life. If we be- hold a fhip w^ll built, completely rigged, and pro- perly accommodated for containing a cargo of goodsj or for lodging a number of paffengers dur- ing a long voyage, we never hefitate in pronoun- <:ing, that it mud have been the workmanfhip of a ildlful carpenter. If we look at a palace adorn- ed with all the elegant ornaments of architedure, and conveniently diipofed for the accommodation A 2 12 On the Argument of its inhabitants, and for exhibiting to fpe£i:ators their fplendor and magnificence, we cannot enter- tain the flighted doubt of its having been contrived by an architect, and executed by the hands of art- ifls adequate to fuch a noble piece of workman- fhfp. If we were going through a defert, and faw a wretched hovel ereded, though we obferved no veftige of living creatures near it, we w^ould im- mediately afcribe it to intelligent beings, and con- clude, without further reflexion, that men had once been there. Ariflippus the philofopher was fhipwrecked upon an ifland ; and he, along with his fellow-fufferers, were walking on the Ihore, deploring their miferable fate, and not doubting but they would foon be attacked and deflroyed oy barbarians, or torn to pieces by wild beads. While they were in this fituaticn, the philofopher made a difcovery which difpeiled his own fears ; and by means of which, he was enabled to roufe the drooping fpirits of his companions. He perceived certain mathematical figures fcratched upon the fand of the fea fnore. The judgment which he formed was certain, and it was immediate. " Let '" us take courage, my friends,'* faid he, " for I *' difcern the veitiges of civilized men." He ne- ver imagined that regular figures, adapted to the demonflration of abftra61 truths, could have been accidentally formed by the foot of a fea-fowl ; nor even* that they could have been drawn by the hand of favages. In thefe fuppofitions there would have been no probability. He indantaneoufly judged for the Exijlence of God, 13 that they mud have been conftruded by men who had made progrefs in knowledge and mental im- provement ; and who, of confequence, mufl have attained to gentle and polilhed manners. If we hear a tune well played, v/e never imagine that the found is produced without the efforts of a mufi- cian ; and if we read an excellent poem, we are immediately convinced that it is the work of a good poet. We never imagine that letters acci- dentally thrown down, could form themfelves into an Iliad or an Eneid. We do not even imagine that a perfon of fmall abilities could have arranged vv^ords, or contrived incidents, fo as to have form- ed works of fuch diflinguiflied m.erit. We are na- turally led to affign a caufe adequate to the effect, and to afcribe poems of fuch beauty and grandeur to minds of a fuperior order. In our connexions with men, in the fame manner, we obferve their words and their adions. We confider thefe as effects proceeding from an internal caufe. We judge of the caufe fi-om the effects which we ob- ferve ; and we conclude, that he who a6ls and fpeaks with prudence and difcernn:ient, m.uft pof- fefs faculties correfponding to his behaviour. All thefe judgments proceed from^ our Conflitu- tion. IVe are fo iiiade^ that we naturally form them, juff in the fame manner as we pronounce fnow to be white ; or as we infer, the exigence of a fubflance from difcerning its qualities. The whole of mankind form funilar judgments, and A3 14 Onthe Argument they do it intuitively. They ufe no argument on fuch fubje£ts, and they can ufe none. .They em- ploy no intermediate fleps, as in a chain of reafon- ing ; and do not arrive at their conclufion, by ad- ju fling premifes to one another. If we judge in this manner in the ordinary tranfa£lions of life, it is furely to be expelled that we fhould judge in the fame manner with refpedt to the defign and contrivance difcernible in the fa- bric of the univerfe. If a mathematical figure be fcratched upon the fand, we inflantaneoufly afcribe it to a defigning caufe, and acknowledge that he who formed it was a man acquainted with certain abilrad truths. If we obferve a building or an elegant contrivance, we afcribe them to an artift. If we fee well directed condud, we conclude that he who performed it is a prudent agent. Can w^e then behold the regularity and order of the uni- verfe, the fubferviency of every part to the reft, the excellent adjuftment of means to ends, and the invariable fucceflion of revolutions, without pronouncing immediately that there muft be an intelligent caufe that produced them ? It is im- pofTible to behold the planetary fyftem, to confider how nicely its parts are fitted to one another, how regularly its motions are directed, and how bene- ficial every part of it is to living creatures, without declaring that it is the workmanfliip of a wife Being. The bodies of animals are infinitely bet- ter conftructed, and are alfo much more complex, than the beft machine of human contrivance j and for the Exiftance of Cod, 15 if no perfoii ever thought a watch was formed without intention, can any perfon imagine that animal bodies v/ere produced without an artifl: t If we take into confideration the provifion that is made for the fupport of animal Hfe, the inftinct with which every creature is furnilhed, its appe- tites and its paiTions adapted to its manner of Hfe, we obferve flili more and more reafon for drawing the fame conclufion. The faculties which man pofTelfes, the powers of underftanding and of ac- tion, and his capacity for difcerning what is fair and beautiful, and of profecuting w^hat is honour- able and proper, mull obtain from every candid mind, an acknowledgment that this lord of the lower world muft have been formed by the hand of wonderful Intelligence. " He that planted the " ear, ihail he not hear ? He that formed the " eye, lliall he not fee ? He that teacheth man " knowledge, fhall he not know ?'* The judg- ment in this cafe is as natural and necefTary as in any other whatever. It flows from a principle in our conftitution, and it has been formed in all ages. Thefe judgments which we form concerning Caufes, from obferving their Effects, muil be founded upon an original principle in our confti- tution. They are univerfal, and yet nobody af- figns a reafon for them. They are evidently not conclufions from reafoning. It is impoiTible to A 4 1 6 On the Argument point out any intermediate flaps by which they are proved, and nobody has attempted it. No man can give any argument by which it can be fhewn, that a mathematical figure muft be the work of an intelligent being, and could not be the work of a fowl or of a quadruped. We judge indeed in this manner, but we can ailign no reafon for our judgment, any more than we can aflign any reafon why we judge, that two and two make four. Neither did we learn to judge in this man- ner by experience. From experience we can ac- quire knowledge only concerning contingent truth or matters of fad, which may be, or may not be, without any abfurdity. We can never learn from experience any knowledge concerning necefiary truths which mufl be, and which it involves an abfurdity to fuppofe not to be. We may learn from experience, that bodies gravitate. This is not a neceffary truth ; it is only contingent, and depends on the will of the Creator ; and if he had pleafed, body might have had oppofite properties, or might not have exiflied.^ But we cannot learn from experience, that the whole is equal to all its parts. This is a neceffary truth, and neceffarily flows from the notions we have of a whole and of its parts. It muft be true ; and it is impoffible, and involves abfurdity, to think otherv/ife. Now, our judgments concerning the connexion of ef- fects and caufes, are judgments concerning necef- fary truths. We do not judge that the connexion may take place, but that it ?ni{fi; take place. Thefe for the Exijlence of God, 17 judgments, therefore, are of fuch a nature, as ex- perience cannot fuggefl. Some perfons, unwilling to admit that the world fprung from a defigning caufe, have pretended that every thing fprung from chance^ or from abfo- lute necejfity, — That the world arofe from accident, was ftrongly urged by the ancient Epicureans; and that it fprung from neceffity, or abfolute and un- direded fate, has been infifted upon by fome fpe- culative Atheifts and Sceptics, both in ancient and modern times. It is, however, to be remarked, that thefe are only forms of exprefiion, without any clear and dillincl meaning. Chance and abfolute neceffity are words expreffin;; certain abftracl no- tions ; and neither the notions, nor the terms that denote them, can poffibly be the caufes of any thing whatever. They are not adive beings, ca- pable of accomplifhing any end. — In common lan- guage we attribute many things to chance. If a die be thrown, we fay it depends upon chance what fide may turn up; and, if we draw a prize in a lottery, we afcribe our fuccefs to chance. We da not, however, mean that thefe effects were pro- duced by no caufe, but only that we are ignorant of the caufe that produced them. There are me- chanical caufes, which determine what fide of a die will cad up, as certainly as any thing elfe; and, if we could adjufh perfectly the degree 01 force with which it is thrown, and the particular dn-eclion, together with the nature of the furface on which 1 8 On the Argument it paiTes, we could tell precifely what fide would appear. This, however, we cannot do; and be- caufe the event depends on circumftances which we cannot forefee, we afcribeit to a caufe of which, we are ignorant ; and to fuch uncertain and un- determined caufes, we give the name of chance ; not meaning that there is no caufe, but that we cannot afcertain it. Again, when all things are afcribed to necefTity, if thofe who ufe the term have any meaning at all, they cannot mean that they fprung from no caufe. They muft only mean that the caufe, whatever it was, adbed neceffarily, and not from choice. They muft conceive the firil caufe, to have been actuated by fome involuntary force, as a machine is moved by weights and fprings, fo that the effed muft ne- ceffarily be produced ; and cannot mean that there was no caufe. — If we afcribe, then, every thing to chance, we do not exclude a caufe ; we only fay we do not know what that caufe is. If we afcribe every thing to neceiTity, we alfo admit a caufe, though a different one from what is admitted by thofe who acknowledge defign. The only queftion then is, whether the caufe admitted be a defigning caufe or not. That the univerfe mufl have proceeded from a defigning caufe ; and could not poflibly have proceeded from a caufe without defign and in- telligence, by whatever name it may be deno- for the Exiftence of God, 19 minated, whether it be called chance, or ne- cellity, or fate, is exceedingly obvious. Nothing beautiful, regular, and orderly, ever proceeded, or can proceed, from an undefigning caufe. Sup- pofe matter to have exifted originally of itfelf, and to have been endued with motion from eternity; and fuppofe that motion to have been continued without diminution ; there is no doubt, but thefe materials, continually agitated, would, in the courfe of millions of ages, have aiTumed various forms: but there is no probability, that ever thefe forms v/ould have been regular; and much lefs that there fhould be regularity in all their revolutions, mu- tual connexions, and dependencies. Did ever chance form a machine fo regular as a watch? Throw the different wheels, and fprings, and pi- nions, of which a watch is compofed, into one velTel, and keep the whole in motion for ages ; and after all, neither the whole, nor any part of them, will ever be properly placed and adjuiled. — Take a cafe that has often been put in handling this argument. Suppofe a triangular prifm, with three unequal fides, and a fcabbard perfectly adapted to it, to be both fet in motion through empty fpace ; grant both of them the power of altering their motions and of flying up and down in every pofTible direc tion, it is infinity to one that they v/iil never meet Suppofmg they did meet, it is ftill infinity to one that they do not meet in that one particular direc tion in which the prifm will enter its fcabbard If chance, then, cannot efreduate thofe ample ad 20 On the Argument juftments, to which the defign of a child is equal, how can it be imagined that it fhould adjuft the in- numerable parts and revolutions in the univerfe ? There is not the flightefl fhadow of probability to juflify fuch a fuppofition. Even though chance fhould fometimes have flumbled upon a regular form, after a variety of trials, in the way that Epi- curus imagined men, and animals, and vegetables, to have been fafhioned ; thefe forms would again have been immediately deflroyed, in the fame man- ner that the monftrous appearances that had ex- ifled before them, in infinite multitudes, were de- fhroyed, in cdnfequence of the motion and changes of fituation, which, upon that fuppofition, are al- ways going on among the particles of matter. If chance never could arrange unorganized matter into thofe beautiful and regular forms with which we fee it invefted; could it, or neceiTity, or any blind caufe, by whatever name it may be called, ever produce a being endued with life, fenfation, intelligence, and the power of voluntary adion? Gan that which has itfelf no defign or underfland- ing, produce a wife and intelligent mind? The fuppofition is abfurd. It is fuppofmg an effed to be produced by an inadequate caufe; which is precifely the fame thing as to fuppofe it produced by no caufe at all. It is ftrange that fuch an opinion lliould have ever been embraced by philo- fcphers, the folly of which is manifefl even to a child. An infant, if its bells on its rattle be taken away, never dreams that they were taken for the Exijlence of God, 21 away by nobody, but immediately judges that they were removed by fome perfon or other. Even a dog, if a ftone be thrown at him, never imagines that the pain he feels arofe without a caufe. He either flies from the place, that he may be expofed to no further fufferings, or he turns with refent- ment to defend himfelf. If an inhabitant of Terra del Fuego, or Lapland, who had never feen an army, nor knew the ufe of fire-arms, were brought to fee a regiment reviewed, would he imagine that all their orderly motions and evolutions were the effects of blind chance? Would he not immedi- ately perceive, that they arofe from defign and pre- meditation? The motions of a fmgle human body are much more regular, and more various, than thofe of a large body of foldiers upon a field-day. Why then imagine that thefe motions are carried on without defign ? What then Ihall we fay of the regularity obfervable in the whole human race, in inferior animals, in plants, in unorganized mat- ter, and through the whole extent of the univerfe? Or, what fhall we fay of the intelligence of that man, who ferioufly believes that the whole is pro- duced without a defigning caufe? II. I ihall now proceed to make a few remarks upon fome of the principal objedions that have been Hated againfl the argument for the exiitence of 22 On the Argument God, which we have been endeavouring to efta- blifh. In the firft place, it has been offered as an ob- jedion to this argument, that we fee every thing going on regularly, in confequence of the laws of motion, which are eftabliihed in the univerfe, with- out any marks of fupernatural interpofition. The prefumption, therefore, is, that things have gone on in the fame order, from all eternity ; and con- fequently, that the univerfe never had a beginning. Some of the ancient philofophers believed that the world was eternal, without denying the ex- iftence of God ; for they confidered it as the eter- nal effect of an eternal caufe. Their notions of the fubjedt were often perplexed and dark, and they did not agree with one another. One clafs of them confidered God as the foul of the uni- verfe ; and fuppofed that he animated and moved it from all eternity, as the human mind aduates the human body. Others only fuppofed ??iatter to be eternal ; and imagined that it had originally fubfifled in an unformed mafs, which they called a chaos; and that at lafl the divine energy fe- parated the parts of this mafs, reduced them into form, and conftruded the world as we at prefent behold it. The opinions of thefe philofophers were falfe, and fupported by no evidence; but they were not atheifts. It is moil favourable for the atheift, if he adopt the fuppofition that the world is eternal, to maintain that its prefent form, for the Exigence of God, 23 as well as its matter, are eternal : though the Epi- cureans did not avail themfelves of this advantage; for they only contended for the eternity of atoms, or particles of matter, and of motion; and they fuppofed that the form was ftamped upon them by chance. It would evidently have been more eafy for them to have fuppofed form, as well as matter and motion, to be eternal, which fome of their fuc- cefTors have accordingly done. The belief that the world is eternal, however difficult to be fuppofed, is not inconfiflent with the belief that it is governed by an eternal and intelli- gent being. But that the world fhould be eternal, and under no fuch diredion, is inconceivable. It is fuppofmg dcfign to be without a defigning caufe, and the time at which it is fuppofed to have hap- pened makes no difference. That there (hould be motion without a mover, is jufl as impollible as that motion ihould begin at any given time with- out a mover. Matter has no motion in itfelf. It is indifferent in its nature to motion or reft. All the motion that it has muft fpring from fome caufe. Its motions are regular ; they muft therefore fpring from a defigning caufe. If there be regularity and defign, it muft be owing to intelligence; and the cafe is not materially altered, whether you fuppofe that intelligent caufe to have operated from all eternity, or to have begun to form and arrange the world at a given time. Atheifm, therefore, gains nothing by fuppofing the world in its pre- 24 On the Argument fent form to have exifted from eternity. The fup- pofition may confound and embarrafs our con- ceptions; but the fame argument, from the defign and regularity of the univerfe, is equally applicable on this hypothefis, as upon the belief that there was a time when every thing began to exift. There are not proofs wanting to fhew that the hypothefis of the world's eternity is utterly void of foundation. — The univerfe carries in it evidences of its late origin. I would not attempt to prove this fad, as fome have done, from the nature of the great bodies in the univerfe. The fun, they fay, is continually emitting light and heat, by throwing off particles of its fubflance, and confequently muil be diminifhing in fize; and, therefore, if this luminary had exifled from all eternity, it muft long ago have been exhaufted. The planets, they add, though they move in fpaces where they can meet with very little refiftance, yet do not perform their revolutions in places that are perfedlly empty. They at lead pafs through light in their orbits ; and though light be a body of the mod fubtile kind, yet it mufl occafion fome refiftance; and if this re- fiftance, hov/ever fmall it may be, had continued from all eternity, it would gi a dually have impeded the motion of the heavenly bodies; fo that, long before this time, they would have loft the impulfe by which they move forward, and have been car- ried by gravity into the fun. for the Exlftence of God, 25 Thefe obfcrvations may be juft ; but we know too little of the nature of thefe things, or of the means by which any wade in the fyftem may be regularly fupplied, to found any thing upon them v/ith certainty. We mull fatisfy our- felves with evidence better fuited to our own comprehenfion; and on the prefent fubjed we have enough of it. One inflance in the flruc- ture of our own earth is fufficient to convince us. It is merely impoffible that it could have fub- fifted from all eternity in its prefent form. Every ihower that falls, and every breeze that blows, brings down portions of matter from the moun- tains to the valleys; and every ilream that runs carries with it fome part tif the land into the fea. Confequently the tendency of all things on the furface of the earth is to produce equahty. How- ever infenfible the efFeds of this conflant change may be, yet, as it is continually going on, it would, in the courfe of many ages, have levelled every thing; and long before now, the waters would have uniformly covered the face of the earth. As this efFecl: has not followed, of confequence the circumRances in which it would have happened have never exilled; and therefore, the v/orid has If we Gonfult the monuments of hiflory, which, have been tranfmitted to us, they will not on- ly convince us, that this earth at lead which we inhabit, is not eternal, but even that its B 26 On the Argument origin is not many thoufand years removed from us. The hiilory of no nation carries us very far back into antiquity. We know the origin of mofl of the ancient nations ; and we know that they fettled in countries which were thinly inhabited at that time, and contained no buildings, nor works of art, nor monuments, from which there was any reafon to believe that ever they had been in a more improved Hate. Men appear to have fprung from one common flock, and to have fpread gra- dually over the world, and not to have gathered into large focieties before that period when our hiflorical accounts of them begin. Mod of the nations that afterwards rofe to greatnefs, trace back their origin to fome fcattered bands of un- polifhed wanderers, who united and formed a fmali civil government. If men had fubfifted much longer before that period, than the time that was neceifary for their multiplication,, fo as to occupy the greater part of the earth ; they would alfo, be- fore that period, have formed kingdoms and em- pires ; they would have eflablifned laws 5 they would have cultivated arts and fciences \ and they would have built great cities. It is not to be fup- pofed, that fuch empires, with their arts, could have entirely perillied, and have been fwept off, as it were, from the face of the earth, without leav- ing the flightefl: monument of their exiflence be- hind them. No monuments of that kind, how- ever, remain. There is no reafon to believe, that any great nations ever exilled before thofe of for the Er^.ence of God, 27 which hidory has preferved foiu: account. '-Ve know at what time niofl of thj ufefui arts v,re invented; and C'/ea the nines of the inveir^rs have come down to us. We cannot believe that thefe arts v/ere formerly invented, and were after- wards loft; and we know rhat no great (late could fubfift without them. There is no reafon to be- lijv^e. that any ufefui art, which had been once in- vented, was ever loft, unlefs another that ani\vered the fame end better, were fubftituted in its room. As far as hiftorical records go, we have reafon to believe that man has always been improving in this refped, retaining the ingenuity of former ages, and adding to the ftock by new inventions. We know alfo the origin of the fciences. We know the names and tenets of the fir ft philoiophers, and are able to trace knowledge from its firft dav\^n to its prefent luftre. Thefe particulars feem clearly to (hew, that the world is of late origin. This opiixion has accordingly been current among early nations. All of them had traditions among them concerning the creation of the world, and the ori- gin of the hunian race, though fome of thefe tra- ditions were more diftinct, and more probable, than others. In this argument we have the ainftance of the Epicureans, and it is dreifed up, wi.h great ele- gance, by their poet Lucretius : * Praeterea fi nulla fiiit genitalis origo Terrarum et cceli, lemperque oiterna fuerc ; B % * Lib. V. 325. Ed. WakeF, 2 8 On the Argument Quur fiipra bellum Thebaniiin, et funera TrojiT, Non alias aliei res cecinere poetae ? Qiio tot h€i^ virum totlens cecidere ? neque ufquam, ^term's famje monimentis iniita, florent ? Verum, ut opinor, habet novitatem fumma recenfque Natura eft mundi ; neque pridem exordia cepit. Qua re etiam quaedam nunc artes expoliuntur ; Nunc etiam augcfcunt : nunc addlta navigiis funt Multa; modo organicei melicos peperere fonores. A fccond objcdion has fometimes been urged againfl the evidence arifmg from the appearances of wifdom and defign in the works of nature, and the proof of a firfl ca.ufe founded upon it, from fome marks of irregularity, which, it is pre- tended, frequently occur in the world ; and from a variety of objects for which we do not difcern any ufe. Why do comets appear to alarm man- kind ? Why are the motions of the fun and moon fo regulated, that their light is fometimes obftruQ:- ed by eclipfes ? Why is one diflrid of the earth fcorched with heat ; and why are two more pinch- ed with perpetual cold ? Why is a great part of the earth covered with fea ; another part of it loaded with unfruitful mountains 5 and another covered with morafles, or noxious weeds ? Why are there a multitude of productions, animal, ve- getable, and foffil, which are ufelefs to man ? — Thcfe irregularities, and others of a fmiilar nature, arc numerous, and rcfemble the wm-ks of chance. May we not thcreibre fuppofe, that thofe things v/hich feem to be regular, alfumed this appearance for the ExiJIcnceof God, 29 in confequence of fome kicky iiccident, fome for- tunate combination of parts ? This objedion was urged, with all the exaggera- tion of colouring which it is capable of receiving, by the Epicureans of old ; and it was then urged with a better grace than it can be in modern times. The great improvements which our knov^^edge of nature has now received, render us capable of pointing out the wifdom of many particulars which feemed ufe- lefs or irregular in ancient times. Comets do not nov/ appear to be bodies accidentally formed,, and appearing at uncertain times to terrify nations and kingdoms. We now know that they perform re- gular revolutions, and return at dated periods, as well as the planets. They are, therefore, inftances of regularity and order, and not of accident. The eclipfes of the fun and moon, alfo, happen accord- ing to regular laws ; and the time when they are to happen, even a thoufand years before it arrive, may be calculated to a mnnute. Their ufes are not now^ unknown, though of old they were not difcovered. One purpofe of the fun and moon, is to meafure the various feafons, and divide time into days and nights, and months and years. Their eclipfes anfwer the fame purpofe ; and the accounts of them, tranfmitted by hiilorians, have been made ufe of, in after periods, for the import- ant end of fettling the chronology of ancient king- doms. How ufeful they are in determining the longitude of places, and promoting the knowledge B3 3^ On the Argument of geography and navigation, is alfo acknow- led cd. The torrid zone' is now known not to be uninhabitable on account of its heat ; nor the two fn^iu zones on account of their cold, as the ancient Greeks and Latins fuppofed. They have all their inhabitants habituated to their tempera- ture, and capable of fubnfling in them with com- fort. Some of thofe countries which they igno- rantly thought to be only fit to be the abodes of favages, particularly our own, are now found not to be unfavourable to the growth of good govern- ment, of arts, and of fcience. Man can fubfifl and thrive on almofl: any part of the globe. The diflribution of the earth into hotter and cold- er climates, is, in confequence of this contrivance, highly beneficial. Each of the climates has its own peculiar productions, which cannot be ob- tained by culture in another. The produce of the earth, proper for man, is thus multiplied in prodigious variety. By means, alfo, of naviga- tion, men have learned to exchange their own fu- perfluities for thofe of other countries. Every cli- mate of confequence enjoys the principal produc- tions of all the reft ; and human fociety, by means of the v^ife diftribution of temperature, is much better fupplied, both with neceffaries and conve- niences, than it could have otherwife been. The vaft ocean, whatever it might appear to the ancients, v/ho durft not venture to fail upon it, is now found not to be unprodudive. It is the for the Exijlence of God, 3 1 means of communication between immenfe conti- nents, to the greater part of which they were ftrangers. The mountains are the fources of fprings and rivers ; and the mof l extenfive forefls with v/hich they are covered have been found to be wifely contrived, fmce the demand for timber became univerfal, in confequence of the increafe of commerce and fhip-building. The wood in a Britifh man-of-w^ar would have conflrucled a whole fleet for the Romans or Carthaginians. Many of thofe productions, animal, vegetable, and foffil^ which formerly were thought ufelefs, are now found to be exceedingly valuable. The loadftone was anciently known by one of its properties, for it had been obferved that it attracted iron ; but it was not known that it would communicate its vir- tue to a needle, and that the needle, touched by it, would point towards the poles of the earth. Since this difcovery was made, the loaddone is no longer confidered as merely a curious folfil. It is confi- dered as one of the moil precious of mineral pro- ductions, as by means of it the manner is fupplied with his compafs, which directs his courfe through the tractlefs ocean, and is enabled to tranfport the various articles of commerce. One of the fined colours is produced by- the cochineal, an infeCl once thought inngnificant ; and many excellent dyes are nov\^ furnifned by one of the meaneft plants, which was formerly thought to be of no other ufe but to cover the rocks of the defert with a whitenefs refembiing that of hoar-frod. There B4 3 2 On the Argument IS an infinite number of other produdions former- ly regarded as ufelefs, which future obfervations have fliewn to be contrived for important ends. The purpofes which they ferve, are not indeed, evident at firfl fight.' They are left to be traced out by the ingenuity and obfervation of mankind. But the mind of man is fitted for inquiry ; and it is a part of his bufmefs in this world, to fearch in- to the works of God, and to accommodate the flores wifely provided for him to his own ufe and convenience. Houfes were not built, nor clothes provided for him ; but the materials are fur- nifhed, and it is left to him to frame them in the manner that fuits him beft. For a fmiilar rea- fon, the earth is not, without culture, fitted to yield him fubfillence. It was not intended that he fhould be inaftive. It is his duty to labour, to clear the field of noxious wxeds, to drain the morafs, and to cultivate the ground. All the complaints that have been made againfl the wifdom of the creation, feem to be founded up- on human ignorance. I^ater and more careful invefligation has fhewn, that many of them have not the flighted foundation. Thofe things which were complained of have, on many occafions, been found to be v^^ife and ufeful contrivances ; and fu- ture difcoveries will, in all probability, remove every appearance of irregularity, and confute every objedion from fuppofed ufelefTnefs'. We are not able to comprehend the whole fyftem of things, and to difcern the fubferviency of its feveral parts; for the Exiftence of God, 33 but if experiinents and obfervatlons be continued, as they have been conducted for a hundred years, we will gradually be enabled to difcern more and more evidences of defign. Frequently men have only been blaming the inventions of human fancy, wdien they thought they were cenfuring the works of God. The ancient opinion, maintained by phi- lofophers, concerning the planetary fyftem, was very erroneous and imperfecl. They confidered the earth as the centre, and endeavoured to ac- count for all the motions of the other bodies in the fyflem, upon this fuppofition. DiiHculties in- creafed upon them without number, and every new^ obfervation added a new one to the former fum.. The velocity with which the planets were fuppofed to move, in order to complete their cir- cuit in twenty -.four hours, was inconceivable ; the manner of their procedure through the zodiac, and their appearances, fometimes farther fouth, and fometimes farther north, were unaccountable : the irregularity of their motions feemed ailonifhing 5 at one time they appeared to be going forward a- moRg the figns Vvdth great velocity ; at another time fome of them feemed to be ftationary ; and at another to be moving backwards. Thefe ap- pearances feem.ed irregularities ; the minds of a- flronomers were diftracled by them. They con- trived one hypothefis after another to folve them. The motions of the univerfe were reprefented as fo complex, that it was not pofTible to comprehend them. This fyitem of ailronomy was explained to n^ On the Argufiient Alphonfus king of Caftille, an encourager of Learn- ing. He was confounded with its perplexity ; and at lad exclaimed, not without feeming impiety, that if his advice had been taken, he could have pointed out a fimpler method of con{lru6:ing a world. This complaint was againfl the vain fic- tions of men, who thought they underftood the manner in which the world is conftruded, while they were ignorant of it ; and not againfl the workmanfliip of God, when it is rightly under- ftood. The world is really conftruded in a fim- pler method than that in which it was explained to Alphonfus, and even in a fmipler manner than he, with the hght he then pofTelTed, could have point- ed out. After Copernicus had juflly concluded that the fun, and not the earth, is the centre of the planetary fyftem ; and after future obfervations had fully verified his conclufions ; ail appearance of irregularity vanifhed. I-f the planets were view- ed from the fun, which is the centre of the fyflem, their mictions would all appear to be regular ; but as they are viewed by us from a fituaUon in which we fee fome of them nearer the centre than our- felves, and others more remote, their motions muft feem to us to be irregular ; and the appear- ance which their motion mufh affume to our eye can now be demonftrated in every part of their orbit. We are now freed from the difficulty of fuppofmg their velocities fo great as to revolve in twenty-four hours ; and by difcovering in what pofition the planes of their orbits are, we can ac- for the Exifience of God. 3 r count for their appearances among the figns of the zodiac. Every thing nov/ is fo beautiful and re- gular, that Alphonfus himfelf, if he had enjoyed an opportunity of contemplating the whole, would have been forced to acknowledge, that it had proceed- ed from counfel greatly fuperior to his own. While men miflake their own fancies for realities, they may cenfure them with juftice ; but it is prefump- tion to impute any thing to the Firfl Caufe, which has not been difcovered by experience to be a part of his works. We may then fafely conclude, that any objedions brought againfl the wifdom difplay- ed in the ftrudure of the univerfe, from appear- ances of irregularity, are ill founded, and only fpring from human ignorance. \ DISCOURSE IL OBSERVATIONS by Mr. Hume on the Exiftence of GOD ^ Conftdered, I PROPOSE to confider, in this difcourfe, thofe objections brought to invalidate our belief in the exiftence of a God, which have been advanced by the late celebrated Mr. Hume, in different parts of his philofophical eifays, and in his pofthumous dialogues concerning natural religion. This au- thor, it is to be obferved, has not given his argu- ments againil the evidence of natural religion, in his own character, but in the character of fictitious fpeakers. At the fame time, it mufl alfo be ob- ferved, that they are evident conclufions from cer- tain principles,- which he has been at great pains to eftablifh ; and he has drawn thefe conclufions himfclf, which follow from no principles but his own, though he has put them into the mouth of other fpeakers. In his dialogues particularly, where the argument is mofl copiouily and openly Obfer-vations by Mr, Hume coriftdcred. 37 handled, he has introduced three perfons as inter- locutors : One of them is a man of piety, who dif- dains reafoning concerning the exigence of the Deity akogether, and therefori^ what he advances upon the fubject deferves Kttle attention : One of the other two is a fceptic, who attacks the evi- dences of religion with much fubtlety and elo- quence, and who reafons upon the principles of Mr. Hume's philofophy, and draws from it con- clufions that obvioully follow from it : The other is fuppofed to be a rational and philofophical be- liever in the exiftence of the Divine nature, who maintains his own tenets by folid arguments, and with good temper. Unfortunately, however, this philofophical behever admits as truths the princi- ples of Mr. Hume's philofophy, as well as his an- tagonifl, and is often feverely pullied in the courfe of the argument, when he endeavours to defend his belief upon thefe principles. The decifion is given at lafl in favour of the believer, though an impreilion will be left on the mind of every read- er in favour of the reafonings made ufe of by the fceptic, whatever averfion he may have to his con- clufion. In order to refute Mr. Hume's reafonings, it will be neceuary to fland upon better ground than that which he has allotted to his philofophical be- liever. It will be necelfary to inquire what foun- dation there is for thofe principles upon which the whole reafoning is founded. 38 Obfervations by Mr, Hume on the The foundation of all the reafonings againft the evidences of natural religion, which Mr. Hume has given us in fiditious characters, is the notion of caufe and eifecl, w^hich he has endeavoured to fupport in his eiiay intitled, " Of the idea of ne- " cefTary connection." In that eifay, he pofitive- ly denies that we have any notion of power, and that we have no notion of caufe and efFe6l, except- ing that one object has often been perceived by our fenfes following another. We have feen flame ufually joined with hre ; hence we conclude that fire is the caufe of flame. We have heard a found often produced by the vibration of a firing ; hence we conclude that the vibration of the firing is the caufe of the found. When the fun appears, we regularly fee light ;• hence we conclude that the fun is the caufe of hght. In all this, there is no notion of power ; we only perceive two things al- ways conjoined, and we call the one the caufe and the other the effeCt. If we fee this conjunction only once, w^e cannot know that it is not merely accidental, and therefore we will not conclude that there is any fuch thing as caufe and eifeCt in the cafe ; but if we fee them often, we begin to fufped: that they are always united, and the certainty in- creafes upon us by degrees. Hence, all our no- tions conccrriing caufe and effect depend upon ex- perience. We are never able, he fays, in afingle injiance^ to difcover any power or neceffary con- nexion, any quality that binds the effeCt to the caufe, and renders the one an infallible confe- Exi/lence of God, confidered. 39 quence of the other ; we only find that the one does actually in fad follow the other. The im- pulfe of one billiard-ball is attended with motion in the fecond. This is the whole that appears to the outward fenfes. The mind feels no fentiment or inward impreffion from this fucceffion of ob- jcfts ; confequently, there is not in any fmgle particular inflance of caufe and effeft, any thing that can fuggefi: the idea of power or neceifary connection. He goes on with an attempt to fhew, that neither the motions obfervable in external things, nor the actions of our own minds, furnifli us with any notion of power ; that in every thing we only perceive one event following another, without any connedion between them ; and that it is only experience which informs us of their u- nion. He therefore concludes ; Upon the whole, there appears not, throughout all nature, any one inflance of connection, which is conceivable by us. All events feem entirely loofe and feparate ; one event follows another, but we never can obferve any tie between them ; they feem conjoined, but never connected. And as we can have no idea of any thing which never appeared to our outward fenfe, or inward fentiment, the neceiTary conclu- fion feems to be, that we have no idea of connec- tion or power at all, and that thefe words are ab^ folutely without any meaning when employed ei- ther in philofophical reafonings, or in common life. 40 Obfervations by Mr. Hume on the As this rioti^Ti of caufe and effect is the foun^ dation of all the rcafonings employed by this au- thor ar';ainfL the evidences of religion, it will be proper to confider whether or not it be jufl ; be- caufe with it the conclufions built upon it mufl fland or fall. Firflof all, it is to be remarked, that this notion is built upon the fuppofition, that all our ideas a- rife either from fenfation or refledion. But it is not true that our notions are all derived from fen- fation and reflection, or, as Mr. Hume expreifes it, from outward fenfe, and inward fentiment. It might be eafy to point out many of them that have not this origin. The conception we have of fub- ftance, for inltance, is acquired by neither of them. We perceive fubftances by no fenfe internal or external. It is only the qualities of fubftances that are prefented to our fenfes, and not the fubftances themfelves. All men, however, have a notion of fubftance. They knew that it is fomething in which the qualities are inherent ; they know that the qualities cannot fubfift of themfelves, and that they muft belong to fomething that does not ftrike the fenfes ) to that thing they refer them, and they beheve that fubftances do exift. The fame may alfo be illuftrated by our notion of identity. — Since then there are notions which are acquired neither by fenfation ?"(or reflection, the conclufion will not foil aw, that becaufe a notion is reducible to nei-. thjr, it therefore does not exifl, and cannot poffi- Exijlence of God ^ confJered. 41 bly be formed by the mind. It i? better to rejed altogether a fyflem of arrangement, than to deiy the exiftence of an object, becauie it will not cor- refpond to it. We certainly hiive conccpti )i.i, which are reducible to neither of them ; and or.r notion of the connection between caufe and t^^di may be of that number. If we pay attencion to this notion, we may eafily be convinced that it is fo, and yet it is very di(tin<^ and clear. When we fee a caufe produce an efFedl, (when we lift an arm, for inltance, in confequence of voHtion) there is only the notion of fucceiTion fuggefted to us by our fenfes ; we are fenhble of our own vohiion, and we perceive that the effed follows it. There is nothing elfe prefented to our minds by means of our fenfes either external or internal. But there is another notion prefented to our minds, though not by means of the fenfes. We have a conception of power exerted, by means of which the action follows the volition, and confequently have a notion of caufality or efEciency. From merely obferving the conflant conjunction of two things, we could have no conception of caufahty or povN^er. The ebbing and flowing of the fea have followed one another in regular fuccelhon fmce the beginning of the world, yet no man ever fuf- peded that the one was the caufe of the other. The fpring has always preceded the fummer, and day and night have always fucceeded each other j yet no perfon ever imagined that the oi>e was the G 42 Obfervations by Mr, Hume on the caufe of the other, any more than he believed that the departure of the fwallow in autumn was the caufe of winter, or the arrival of the cuckoo in fpring was the caufe of fummer. A bell regu- larly rings when the clock ilrikes a certain hour, and upon the ringing of the bell, a number of people aflemble for public worlhip ; but no man in his fenfes ever imagined that the ftriking of the clock was the caufe that rung the bell, or that the ringing of the bell was the caufe that brought to- gether a number of voluntary agents. The mere conjuncllon of events, then, will never lead us to conclude that the one is the caufe of the other. In all cafes where v/e fpeak of caufality, we mean fom.ething more than mere conjundion -or fucceffion. If conjunction alone conftituted our notion of caufe and eifect, we could not, in moil cafes, tell which was the caufe, and which was the efie^l. In cafes v/here the one fucceeds the other, we might call that the caufe which has the precedency in time ; but where no fucceiTion is difcernible, we might put the one in place of the other. We could not tell whether light is the caufe of the fun, or the fun the caufe of light ; whether fmoke is the caufe of fire, or fire of fmoke. But no man ever commits any fuch miflakes. The judgments of men upon this fub- je6l are uniform. They never differ in their no- tions of the caufe and the effedl when they under- fland what they are fpeaking about. They mud Exljlence of God, conftdered. 43 therefore have fome method of diftinguifhing them ; and if they have, they mud have fome other notion befides mere conjundion of two objeds or events. Mr. Hume's notion, then, of caufe and effed, is inadequate. It does not comprehend all that is commonly underflood by caufality ; and it does not account for the judgments commonly formed concerning caufe and effed. Though we affirm, and can affirm with certain- tv, that Mr. Hume's notion of caufe and effed is inadequate, yet we cannot pretend to define what caufation is. The notion of power is altogether fimple, and is obtained by attending to a particu- lar courfe of operations in our own minds ; and without attention to thefe, it is impoffible ever to obtain it. — All our notions of adive power are originally derived from our own minds. We know that we poflefs power ; we are fenfible that we have often exerted it ; and w^e are convinced that we can exert it again, whenever we pleafe. When we choofe, we can raife our arm or let it fall. In all cafes where we perform any adion voluntarily, we are fenfible of exerting ourfelves ; we confider the action as performed by ourfelves ; we look upon ourfelves as the caufe of it ; and we praife or blame ourfelves, according as we think we have acted well or ill. In every action we per- form in confeqpence of our volition, we are con- vinced that wx exerted power ; we are convinced that we are cuufes j and we are fatisfied that there C 2 44 Ob/er^'aticns by Mr* Hume on the IS a connexion between our volition and the fub- fequent adion. In confequence of our volition, indeed, there are certain a6ts performed, of which we are not the caufes ; there are certain motions of the nerves going on, there are certain contrac- tions of the mufcles in our limbs. Thefe opera- tions are performed by fome means independent of us, and do not proceed immediately from our volition as their caufe ; accordingly, we do not ccnfider ourfelves as their caufe, but refolve them into the original conflruclion of our frame. But in whatever manner the intermediate fleps are or- dered, v/e confider the end, or the performance of the action intended, as having proceeded from our- felves ; and we claim the mxerit of it, or think our- felves Hable for its demerit. — All men whatever, have a convidion that they poflefs the power, and think themfelves connected with the confequence, of their own adions. If a man thought he was not the caufe of what adions proceeded from his volition, he would never blame himfelf when he did wrong, nor praife himfelf when he did right. If he faw nothing but a fucceflion between two events, when he reflefted upon his voHtion, and the confequences of them, and did not believe that there was an intimate connexion between them, he would think himfelf no more concerned with them, than with the fucceflion of any other two events whatever. But men^o not think in this manner. They are all convinced that there is a connection between their own wills, and the Exiftence of God, coiiftdered, 45 acls that flow from them. They do not confider thefe two things as loofe and feparate ; they con- fider them as infeparably linked together. They not only confider their ov/n actions, but thofe of their neighbours, as clofely conneded with their volition. They accordingly afcribe the praife and blame of what they perform, not to the external aftion itfelf, but to the mind that performed it. — If a judge faw nothing when a crime was perform- ed, but a fucceffion of two events, loofe and fepa- rate from each other, he could never punifh any perfon as the caufe of the injury that had been fuf- tained. If a tile fall from the roof of a houfe, and kill a man who ftands below, or if the tile was dropt intentionally by another man, the fuc- ceffion of events is the fam.e in both cafes. But every fpeclator fees a wide difference between what happens in the one cafe, and in the other. In the one cafe, he fees nothing more than conjunction of events ; but in the other, he difcerns a real con- nection. In the one, there is no notion of power exerted ; but in the other, there is manifeft effici- ency. In the one cafe, he may pity the fufferer ; but in the other, he blames the murderer as the caufe of the calamity. So fenfible are men that they poffefs fuch power, and that they are capable of being the caufes of particular actions, that they ailirm and deny many things concerning it. They fay that certain thuigs ' C3 46 Obfervations by Mr. Hume on the are in their power, and that other things are not. When they Ipeak in this manner, they furely be- lieve that there are particular a6:s which they are able to perform ; and they firmly believe that there is a conneed pro- vinces were ruled with the rod of oppreflion, and their inhabitants often reduced to the deplorable lot of flavery. Even after the Roman em.pire was eftabliHied, the government was never hxed on any firm bafis. Inteftine difcord, civil war, mur- der, and oppreftion, were frequent. At laft the barbarous nations, at the extremity of that great empire, burft in upon it, and in procefs of time lubducd it. Unacquainted with the maximxS of good governm.crit, they fettled themfelves in the countries of Europe as independent tribes ; and the world returned nearly to the fame fituation in which it had been before the Ronian greatnefs from the OhjeBions of Mr, Hu?nc. 73 began. The heads of clans, with their vaflals and dependents, refembled the fmall independent dates of remote antiquity, and they lived in continual warfare with each other. Hoftilities were every v/here carried on with unabating fury, and profe- cuted to the greatell excefs. But the Roman arts and Roman agriculture, and even the Roman, laws, were not entirely loit. Society, though rude, was more improved than it had originally been. While the feveral chieftains and feudal lords waged war upon each other, they were in fome meafure dependent upon a prince, whofe power was gradually increafmg. At laft, though by flow degrees, the king obtained an afcendancy, and reduced the (late to regularity and compofure. The people flill retained their ancient laws, and a variety of rights. The nobility eflablifhed to themfelves certain privileges which had been long in their poflefiion. Government affumed a regu- lar formx in mofl: countries of Europe. The pri- vate wars of private communities and aflbciations, were at an end. The prince called the contend- ing parties before the tribunal of his judges ; and decided the contefl by the authority of law, in- flead of leaving it to the fate of arms, and the dic- tates of private revenge. The people began to enjoy more repofe than ever they had formerly done. Knowledge, and the arts of civilized life, grew up among them, in confequence of the pub- lic fecurity. They were better clothed, fed, and lodged, than they had formerly been. Even E 74 "^fjC Goodncfs ofGcd defended \n thofe countries where the monarch remained independent ; in confequence of regular govern- ment and the ftrii^l obfervance of civil juflice, men attained to a degree of happinefs, which, except \Xi a few free Hates of antiquity, had been un- known in former ages. Wars were not carried on with unrelenting and indifcriminate cruelty. Captives were no longer put to the fword, nor re- duced to the mifery of bondage. — The public fitu- ation of the world has thus been gradually im.prov- ing ; and many fources of human mifery are now dried up. There are ftiil, however, fome wounds of humanity left bleeding ; but we have reafon to believe, from the increafe of civilization and know- ledge, that they v/ill at lad be healed. II. Another queflion miay be afkcd, Whether the vices of men be decreafmg, as well as their mifery? It is to be remarked, that this queftion is not fo cafily anlwered as the former. The vices of men are often concealed in their own bofoms ; but their outward fituation is vifibie. The complaint in all ages has been common, that men are degenerating, and gradually becoming worfe and v.-orfe. The complaint, however, is probably not well founded. One thing we certainly know, that vice has at leaft aifumed a lefs boifterous form than it did in an- cient times. We hear no more, at leafl in thofe countries in which we are chiefly interefled, cf from the OhjeBicds of Mr, Hu?ne, 75 thofe aiTaiTinatlons and murders, thofe bloody afts of cruelty and revenge, that difregard to all cove- nants and promifes, and that grofliiefs in excefs of fenfual pafTions, which are every where to be re- marked in the hiftorles of ancient nations. Whe- ther our vices be lefs heinous than theirs, I fhall not pretend to determine ; they are at lead more concealed, and lefs adapted to diflurb the general tranquillity. The perfons with w^hom we con- verfe, may not have more worth than thofe in former times ; but they are at leaft more gentle in their manners, and we live am.ong them with more fecurity than could have been done fome centuries ago. — Thefe reflections feem to afford a decifive proof, that the fum of happinefs in human life greatly exceeds the fum of mifery, which is all that is at prefent contended for. If we attend to them, we vvill be at no lofs to form a proper judg- ment of thofe exaggerated complaints which have often been repeated by the gloomy and the difcon- tented, and mufl be fatisfied that they are very ill founded. Thefe complaints are often to be met with ; and I fliall read you the moll eloquent and moil exaggerated of any I knov/, which occurs, where it was not to have been expected, in the writings of Mr. Hume : * " The whole earth, believe me, Philo, Is curfed " and polluted, A perpetual war is kindled a- * Dial. p. 99. E 3 ':i 76 ' I'hc Goodnefs of God defended " mongft all living creatures. NecefTity, hunger, " want, flimulate the ftrongand courageous: Fear " anxiety, terror, agitate the weak and infirm. *' The firll entrance into life gives anguifh to the *' new-born infant and to its . wretched parent : *' Weaknefs, impotence, diftrefs, attend each flage " of that life : and 'tis at lall finilhed in agony and " horror. " Obferve too, fays Philo, the curious artifices *' of Nature, in order to embitter the life of every *' Kving being. The flronger prey upon the weak- *' er, and keep them in perpetual terror and anxi- " ety. The weaker too, in their turn, often prey " upon the flronger, and vex and moleft them *' without relaxation. Confider that innumerable '' race of infc6ls, which either are bred on the *' body of each animal, or flying about, infix their " flino^s in him. Thefe infeds have others flill *' lefs than themfelves, which torment them. And *' thus on each hand, before and behind, above " and below, every animal is furrounded with *' enemies, Vvhich inceffantly feek his mifery and " deflruclion. " Man alone, faid Demea, feems to be, m <' part, an exception to this rule. For by combi- *' nation in focicty, he can eafily mafler lions, ty- " gers, and bears, whofe greater (Irength and " agility naturally enable them to prey upon him. from the Objections of Mr. Hume, 77 " On the conrrary, it is here chiefly, cried Phi- *' lo, that the uniform and equal maxims of *•' Nature are mofi apparent. Man, it is true, can, " by combination, furmount rll his r^^/ enemies, '' and become maft^r of the whole animal crea- *' tion : but does he not immediately raife up to " himfelf imaginary enemies, the dem.ons of his *' fancy, who haunt him with fuperflitious terrors, '' and blaft every enjoyment of life ? His pleafure, *' as he imagines, becomes, in their eyes, a crime : *' his food and repofe give them umbrage and *' offence : his very fleep and dreams furnifli new *' materials to anxious fear : and even death, his *' refuge from every other ill, prefents only the *' dread of endlefs and innumerable vroes. Nor '' does the wolf moled more the timid flock, *' than fuperflition does the anxious breafl of *' wretched mortals. " Befides, confider, Demea ; this very fociety, *' by w^hich w^e furmount thofe wild beads, ' our *' natural enemies ; what new enemies does it not *' raife to us ? What v\^oe and mifery does it not *' occafion ? Man is the greatefl enemy cf man. '' Oppreinon, injuflice, contempt, contumely, vio- *' lence, iedition, w^ar, calumny, treachery, fraud ; *' by thefe they mutually torment each other : and *' they would foon diflblve that fociety which rhey ^' had formed, were it not for the dread of dill ^' greater ills, which mult attend their feparation. E3 ^^ S The G oodnefs of God defended " Bat though thefe exteraal iiifalts, fald De- *' mea, from animals, from men, iVom all the ele- '' ments, which affault us, form a frigiitful cata- " logue of woes, they are nothing in comparifon *' of thofe which arife within aurfclves, from the *' diflempered condition of oiir mind and body. *' How many X\^ under the lingering torment of *' difeafes ? Hear the pathetic enumeration of the ^^ great poet : ** Inteftine Hone and ulcer, colic-pangs, <' Demoniac frenzy, moping melancUoly, ** And moon-ftruck madnefa, pining atrophy, *' Marafmus and wide-wailing petlilence. ** Dire was the toiling, deep the groans: Despair ** Tended the iick, buiiell from couch to couch. ** And over thein triumphant Death liis dart « Shook, but delay'd to ftrike, tho' oft invokM ** With vows, as their chief good and final hope. " The diforders of the mind, continued Demea, *' though more fecret, are not perhaps lefs difmal *' and vexatious. Remorfe, fliame, anguifh., rage, ^' difappointment, anxiety, fear, dejcdion, defpair ; *' who has ever pafTcd through life without cruel " inroads from thefe tormentors ? How many " have fcarcely ever felt any better fenfations ? " Labour and poverty, fo abhorred by every one^ " are the certain lot of the far greater number : " and thofe few privileged perfons, who enjoy " eafe and opulence, never reach contentment, or <' true felicity." &c. frcm the Ohjecilons of Mr. Hume, 79* This is indeed a mod horrible view of human Y/oes. It is eloquence, but it is not founded upon fact. It is not a juil account of human life, to crowd all that is bad in it, as if it happened to every man, and at all times, into one afl'emblage. How fev/ are they that are ever much infefied with the flings of infefts, or with the ferocity of lions, tygers, and bears ! and how feidom is any man ex- pofed to thefe inconveniencies ! How few are there whofs enjoyments of life are blaHed by fuperui- tious terrors, the demons of their own fancy ! and are thefe always the moft innocent of them? Grofs crimes are committed, and fjvere difeafes are en- dured, but the generality of men are not crimi- nals, nor are the generality of them^ fubjeci: to the tortures of acute diftem.pers. Thofe v/ho are alBiCi- ed with remorfe and defpair, and the other dread- ful pafiions, are furely very few, and they certain- Iv are not the men vrho deferve to be haopv. And It fbme men have brought themfelvcs to fuch a frate of fenfibiiity and unreafonable deli- cacy, as to complain Vvhen there is no reafon for complaint, let them^ blame themfelves, and let o- thers blame t.be::i^ and not their Creator. Nothing can be m.ore unfair than to reprefent the m.ofl un- ufual fituations in which men are found, as if they were the ufual lot of humanity. There is furely more health than ficknefs, more delight than dii- quietude. Few labour under grievous afiiictions, in comparifon of the multitudes who are enjoying health and quiet, and the ordinary bleffings cf life* E4 So The Goodnefs of God defended The evils complained of fometimes happen. In fome part or other they are always happening ; but they are not the common ftate of mankind. Take every perfon as he is at prefent ; deprive him of all refledion on the pail and fear of the fu- ture ; and then, even of thofe who are diftreiTed, very few will think the prefent moment intolerable. All feem fenfible of a real charm in their prefent Itate of exillence, and they are generally unwilling to relinquifh it, not fo much from any dread of any thing beyond it, as from an attachment to its com- forts and fatisfactions, and to the various connec- tions of human hfe. Even when labouring under di- flrefs, they find certain alleviations in the prefence of thdr friends, and in the gratification of various pow- ers. Any exceptions to the common rule are fo rare, that they raife our aftoni(hment, and lead us to in- quire into the particular circumftances that have oc- cafioned them. If calamity, pain, and mifery, were, the comr.'^on lot of mankind, there would be fo- liar; y in tho^e complaints which have been made. But this is evidently not the cafe. Every man's experience and obfervation convinces him thcU men are not in general unhappy. If any one, t'Trefore, infifts upon being fo unreafonabie as to m\.nLa';x that man is always miferable, becaufe he is itanetimes fo, v/e need not be furprifed if we he?r him, in the Tityit place, affirm, that the Briiifh governm.ent is the word in the world, becaufe the people make more complaints than under any o- therj or that the fun is always oblcure, be- from the Obje^ions of Mr, Hume, 8 r caufe he is fometimes eclipfed, or becaufe a fpot fometimes appears on his furface. We admire the Britilh government, notwithllanding the frequent murmurs of the people againfl adminiilration. It is the fuperlative excellence of that government which makes its fubjecls know they are men, and feel they have a right to complain. It is only in defpotical governments, where the fubjeds think they have no privileges, and that every thing grant- ed them by their fuperiors proceeds from bounty, and not from right, that the people are never heard to mxurmur. We know alfo, that it is the bright- nefs of the fun that makes its eclipfes and its fpots vifible. If the fun v/ere always eclipfed, nobody would take any notice of it, any more than they do of the fpots of the moon, or the belts of Jupi- ter. Since then the good that appears in the world far furpaffes the evil, the evident conclufion is, that the Author and Governor of the world muft have intended to confer happinefs. We cannot believe that a great fcheme has been formed, in confequence of which, happinefs is in general dif- fufed through the univerfe, vvithout alio believing that this effed^ was intended. If this end were en- tirely out of view, and if every malevolent pur- pofe were alfo out of view, the evident conclufion is, that in all probability, good and evil would have been equal, and, at any rate, the difpropor- tion between them could not have been very great. But as the good in the univerfe far furpaffes the evil, there mull have been ber;eficent intention. ^5 2 T^he G oodnefs of God defended That God had no other end or view but to confer immediate happinefs, cannot perhaps be pofitively faid ; at leail it cannot fairly be faid, agreeably to the fenfe in which benevolenc : is generally underilood. By benevolence, in general, we mean the difpofi- tion to render others happy ; and by perted bene- volence, fome well difpofed perfons feem to have meant an inclination to render every perfon happy. They have accordingly afcribed this inclination, to render every being as happy as poffible, to the Divine Nature. This opinion is ill founded. If God had fo pleafed, he could undoubtedly have rendered every being he has formed completely happy. He could have made them incapable even of rendering themfelves miferable : Ke could have made them necelTary inftead of voluntary agents ; •and compelled them to act in the way that would infallibly have produced felicity ; or he might have contrived things in fucl^ a manner, that they mud have been happy in whatever way they acled. He has not ordered matters in any fuch way, and therefore we may be fure that he never intended to do fo. Every thing is fo conduced, that his creatures arife to greater and greater degrees of happinefs, in confequence of their own exertion, and in confequence of tlie improvement which, by his appointment, follows from their exertions. The more wife and the more virtuous they be- come, the more happy they are of confequence. It is evident, therefore, though the Deity intended to communicate happinefs, and has done fo in the moft liberal planner, yet this was not the only twdi from the OhjeElions of Mi\ Hume. 83 which he had in view. His beneficence muft be confidered as connected with the other aclive principles of his nature. He intended to make man happy, but it was \\\ a particular manner, which he knew would at lad contribute to the greateil general felicity of the fpecies. If we fup- pofe benevolence, or the difpofition to confer im- mediate or uriquaiiiied happinefs, to be the only principle of action in the Divine Mind, we can fee no reafon why there fliouid be evil of any kind in the worldatall, fmce undoubtedly his wifdom wasfuffici- ent to forefee it, and his power to prevent it. But fmce there is much more happinefs than mifery in the world, we have fufiicient reafon to conclude, that he acted from benevolence. The prefumptioa arifing from this confideration evidently is, that he mud have alfo had other principles of action be- fides benevolence, but whether fubfervient to it, upon the whole, or not, is not the prefent queftion. The opinion I have now exprefled feems, in general, to have been embraced by thofe who ha;e afferted the being and perfedions of God ; yet io unfair have their opponents been, that from a few unguarded expreffions of fome excellent men, they have inHiled, that benevolence, or a deure to communicate the greated: poffible happi- nefs to his creatures, is the only principle of action in the Divine Nature; which opinion certainly ought not to be admitted. In particular, this view has been taken up by Mr. Hume, and has been urged 84 ^h^ Goodnefs of God defended by him in his poflhunious dialogues. His fceptic infills upon it ; and his rational philclopher does not deny it. Indeed, upon this point, that perfed benevolence is the only principle of action in the Deity, they feem to be altogether agreed. It mufl, however, be obferved, that the argument is of confequence treated unfairly. That benevo- lence is the only principle of action in God, has not generally been believed, and, excepting in an unguarded expreflion or tv/o, in the works of the amiable and ever memorable Dr. Hutchifon, I be- lieve it never has been aiferted by any writer of real eminence on the fubjecl of natural religion. Yet Mr. Hume fuppofes all along, that univerfal benevolerice is acknowledged, by all who believe in a God, to be the only principle upon which he can a£l. If this be allowed him, he concludes fairly enough, that we have no evidence of bene- volence in the Deity, fnice, v.'ith infinite power and infinite wifdom, he might certainly have pre- vented evil. Hence he concludes, that the Deity muft be indifferent to good and evil *. In anfwer to all this hypothcfis, it may jufl be obferved, that if neither good nor evil were in- tended, the probability is, that neither the one nor the other would preponderate. Both good and e\ il are diftributed ; and if the Being who diftri^ buted them be indifferent about them, and had it * Dial. p. J 25. ad imura. from the Objecficns of Mr, Hume. 5 8 in his po^vcr to diftribute the one as well as the other, the chance is demon drably, that in a great many inllaaces, the quantity in both fides wiU be equal. If two forts of guineas, of different fizes, be iiTucd from the Mint, the chance i^, that an e- qual number of each will be returned into the Treafury : But, with refpccl to happinefs and mi^ fery in the world,, the cafe is very different ; for happinefs is much more univerfal than mifery. They did not therefore proceed from a being in- different about either. It was not his only inten- tion to render his creatures happy ; he intended to render them happy in 2i particular manner. He wanted that they Ihould rife to eminence by dili- gence, labour, and exertion. He has other prin- ciples bendes the pure defire of communicat- ing happinefs ; he has acted according to them ; and though it be allowed that he intended to make his creatures happy, it does not follow that he in- tended nothing elfe. Neither one nor other, then, of Mr. Hume's hypothefes has the lead founda- tion in truth. ' It is not true that the Deity is en- dowed with perfed goodnefs, underdanding good- jnefs, in his fenfe, as excluding every other prin- ciple of adion ; nor is it true that he has perfed niahce, or indeed any malice at all. Nor is it true that he has both goodnefs and mahce, be- caufe, as Mr. Hume himfelf very well obferves, the uniformity and deadinefs of general lav/s, op- pofe this opinion. Nor is it true that he is indiife- rent to the welfare or milery of his creatures, fmce ^6 The Goodnefs of God defended it is evident that goodnefs prevails upon the whole, and is greatly fuperior to any appearances of evil which are difcernible in the univerfe. From all the obfervations that have been made upon this fubjed, the evident conclufion is, that God mud be good, or that he miifl have an un- alterable difpofition to communicate happinefs. As he is entirely happy in himfelf, he could not poffibly have any motive in producing various or- ders of creatures, but to render them happy. He cannot, therefore, be aduated by envy or malice, or any of thofe propenfities which incline men to injure one another. All thefe arife from human •weaknefs and imperfedion. He has no tempta- tion, and can have none, to render his creatures miferable. If any of them fuiFer calamity, it mufl arife from fome other fource than malevolence in the mind that direds the univerfe. The manifold inflances of goodnefs, which we have an opportu- nity both of beholding and enjoying, afford us mofi: convincing proofs of the divine goodnefs. Thefe difplays of benignity could not proceed from the indifcriminating hand of chance ; they could not proceed from a being that was indiffe- rent to our happinefs or mifery. On either of thefe fuppofitlons, the utmoll that could have hap- pened would have been, that the happinefs and mifery of the world would have been equal. The prefumption is, that the balance would have turn- ed very confiderably to the fide of mifery. The from the Objections cf Mr. Hume, 87 poil*ble meaixS by which fcntient crCcUurcs may be "made to fuffer pain, are much more numerous than thofe by which they may be made to enjoy happinefs ; and if every thing v/as ordered with- out any intention to promote happinefs, the pro- babihty is, that more of the cirA-umilances by which we may be rendered unhappy would have occured, than of thofe by which we may be rendered hacpy. If we fuppofe benevolent intention out of the queftion, the matter is reduced precifely to the fa'iie fituation, with regard to this point, as if every thing had proceeded from chance. It is of no confequence what may be fuppofed to have been intended, if the purpofe was not to communicate happinefs ; for fehcity could not have been diilri- buted in greater plenty than mifery, unlefs this very mode of difiribution had been intended. We fee, in taCt, that there is much more happinefs than mifery in the world ; we m.uft therefore believe that this difiribution proceeded from benevolent intention, and muif of confequence afcribe to the Deity a difpofition to communicate happinefs. The only remaining quedion is, what degree of goodnefs are we to afcribe to God \ Is there any conllderation, that will lead us to confider it as of a limited and imperfect nature ? I knovv^ of none from which we can be induced to form any fuch conclufion. Every thing feems to declare, that the Divine Benigniry has no limits, but thofe which are prefented by infinite wifdom, or, in other 8 8 ne Goodnefs of God defended words, that God always does thofe things which he fees to be. beft and moft proper upon the whole, for the good ot his creatures. Mr. Hume, however, reafons in a different manner, and concludes, that we ought to aibribe to the Divine Nature a very limited degree, not only of goodnefs, but alfo of power and wifdom. His reafonings on this fubjecl are to be found in his effay " Of a Providence and Future State,'* where they are put into the mouth of Epicurus ; and in his '' Dialogues on Natural Religion." " When we infer any particular caufe from an elFed, he fays, we mud proportion the one to the other, and can never be allowed to afcribe to the caufe any quahties but what are exadly fufficient to pro- duce the effed. A body of ten ounces raifed in any fcale, may ferve as a proof that the counter- balancing weight exceeds ten ounces ; but can never afford a reafon that it exceeds a hundred. If the caufe alTigned for any efied, be - not fufii- cient to produce it, we mud either rejed that caufe, or add to it fuch qualities as will give it a jufl proportion to the effed. But if we afcribe to it further quahties, or affirm it capable of pro- ducing other effeds ; we can only indulge the licence of conjedure, and arbitrarily fuppofe the exiftence of qualities and energies, without reafon or authority. If the caufe be known only by the effed, we never ought to afcribe to it any quali- ties beyond what are preciiely requifite to pro- from the Objections of Mr, Hiane. 89 duce this effedt. Allowing, therefore, the Gods to be the authors of the exigence or order of the univerfe, it follows, that they poiT^^fs the precife degree of power, intelligence, and benevolence, which appears in their workmanfhip ; but no- thing further can ever be proved. So far as the traces of any attributes at prefent appear, fo far we conclude thefe attributes to exifl : The fup- poiltion of further attributes is mere hypothefis." This reafoning is carried on by Mr. Hume to a very confiderable length, and is embelliflied with a great deal of eloquence. There is, how- ever, an evident objection to it. We do in facl afcribe to the caufe, qualities which we do not, fee in the effed ; v/e mud do fo in ccrmon liuj and we ad every day upon fuch conclufion. If a man lift a certain weight with much eafe, we conclude that he could lift a much greater weight if he were to exert himfelf. If a watchmaker forms one good watch, we conclude that he is able to make another equally good. This observation is obvious, and it occurred to Mr. Hume himfelf; and he dates it accordingly, in anfwer to the fup- pofed harangue of Epicurus. " If you faw," fays he, " a half-finilhed building furrounded with heaps of brick and Hone, and mortar, and all the inflru- ments of mafonry, could you not infer from the eifect, that it was a v/ork of defigned contrivance? And could you not return again from this infer- F 9 0 The Gcodnefs of God defended red caufe, to Infer new additions to the effect j and conclude that the building would loon be finiflied, and receive ali the further improvements which art could bellow upon it ? If you faw upoa the fea-fliore the print of one human foot, you would conclude that a man had pafi'ed that way, and that he had alfo left the traces of the other foot, though effaced by the rolling of the fands, or in- undation of the waters. Why then do you re- fufe to admit the fame method of reafoning, with regard to the order of nature ? To this it is anf- wered, that we reafon in this way, with refpe6l to men, becaufe we know by experience what eifeds they can produce. V/e are acquainted by obferva- tion, with the nature of the'^ agent, with his mo- tives and his inclinations, and we exped to fee again what we have feen a hundred times before ; but the Deity is known to us only by his pro- ductions, and is a fingle being in the univerfe, not comprehended under any fpecies or genius, from whole experienced attributes or qualities we can, by analogy, infer any attribute or quality in him. As the univerle fhews wifdom and good- nefs, we infer wifdcm and goodnefs. As it fhews a particular degree of thefe perfections, we infer a particular degree of them, precifely adapted to the efixcl which we examine. But further attri- butej-^, cr further degrees of the fame attributes, we Cc.n never be authoriicd to infer or fuppofe, by any rules of jufu reafoning." from the OhjeSlions of Mr, Hume* g i I have given this reafoning pretty fully, becaufe it is profecuted at great length in the fceptical works of Mr. Hume ; and the writings of that author, on account of his abilities and eloquence, are in every perfon's hands. The argument is fpe- cious, when drelTed out by a fine writer ; but at bottom is fo infulricient, as hardly to need a feri- ous confutation. I fliewed formerly, that our notion of caufe and efFed, is not what Mr. Hume fuppofes it to be. He fuppofes that there is no- thing more in the matter, than the bare conjunc- tion of two objects or events ; and that we call the one the caufe and the other the effeft, not from difcerning any fort of connexion between them, but merely from perceiving that the one is always joined with, or follows the other. 1 fliewed that mere conjunction never gives us any notion of caufation ; and that two things may be united, or may follow one another to all eternity, without fuggefting to us any notion of caufe and efFe6i: what- ever. We have a clear and diflindl notion of power ; and unlefs we had this notion, we could never have any conception of caufe and effect. We have no need of experience and obfervation, to convince us that a caufe operates and produces an effeft. Whenever we fee an effect produced, we neceffarily infer, that the production of it was owing to the exertion of a caufe ; and this infer- ence v/e make as itrongly, the firfl time that we fee an effect produced, as we can do after we have feen it a thoufand times. We make this inference every F 2 92 The Goodnefs of God defended day, Vvith refped to men. Though they perform adions totally unlike any thing we have formerly had experience of, we never hefitare to declare that they performed them ; and accordingly afcribe to them ail the praife or blame of th^m. Sup- pofmg the univerfe to be as fmgular an effed as you pleafe, \yq mufl afcribe it to a caufe able to produce it. It is only a fmall part of the univerfe with which we are acquainted, but we perceive in it wifdom and goodnefs ; have we not then rea- fon to conclude, that there is wifdom and goodnefs difplayed alfo in thofe parts of it, which we never faw ? If only part of a face in a fine pidlure were fliewn us, and all the refl of it were covered with a veil, would we not infer, that the refl of the picture v/as fmiilar to what we beheld, and that the painter had more merit than was exhibited to us ? If we had an opportunity of feeing a few apart- ments in an elegant houfe, and had not time to vifit the refl:, v»^ould we conclude, that all, except what we had feen, was unfmiflied and void of elegance ? Would it not be much more fair to conclude, that what we had not feen, was of a piece with what we had examined ? If a ftatefman gives a piece of prudent advice in the privy coun- cil, which was adopted, and attended with great fuccefs to the nation ; though he had never prc- pofed any fcheme, good or bad, before that time, would thofe that heard him afcribe to him pre- cifely the degree of wifdom which he had then ex- hibited, and no more ? Would they not rather be from the OhjeBions of Mr, Hums, 93 Inclined to think, that his judgment might be of prear confequence in o.her bufniefs o national concern ? and would they not, afterward], be difpofed to liden to him with attention, and con- fult him when difficulties occured ? If we read a fn :)rt poem of remarkable beauty, we would not, furely, afcribe to the poet only the merit it dif- covered ; but would conclude, that he had talents equal to the production of more poems, different in their Rruclure, embelliflied with different ima- gery, and of different length. We form judgments of a fimilar kind, with regard to moral condud ; and, upon many occa- fions, afcribe to a man a certain character, .even from a fmgle act. If a man has once been guilty of fraud, we confider him as capable of repeat- ing the fam.e fraudulent behaviour ; and take care, ever after, not to truft him. On the other hand, if we fee a man perform a remarkable acl of gene- rofity and kindnefs, we form, a favourable judg- ment, and believe that he is difpofed to perform many actions of the fame nature.. Similar infer- ences muff necelfarily be made, when we refied upon the Divine Nature. The Deity has exhibited to us many inflances of power, of wifdom, and of goodnefs. We muil, therefore, fuppofc thefe to be attributes of his character. We know, that it is only a fm.all part of his works with v/hich we are intimately acquainted ; but we nmfl believe, that if we were acquainted with the reft, we would F3 94 ^ '^be Goodncfs of God defended difcern through them all, veiliges of the fame per- fedions ; and as we know not of the boundaries of his operation, fo we can fix no limits to thefe attributes. We have reafon to believe, that they far exceed any thing of which we can form a con- ception. The fallacy, then, of Mr. Hume's reafoning, concerning the Divine Attributes, as well as of his reafoning concerning the Divine Exiflence, lies in the imperfedion of the notion of caufe and effed:, which he endeavours to eflablifh. If we have a notion of power, natural to us and inde- pendent of experience, we can infer the exiflence of qualities and attributes in the caufe, from the obfervation only of a fmgle effed. From one ad of beneficence,' we infer goodnefs in the agent ; and if that ad be often repeated, or if a long feries of good effeds be performed, we muft believe that there is more excellence in the mind from which they flow, than is exerted in all of thefe ads ; or in Glher words, that it is difpofed to perform more ads of the fame nature. Mr. Hume's objedion, then, is not valid, even upon his own fuppofition, that the univerfe is a fmgle efi^ed, which has nothing fimilar to it with which it may be compared. But that hypothefis itfelf is falfe. We form our judgment concern- ing the Author and Governor of the World, in the lame manner that we form our judgment con^ from the Objedicns of Mr, Hume. 95 cerning one another. As we form our opinions of human characters, from obferving particular adions ; fo we form our notions of the Divine Character, from obferving the works of nature and of providence. We regard men as the caufes of thofe adions which they perform ; and, in like manner, we regard God as the author of every- thing in the univerfe, and afcribe to him all the excellence which its flruclure manifells. So far are the tv/o cafes from being entirely diffimilar, that they perfectly refemble each other in every thing, excepting magnitude, dignity, and impor- tance ; and this circumflance in v/hich they differ, in as far as it relates to the prefent queflion, is of no coniequence whatever. If we afcribe goodnefs to a man from obferving his actions ; for the fame reafon, we mull afcribe m.uch more goodnefs to the Supreme Mind, when we behold the immenfe profufion of his bounty fcattered through the univerfe. The cafes are perfectly fimilar, and the inference in both of them is formed in the fame manner. If, from the effects which a m.an produces, wc afcribe certain attributes to him as their caufe, and then reafon back a^ain from the caufe which we have afiigned to other effects which we con- clude it capable of producing, which Mr. Hume himfelf admits to be a fair way of reafoning ; vv^e are entitled to reafon in the lame manner con- cerning the Supreme Being. We oblcrve much F4 gS The Goodncfs of God defended goodnefs dill ufed through the world ; hence we conclude that God is good, or that he intend.^ to communicate happinefs to his creatures. Having thus diicovered a beneficent cauf'e, we reaion back to the eiiecis, and conclude, that his goodneis muil: be proportioned to his: power and hi^ wifdom,* or ihat he will communicate ha/?pinefs in everyplace of his dominions, where he percei\ es that it will be proper to communicate it. if this mode of drawing an inference be juil in the one. 'bale,- which it certainly is, it muit alfo be jufl it: the other; for the tvv^o cafes .are precifely parallel. That God is a fnigie being in the univerfe, com- prehended under no fpecies nor genius, is true in one fenfe, but not in the fenfe in which Mr. Hume underftands it. It is true, that God is in- finitely fuperior to all other beings, that he is the independent and firil cauie of all, and tliat all other beings are hmited and dependent ; but it is not true, tha: there is nothing in which other beings refembie God. Excellence in man, though different in degree, is not different ia its natur-e from excellence in God, for man is formed after the image of God. Since, then, intellicrent and moral agents refembie God, the a£lions of men muff be confideied as in fome refpecis fmiilar to the Divine operations ; and the iame mode of reafoning is applicable in both cafes. In this fenfe, the univerfe is not a fingular effed, nor is its author a fmguiar caufe ; ior by fnigu- larity in this matter is not m.eant fuperiority, bat from the Objections of Mr, Hume, 97 merely the want of all common qualities, and of every degree whatever of refemblance. Thus have I endeavoured to fliow that God is good. Since his power is irrgfiflibie, he mud of necedity be difpofed to communicate happineis, as he call have no temptation to malice or envy, or the excrcife of any other malevolent principle. His works clearly evidence that he is good, for the happinefs that appears amongft his creatures is imtnenfely greater than any evils they fuf?er ; and we muil afcribe all their felicity to him, as the beneiicent caaie of it. DISCOURSE IV. On the Justice and Moral Gofernment of GOD. I. THAT there is a moral government eftabii/h- ed in the world, and that Divine Juflice is perpetually executed for the encouragement of virtue, and the difcouragement of vice, is a truth confirmed by the experience of mankind. Through every part of the adminiflration of God, that v^e have any opportunity of being acquainted with, we fee evident marks of a love to virtue, and a hatred to vice, in him that rules and direds the univerfe. Virtue, in fa£l, always produces happi- nefs to the man who poffefTes it ; and vice is always productive of pain or uneafmefs. It is not, however, pretended that virtue and happinefs are always infeparably conneded, nor that mifery is occafioned only by vice. There 0« the Jujlice^ ^c. of God. 99 are many fources of pleafare and pain, altogether unconnected with moral conduct. Every fort of exertion, the gratification of every paifion, the acquifition of every advantage, is naturally at- tended with delight. Thofe pleafures arife from the adion itfelf, or from its confequences, and not from moral qualities ; they belong promifcu- oufly to good and to bad men. We muft believe that the word of men feel pieafure from good fortune, as well as the beft. Pleafures and pain of this nature, are plainly no evidence of a moral government, or of the contrary ; and if all our enjoyments and uneafmelTes arofe from fnnilar fources, we would have no reafon to believe in the righteoufnefs or juftice of God, whatever reafon we might have to believe in his goodnefs. That pieafure fliould arife to us from many fources, is a clear proof of kind and benevolent intention, but prefents no evidence whatever of an upright adminiftration. All the pleafures and pains, v/hich w^e have in common with the inferior animals, and mofl of thofe which arife from the defire of wealth and of power, when they are pur- fued moderately, and without any violation of juftice, feem to be of this kind. Of the fame kind are many of the pleafures of tafte, though not nearly the whole of them. Ail of thefe ad- minifler pieafure to us, when they are purfued within due bounds. They are evidences of our Maker's bounty and generofity, as they fliew that ■ he has been mindful of our happinefs, and has ICO On the Jufiice and made liberal provifion for it ; but they are uncon- nc£i:ed with R"ioral condud, and therefore prefent us with no proof of a moral adminiltration. With- out attending to this diflindion, we cannot clearly underltand what a moral adminiflration is. But there are certain pleafures, and thefe too of the mod exquifite kind, which arife from the virtuous quality of the adion, independently of the adion itfelf. Virtue, confidered m.ertly as what is right, gives us pleafure independently of all confe- quences that arife from it ; and vice gives pain, merely from the confideration that it is wrong, even when we do not reflect upon any of its hurt- ful confequences. We feel that we are moral agents : there is a power implanted in our mind, by means of w hich, we not only difcover v^hat is right and wrong in our own condud, and in the conduct of others ; but by means of Vvhich,' we alfo approve of ourfelves and others for good be- haviour, and difapprove of bad behaviour. We not only perceive what is right and w hat is wrong, and form judgments concerning thofe qualities of adions ; but we alfo enjoy pleafure, or fufler pain, in confequence of our perceptions and judg- ments. Confcience not only didates what we ought to perform ; it alfo affords us pkaiure when we obey its commands, and fills us with painful fenfations when we negkd them. It is a law within our breads, and its precepts are enforced by the fandion of rewards annexed to obedience, and of pumdiments annexed to dii obedience. It Moral Govermnenf of God. i o r Is in confequence of our fubjeclion to the law of confcience, that we are properly moral agents, and are to be confidered as fubjccls of the moral adrnmifLration of God. It is his law that pre- fcribes to us our duty ; for it was he who implanted confcience within us, and it is he who difpenfes rewards and punirn:nents by means of it. It is by his appoiiitinent, that pleafure and pain follow the obedience, or the tranigreilion of the law he has given us. That virtue Is produ(3:ive of great advantages in the world, is a truth which has been acknow- iedeed bv men in all aj^es. Some of old man- tained, that it alone produces happinefs ; and tnany others maintained, that the happinefs ariiing from it is fo valuable, that every other fort of pleafure is contemptible in comparifon of it. The Epicurians were the fed in ancient times, that wanted to level the diftindion between virtue and Vice. They would not allow that virtue is ehgible on its own account, or that it has any thing in its nature preferable to vice ; yet, from a regard to their own private intereft, they profeiTed to re- gulate their condud: by the fame rules, as if they believed virtue to be valuable, and to avoid vice on account of the pains and inconveniences which follow it. While they maintained, that gene- rofity, temperance, and juftlce, had no inherent value ; they alfo acknowledged, that any man who was inhuman, unjuft, or debauched, aded 102 On the Jiiftice and as a madman. It is aflonifhing, that when they faw virtue regularly produclive of happinefs, and vice of mifery, they did not draw the obvious con- clufion, that there muft be an adminiflration eflabliflied, by means of which thefe confe- qucnces are uniformly produced. That virtue fhould receive a reward, in the regular courfe of things, and vice a punifhment, feems clearly to prove, that there is a plan going forward, under the condud of a juft and impartial adminiflrator ; and it feems as im.pofTible to refufe this con- clufion, as to refufe that any other eifecl mufl have an adequate caufe. That virtue is always rewarded in this world, and that vice is always pu- nifhed, cannot be pretended ; and there are good reafons v/hich might be pointed out, why this diflri- bution of things fhould not immediately take place*. But that virtue is always produdive of happinefs, and vice of mifery, may, 1 think, be fafely affirm- ed. The fame thing cannot be affirmed of any other coi.rfe of adlion whatever. If this be the cafe, there mufl be a moral adminiflration efla- blifhed in the world, and the Ruler of all things mufl be jufl and impartial ; he mufl love virtue and hate vice. It would require a long indudion of particulars, to point out the advantages of virtue, r.nd the disadvantages of vice. The mat- ter will, 1 hope, be fufficiently evident from a few inftances, ftlefted from an immenfe number that might be produced, * Butkr. Moral Gov^^^ment c- '" •'7.? '^. 1 03 Enjoyments have, prcjperly cuuu^ i, be n ar- ranged by ancient phiL-iophers, under three clalfes ; thofe which ariie from our connedion with body, thofe wh.th arile from external things, and thofe which arife from iniiid. Ihe two former of thefeciaifes (lo not alwavs depend upon us. There are many enjovTnents proceeJiag from the (late of the body, and from external things, that muft depend upon general laws of matter and motion. As a part of our frame is connected with the material fabric of the univerfe, it mufl be fubjeci: to its laws ; and conveniences or incon- veniences muil, of neceffity, arife from this con- nection. One man enjoys a good conftitution, from caufes that depend not on him ; and another man, from caufes equally independent upon him, is fprung from refpeclable anceilry, or is born to the pofleiiion of a large fortune. From thefe fources arife certain enjoyments, that are not of a moral nature, and are unconnected with the pleafures that refult from virtue. It is, however, certain, that a number of enjoyments, both refpect- ing our corporeal frame and our circumftances in the world, do arife from the practice of virtue ; and thofe which arife from it, ought to be afcrib- ed to it. Health is the natural Hate of man, and ficknefs is only an accidental circumftance. Some have conftitutions more firm than others, and enjoy a more uninterrupted Hate of health j but the word 104 On the Jufiice and conftitutions may be improved, and the befl may- be weakened. There is nothing that confirms the conftitution, both of mind and of body, fo much as induifry and temperance. This is the leflbn daily prefented both by the phyfician and the pa- rent, and both of them dehver the dictates of wif- dom and experience. On the contrary, nothing has fuch a tendency to relax the whole human frame, both of body and mind, as indolence and debauchery. The young man who is addid:ed to either of them, wears grey hairs' before his time, and brings upon himfelf difeafes which refemble the decrepitude of old age, and hurry him to his grave ; while the temperate and adive play-fel- lows of his early years, are enjoying the blelTmgs of life. Corporeal pain is the natural wages of intemperance ; and there are few inveterate difeafes that may not be traced to this fource. The melan- choly confideration is, that often they do not flop with the perfon who has brought them up- on himfelf; but entail on poflerity hereditary pain and weaknefs. It is hardly poflible, in the way in which things are at prefent conflituted, to perfill in any excefles without fuffering the penalties annexed to them. Laffitude, and at lad the lofs of health, and death itfelf, proceed from them. The vigour of youth may, for a time, prevent their ravages, but the arrow is fhot, its poifon is fatal ; and its effeds, though for a time latent, will at lafl appear, and dilTolve the whole frame. The advantages of virtue, and the Moral Government of God, 105 *dlfad vantages of vice, are clearly marked In the tendency of the one to produce health, llrength, and agility ; and in the tendency of the other to bring on difeafes, w-eaknefs, and every inadlive habit. In the next place, though virtue has an evident tendency to furnifh a man with a competent fhare of the good things of this life; the whole of them do not depend upon it. Many of the diilinclions in civil fociety, arife from caufcs in which there is no perfonal merit. A man may be born to honours and fortune ; this, undoubtedly, pro- duces enjoyments, though they are not the enjoy- ments of virtue. Sed genus, et proavos, et qua; non fecimus ipfi, Vix ea noftra voco. — But though the enjoyments of fortune are not always the attendants of virtue, yet the man who acls according to the rules of confcience, and exerts himfelf as is dictated to him by the con- ftitution of his nature, is in the fairefl way of pofTeiTmg them. The good will of mankind at- tends the man of a virtuous charader ; they wifii to throw every advantage into his hands ; they are grieved for every difappointment he meets with ; and they endeavour to prevent the confe- quences of it, by every encouragement in their power. G I b6 On the jfiifiice and The good things depending on external circutTi-' ftances, are chiefly reducible to riches^ fame, and power. Thefe are not the neceilary attendants of virtue, nor are they diflributed according to any general rule, nor are they always conne6led with happinefs : Yet, even with refpe61: to them, it may fafely be afHrmed, that the good man has the beft chance of polTefling them, and that he is the only man who can derive much felicity from them. The man w^ho has procured riches by avarice and opprelTion, or who has attained to power by corruption and venality, may enjoy fome degree of pleafure ; but it mufl: be ilrongly intermixed with difagreeable fenfations, from the confcioufnefs of condud that is wrong. A man will not necelTarily become rich, in confequence of being virtuous ; but he is in the moil probable way of attaining a competent fhare of the goods of fortune. Neither is it probable, that a man's goodnefs will raife him to the higheft fummit of power ; he will, however, gain influ- ence from this confideration. There is nothing fo powerful as virtue and good conduQ:, in pro- curing an afcendancy over the minds of others. It infallibly procures the love and efteem of all who have an opportunity of obferving it. It has fometimes been uttered, as a complaint againft human-kind, that they are now degenerated > that merit is negledcd, and fufFered to fleep in ob- fcurity ; while infolence, ignorance, and folly, oc- cupy offices of truit. There feems to be no foun- Moral Gcvent?)ient of God. 107 uation for the complaint. Merit is ellcemcd and honoured wherever it appears. It mud (hew itfelf ; it mud fend forth its leaves and its bloffoms, be- fore it can perfed its fruit. It is not to be rewarded as merit, till there be an opportunity of cbferving that it deferves the reward. A man has no right to become peevifli for not meeting with encouragement, though he is confcious that he deferves it, while he has not given evidence that he is deferving of it. Whatever may be his own judgment, other perfons can only judge from what they have an opportunity of obferving. — Vice is, on the contrary, difcountenanced. The refentment of mankind is excited againil it ; they hate the man of vicious charader, and, by every method in their power, endeavour to deprive him of vv^ealth and influence. Kis fame and good character are ruined : Men avoid his fociety, and endeavour to draw others from alTociating vv^ith him. With refpect, then, to our bodily conftitu- tions, and Vv-ith refpeft to the external good things of life, it is evident that the advantage is on the fide of virtue. Intemperance produces dhiipation of fpirits, poverty, and bad health. Avarice and ambition are attended with envy, jealoufy, refentment, care, folicitude, and many mental affliclions. Even the v/icked acknowledge the worth of goodnefs : they defpife the m/an whofe charader refembles their own, and extol the man who poflfefTes genuine worth. The praifes that Solomon beflows upon virtue, under the G 2 ic8 On the Jiijlice and character of wifdom, are jull and well exprefledt I quote him as an obferver of mankind, not as a facred writer. " She is more precious than ru- " bies, and all the things thou canft defire are *' not to be compared with her. Length of days is *Mn her right hand, and in her left riches and *' honour. Her ways are ways of pleafantnefs, and '' all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life untu " every one that layeth hold upon her ; and happy ^' is every one that retaineth her,'* 11. Thele advantages of virtue, refped us merely as we are men ; but there are many other agree- able confequences of it, which refpecl us as we are members of fociety. There are implanted in our minds, certain principles which conned us with one another. Man cannot Uve alone ; he muft neceflarily be conneded with others, in the inter- courfe of focial fentiments and duties. The ne- ceiTities of man, as well as his incHnations, con- ned him with his brethren of mankind : He has frequent occafion for their affiftance and advice, their countenance and protedion, and even their company, in order to enable him to pafs through this life with coiiifort. There are a variety of principles in our nature, by which we are conneded with one another. A great number of thefe are altogether independent of us ; and, by the conliitution of our nature, exert themfclves involuntarily. Of this fori, are the parental and filial aifedions, and all the connedioiis which refult from blood and con- Moral Govenimcfit of God, 109 fanguinity. But there are alfo fome of them, and thofe too of the moil endearing kind, which arife from voluntary choice. We form friend- ships and connections in life, which we are apt to regard as flrongly as any other tie by which we are bound to our brethren of mankind. The advantages of friendlhip are known to all. The man who never had a friend, is in a deplorable iituation. In diftrefs, a friend partakes of our imeafmefs ; our thoughts, in confequence of his attention, are turned away from ourfelves, and we feel for the uneafmefs which our fituation occafions to him ; our fentiments, of confequence, become fympathetic, inflead of being folitary ; and when- ever they become of that kind, they ceafe to be infupportable. Even joy cannot fubfift, in any confiderable degree, in folitude ; for it is a focial emotion, and in the very midft of fociety, muft immediately vanifh, unlefs it be fupported by the mutual delight which it has occafioned. On what is friendfhip founded ? We have heard of villains, that have formed affociations ; we have heard of robbers, who have gathered in bands un- der a daring leader ; we have heard of pirates, who have united under an able commander : But thefe afTociations were not founded upon the principle of friendiliip, but on that of intereft. There never was any firm attachment, nor any fe^ ^iire reliance upon one another, among the perfons G3 I ra On the ^uftice and who were engaged in fuch combinations. They ailbciated from motives of interefl, and, from the fame motives, they flu-died to ad their part proper- ly, v/hile they were gathered together ; but they never pofleffed any real efteem for the characters of one another. Every attachment that is fmcere and lading, mufl be founded upon a regard to merit. Without a perfuafion of worth, v«^e can have no truft and reliance upon one another. Virtue is the foundation of every ufeful and iafting attachment. All the connections v/hich are founded in vice, mufl be unflable and ihort- lived. If we confider our connection with fociety, m a more extenfive light, than merely as we are afTociated with our friends ; we fhall find the ad- vantages of virtue, and the difadvantages of vice, equally evident. I formerly mentioned, that the favour of men commonly attends the virtuous : It is m.en of this clafs whom they efteem, and whom they wifh to be fuccefsful. It is equally re- markable, that their refentments are levelled ao*ainfl the vicious. Thofe who commit a6:s of violence and injuilice, are univerfaliy detefled and abhorred by mankind. Though a vicious perfon may avoid the penalties infiided by lav/, he can- not avoid the hatred and contempt of mankind. Even the laws of civil fociety may be confider- cd, in one light, as the laws of Cod. They are Moral Government of God. 1 1 1 not, indeed, infallible. Frequently, they may not be fo framed, as to include every tranfgrefTor, and at no time can they trace out every offender ; but they are founded upon the diflindion be- tween virtue and vice ; and as far as human pru- dence can direct, they are calculated to encou- rage virtue and difcouragc vice. Thefe civil laws,, though they are conducted by men, are to be confidered as inftitutions of God. It is by his appointment, that civil fociety is eftablifhed in the world. The laws by which it is governed, are, in general, the laws of confcience, v/hich he has implanted in every heart ; and the fubordina- tions, by m.eans of which it is adminiftered, alfo arife from his diilribution. The encouragement, therefore, given to virtue, and the difcouragement thrown in the way of vice by the magiftrate, may all juftly be confidered as ordinances of God. But the principal enjoyments we poiTefs, and thofe which more efpecially point out a moral ad- miniftration, are thofe which arife from our own minds. We are fo conftituted by our Maker, that we receive a number of pleafures from the performance of our duty. The Deity has implanted in our minds a va- riety of kind affedions, by means of which we .are intereiled in the welfare of one another. The exercife of all thefe benevolent affeclions, independently of any reiledions upon the confe- G 4 112 On the Juftice and quences which they produce, is highly agreeable. The mind is warmed and captivated by means of them, and finds itfelf occupied by a mofl delight- ful train of fenfations : But even thefe receive their principal charm, when they are confidered. as connected with the claims of duty ; when they are followed by generous adions ; and when they are ratified by approbation of confcience. There is nothing fo well fitted to delight the fout of man as virtue ; it is even an agreeable objecl of contemplation. Agreeable fenfations are excited whenever we behold it in the conduft of our neigh- bours ; and the mod tranfporting emotions are ex- cited in our hearts, v/hen we are confcious of it in ourfelves. The m.an who pofleifes the amiable and gentle afFedions of the heart, and exercifes them under the dire£l:ion of rational and worthy principles ; and who, by unwearied perfeverance, has rendered the practice of his duty habitual to him, enjoys pieafures that cannot be conceived by thofe v/ho have negleded to form their character in a fimilar manner. Good difpofitions, direded by upright intentions and determinations, and confirmed by habit, being always attended with a confcioufnefs of rectitude, beflow upon the mind an unfnaken intrepidity, when it engages in an undertaking ; an incxpreiTible joy, proceeding from the effufions of the heart, in the perfor-^ mance of the fubfequcnt adions ; and upon re- fledicn, the mod agreeable fatisfadion and fe{&. Moral Government of God. 113 approbation. The generous man, who has em- braced an opportunity of relieving the miferable from his diilrefies, and of raifmg him again to the participation of the enjoyments oi life ; the grate- ful man, who has performed a kind office to his benefador ; the patriot, who has executed a fcheme, that will be produclive of great advan- tage to his countrymen ; enjoy a fatisfadion in their own m.inds, compared with which, any de- light that arifes from external circumflances is contemptible. The fituations of the generality of men, do not furnifh them with frequent oppor- tunities of being very extenfively ufeful ; but every virtuous man will find abundance of occafions for performing actions, by which he will gain the applaufe of his own heart. It is true, indeed, that the exercife of kind af- fedions, even in the performance of the mod worthy a6tion?, may be accompanied with fome degree of uneafmefs. Sympathy and compalTion, are, from the nature of them, connected with certain fentations, that are not agreeable ; but the uneafy feeling, ferves only to interefl us more deeply in the welfare of thofe who need affiilance, and is entirely difregarded when the opportunity of being ferviceable prefents itfelf. So great are the pleafures that arife from the exercife of the focial virtues, that the opinion of thofe philo- fophers, w^ho maintain, that we do good to others only with a view to encreafe and multiply our il4 On the Jujl'ice and own enjoyments, is not without fome degree of plaufibility. From the performance of all fucli offices, there undoubtedly arifes much pleafure and fatisfadion ; though, if we refled upon the operations of our own minds when fuch adions are performed, we may eafily be convinced that they were not, in reality, under the influence of any felfiih motive. Vice, on the other hand, is the mod plentiful fource of mifery. The vicious man has nothing to fupport him againfl external calamities, if they Ihould attack him. Even though he Ihould avoid ficknefs, poverty, and reproach, he mufl be Hable to many diftreifes. Malice, envy, jealoufy, cove- toufnefs, and revenge, ufually lead to a multitude of hazardous enterprifes, and fometimes to fatal confequences ; and befides, they harafs the mind in which they refide, with fuch vexatious remem- brances, fuch imaginary fufpicions, and fuch fhock- ing refolutions, as mufl necelfarily render it a feat of mifery. Thefe ungenerous principles, where- ever they appear, likewife excite the indignation of every indifferent fpe6tator ; and induce him, even previoufly to any inquiry into the occafion by which they were excited, to declare againfl them as unfuitable to humanity. The man whofe adions are prompted by fuch depraved principles, whenever he reflecls upon his conduct, which he cannot always avoid, mufl endure feelings fimi- lar to thofe of the indifferent fpeclator. He mufl not only difapprove of himfeif, but he mufl lhud« Moral Government of God. 1 1 5 der at his ovvn intentions ; when, perhaps, the degenerate principle of allien has gained fuch force, and urges fo flrongly to its gratification, that it fpurns the dictates of reafon, and, with ir- refiftableimpetuofity, impels to the criminal adion. It is impoffible to defcribe the mifery of a mind that has loil the reins of its piiflions, now become uncontrolable from long indulgence, and difdain- ing every check from reafon and confcience. The vicious man cannot poflibly avoid uneafy reflections. While memory lafls, his guilty actions mufl occur to his thoughts, and confci- ence mufl pronounce its decifions concerning them. The foul is the tribunal of this impartial judge, where it brings under review every aclion and intention, and either approves of them or condemns them. Its condemnatory fentences are not left unexecuted. It raifes up a train of tor- menting thoughts, W'hich conflitute a punifhment of the fevereit kind. The criminal, who is brought before a human judgment-feat, may feel fome fort of refentment, excited by the force and violence that have been employed againll him, which may have fome tendency to fupport his fpirits, when the fentence is pronounced ; but the vici- ous man, who is left to his owm gloomy appre- henfions, has not even this wretched refource. The voice of confcience cannot be fupprelled. It cannot be rooted out, nor can its ftrength be much impaired. Its perceptions and judgments 1 1 6 On the Jufike and depend not upon us, but are altogether involun- tary. Diffipation of thought, in the hurry of bufmefs or of pleafure, may indeed, for a time, prevent its admonitions from being heard ; but more ferious hours will infallibly return. It never fails to fill the guilty foul with remorfe, a difeafe which no remedy can cure. In a mind filled with remorfe, there can be no repofe. Imagination is immediately roufed. Every crimi- nal ad that has been committed, with all its aggra- vating circumflances, is again brought into view. Even fympathy and compaffion, principles in- tended to alleviate human mifery, when excited in his mind by the fufPerings of thofe whom he has injured and diflrelTed, join, with a fenfe of guilt, to torment him. All the faculties of his foul, however difcordant in other refpefts, con- fpire in upbraiding him with his guilt, and in aug- menting his fufferings. As if ail this were not enough, the images of his ov/n fancy become his tormentors. He feels a fecret dread and horror, occafioned, he knov^'s not by what. His fleep is difturbed by terrifying dreams ; and even when awake, he is alarmed with fpedres. A more dreadful tormentor than an accufmg confcience, joined by its ufual attendant, a difturbed imagi-. nation, cannot be conceived. From all thefeobferva- ions, and many of a fmiilar nature that might eafily be produced, it is evident, that it is the natural tendency of virtue to produce happinefs, and of vice to render men miferable. It; Moral Government of God, 1 1 7 i'3 not pretended, that pleafure and pain do not arife from other fources befides thefe ; but virtue and vice are fources from which they uniformly fpring. There are particular enjoyments which arife from the practice of every virtue ; and there are certain happy confequences, that originate from good and upright conducl, and appear at lafl, though they do not immediately flow from it. The happy effe£ls of well-doing, are manifeft in the ordinary courfe of human life. They are not unknown, even in the houfe of afflidion ; in the midil of diflrefs, they adminifler confolation. The practice of virtue procures the love and edeem, and truft of mankind ; while vice is the object of hatred and averfion. Even in the funfliine of profperitV; the delight that does not fpring from goodnefs, is unfubftantial and tranfitory. A man who has been fuccefsful in promoting human happinefs, has copious (lores of delight laid up ; and even though his labours have not attained their end, he enjoys much fatisfaclion upon reflection, from the confcioufnefs that he has performed his duty. The cruel and unjuil are, on the contrary, torment- ed with fear and fufpicion, while they are purfu- ing the dictates of reientment and avarice with fuccefs. They know that their actions are the objects of jufl deteilation; and knowing their con- fequences, they tremble left they fhoiiid be dif. covered. To forfeit the efteem of the world is a dreadful calamity ; but it is not the word effect of vice, for vice alio ruins all internal Dcace and nS On the Jitfuce and enjoyment. There can be no greater mifery than the difapprobation of a man's own confcience. To this inward comforter, a man might fly for con- folationfrom the injurious treatment of the world. But what refuge has that man who is not at peace with himfelf ? Who can fpeak peace unto him, when a difturbed imagination, roufed by a fenfe of guilt, continually prefents dreadful forms to difturb his repofe ? The hurry of diffipation may, for a fhort time, prevent ferious reflection ; but anguifh and difmay will foon return with re- doubled force. He may rejoice for a while, in the fun-fliine of fuccefs ; but a dark night of mifery is fafl: approaching. All thefe regular confequences, of virtuous and Ticious conduft, did not fpring from the hand of chance or neceffity, or any other blind indifcrimi- nating caufe. They afford a clear and difcind evi- dence, that the Author of Nature is not indiffe- rent to our conduct. III. This diftribution of rewards and puniiliments, as the natural confequence of virtue and vice, is a clear proof that there is a moral ad- miniftration efliabliflied in the world. There is evidently a regular connexion kept up, v/hich mufl proceed from intelligence and defign. There IS no neceffary connection between virtue and happinefs. The one might have exiffed with- out the ether. Since, then, the cue is adapted to Moral Government of God. 1 1 9 tlie other, and always produces it, the conjundion mufl be eftabHfhed by a free and voluntary Caufe, who intended that it fhould regularly take place. Moreover, thefe pleafures and pains w^hich arc alTociated with virtue and vice, though they arife in the way of natural confequence, from particu- lar courfes of behaviour, are to be confidered as fandions of a law in the flriclefl fenfe. The knowledge of right and wrong, which we poflefs, w'as certainly intended to be a law unto us. It was given us to afford us rules for the direction of our condud. It is not of an arbi- trary and uncertain nature ; but it is the fame in all ages and nations of the world. The appro- bation and difapprobation, united with our beha- viour, is pronounced by means of our confciences. They ad as judges in our hearts, and their de- terminations are alfo invariable. They were, therefore, certainly implanted within us, to exe- cute that judicative office w^hich they really per- form. Every pleafure, then, that attends the practice of virtue, and every degree of uneafmefs with which the practice of vice is attended, may be confidered in the. fame light, as if it were an exprefs declaration from the Author of our Nature, in favour of integrity, and a public avowal of his deteflation at all manner of iniquity. The man of true worth, may juftly regard all the agreeabb confequences that have arifen from his upright life, as bleffings immediately flowing from the r20 On the Jiiftkc and hand of God : And the man who has done what is wrong, may confider the mifery which he has brought upon himfelf, as a punifhment inili<5led by the appointment of a judge. We are not to imagine that thefe diflindions have arifen from mere chance. The eye of wifdom will always confider them as fpringing from the intentions and providence of an over-ruling Governor. They are as much the effeds of the Divine determin- ation, as if they immediately followed a folemn fentence of approbation or difapprobation, audibly pronounced againfl every particular offence, be- fore all mankind. Every thing in the hiftory of providence, tends to exhibit, in a clear light, the love of God to the upright, and his abhorrence of every thing that is vicious. Thefe refledions feem clearly to afcertain the fad, that a moral government is eftablilhed in the world ; and thefe fame refieftions feem to afford no inconfiderable proof, that the fame go- vernment is much more extenfive than any thing we have an opportunity of obferving. 1 formerly confidered the argument for a future flate, upon the fuppofition that there is no governing provi- dence ; and endeavoured to fliew. from the ana- logy of nature, and from the confiitution of the human mind, that even though the hypothefis of atheifm were true, the probability is, that we would exifl alter our fepar:.tion from the body.* * This is l!;e ia-:'Q^ of a Difco-i^fe, not now cfFered tq the public. Moral Government of God. lit The foul Is not made up of parts that can be fepa- rated, as thofe of the body may. It is not necef- farily connected with our prefent bodies, for they are perpetually changing ; nor have we reafon to believe that it has any neceffary connexion with body at all. The change we are to undergo at death, does not feem more ftrange than the changes of many inferior animals, nor even more ftrange than the alteration of the mode of our own exiflence, when we come into the world. Still further, fuppofmg v/e are to furvive the diflb- lution of the body, the prefumption is, that in our future ftate, virtue will produce happinefs, and vice mifery, even independently of moral govern- ment. The rule is eflablilhed here, and there- fore analogy leads us to believe, that it will alfo be eftablifhed hereafter. Thcfe analogies, how- ever, it mud be admitted, only afford prefump- tions of what may be the cafe, and do not furnifh us with any pofitive and direct proof of what will be the cafe.* But after we are convinced, that the world is under the moral adminiftration of a wife and good Being, new light breaks in upon us. We fee evi- dent proofs, that we are here in a flate of growth and improvement. Our riiinds, as well as our bodies, are at firfl much weaker and more imper- fed: than they afterwards become. We are train- ed up for difcharging the offices of maturer life, H * Butler. 12 2 On the yujiice and by the care of parents, guardians, and inflruclors. We undergo the labours of a ftate of difcipiine and probation, before we are admitted to perform the offices required of us as members of civil fociety ; and without undergoing thefe, we could not be qualified for the offices which we are after- wards called upon to difcharge. The whole of our lives in this world, feems to (land in the lame relation to a higher ftate of exiftence, that our childhood does to manhood. We are put into a fituation, where we are daily acquiring new habits, or (Irengthening old ones ; and where we have many opportunities of making improvement. Every thing has an appearance as if we were in- tended for another jRiate, in which we may have occafion for thofe attainments of knowledge and virtue w^hich we have made ; and which we find it incumbent upon us, as a matter of duty, to make, while we are here. If, then, we are placed luider a wife and good moral government, we have furely reafon to expect^, that this plan which is begun, will be carried on ; and that wfe will be placed in a fituation, where we (hall have oppor- tunities to exert the powers which we have im- proved, and to enjoy the effeds of thofe habits which we have formed. Accordingly, this ex- pedation has been formed in all ages. Men have always difcovered a longing after immortality, and have believed, that they would hereafter be put into a ilate, where they were to enjoy the fruits of their condu£l. There is every reafon to think, that this ilate is only the beginning of our exifl- Moral Covermnent of God, 123 ence ; and that we were only placed here, in order to acquire thofe habits and principles which we ihall have occafion to exert, and to carry for- ward to perfection, in another world. From the nature of the moral government, which we evidently fee eftablifhed in the world at prefent, we have ftrong reafons to believe that our anticipations of futurity are well founded. Virtue certainly enjoys the favour of God at pre- fent, for it is rewarded by him in the ordinary courfe of his adminiflration, while vice is in general punifhed. Now, it cannot eafily be ima- gined, that the goodnefs of the Ruler of the World, will at once relinquifti for ever, thofe righteous minds, which were of late the objects of his peculiar regard. It is furely much more probable, after he has trained them up, in the courfe of his providence, to degrees of excel- lence far fuperior to thofe which they once pof- felfed, that he will not deflroy them, but will preferve them in exiftence, and give them new opportunities of improving themfelves more and more, in the habits of wifdom and of goodnefs. It feems highly probable, that this would be the cafe, even upon the fuppofition, that virtue is fully and invariably rewarded in the prefent ftate, and that vice is unalterably and. unexceptionably punifhed. But the moral adminiflration ef the H 2 124 ^^ -^^^ ynfti^^ ^^d Supreme Being, though it is evidently eflablifhed and is carrying on, is not yet brought to perfec- tion. Our prefent is, evidently, not a ftate of final retribution, but of trial and difcipline, fubordinate to another flate that is future. Though happinefs be conne&d with virtue, and mifery with vice ; yet it does not appear, that en- joyments and fufFerings, are fo exa£tly, and fo invariably, proportioned to merit and demerit, as might be expelled from the diftributive juflice of an All- wife Adminiftrator ; upon the fuppofi- tion that this were a ftate of full and equal retri- bution. There is reafon to believe, that the good- nefs of fome, from their fituation among un- worthy men, though it produced fatisfadtion to themfelves, yet,, indiredly, expofed them alfa to trouble and vexation ; while, on the contrary, inany vicious perfons have palTed their lives in the enjoyment of external tranquillity. Their pleafures and th^ir fufFerings may, indeed, have been more exadly proportioned to their merits and demerits, than could be known to us, who only perceive what pafTes outwardly. The happinefs of the one, and the mifery of the other„ have not been evident to the world : Whereas, according to our apprehenfions of equitable and wife adminift ration, the good fliould be rewarded in the fight of all, and enor- mous vice fhould be openly and declaredly punifhed. Such confiderations naturally lead us to conclude, that a time remains, in the fchemes of Divine Wifdom? when indiicrirainating juftice will finall]f Moral Government cf God* 125 and completely reward the upright, and punifli the guilty. Irregularities, arifing from the per^ verfity of men, are at prefent, for wife reafons, permitted in the Divine Government. But from this circumftance, we have reafon to exped, that a period is approaching, when thefe fhall be fully removed, and every man fhall receive a jufl and equitable recompenfe. The prefent plan of the Divine Government renders this expedation more (Irong and better founded, than it would have been upon any other fuppofition. If there had been no tendency in virtue to produce hap- pinefs, nor in vice to produce mifery at prefent, we could not have had any certainty that there is a moral adminiftration eflablifhed \ and from obferving the prefent courfe of things, and feeing that virtue and happinefs were perfectly difunited, we would have been apt, from analogy, to con- clude, that they would always be difunited, and that there would be no (late of retribution. Per- ceiving no reafon to beheve that God is jufl, wc could not, on fuch a fuppofition, be led to con- clude, that he would fome time or other act as a juft and impartial judge. If, on the contrary, virtue had been always fully and invariably re- warded in this Hate of things, and vice, in like nian- ner, fully and invariably punifhed ; if happinefs and virtue, vice and mifery, had been uniformly united, and never been feparated ; we might have been much more uncertain of a future (late, than we are at prefent. Such a flate would be a per-^ H3 126 On the Jajtlee and fed ftate, and we could perceive no end that could be ferved by any alteration in it. If men, there- fore, died under fuch a difpenfation ; or, in other words, went out of that ftate ; we might be apt to think they had fully received their reward, and were never more to exift. There is, however, another view of the matter, even upon this fuppofition, that would ftill leave the queftion in fufpenfe ; for if God be good and juft, it cannot be believed, that he would exter- minate from exiftence, thofe whom he had already countenanced and rewarded : And therefore, if he took them away from their prefent condition, it mult be to anfwer fome good ends to them ; and fmce they were happy here, the only end he could have in view, would be to render them flill happier in another ftate. The government, however, that is in fa£i: eftablifhed, in which we fee clear and ma^ifeft marks of a moral admini- stration of juftice and equity, but intermixed with certain irregularities and exceptions, fur- nifhes us with an argument in favour of a future ftate of exiftence, m.uch more convincing than any that could be fuggefted by an adminiftration ap- parently more perfedt and impartial. It leads us to confider ourfelves as only in the beginning of pur exificnce, in a ftate of trial and of difcipline ; and it neceffarily direds our views to another, con- siefted with and founded upon it, which will bQ a ftaie of final retribution* Moral Government of God. 127 In order to form any juft notions concerning the moral adminiftration of the Supreme Being, we mufl confider the prefent and future flates in connection with each other. In the prefent, though the tendency of virtue be to produce happinefs, and of vice to produce mifery ; yet the union does not always take place in effect. But if we confider this flate as only one flage of our exiftence, any appearances of irregularity and diforder, which might otherwife alarm us, im- mediately vaniih. The prefent fhort flate of our exiftence becomes as nothing, when compared with an immortal life. Since, then, the laws of diftrlbutive juftice are ellablifhed in the world ; fince a plan is carrying on, in confequence of which, virtue is rewarded and vice punifhed, even here ; and fmce we have good reafon to believe, that the fame plan will hereafter be more perfectly executed than it is at prefent, and that the virtuous fhall at laft be Tendered completely happy ; we conclude, upon the beft grounds, that God is ju(L H4 DISCOURSE V, Of Evils and their Causes^ and of the Stste^s refpecting thenu I. THERE IS, undoubtedly, evil In the world, Some beings are very imperfefl: ; they want power, and are deficient in their original conflru6:ion. There are many misfortunes and accidents to which men are liable ; a number of which, they are neither able to forefee nor prevent. There is much vice in the world, and it uniformly conduds mifery in its train. If God be good, and juft, and holy, why are thefe evils to be met with in his works ? Did he want power to prevent, or wifdom to forefee them ? None of thefe luppofitions can be admitted. He who laid down the laws by which the unlverfe is go-» verned, undoubtedly knew what was to be thq confequences of them \ and he could have ordered Of Evils and their Caufe^. 129 things in any other way that feemed good to him.^ Are we, then, to fuppofe, that God is not bene- volent, or is not juft ? We have good reafon ta reje£t both thefe fuppofitions. There is more happinefs than mifery in the world. The quan- tity of the one is immenfely fuperior to that of the other. God mufl therefore be good. There is a moral government eflablifhed among man- kind, for virtue is rewarded, and vice punifhed, though not completely, yet in a great meafure. The Ruler of the Univerfe mufl therefore be juft. Whence, then, does evil arife ? By what means was it fcattered through the works of God ? The queftion is difficult. It has perplexed men, who believed in the unity of the Deity, through all ages ; and has furnilhed thofe, who wifhed for a pretence to throw off the belief of a fuper- intending providence, with plaufible objedions againft it. Hence, men of fpeculation have been induced to form certain fyftems and theories, agree- ably to which they imagined the world is governed, and according to which they fancied that evil might be accounted for. Before we proceed to any confideration of this fubject, there are two remarks which ought to be made, and carried along with us. In the firft place, the nature of the government exer- cifed over the world, may naturally be expeded to i^fO Of Evils and ibeir Cau/es. be, in many refpe£ls, incomprehenfible by us. It is t>ut a fmall part of the univerfe, with which we have any opportunity of being acquainted. Even in that fmall part of it, with which we are befl ac- quainted, there are few things which we know, in comparifon of thofe which we do not know. We are not acquainted with the effence of any one thing upon the face of the earth. We do not know any thing of the fubftance of thofe bodies, which we have an opportunity of perceiving every day. We do not even know the fubftance of our own minds. We perceive certain qualities and relations, and from thefe we infer fubilances to which they belong. Even with refped to the re- lations that fubfifl among various fubilances, we are very much in the dark. We know, that there are connexions which take place ; we are able to point out a great number of them ; and every day's experience difcovers more of them, and enlarges the fphere of human knowledge. We fee clear- ly, that certain connections, relations, and de- pendencies, take place, through a great part of the univerfe, becaufe they have been traced out and explained. We know, that all the bodies of the folar fyllem, refped: and depend upon one another. We know, that the whole of the planets have a dependency upon the fun ; that the moon has a fmiilar relation to this earth. We know alfo, that relations and dependencies of the fame fort extend to a much greater diflance ; for Saturn, which revolves round the fun, in a pe- Of Evils and their Caufcs^ 131 riod rather lefs than thirty years, does not perform his revolution always in equal times. When he hap- pens, in his courfe, to approach the body of Jupiter, he is attracted towards, while near him ; and, in confeqence of his gravitation towards that planet, he is impeded in his courfe, and finifhes it in one revolution, , twelve days fooner than in another. Though we fee a fyftem of relations ex- tending to fuch an immenfe dillance, yet we find ourfelves entirely at a lofs to account for thofe, Avhich w^e obferve every day. We can affign no caufe why the magnet attrads iron — why water freezes — ^why the vibration of a firing produces found — why the image upon the retina of the eye occafions vifion — w^hy the particles in a bar of fleel adhere to one another — ^w^hy fire burns, or why light moves in a flraight line. There is not a fmgle efficient caufe that can be aifigned in the whole fyflem of nature. We can trace cer- tain rules, by which things are connected ; but as to caufes, we are perfectly in the dark. There are relations which we obferve every day ; that, for inilance, between foul and body, of which we knov/ abfolutely nothing. There are mechanical, hydrauHcal, pneumatical, and optical operations, going on in our bodies every moment, without our confcioufnefs ; and had it not been for philo- fophical inquiry, we fliould not have knov/n that we performed them. New difcoveries are con- tinually making in the w^orks of nature ; and the whole of thefe, if v/e except a few defcriptions of t^Z 0/ Evils and their Caufes, linknown fubflances, are difcoveries of relations, connections, and dependencies. The greater part of thofe difcoveries that have been lately made, relate to objeds with which we are every day converfant, and about which, it might be expec- ted, we fhould have known moft. Since, then, we fee relations fubfifting every where, and fmce every day's obfervation brings to view fome that were not formerly difcovered ; furely we ought to believe, that the whole fyftem of the. Divine Government is not known to us 5 and that we have all the reafon in the world to think, that it exceeds the comprehenfion of weak and imperfed creatures. Though, therefore, we be not able to explain every difficulty that may occur, we ought not to conclude that there is any imperfedion in the workmanfliip. The jnicrofcopic eye of an infecl, may difcover many inequalities on the befl poliflied wheel ; yet that part of the machine anfwers very well the part of the machine to which it belongs, and any further polifh would be fuperfluous. To an underftanding able to comprehend the whole flrudure, thefe irregularities entirely difappear. Since, then, we know very little of the works of God, we ought to be very cautious in charging any thing as an imperfedion, before we know all its relations and dependencies. It may ferve ufe- ful purpofes, though we cannot difcern them. The general argument, from the fuperabundance of happinefs in the univerfe, ought to be relied Of Evils and their Caufes, 133 upon ; and if objections occur that cannot be anfwered, we ought not to be ftartled by them ; as we know that the Divine plans are not com- prehenfible by us, and that there may be good reafons for a multitude of things which we do not know. In the fecond place, it ought to be remark- ed, that though God is the Author and Go- vernor of the world ; yet there are in it many evils, which are evidently not to be afcribed to him. Though God created all the a6live beings in the univerfe, and conferred upon them thofe powers of adion which they poffefs and exercife \ yet the evil confequences, that may fometimes arife from the ufe of thefe powers, are not im- putable to him who conferred them. We mud, therefore, diflinguifh fairly between the actions of God and the actions of inferior creatures, that we may not blame the character, of our Creator, for the blemifhes of our own behaviour. Though God has given to man a certain ex- tent of power, and has granted him liberty to make ufe of that power ; yet the evil confequences that may fometimes arife, from the abufe of human power and liberty, are not chargeable on God. Thofe actions, which proceed from the exercife of our powers, muft either be our own, or they mud be the actions of the Author of our Nature. In the production of the fame adion, there cannot be two agents. There are, indeed, certain crimes, in which fever al perfons '^3^ Of Evils mtd their Caufes. may be concerned, and all of them may be guilty; as there are many good performances, to which a number of perfons may have con- tributed, and from which all of them may derive praife. But in all fuch cafes, the action is of a complex kind, fo as to admit of feveral agents, each of them performing his own part. Thofe actions, however, which proceed from our volitions, cannot be ihe a6lions of our Creator, if we be agents at all. If all our adions be performed by us, indeed, without any volition of ours, then thefe adions could, in no refped, be called ours. On fuch a fuppofition, we would be mere ma- chines, v/ithout power ; and would have no more merit or demerit, from the performance of thofe things to which we are inflrumental, than a wea- pon, or any piece of matter has, that is moved by an adive caufe. But we are fenfible that God has granted us powers, and that he permits us to make ufe of them. The a(5lions, therefore, that proceed from the exercife of thofe powers, muil be afcribed to us. — Human action may, indeed, be influenced by the Deity. As he beftowed upon us minds at firft, fo he may ftill, on many occafions, direct them in ways that are inexplicable by us. But when we perform anions that are contrary to his will, and are violations of the law which he has written on our hearts, we are cer- tain that our minds are not guided by the influ- ence of his power and authority ; and thefe vici- ous a<5tions muft be charged to our account.—^ Of Evils and their Caufes, 135 The notions of the fchoolmen, that God concurs with human adions, arife from fpeculations be- yond our depth. Many of thefe fubtile diilinguifh- ers, were incKned to reprefent God as the only agent in the univerfe, and to afcribe to his power, as the immediate caufe, all the adions of men. As this opinion took away all merit from man- kind, fo it aifo took away all demerit ^ for if men WTre not agents, they were not chargeable with their guilt, any more than with their good adions. The conclufion naturally arifmg from this no- tion, to wit, that God is the author of fm, was juilly looked upon as odious, and inadmilTible. Hence, difdnctions of the mofl fubtile kind, were invented to fave appearances ; and one of thefe diflinctions was, that God is the author of evil actions, as far as they depend on phyfical caufes, or as far as body is concerned in them ; but that man is author of them in a moral light, and there- fore the guilt is imputable to him only. Such fpeculations as thefe are far above the reach of the human powers, and can anfwer no good purpofe whatever. If they were intended, as it is to be believed they were ; to promote the pur- pofes of piety, and to encourage graaiude to the Maker of the world ; that end is much more efFeftually anfv/ered without them, and with much lefs embarraifment. If we acknowledge, that all our powers, and ail our opportunities, for the exercife of them, are derived from God, we cer- tainly afcribe to him, as the original caufe, all the 13^ Of Evils and their Caiifes* merit which we poflefs ; and we attribute to oui*- felves, and not to him, thofe adions which have proceeded from the abufe of our hberty, and the mifimprovement of our faculties and oppor- tunities. II. What actions, then, ought we to afcribe to God ? It is evident, in the firfl place, that we mufl afcribe to him the formation of the material world, in all its parts. We mull afcribe to him all its motions and revolutions, for it was he who eftablilhed the laws by which they are per- formed ; and every change obfervable in the ma- terial fyftem, either proceeds immediately from him, or arifes from powers which he has delegated to inferior agents. Matter has no power, and confe- quently there is no phyfical caufe properly fo cal- led. Thofe relations of bodies to one another, which are commonly called caufes, are not really caufes ; but are only general laws, according to which, the almighty living and moving Caufe of all, regulates and governs his workmanfhip. Mat- ter, therefore, its laws, its changes, and its pro- ductions, are all to be afcribed to the will and power of God. In the fecond place, we mufl afcribe to God, our own conftitution, both of mind and body, and the conftitution of every other created adive being. It is by the power of God, and not by ours, that our bodies are fupported, and that the Of Evils arid their Qaiifes 1 37 involuntary motions, on which their welfare de- pends, are continued. The feveral principles of adion in our frame, our inftinds, our appetites, defires and averfions, affections and paffions, were alfo implanted by him. All our capacities to do .good, proceeded from him ; and alfo, our frail- ties and imperfedlions, fo far as they are natu- ral to us, arife from his will ; but we muft not afcribe to him thofe imperfections, which have originated from our own negligence or mifcon« dua. In the third place, we mufl afcribe to him our fituation in the world ; the accommodation bounti- fully made for us in it ; our opportunities of en- joying fociety, and our fecurity from the enjoy- ment of law and government. We mufl alfo believe, that the inconveniencies attending our lot and condition in this world, in as far as they are natural, and inevitable by human prudence, arofe from his will. But we mufl, by no means, at- tribute to him thofe inconveniencies which we have brought upon ourfelves# Thefe obfervations being premifed, I fhall pro« cced to enumerate the feveral kinds of evil that have been remarked in the world ; and en- deavour to fhew, that they are not inconfiflent' "with the adminiftration of a good and righteous God. 138 Of Evils and their Caufes. The evils m the world, that have been the fuB*- jed of complainty. are of three kinds ; and it is al- lowed, that all of them exrft, though not in the degree that they are often reprefented. In the fii:il place, there are evils of imperfe£lion, as they are called. Man, and all inferior animals,, are of a limited nature. Their powers are weak, their knowledge is fmall ; they are the natural heirs of manifold frailties and defeats. In the fecond place, vv'e obferve in the world many natural or phyfical evils. Every creature is not happy. We are ^xpofed to bodily pain, from many caufes ; we are fubjecl to difeafes ; we undergo many fuiferings anddifafters \ we are all fubjea to death. In the third place, we have many orccafions to obferve the prevalence of moral evil. Men are guilty of crimes, in their intercourfe with one another. They frequently are guilty of fraud, in- jury, and opprefTion. They are led by violent paf-> fions, by refentment, avarice, and ambition. They often deluge the earths with blood and mifery.' Is it Gonfiftent with our notions of a good ad- miniftration, that thefe evils Ihould be permitted to exift ? Or are they of fuch a nature, as not to be inconfiflent with the government of a good: God ?r— The firil clafs of evils mentianed^ com- Of Evils and their Caufes^ 139 prehends the evils of imperfedion, as they are called. Why is not man made more perfedt than than he is ? And why are there many orders of beings inferior to man ? This objedion, in reality, amounts to nothing at all. The queilion con- cerning the defeds of inferior beings, is no more than a queftion concerning the propriety of crea- ting any being at all ; for every created being muil, of neceflity, be in fome meafure imperfed. Every being that is created, muft be dependent ;. and however exalted its faculties, it muft be in- ferior to its independent Creator. If the quef- tion, therefore, be propofed, in its utmoft extent, it muft mean, Why did not God create every in- telligent being, equal to himfelf ? But in this ex- tent, it is altogether abfurd, and contradictory to the nature of things ; and if it be taken in a lef^ extent, the intention of it is not very evident. If the queftion only be, Why are not human per- fections greater than they are ? and, why are not our frailties and defeds fewer ? It is to be re- marked, that this queftion muft, at laft, run into the former ; for ftill it might be afked with equal propriety, though we had been formed equal ta the higheft order of angels. On this laft fup- pofition, indeed, we would certainly have been free from many imperfedions, to which we are at prefent fubjed ; but yet we would not have been free from every imperfedtion. We would ftill have tieen dependent creatures, and limited both in pov/er and knowledge. Still, t-herefore, I 3 I4€' Of Evils and their Caufes. the complaint of our imperfedion might have been made, with precifely the fame degree of force with which it is made at prefent. If the objec- tion, therefore, mean any thing at all, the queftion mufl be. Why were not all creatures endowed with powers and faculties, equal to the higheft t)rder of created fpirits ? or, which amounts to the fame thing. Why were there different orders of beings originally formed ? We can eafily fup- pofe the cafe, that no fpirits fhould have been created, except thofe of the higheft order, which at prefent fubfifts among dependent fpirits. But furely, no man will pretend that he knows fo fo much, as to pronounce, on fuch a fuppofi- tion, that every thing would have been better con- ftituted than it is at prefent ; or that more hap- pinefs in the world would have been enjoyed, than at prefent fubfifts. We can form the fup- pofition, that God fhould never have imparted exiftence to any being ; and upon that fuppofi- tion, there would have been no imperfedion ad- hering to any being. But if that had been the cafe. Divine Benevolence would never have been exert- ed. If only the highefl order of created fpirits had been formed, there would, in all probabi- lity, have been much lefs bounty diffufed through the world, than there is at prefent. There may have been many reafons manifeft to Infinite Wif- dom, for the creation of various orders of inferior beings, which we are not able to comprehend* The inferior orders may be neceffary for the fuh.- Of Evils and their Caufes. 141 fiftence or the improvement of the fuperlor, and may be neceflary to the welfare of the whole fyftem. For ought we know to the contrary, fubordination of ranks may ferve equally good purpofes in the government of the univerfe, as it does in crvil government among men. We know its ufes in human life ; we fee it eftabliihed in the fyflem of the univerfe ; and we may fafely con- clude, that it is not without wife intention in the one, more than in the other. We fee a beauti- ful gradation in the fcale of beings, as it is con- ftituted at prefent. It bears evident marks of wifdom and goodnefs ; and it would ill become man, when complaining of his ov/n imperfedions, to pretend, that he could point out a method, in which more wifdom and goodnefs might be dif- played. The gradation among the orders of being, appears to be every where regular. Some parts of inanimate matter are unorganized, and without any regular form or ftru£lure. Other parts of it are arranged in beautiful figures, fome of which approach to the regularity of the inferior clafTes of plants. Among vegetables, there is none that has not an organized ftructure ; but fome of them rife not far above the regularity of chryflalization, and other forms aifumed by organized matter. The fever al tribes rife above one another, by in- fenfible degrees. Some of them appear in great elegance ; and in many of their properties, fo much refemble animals, that fome naturalifts have jiot hefitated, though not with perfect propriety^ to afcribe to them life. 13 J43 Of Evils and their Caufes. All thefe vegetable tribes depend upon inani- mate matter for their fupport and fuflenance. The vegetable and animal kingdoms are con- neded, by certain tribes of beings, that feem al- mofl equally linked with both : They grow as plants ; but are, in reality, the receptacles and dwellings of imperfect animals ; and it is only of late, that their dependence or connexion with the animal kingdom has been fully afcertained. The various orders of animals, rife in wonderful progreffion above one another. Many of the lower tribes feem hardly to be pofTelTed of life and fenfation \ they have very Httle animal mo- tion, and the flrudure of their bodies is exceed? ingly fmiple. They gradually rife to higher der grees of adivity and fenfibility, in the various tribes of infeds. The tribes of filhes form the ioweft clafs of larger and more perfed animals 5 and even among them there is a gradation. They are conneded with the animals that live on air, by an amrhibious race, having cold blood like them ; but refembling the higher claffes in other parti- culars of their ftru6lure, and in their general way of hfe. This divifion comprehends the ferpent, the hzard, and the frog. To thefe fucceed the various races of birds, whofe organs of percep- tion and of fenfation, are more perfed than in the inferior tribes ; and who difcover inflances of fagacity, which, though they really arife fron^ inftind, bear a wonderful refemblance to reafon ^nd intelligence. Quadrupeds are ilill a more Vf Evils and their Caufes, 143 •pBTfe£i: clafs than any of the former. They pof- fefs various meafures of perfedion ; but foine of them have no fmall degree of docility and dex- terity ; they are capable of acquiring habits, and of being trained up to various employments. At the head of the fcale in this world, is Man, a -fpecies dillinguifhed by reafon, but enjoying this higher power in a wonderful diverfity of de- crees. The lower part of the fpecies is not greatly fuperior in intelligence, to the mofl faga- cious of the animal tribes ; while the higher part of it poffefs a mofl eminent and diflinguiihed rank in the creation, v/hen compared with the t)ther inhabitants of this earth. In all this long feries, there is no gap, nor large interval. Every part feems completely filled up. Reafon does not ^ondu£t us any further in completing the fcale \ but analogy leads us to conclude, that there are •created beings fuperior to man, rifmg above each other by infenfible gradations, in the fame manner with the tribes below him ; and that the fame law is continued to the highefl created in- telligence, without any interval. As the vegetable kingdom is fupported by the fofiil, fo animals are fupported by both. Every leaf that grows has its in fed appropriated to it, that feeds upon it ; the whole air is peopled with infeds ; and every drop of water fwarms with in- habitants, frequently too fmall to be feen with the naked eye. 14 144 Of Evils and their Caufes, Every part of the creation abounds with life and aftion. Among thefe animals, there are many which feem abfolutely neceffary for the fupport of others, and are, accordingly, their daily food. Reduce one clafs of them into nour exiflence, and fome other clafTes will follow them of courfe ; and the anihilation of the fecond will prove the deftrudion of a third fpecies. Every tribe is connected with another, and depends upon it ; and without the fubordination which we behold, the world, at lead in its prefent form, could not fubfift, If it be alked, whether all thofe orders of be^ ings might not have been made more perfed: than they are ? We muft anfwer, that we do not know if it was pofTibic, without greatly diminiih- ing the fum of happinefs diffufed through the world. There may already be as many of the more perfedl creatures as there is room for ; and yet there may be room for many clalTes of inferior orders, and even occafion for them, fo as to pro- mote the higheft improvement and felicity of the higher orders. We fee one tribe neceifary for the fuflenance of another, among inferior creatures ; and we do not know how far the concatenation may take place, even among thofe of a fuperior rank. Though they do not furnifh them with the neceflaries of life, they may be of ufe to thern in many other refpeds. We know too little of the Of Evils and their Caufes. 145 ^niverfe, to be able to forin any tolerable judg- ment concerning the fubferviency and connexions that run through the whole of it. Granting the neceiTity for beings of an inferior order, it may be afked, if they could not be fupported without preying upon one another ? Might they not be fed by fome kinds of organized matter, or by the production of a greater quantity of vegetables than there is at prefent ? Perhaps this might be poflible, though we know too little of animal life, to be able to pronounce that it is. But though it be poflible, we cannot from this infer with certainty, that the happinefs of the univerfe would be greater than it is at prefent. On the contrary, we know that it would be lefs. Thofe tribes of animals that were formed to be the prey of others, enjoy happinefs, though of an imperfect nature, during the time they exifl. Inanimate matter, or vegetables, if made to fupply their place, would enjoy none. All the imperfect hap- pinefs they enjoy during their hves, is adlually pofTeiTed in confequence of the conftitution of things at prefent eflablifhed, and would not be enjoyed upon the other fuppofition. They fre- quently become the prey of other animals ; but they are diftrefled with no fears of futurity ; they do not forefee their danger ; they enjoy ail the plea- fure their natures are capable of, till the end of their exiftence. If they had human underfland- ing, and human pafFions, they would be miferable, from receding on their fituation j but they are 14^ Of Evils and their Caufe^, fo formed, that they are not afflided with any anticipation of mifery. IIL The fecond clafs of evils, which have been re-- prefented as inconfiftent with the adminiflration of a good God, are natural evils ; or pain and diftrefs in their various forms. It has been main- tained, that if the Governor of the world were benevolent, there would be no uneafmefs to be obferved in any part of his works. Every crea- ture he formed, would enjoy uninterrupted felicity, if we allow, that he had power to render every being happy, why has he not done it ? Muft we conclude, that he wanted inclination to render them happy ? Does he delight in their mifery ? And did he form them to load them wdth pain ? Thefe queftions were aiked in the days of Epi- curus, and they are dill repeated by thofe who are unwilling to acknowledge the exiftence of a Supreme Mind. In anfwer to fuch queftions, it may, firft of all, be obferved, that human abilities are too imper- fe£l to inveitigate the fole end which the Deity had in view, when he created the world. It may have been nothing elfe but the defire of commu- nicating happinefs, for ought we know to the contrary ; notwithftanding the inftances of evil ^bich occur. We are incompetent judges of the Of Evils and their Caufes, i4y manner In which the greateft poffible happinefs may be communicated ; and, perhaps, it may be impofTible to communicate it, without an inter- mixture of evils affecting individuals. The fuffer- ings of particular perfons may be neceffary, to produce the greateil fum of felicity upon the whole. There have been fome, who have em- braced this opinion, and maintained it ; though it is evidently beyond the fphere of our know- ledge. If benevolence mean nothing more than a defire of rendering every perfon happy, it is a blind indifcriminating principle, and mud not be afcribed to the Deity, as the fole end of his adions ; though the adverfaries of religion choofe to under- ftand it in this light. If fuch indifcriminating be- nevolence, had been the fole principle of adion in the Divine Mind, there could not have been any evils in the world. Accordingly, it is not in this fenfe that we underfland goodnefs, when we fay, that it was the principle from which God acted. Mere benevolence in the Deity, would make no diflindion between good and bad men ; it would favour them equally, in order to make the fum of happinefs the greateil poffible upon the whole. But all who believe in the being of God, and ferioufly reflect upon his character, under- fland his goodnefs, as connected with juftice, ve- racity, and fidelity. They confider God as ex- ercifmg, not only a natural, but a moral govern- ment. In his natural government, he pays no .attention to the charaders of men. The light X4S Of Evils and their Caufes. • * ' and rain of heaven defcend equally upon the jufl and the unjuft. All the revolutions of nature affe6t men indifcriminately. The good are not fee u red from danger, nor from the inclemency of the ikies, any more than the bad. It is not in this part of the Divine Government, that juflice and truth appear, becaufe they are not proper objeds for them ; as inadive matter is incapable of being re- warded or punifhed, of receiving a promife, or acknow^ledging an obligation. Beings merely fen- tient, without the knowledge of right and wrong, and without any moral powers, are, in this ref- pe£l, on the fame footing with inanimate matter. They may enjoy pleafure, or fuffer pain ; but they muft, indifcriminately, be liable to thefe fen- fations, and cannot be fubjeded to them as rewards and punifhments. It is in the moral adminiflration of God, in that courfe of his dif- penfations in which he treats us as moral agents, .deferving praife or blame for our condud, that the juitice and fidelity of God are manifeft. When we confider him as an upright Gover- nor, we perceive that he does not beflow happi- nefs indifcriminately ; but that he confers more ample fliares of it, upon the righteous, than upon the wicked. We muft ncceifarily confider him, when v/e view his charafter in this light, as not diftributing happinefs without diftindion ; but as exerting his moral attributes jointly, in the moft perfed manner. In this refped, when we confider Of Evils and their Caufes, 145 God as the moral Governor of the world, as re- warding and punifhing men for their condud: ; it appears abfolutely neceffary, for the ends of his adminillration, that there ihould be fome degree of pain and fuffering in the world. If all enjoy- ed pleafure, and none were expofed to pain, there could be no evidences of a moral admi- nillration. Upon fuch a fuppofition, the confe- quences of virtue and vice would be precifely the fame ; and we could not conclude, that the Ruler of All, had any particular regard for the one, more than for the other. The law of confcience, written in our hearts, might retain its power and obligation ; but it would be entirely deprived of its external fandions of reward and punifhmen«t. A natural government over inanimate matter, and merely fenfative beings, might, for ought we fee, be adminiflered without any pain or fuffering. Every creature, capable of feeling, might enjoy as much pleafure as its nature admits of. But if there be a moral government cftablifhed, the cafe is altered. There muft be a diftinclion made be- tween the righteous and the wicked. Some pe- culiar advantages mufl attend the fituation of the one, of which the other is deprived. There mufl not only be enjoyment, arifmg from com- mon and natural caufes, equally conferred on all ; but there mull be enjoyments, that are folely ap- propriated to the virtuous, and that are conferred as rewards : And, on the other hand, there mufl be pain and fufFering introduced, and fome kinds 15© Of Evils and their Caufeu of them introduced in fuch a manner, that they may not pafs into the lot of all men ; but may be either wholly, or for the moil part, inflided upon the vicious. In this light, pain and mife- ry, when they are the confequences of vice, are fo far from being arguments againfl the moral perfections of the Divine Nature, that they appear indifpenfably neceffary in a moral adminiftration ; and without them, we could not have any means by which we could know that God is juft, and that he rewards and puniihes men according to their condud. We perceive fomething analogous to this mode of procedure, even in htiman governments.— A parent finds it neceffary to punifh his child for a fault, and a magiitrate punifhes a worthlefs citizen for a crime ; not from any malicious view, but from a regard to good order, and the welfare of the domeflic or civil communities, over which they prefide. The Deity, in like man- ner, may be perfedly good, and yet may have allowed pain to be introduced into his works, in order to promote the purpofes of the moral go- vernment which he exercifes overmen. If once it be admitted, that we are under a courfe of mo- ral difcipline, it may be eafily Ihewn, that hard- fhips and inconveniencies are fo far from pro- ducing mifery upon the whole, that they are abfolutely neceffary to our happinefs. A ftate of difcipline and improvement requires, that indivi- duals fhould fuffer certain degrees of inconveni- Of Evils and their Caufes, t^i ence and fufFering. It is by means of thefe * rialsj? that their virtue is ftrengthened and improved. By- means of thefe, they find occafion for the exercife of their fortitude, patience, and magnanimity ; and acquire thofe habits which conftitute an eminent charader. If there were no diftrefs in the worlds there could be no charity ; if there were no dan- gers, there could be no courage ; if there were no temptations, there could be no felf-denial ; if there were no calamities, there could be no patience^ Natural evils are eifentially requifite to a fubordinate ftate of difcipline and improve- ment, fuch as that in which we are at prefent placed. They are necelTary for producing the highefl good of which our natures are fufceptible, the fleady and unwearied pradice of virtue ; and of confequence, for procuring the delight that proceeds from it^ If the end of placing us In the world, had been folely to render us happy, we might have had fome ground to complain. But we were placed in this world to be good and virtuous ; and^ in confequence of acquiring an upright character, and confirmed habits of excellence, to become happy. Every thing, therefore, that tends to llrengthen our virtue, and to confirm us in its habits, however unpleafing it may be in the mean- time, tends ultimately to our felicity, and is to be reckoned good upon the whole. No parent, •who values the happinefs of his child, will infli6t 1^2 Of Evils and their Caufes, pain upon him, merely with a view to render him miierable. He will, however, correal him for his good; he will force him to fwallow a bitter draught, when he believes it will be con- ducive to his health ; he will oblige him to un- dergo fevere labour and painful exercife, when he beheves they will tend to render him afterwards more refpeded, or more capable of fupplying himfelf with , the conveniencies of life. He will refufe him thofe agreeable things which he de- fires, when he perceives that they would tend to huit his body, his mind, or his circumftances. Natural evil anfwers fmiilar purpofes ; and there- fore, ought not to be regarded as ultimately evil. In the next place, it is to he remembered, that the imperfedion of created beings, is not inconfifl- ent with the highefl degree of moral excellence, in the Divine Character. Since this is the cafe, it evidently follows, that pain, in fo far as it is a confequence of imperfedion in created beings, cannot be regarded as inconfiftent with the Divine perfedions. One confequence of our imperfec- tion is, that we are intimately conneded with matter. One part of our frame is material ; and it mull be fubjed to thofe laws by which matter is governed. The material world is governed by general law^s. Gravitation and impulfe, are produced by fmiilar caufes, and are direded ac- cording to the fame principles, in every part of the univerfe. Thefe general laws are produdive Of Evils and ihetr Catifcs, i i;^ J of manifold good confequences upon the whole, and are evidences of benevolent intention. If thefe laws were not uniform, we would not know how to diredl our conduct. If a (tone gravitated at one time, and did not gravitate at another, no man could ad with any degree of certainty ; and no perfon fhould venture to build a houfe of ma- terials fubject to fuch arbitrary changes, becaufe the probability Would be, that his building would hot Hand. If wood fwam in water yeflerday, but funk to-day, no man would venture to fea in a fhip. It is in confequence of their dependence upon the continuance of thefe general laws, that men are encouraged to act ; and that they a6t in the perfuafion that they will be fuccefsful. With- out general laws, there would be no induftry or fKill, no arts or fciences. Men would never exert themfelves, if the confequences of their actions were altogether uncertain, and if the effect might probably be fomething entirely different from what they intended. Thefe general laws, there- for^, are good upon the whole. But from the nature of general laws, they mufl be productive of inconvenience to individuals. It is good upoa the whole, that matter fhould gravitate ; but in confequence of this law, a man may be hurt or killed by the fall of a (tone. From our con- nection with matter, this accident mud fometimes happen, if the laws operate uniformly. The acci- dent may happen to a good man, equally with a bad man. The only way in which we can eon^ K ceive that the accident fhould be prevented, is by an interpofition of Divine power. But fuch in- terpofition would be productive of worfe confe- quences, than thofe which follow from the uniform adherence to the general law. Men would live in fe- curity, and lay afide prudence, if, without it, they thought they might be fafe in perilous fituations. It is a general law of our nature, that we are fen- fible both to pleafure and to pain. The benevolence manifelled in rendering us fenfible to pleafure, will not be called in qucftion. But it may be alked, whether might not we have been made fenfible to pleafure, while we were fo conflituted, as not to feel pain ? For ought we fee to the con- trary, the Author of our Nature might have con- flituted us in that way. Bat though he had done fo, it is by no means evident, that our flate would have been more comfortable upon that account. If we did not know what pain is, we would be much lefs fenfible of pleafure, than we are at pre- fent. Befides, in many cafes, pain feems abfo- lutely neceffary, for the prefervation of our exif- tence, in the prefent flate of things. If we did not feel pain, when we approached too near the fire, we would not be apprehenfive of the danger to which we expofed ourfclves, by approaching flill nearer. If we felt no pain when we needed a fupply of food, we would have no monitor fuffi- ciently eloquent, to make us take that fuflenance which is requfite for our prefervation. The bare eeffation of pleafure would be infufficient j and Of Evils and their Caufes. 155 even the cravings of hunger often prodi'ice the effect with difficulty, upon thofe who are keenly- engaged in any purfuit. The anxieties and ioH- citudes that arife from the uncertainty of hun aa events, and the poflible mifcarriages of the bed concerted plans, though profeculed with unremit- ting endeavours, keep the hopes and fears of men continually awake. They prevent us from bemg fatiated and difgufted with life : They excite frefh induflry and appHcation, and thus procure for us the happinefs that relults from a£tion. Thofe evils, therefore, which arife from general laws, and from the nature of our conftitution, are the necelTary confequences of a plan evidently calcu- lated for our benefit. They arife from the nature of our fituation in the world, and from the rank which we hold in the fcale of beings. Superior natures, we may believe, are free from them ; but as they are the confequences of our fituation, no objeclions arife from them againfl the goodnefs of God, which do not arife from the creation of imperfect creatures at firft j which has been Ihewn to be no objedion at all. There are certain diftrefles and pains to which we are hable, and thefe too, not of the llighteft kind, which are wonderfully alleviated by concomi- tant or fubfequent pleafures. Of this kind are all thofe that fpring from focial affedions. The pain we feel from fympathy with the diftreiTed, the grief to which we are liable upon the lois of ^5^ Of Evils and their Caufes. a friend, are very painful fenfations. But there is always fome mixture of pleafure attending feel- ings of this nature. We think them proper and becoming in our fituation. We are v/eil pleafedy becaufe we poflefs them ; we confider them as an ornament to our conftitution ; w^e refled with pleafure upon the exercife of them ; and we defpife the man who would have been infenfible to pain, upon a fuTiilar occafion. Thefe are diftrefles un- der which we do not repine, and which are fel- dom mentioned in the complaints of the evils of life. The principles which they affed, are con- fidered as parts of our focial nature ; they pro- cure love to him in whom they are llrong, and they appear in fome way allied to goodnefs. Laflly, on this head it deferves to be recolleded^ that many of the mofl intolerable natural evils to which w^e are expofed in this world, are the con- fequences of vice. There are few perfons in great affliction who do not blame their own folly or bad conduft, for a confiderable fhare of the fuf- ferings which they endure. Many acute difeafes, many of the difappointments that torment the am- bitious, the covetous, and the afpiring ; all the remorfe and vexation that torture the vicious ; are \ the offspring of imprudence or of guilt. Add ta thefe, the calamities of opprefiion and violence, of fraud and extortion, of war and riot ; all of •which fpring from inordinate defires. Remove from the world all the evils that fpring from tkefe Of Evils and their Caufes. 157 and fimilar caufes, and the remainder will not form the foundation of much complaint. Mod of the evils to whick we are expofed, fpring either from our own bad condud, or from the bad con- dud of other perfons 5 and, according to the ob- fervation formerly laid down, neither of them ought to be afcribed to God. Natural evil is no more a folid objedion to the goodnefs of God, than the evils of defect or imperfedion. IV. In the third place, they who are unwilling to acknowledge the goodnefs of the Supreme Mind, have often dwelt upon the moral evils which are too prevalent in human Hfe. They have exag- gerated the corruptions of mankind, and have reprefented vice as the common courfe of beha- viour among men. It is eafily fhewn, that their black reprefentation of our prefent ftate is not true ; but they are ready to retrench when they are driven out of one fituation, and to fortify themfelves in another Vv^hich feems to them more tenable. They boaft of it as the great and fuper- eminent advantage of fcepticifm, that they are con- fined by no dodrines, no fixed opinion, nor ar- ticles of belief; but that when they are forced from one ground, they can always take refuge in another ; and it will be wonderful, if after many trials, they do not find a place where it will be impollible to attack them. They enter {lightly into the combat j thev never expofe themfelves to 158 Of Evils and their Caufe es. a tofs' rout ; they always retire in good time, be- cause they are not obftinate ; they choofe their ground anew, and their force is unimpaired, when it is neceifary at a future time to begin the en- counter. They maintain, that vice is the common ftate of man ; that there are no good a6lions what- ever.— They muft foon yield up this field of con- tention. It can be fhewn indifputably, that there are many good adions performed. — They main- tain, in the next place, that vice is far more pre- valent than virtue. Though it be fhewn to their convidion, that this is not the cafe, ftill they are not without a fubterfuge. They contend, that at leaft, there is vice and corruption in the world. What may be the precife quantity needs not be afcertained. All acknowledge, that there is much of it. If God be holy and juft, why is any vice permitted ? Might not man have been fo conflituted, that they would never have offen- ded againfl the Divine Laws ? They who hold the opinion, that all our adions are neceifary, without denying the exiftence of the Deity, find the ground they have taken lip not eafily maintained, when thefe objections are urged againfh them. According to their fcheme, " the adions of men do not depend upon their powers. It is true, they proceed immedi- ately from their wills ; but their wills are aded upon neceffarily by motives, and their determin- ations as equally neceffary with the motions of a Of Evils and their Caufes, 159 piece of matter, when a fufficient degree of force is applied to it. Thefe motives are neceflary caufes, and they are provided and appointed to. a£t upon minds according to general laws, fimilar to thofe by which" bodies gravitate, and motion changes its dire£tion in confequence of impulfe. Since, therefore, the vAW is not voluntary, but un- der neceffity, the good or evil of human adions is chargeable to that being, by whofe appoint- ment the will was laid under necefTary laws. It is maintained, that motives are prefented to the mind, and operate upon it by general laws, fimi- lar to thofe by which the material fabric of the univerfe is governed. Thefe general laws were appointed by God. In confequence of general laws, there mufl be particular exceptions ; as pain arifes, in confequence of them, in the natural world, fo vice proceeds from them in the moral world. Both originally fpring from caufes of Di- vine appointment ; but they are only confequen- ces of that appointment, in as far as partial evil is infeparable from univerfal good. The laws themfelves produce good upon the whole ; and human vices, as well as human frailties, anfwer wife and benevolent purpofes. All our actions, good and bad, contribute equally to carry on the great and good defign of our maker ; and there- fore there is nothing, however vicious it may appear to us, that is ill in his fight, or, at leail, nothing that is ill upon the whole. '^ K4 i6o Of Evils and their Caufeu This opinion fets out with hypothefes that caa never be proved. We are not able to fhew, that there are general laws in the moral world, any- way fimilar to thofe by which the material world is governed. We are able to comprehend the laws of gravitation and impulfe, and we have clear evidence of their univerfality. But we know no- thing of the laws by which motives are regularly prefented to the mind. We fee how gravita- tion and impulfe are carried on, and we can afcer- tain their eifeds. We can tell what force of gun- powder will throw a cannon-ball, of a given weight, to a particular diilance. But we cannot afcertain the weight or force of motives, nor by. any experiments determine their confequences. We have not, therefore, any evidence that the laws of the moral world are perfedly analogous to thofe of the material world. The fuppofition, that the mind of man can be a6ted upon as a piece of matter, by the force of motives, excludes all notions of human power, of felf-determination, and felf-motion ; which feem to be the qualities elTential to mind, and which diflinguilh it from matter. It muft firft be fhewn that thefe qualities of mind do not exifl, which will be no eafy talk, before it be proved that mind is fubjecl to laws fmiilar to thofe of matter. If the mind be paiTiye, it may be governed by fuch laws ; but if it be adive, it is not eafy to fhew that fuch laws can f^e applicable to it. Of Evils and their Caiifes. i6i The conclufions, that bad actions contribute equally with virtuous actions to carry on good ends, and that nothing can appear ill in the fight of the Deity, appear to be harlh. They may be true, but it would require knowledge of the gene- ral conflitution of the univerfe, very far fuperior to that which we polfefs, to determine that they are founded in truth. Our notions of Divine juftice lead us to conclude, that vice is hurtful in the government of God, that it is odious in his fight, and that he is profecuting a plan, in confequence of which it will be finally extermin- ated from his works. It does not feem eafy to account for moral evil in a good government, upon the fame principles with natural evil. The difference, between inactive paffive matter, and an active felf-determining mind, renders the two cafes unlike to one another. With refped to matter, we perceive the influence of general laws ; but, with refpecl to mind, if fimilar laws be eftabhfh- ed, we are incapable of difcerning them ; and in cafes fo widely different from each other, it is too great a flep, to infer the exiftence of the one, merely from the exiftence of the other. The fyflem of general laws may, no doubt, be efta- blifhed in the moral world, and may account for evils in a way that we cannot perceive ; but in a matter of this fort, we ought not to reafon upon hypothefis, but from facts. If J on the other hand, we believe what our i62 Of Evils and their Caufes, perceptions and our obfervations convince us is true, and which it will never be poffible to fhew to be felfe, that man is a free agent, endowed with powers of choice, felf-determination, and aftion ; it follows, that thofe a6lions which he performs voluntarily, are chargeable to his own account, and are not imputable to God. If human liberty be fuppofed, the only objedion that can be made to the Divine adminillration, on account of the vice that is in the world, mufl arife from this fmgle view of the matter ; that God has given man a power which he is capable of abufmg, and which might have been withheld from him. If he had not been invefled with moral faculties, he could have done no evil. Why, then, did not God render him incapable of committing guilty adions ? This argument is, at bottom, the fame with the ojpjedion drawn from evils of imper- fedion. We cannot give any reafon why the Deity at firft created accountable creatures, any more than why he created beings that had not every perfec- tion. We fee, however, no inconfiftency be- tween the Divine perfections, and the creation of beings capable of choice and wall. A being capa- ble of felf-determination, is furely of a clafs fu- perior to thofe who are a6led upon by necelTity, like pafTive and inert matter ; and if it was not inconfiftent with Divine perfedion to make necef- fary agents, it could not be inconfiftent to make Of Evils and their Caufes, 1 63 voluntary agents. If a moral adminidration be worthy of God, if it be worthy of him to train up minds to excellence, in a ftate of difcipline and trial ; it furely was alfo worthy of him to confer upon them powers fuited to that (late, to render them capable of making improvement by virtuous exertions, and having it in their power likewife, to aft in difobedience to his laws, that fpirits of true worth and dignity might be diftinguifhed from the unwor- thy and incurable ; and that, of confequence, diflri- butive juflice might appear in rewarding the vir- tuous and punifhing the vicious. If we beheve God to be a righteous governor, we fee evident reafons why vice fhould, for a time, be permitted in his works. He does not fuffer it to remain, becaufe it anfwers any good purpofe ; but he fuffers it, becaufe it is infeparable from a ftate of probation and difcipHne, where the worth of mien's characters is to be tried. If we are in a ftate of trial, it refults from the nature of fuch a ftate, that fome will conduct themfelves in it well, and others conduft themfelves ill. There muft be vice as well as virtue for a feafon. But God is a juft governor and judge. He will feparate the good from the bad ; he will reward the one, and punifli the other. Evil fliail at lafl be extermin- ated from his v/orks. He is not the caufe, im- mediate or remote, of the evil that happens. He granted to man powers of ading virtuoufly. By means of thefe powers, a great part of men do accordingly act virtuoufly, and meet with his ap- 164 ' Of Evils and their Caufes, probation in confequence of their behaviour. There are others who ad vicioufly, not furely from neceflity, for they have the fame powers originally v^dth thofe who a6l virtuouily, and they know that they could exert them in the fame ipan- ner. Their want of improvement proceeds entirely from themfelves. In this light, it may be faid^ that vice is the confequence of a good general law in the Divine government, though this could not be faid accord- ing to the preceding ftatement. It is a law in the Divine government, that minds fhould rife to emi- nence by means of pafling through a ftate of difcipline and probation. We, have as clear evi- dence that this law is eflabhfhed, as that the laws of gravitation and impulfe cxifl. This law is cer- tainly calculated to promote valuable purpofes in the univerfe. It is the means of forming at laft, a great and immortal fociety of chofen minds, ca- pable of rifmg to unUmited degrees of excellence. In confequence of this law, men mud arife to dignity by means of their own adions. They mufl be left to a6l virtuoufly or vicioufly as they choofe. Virtue mufl be rewarded, and vice punifhed. Room mufl be given for worth to difplay itfelf, and, of confequence, room mufl alfo be given for the indulgence of vicious inclinations and de- praved habits. This conflitution of things is fuitable to all the notions we can form of a perfed moral go-^ Of Evils and their Cau/if. 1 6^ vefnment, and is worthy of the Sovereign of the univerfe. It is of no confeqence to infift, that, as the Deity foreknew every thing that was to hap- pen, he might have prevented vice. This fuppo- fition, if it means any thing, muft mean, that God might have conftituted things in a different way from what we obferve them. Perhaps there might have been a thoufand ways in which In- finite wifdom could have conftituted the univerfe ; but we cannot point out any that would have been, better than that which he has chofen, nor any that would have been fo good. The prefent dif- tribution of things is worthy of him, and the events that happen, are fuch as he faw would happen, and would be productive of good confe- quences. But if it be only meant, that the fame difpofition of things being fuppofed to be efta- blifhed, the good might have been brought about and the evil prevented, becaufe it was forefeen, the fuppofition is abfurd. When we fay that God could prevent future adions, we fay what is contradidory. An adion muft be either future or not. If it be not future, it cannot be prevent- ed. If it be future, and a Divine interpofition renders it not future, then it has futurity, and wants it at the fame time ; but ftnce it was prevented, it never was future, which is abfurd. The ob- jedion, then, muft only mean, that the Deity might have ordered matters in a different way from what they are at prefent, and in this fenfe it has been fliev/n, that the cafe is fuppofable j yet wheu 1 66 I Of Evils and their Caufes. confidered as an objedion, it is certainly ground- lefs, becaufe we do not know how things could have been better conflituted than they are ; nor do we know how any particular part of the Di- vine government could have been altered, with- out producing worfe confequences upon the whole, than thofe which we want to remedy. We may then conclude, that neither evils of imperfedlion, phyfical evils, nor moral evils, as they at prefent appear in the fyftem of the univerfe, are any folid objections againft the moral perfedlions of the Di- vine nature. All of them are reconcileable with perfed wifdom, goodnefs, and juilice. V. Having thus endeavoured, very briefly, tojufti- fy the ways of God to men, by fhewing that the evils which occur in his works are no folid objec- tion to the moral perfections of his nature, I fhall now give a very fhort view of the principal hy- pothefes which have been invented to account for mifery and vice. It is needlefs to mention the method in which the heathen nations accounted for it. They be-^ lieved in Gods of limited power and wifdom, not guided by the rules of righteoufnefs, but under the influence of every diforderly pafllon. The appearance of evil was not inconfiflent with the charadlers of their Deities, and they had no fcruple in afcribing it dircdly to them. They coulidered their Gods as ec^ually vicious with the Of Evils and their Caufes. ifitj word of men. Some of their philofophers, in- deed, infifted that the Gods could do no evil ; but then, they excluded them, in a great meafure, from the government of the world, and attributed evil to fate or dcfliny. Among chriftians there arofe a fe£t, in ancient times, who maintained, that there are two firfl inde- pendent principles, the one of which is the Author of all good, and the other the Author of all eviL Thefe were called Manichseans, from their founder Manes. The good principle they called the principle of light, and the bad one the principle of darknefs ; and between thefe two, they imagined that a conti- nual warfare was carried on, the good principle al- ways diifufing happinefs, and the evil principle al- ways fcattering mifery, and vice, and confufioa through his works. Manes feems to have borrow- ed his notions from the theology of the ancient Perlians, who, as we are told by fome writers, alfo believed in two fimilar prmciples, Oromafdes and Arimanias ; but he incorporated his abfurd philo- fophy with the dodrines of chriftianity. There are no writings of Manes, nor of his followers- the Manichaeans, now remaining ; and all that we know concerning them is gathered from fome fa- thers of the church, who have laboured to confute them, and particularly from St. Auguiline, who may be fuppofed to have been well acquainted with their do£lrines, as he himfelf was brought up ia the principles of that fedl^ and did not reliii- l6S Of Evils and their Caufes* quilli them till after he had come to the years of difcretion and reafon. Some have even imagined, that this learned and ingenious father never en- tirely furmounted the principles he imbibed in his youth ; and that though he gave up the notion of two independent beings, and wrote againfl it, yet he was not able to reconcile the appearance of evil with the belief of a good Deity, and there- fore, reprefented God as of a mixed charader, fo that he might be the author both of good and evil. The charge is not, however, I believe, well founded. We have not any full account of the reafonings made ufe of by the Manichaeans ; and if we may judge of them from what is faid by their opponents, we mud believe that they were not of much confequence. Mr Bayle, however, a mod ingenious fceptic, has endeavoured, in feveral articles of his Phiiofophical and Biographi- cal Didionary, to fupply the defed, and has pro- duced feveral arguments which he thinks they might have ufed ; and they are more ingenious, in all probability, than any they did ufe. It does not appear, however, that he has made many converts* Mr. Hume himfelf, notwithftanding his inclina- tion to reprefent in the faired light every fydem that is fubverfive of the Divine perfections, gives it up as not fuiting the appearances in the uni- verfe ; in which, as he judly obferves, there is no fucii druggie between benevolence and malevo^ lence, as it fuppofes. The hypothefis itfelf hardly needs a confutation, in the mod Jjpecious form ia Of Evils and their Caufes. 1 6x^ which it can be drefled. It is contrary to all our notions of independency. Allow that there are two firfl Principles : Either the one is more powerful than the other, or they are equal in power. If the one be more powerful than the other, he would entirely prevent the other from having any fhare in the production or govern- ment of the univerfe ; and, therefore, every thing would be abfolutely good, or abfolutely evil. If they be equal in power, but have oppofite wills, they would counterbailance each other ; the one would prevent the other from acting, and there- fore would produce nothing. There cannot,- therefore, be two independent firft prmcipies, the one good, and the other evil. The appearancesf of nature are alio contradidory to this hypothefis. There is certainly more good than evil in the world y confequently, the world is not under the dominion of a good and an evil nature ; for on that fuppofition, the one could riot be more pre- valent than the other. — -Still further, there is no occafion to have recourfe to two firfl principles,- in order to folve appearances. Evil can be ac- counted for more limply, and therefore more philofophically, upon the belief of one Supreme Being, than of more. Evils of imperfeclion mult neceifarily fall to the iliare of created, and limited beings. Natural evil is unavoidable, in confequence of the eflabiifliment of general laws. Since thefe laws are good upon the whole, they mud have' been eftabliihed by a good Being. There are no 170 Of Evils and their Caufes* general laws that produce more evil than good^ HI the whole fyftem of things. All, therefore^ that remains to be afcribed to an evil being, is the fuffering that arifes from good general laws. But it would be abfurd to afcribe the laws themfelves to a good being, and the confequences of them to an evil principle. Moral evil is the work of men^. and is to be afcribed to no external principle. But even granting that it were to be afcribed to a firil and independent principle, what would be the confe* quence ? Human vices, on that hypothefis, would be neeelTary.- They would proceed from the ex- ertion and activity of the evil principle. Men who committed them from involuntary impulfe, could not be guilty. Thefe adions, therefore, could not be morally evil ; of canfequence, there could be no moral evil in the world ; and there- fore, no reafon for the fuppolltion of an evil prin- ciple who is the author of it. In modern times, there have alfo been hypo- thefes invented to account for evil j, but they are not fatisfadory. Whenever we endeavour to af- certain the motives and views, according to which the Divine Mind aded in the production of the tmiverfe, we are beyond our depth ; and if we endeavour to fpeak of the fubjed, according ta our conceptions, we fhall foon find ourfelves in- volved in intricacy and darknefs, from which we will be unable to extricate ourfelves. Of Evils and their Caiifet. iji Of all the hypothefes that have been invented to account for evil in modern times, the rvilem of the bed, or the (liXTiTov fyftem, as it is called, has procured the greateft number of adherents. The inventor and principal fupporter of this 'V'^ m, iva^ the celebrated Mr. Leibnitz, a German philo- fopher of great eminence, during the end of the laft and beginning of the prefent centiry*. Ac- cording to this hypothefis, there were an infinite number of fyftems, that might, with equal eafe, have been adopted by the Author of Nature, vvhe-i he was creating the univerfe. Every thing might have been formed and arranged in innumerable ways, befides that in which they are formed ar^d arranged at prefent. To the underftanding of the Divine Mind, all polfible fyftems appeared at once ; and among them he chofe that which he has eftablifhed in the univerfe. This choice can- not be fuppofed to have been made wichout rea- fon. What then was it that moved the Deity to make choice of the prefent confliturion of thi:Vi;s, in preference to all other poffible fyflems ? To this It is anfwered, '* that God is infinitely good, and therefore gave the preference to the prefent con- llitution of things, becaufe it is the bed poiTible. It is true that there are many evils occurring, but they are not evils upon the whole ; on the con- trary, without them the greateft poiTible quantity of good would not be produced. Phyfical evil is frecjuently employed as the means of procuring, L2 * This was V^Ittcn feveral years a|;o. 172 Of Evils and their Caufes. greater good, or of hindering greater evil ; and fometimes it is the pimifhrnent offauhs, andtend« -to promote the good of the fufferer or of others. A mixture of it is even neceffary to make us relifk the goods of life. As to moral evil, it alfo often ferves as the means of obtaining good, or of prevent- ing greater evil ; but vice is not produced by the Divine will, to attain thefe ends. It is only permit- ted as a neceffary condition, a ftne qua non^ with- out admitting which, the greateft good cannot be produced ; for both natural and moral evil are infeparably connected with the bell pofTible fyflem of things. Vice mud often be permitted, other- wife greater evils would enfue. There are evils which a man might have it in his power to pre- vent, but which he mufl not prevent ; otherwife he would relinquilh his duty, and occafion greater evils, upon the whole, than thofe which he pre- vents. If an officer, in the time of danger, had an important pofl committed to his truft, which required all his attention ; and while he was Hand- ing on duty, if he faw two foldiers of the garrifon engaged in a quarrel, and ready to kill one another ; he mud permit them to commit the crime they intended, and mud not leave his pod to prevent the confequences of their violence. In like manner, God mud permit vice ; for he would be wanting in what he owes to himfelf, in what he owes to his wifdom, his goodnefs, and his perfection, if he followed not the bent of his in- clinations to produce happinefs, and if he did not Of Evils and their Caufes. 173 chodfe that which is abfolately the befl, notwith- itanding the evil of guilt which is involved in it, and interwoven with it, by the fupreme neceffity of eternal truths ; for it is true, from all eternity, that in the beft poflible fyftem, there muft be ail intermixture of evil. In fuch a fyftem, evil is a neceflary ingredient, and is infeparable from it," This fyftem is defended at great length, and with much metaphyfical fubtility, by Leibnitz, in his Theodocea, or Effays on the Goodnefs of God, and Liberty of Man. When conftdered abftrad- ly, it has an amiable appearance, and therefore, has been embraced by feveral writers fmce his time. It is, however, Hable to many and power- ful objedions. It is, in the firft place, founded not upon facl:, but upon conjecture. We cannot pretend that we have any knowledge of the views, from a re- gard to which God created the univerfe. We cannot, in the moft part of cafes, inveftigate the purpofes and defigns of one another, nor deter- mine with certainty, from what the generality of actions proceed. Much lefs are we able to deter- mine any thing accurately, with refped to the fchemes of a nature fo infinitely fuperior to us as the Divine. We have no principles laid down to us, from which we can conclude v. ith certainty, that the prefent fyftem is the beft poflible. We do not know, if the Deity intended to communi- 174 Of Evils and iheif Cdufes, cate the highefl; degrees of happinefs that could have have been conferred upon the creatures he has formed, at lead in the earlier period of their exigence. If we were to reafon from analogy, we would rather conclude, that the happinefs of the human race at lead, is improving ; and we have reafon to believe, that it will for ever im^ prove. If the whole fyflem be improving, it was not at firfl the bell polTible, nor is at prefent fo ; and we have no reafon to fay, that the Deity could TxOt have m.ade the whole at firft, as perfect as it is to become. It cannot be proved, that the Deity had no other end in view but the communication jof happinefs. We have, on the contrary, reafon to believe, that he could have rendered men much happier than they are, if he had not intend- ed to promote more valuable purpofes by their prefent fubordinate flate, than are already accom- pliflied. It is prefumption in us to pretend, that we are able to point out the ends which the Au- thor of Nature muft have had in his works, any farther than we are able clearly to afcertain, from the efFeds which he has produced, and fubjeded to our view and examination. Leibnitz does not pretend to prove the infinite goodnefs of the Di- vine Nature, from his works. He feems to lay it down as a poftulate j for he declares, that though mifery univerfally prevailed upon this earth, and vice as well as mifery, yet we ought to concludq this world the bed of poiTible fyflems ; becaufc pur earth is only a fateiiite of the fun, and in the Of Evils and their Caufes. ry^ Immenfity of nature, there is room for an infinite number of worlds, where uninterrupted happinefs may be enjoyed. Now, if there were nothing but vice and mifery in the world, or even if thefe w^re in general prevalent, I think it would be im- poffible for us to conclude that God is good ; whatever he might appear to thofe who lived in more favoured parts of the world, or to beings that enjoyed a more extenfive view of his works. In reafoning upon this fubjecl, the goodnefs of God ought not to be afTumed as a firfl principle^, but ought to be proved ; and furely the only proof of it which we can obtain, muil arife from its cifeds. In the next place, this hypothefis carries along >e^dth it certain views of things which are not eafily reconcilable with Divine perfection. It fup= pofes, that God chofe the beft poffible fyflem of things, and yet he chofe a fyflem in which m^uch ^vil is blended with the good that appears in it. In the beft poffible ftate of things, therefore, evil is fo intimately mixed with good, and is fo necef- fary to its production, that the Deity himfelf can- not feparate them. The beft poffible fyftem that the Deity himfelf can form, it is fuppofed, muft not only contain evil, but that evil is even necef- Jary for the production of the greateft good. Thefe fuppofitions are furely harffi. They reft upon this foundation, that good and evil are link- -ed together by fome fatal neceffity, independent L 4 176 Of Evils and their Caufes, altogether of the Divine will, and incapable of be- ing difiulved by Divine wifdom and power. If good and evil be thus inleparably connedied, the DicLy mufl: have taken them as he found them, and formed them into a lyflem, in fuch a manner as to prevent the appearance of evil as much as pciTible. The bed intentions could do no more. tJpon this fuppofition, in the heft poflible fyilem, the evil may be far fuperior to the good ; fmce the quantity of it intermixed, independently of the Divine will, by the hand of irrefiftible fatality, may have been fo great, that Divine power and wifdom could not adjuil matters, fo as to give the good an afcendancy. The befl pofnble fyilem xnay, of confequence, be a very bad one. Supply a good workman with bad materials, he will m.ake the moft of them that can be made ; but flill his productions may be exceedingly bad, and mull be fo almofl inevitably. This fyilem., if it be ad- mitted, no ^oubt fully vindicates the Divine goodnefs. If he conilituted ail things in the befl way that was pofTible, he acted from benevolence. But if fuch be the nature of things, independently of his will, that in the beil arrangement in which leven Divine wifdom and power can put them, much mifery and vice mufl be introduced ; it mud be believed that the Deity is, in one refpecl, fubjecl to abfolute fate, and confequently, is not the independent Author of all things. The whole fyilem, indeed, leads diredly to ne- Of Evils and their Caufes, 177 cefTity. If every thing, even the calamities and the vices of human life, conflitute a part of the befl polTible fyftem of things, then nothing could be otherwife than it is, without rendering the fyftem vi^orfe, and difappointing the views, accord- ing to which every thing was formed. No pain, nor vice, can be wanted, fmce they are neceflary parts of the plan. Leibnitz does not hefitate to admit this conclufion in all its force ; and he does not endeavour to obviate it, except by means of new hypothefes. Agreeably to his fyftem of neceftity, he maintains, that there is a fufficient reafon for every thing, and therefore nothing can be changed ; becaufe, if there is a fufficient reafon why it ftiould be placed where it is, there can be none why it ftiould be placed any where elfe. Hence, he maintains, that no particular matter can be difpofed of otherwife than it is. Upon the fame principle, he maintains, that the material world could not be fituated in any other part of fpace except that which it occupies. When afk- ed, why no particle of matter can change its place ? He anfwers, becaufe no particle of matter is pre- cifely like another, and therefore, no one of them can be fubftituted for another. It is as if bodies of various figures and dimenfions were adjufted to one another, fo as to fill a veflel of a certain capacity, without leaving any interftices ; in which cafe, the place of no one body could be altered, without making the whole aggregate take up more room than the capacity of the veifeL 17 3 Of Evils and their Caufes, When It Is alked, why the material world could not be placed fome where elfe, than where it is fituated ? He anfwers, that fpace is full, and there is no room for receiving it, except in the precife place in which it (lands. In this manner, he builds one theory upon another, and endeavours to ward oiF the objections made to his hypothefes, by fram- ing a new one. — Fond of his do6lrine of necellity, he fuppofes that there is a correfpondence eternal- ly eftablifhed among things 5 by means of which, certain effects are regularly produced, without any connedion among the things themfelves. This he calls a pre-eftablifhed harmony. He fup- pofes foul and body to have no connedion nor in- fluence upon each other. How then does the mind receive impreflions by means of the body ? And how do the adions of the body follow the volitions of the mind ? All this is the confequence of the pre-eftablifhed harmony. Body and mind are fo conftituted, that the adions of the one re- gularly correfpond with thofe of the other ; but the two have no more connedion than two clocks, one in Britain and the other at the Cape of Good Hope, that always point to the fame hour at the fame time. There is no end of fuch theories that are totally unfupported by fad and experience ; and the conclufions which depend upon them ought never to be received as truths. There are fome other writers who have afcrib- Of Evils and their Caufes, ryp ed the a£lioH9 of the Deity tQ a fmgle principle ; but have done it in fuch a way, that it is not eafy to fay if they had any peculiar notions, though they have ufed a particular form of expreffion. Thus, there are fome who have afcribed the Di- vine Gondud entirely to goodnefs ; but they have not explained goodnefs in fuch a manner as to ex- clude the other perfe£bio»s of the Divine Nature. They have not reprefented it as a blind and in- difcriminating defire to promote happinefs ; of confequence, it may be confiftent with juflice, ho- linefs, and truth. Some others, particularly Mr. Grove, refolve all the Divine condud into the effedls of wifdom ; and, no doubt, wifdom may be confidered as di- recting the purpofes of goodnefs and of juflice ; but it mud not be underflood as the only princi- ple of the Divine Mind. Mr. Balguy, an emi- nent defender of Do£tor Clarke's views of Moral Obligation, deduces all the adions of the Deity from rectitude ; which he explains as a regard to what is fit, to the nature of things, and to their relations, without making his meaning fully known. It appears, however, that he did not underfland rectitude as exprefTive of any one per* fedion, exclufive of the reft. All fyflems concerning the ends which the Dei- ty had in view in forming the world, or which he 1 86 Of Evils and their Caufes* ftill profecutes in governing it, relate to fubjcfts far beyond our depth. We ought to avoid the prefumption of contriv- ing them, and to fatisfy ourfelves with thofe mea- fures of knowledge concerning our Creator and Governor, which are within our reach, and which he has enabled us, by attention and diligence, to acquire. END OF PART I. DISCOURSES ON THEOLOGICAL and LITERARY SUBJECTS. PART II, Conjljiing chiefly of Discourses which were read m the Literary Socjett, at their Weekly Meetings in Glasgow College, DISCOURSE I. On ^alities of Inanimated Objects^ which excite Agreeable Sevjations. WHEN external objects are prefented to us, we not only perceive their figure, colour, fize, and proportion, but we are alfo affected by them with pleafure or uneafmefs. Yet though all men are endowed with powers, both of percep- tion and of fenfation, there are fome men who feem only to perceive, and others who feem only to feel. One man attends fo much to the figure of a romantic rock, that he is able to delineate its external appearance ; while another is filled with fentiments of awe and veneration, but can give na diflind account of the objed which excited them. A painter is obliged to acquire a habit of attending to things as they are in themfelves : The man of fenfibility, who is not an artift, generally attends only to the effed which they produce upon his mind. Accordingly^ thefe perfons, when giving 1 84 On f^aUties of Inanimate d ObjeHs, an account bf what has appeared to them remark- able, chooie very different methods of expreffmg themfelves. Re who is attentive to the vifible ap- pearance of cl jeds, endeavours to reprefent them as they are in themfelves, that he may exhibit to the imagination of others, the very form by which he himfelf was ftruck, and thus excite in their mind emotions fimilar to what he himfelf felt. The other exprefles the feelings that were excited in his own mind, and endeavours to communicate them to other perfons ; but he leaves it, in a good meafure, to their own fancies, to form an objed: ccrrefpondent to thefe emotions. This difference in the minds of m.en, produces the two forms of defcription which have been taken notice of by cri- tics ; the diredy which attempts to delineate the objed ; and the indired^ which is the expreffion of the emotions felt by the fpedator. Among the fentiments excited in the mind, by the perception of external objeds, there are cer- tain differences which are eafily difcerned. A gentle flowiiig rivulet, and an impetuous torrent,, (Jo not affed: us in the fame manner. The mind is difpofed to tranquillity by the one, and roufed and agitated by the other. The diflindion be- tween the fenfations occafioned by fublime and by beautiful objeds, is univerfally known. The charaders of theie fentiments are exceedingly dif- ferent. The fenfation of beauty is gay and en- livening. The feniation of fublimity is foleran 0}2 ^alkies of Inanimate OhjeBs. 185 ntid elevating. We are attracted to a beautiful ob« jeft by a kind of love ; and accordingly, we fometimes bellow the appellations of amiable and lovely, even upon inanimate colours and figures. But a fub- lime object infpires us with a feeling of a very dif- ferent kind, which removes us to a diftance from it, and makes us look towards it with admira- tion. The metaphorical language of every country, and the comparifons made ufe of in poetry, are founded upon a refemblance between the fenla- ations excited by fubhme and beautiful objeds, and thofe that are excited by condu£l. The tran-. quil joy which we feel when we behold Idnd and charitable behaviour, is not unlike the gay emo- tion which is infpired by beauty. The magnani- mous character which exhibits uniform courage and felf-denial, fills us with a kind of admiration fimilar to that which is excited by fublime objeds. Hence, a generous man in unfavourable circum- ftances, is " a flower that blooms unfeen, and waftes its fragrance on the air." A man of tried and fteady virtue, is a rock that ftands immovable amidd the fury of the waves. The fentiments, however, excited by conduft, are very diffimilar in one refpecl, from thofe excited by external ob- jects. The actions of intelligent agents, are the pro- per fubjedls of approbation and difapprobation ; which are moral judgments, entirely different from any feeling occafioned by inanimate objects^ M 1 8'6 On ^lalities of Inanimate ObjcSis^ The powers, by means of which the agreeable qua- lities of external objeQs are perceived and relifhed,. are capable of euhure and improvement ; they are alfo Hable to be vitiated. All men have thofe powers originally; but the variety of taftes which fub- fifts among mankind clearly proves, that they have not been equally careful in bringing them to per fee- tion. It is natural to exped, that fome men fliould- have more delicate feelings of beauty and fubli- mity than others. The circumftances in which they are placed, have an evident tendency to pro- duce a difference in the degree of their fenfibility, A mathematician who is folely intent upon the invefligation. of truth, is employed upon proper- ties of his figure, which are totally unconnected with its beauty or deformity. It is his bufinefs to per- ceive, and not to feel. His faculties of fenfation,. therefore, may pofTibly remain in the fituation in which nature left them. A man, in the fame manner, whofe thoughts are employed with views of profit, has frequent temptations to overlook agreeable appearances. One perfon may be capable of perceiving an objed diftindly, and of form- ing judgments concerning its figure, fize, colour^ and proportions ; and yet be, in a great meafure^, infenfible to its beauty or deformity. Another may be deeply flruck with beauty, who has neverthelefs paid little attention to vifible appear- ances. Thus, men, according to their circum- fiances, may improve their faculties both of per- ception and of fenfation j or they may negleQ: ei-^ On ^aliiies of Inanimate Objects, 187 ther of them, though endowed with them by nature. Even among thofe who have Improved their faculties of fenfation, there does not appear the fame degree of delicacy on every occafion. Pre- judices have a powerful efFe(^ upon our judgments concerning the agreeable qualities of external ob- jects. The afTociations to which the mind is ac- cuflomed, mud necelTarily influence its determina- tions with regard to its feelings, as well as its per- ceptions. Objects are frequently valued, not on their own account, but on account of fomething elfe. In cafes of this nature, the mind impoles upon itfeif, and transfers to the object agreeable qualities which do not properly belong to it, and which it would not afcribe to it in different cir« cumflances. One man may think an ancient Go- thic pile elegant, from a principle analogous to that which makes tranfubftantiation appear true to ano- ther. Some antiquaries have difcovered beauty, even in the rufl of ancient medals : And a lover fees excellencies, which none but himfelf is capa- ble of obferving, in every trinket that belongs to his miflrefs. The varieties, then, in the fentiments of men, con« cerning the agreeable qualities of external objects^ do not prove, that there is not in reality beauty and fublimity in nature. There is no reafon for aiking with infult, as fome have done, for a flan-^ M2 1^8 On ^alit'ics of Inanimate Ohjecis. dard that is invariable, by which all obje6ls of tafte may be examined ; any more than there is oc- cafion to aik for it in morals or in reafoning. There have been differences among men upon alniofl every fubjed, and there muft be differences while their circumflances are not the fame. The circumflances of men make a variety even in their perceptions- What appears to one to be a circular plate, another perceives to be a globe. The hght in which an objed is viewed, the dif. tance at which it is placed, and the objects that furround it, have all an effed in altering its ap^ pearance to the eye- Yet in matters of this na» ture, we can fpeak with certainty, and we need no (tandard to regulate this diverfity of perception. Our tafte of beauty and fubhmity may be more apt to be influenced by adventitious circumftances than our perceptions are. It is not, however, always arbitrary and capricious. Every body prefers a regular figure to one that is irregu- lar ; a circle to a fquare ; and the glofly ap« pearance of filk to a dull uniform colour. Men differ as httle in their notions of beauty, when a violet, a winding ftream, or a fwelling green hill^ are prefented to them, as in their conceptions of the figure, fize, or colour of thofe objedls. Our knowledge of the agreeable qualities of exterijal ob- jedts depends upon felf-evident principles, which, are as certain, and as univerfally known, as any truths that depend upon our fenfes. Men are, ia ireality, agreed wiih regard to them, and feldom On ^falities of Inanimate Ohjeds, 189 •differ about the beauty or deformity of anyobje£l, when they are not under the influence of fonie paflion. But external objeds frequently poifefs other agreeable quaUties befides beauty ; or though they poffefs beauty, it is fometimes united with difagreeable qualities : Of confequence, the effed produced upon the mind is of a complex nature. But in fuch cafes, we feldom examine our fenfa- tions fo accurately, as to be able to refer each of them to its origin. We carelefsly look upon the external form as the fole caufe of our pleafure, though probably it had very little effed in occa- (ioning it ; or we afcribe the difguft and dilTatis- fadion which fprung from unfeen fources, to an external appearance, which, had it not been for other circumflances, would probably not have difpleafed us. When men are placed in fituations in which their paflions are altogether uninte- refted, they difcover little variety in their judg- ments conx:erning beauty and fublimity. The rainbow and the morning iky, have called forth the fame fenfations in all ages. The parterre of modern times, exhibits the fame flowers thai vvere cultivated by former generations : The formp, of human beauty which charmed the remote ager; of antiquity, tranfmitted to future times by the art of the flatuary, are flill looked upon as patterns of excellence. Tafte, then, is not fo arbitrary a matter as fome would pretend. It has principles which M3 19© On ^lalit'm of Inanimate Objeds. are univerfally admitted, though, like the princi- ples of morals themfelves, they may be prevented by certain circumflances, from operating with fuch force as to determine the will. — Now, fmce there are certain external objeds which univer- fally appear agreeable, there muft be certain qua- lities in thefe objeds fitted for exciting agreeable fenfations in the mind. I'he feniations of beauty and fublimity are exceedingly different in their nature. The one of them is gay, and the other folemn. The objcds, therefore, which excite them, mufl neceffarily pofTefs very different qua- lities. But there muft be one or more qualities that are common to all beautiful objeds, and one or more qualities of a different nature, that are common to fublime objeds. The objeds belong- ing to each of thefe clafTes are infinitely diverfified ; and unlefs there were at leaft one property that runs univerfally through them, they could not produce the fam.e effed upon the mind. If we could difcover the common qualities which belong to ever^ thing that is beautiful, it might be eafy, by analogical obfervations, to point out the common qualities belonging to every other clafs of agreeable external objeds. With this view, I fhall make a few remarks on beauty of colour and figure. That fome colours are more agreeable to the jeye than others, is a fad too evident to be call- On J^alities of Inanimate ObjeBs, 191 ed In quefljon. Every perfon is more pleafed with the verdure which clothes the vegetable king- dom, than with the dlilky or ferrugineous hue of fome impure foffils. It does not however appearj that any one fhade of vegetable green is, in itfclf, either agreeable or difagreeable. No uniform co- lour feems to be in any degree beautiful. In all agreeable colouring, there are different ihades united infenfibly with one another. The different ihades prefent to the mind a whole, in which every part is conne6led with the reft, and fubferr vient to them. The verdure of nature feems to be the moft gay and cheerful of all colours. It is equally removed from the fiercenels of the red, and the languor of the violet. The furfaces on which it is ufually feen, are fmooth and glolfyo Hence the different lights exhibit upon them, all the fhades of this colour, from that which ap- proaches the blue to that which joins the yellow, infenfibly connected with one another. At the fame time, no one fhade occupies fo large a fpace as to be contemplated by itfelf, feparately from the Ihades conneded with it, Thele two circumftances of infenfible connection, and quick iucceffion among the different ihades, feem to be the caufe that this colour upon vegetables is fo highly agreeable, as all acknowledge it to be. By means of the infenfible and uninterrupted con- nection which fubufls among the different fhades, it aifumes the appearance of a regular whole, and enters the mind with the greateft facility. The M4 192 On ^alities of Inanimate ObjeSfs, quicknefs of the (uccefTion occafions the gaiety of the leniation. When the mmd broods over a fingle thought, it is in a folemn (rate ; but when a variety of objects, lo united as not to embarrafs It, are prefented before it, it is gay and cheerful. Similar ob'ei vations may be made on all the other beautiful colours. From thefe remarks, we are enabled to ex- plain the reafon why rough furfaces are not near- ly fo agreeable as thofe which are fmooth. A rough fur/ace has an appearance almoft uniform, in refped of colour ; but a glofly fmoothnefs exhi- bits a great variety of fhades ; for the different parts of it do not refied the fame colours to the eye. There is, however, another circumflance to be taken into conlideration. A fmooth furface ex- hibits an unbroken connexion of parts ; but a rough furface has no unity : Its parts are disjoint- ed and feparated like a heap of fand, and there is no connexion among them except contiguity. From the reafbns which have been explained, the colours on filk are more beautiful than thofe upon cloth. The fmooth glolTy furfiice appearing in diff rent pofitions with regard to the eye, and rcfi-cling different lights, difplays the colour im- menfely varied in the degrees of its (Irength. The great variety and infinite changes of colour up- on the neck of a pigeon, produce their wonder- ful effedl from the fame caufes. The vafl arch of the rainbow flrikes us principally with fenti* ments of iublimity , yet a imall fedion of it is ex« On ^alities of Inanimate ObjeSfs. 1 93 c^edingly beautiful. In it all the colours, in their different degrees of flrength, are feen infenfibly running into one another ; while no one ihade oc- cupies fo much fpace as to arreft the attention of the fpeclators. It is from the fame caufes, that the venis of marble, and the clouding of maho- gai y, excite the fenfation of beauty. In all thefe cales, there is an eafy and infenfible connection of diif^rent (hades. Their unity renders them eafily comprehended by the im.agination, and of Gonfequence agreeable ; while the rapidity with which they fucceed one another, prefents to the mind a variety of objects at once, and renders its emotions gay and lively. ^ There are certain objects fimilar to thofe which conftitute beautiful colouring, that are common to all beautiful figures. One figure is undoubt- edly preferable to another, independently of cuf- tom, education, or utihty. Even children con- fider one fhape as more agreeable than another, for they always prefer regular figures to thofe which are irregular ; and among thofe which are regular, they choofe a globular pebble rather than a cube. A uraight line has no beauty. It is a tedious repetition of the fame appearance v/ithout any variation, and coni'equentiy has no- thing enHvening in it. Its parts have no con- nection, except contiguity among themfelves. It does not make a whole, becaufe there is no rea- fon why it fhould be broken off at any one point rather than any other. But a waving ierpentine 194 ^^ ^alitles oflnanhnaU Objecls. line is remarkably beautiful, and has been ho« noured by Mr. Hogarth with the appell'.tion of the line of beauty. It does not appear, however, that this line can be traced in all beautiiul forms. It is undoubtedly wanting, not only in many ele- gant mathematical figures, but even in many fine ornaments of architedure. It may further be ob- ferved, that this line retains its beauty, only when it has no more than two bendings in oppofite direc- tions. Add another inflection to it, and it lofes its elegance. Extend it ftiil further into a regular ferpentine river, and it will appear nearly as for- mal as a flraight Hne. When confined to two bendings, in oppofite directions, it appears to be complete, all its parts are fubfervient to the whole ; but when produced, it ceafes to be a whole. It has no one determined length rather than another ; its parts have no dependence upon one another ; nor any connexion, except from contiguity. In all curve hnes, as well as this one, there is a great degree of beauty. The parts of which they are compofed, are fo intimately conneded with one another, that if one of them be taken away the figure ceaies to be a whole. There is a continual fucceffion of changes among the parts. The whole is eafily comprehended by the rnind, and, in con- fequence of the quick fucceffion of v/ell conne£ted parts, the emotion excited is gay and lively. A fmall circle, and an tUipfe, are illuilrations of thefe reii^arks. In a fpiral line or volute, the fuccef- fion of changes is iiill quicker than in either of On ^mliiies of Inanimate Ohjecls, 195 thefe, and on account of its gracefulnefs, it has been cholen as a principal ornament in fonie of the capitals in architedure. Though a ftraight line polTeiTes no beauty, yet there is a confiderable degree of beauty in fome reftihneal figures. Mr. Burke fays, he does not find a natural objed that is angular, and at the fame time beautiful. Indeed, few natural objeds, he fays, are entirely angular. He adds, *' but I think thofe which approach the mod: nearly to it are the uglieft, p. iii. §. 15." This obiervation does not feem to have been made with fuflicient attention. There is undoubtedly much beauty in the ramification of fome vegetables, though the infertion of the branches is angular. Cryftaliiza- tion is a vv^ork of nature, whereby angular bodies are formed, which unqueftionably polTefs much beauty. It is, however, undoubtedly true, that curvilineal figures are more agreeable than rectili- neal ones. A fquare is lefs beautiful than a circle. The parts of which it is compofed are connecied, as belonging to a whole ; but they are large and fevv, and Ao not follow one another in quick fuc- cefTion. The fenfation, therefore, has httle gaiety. Among triangles, the equilateral is more beautiful than any other ; becaufe angles of the fame fize make it appear a whole, from which nothing can be taken away, and to which nothing can be add- ed, without diflroyiiig the connedion and fubor- ^ination of its parts. Hence, painters are fond of 1^6 On ^alities of Inanimate Objeds* this figure in forming their groups, A hexagon is ftill more beautiful than an equilateral triangle. Its parts are equally well conneded, and equally lubfer- vient to the whole, fo that it is eafily comprehend- ed ; and there is a greater fuccefTion of parts to render the fenfation gay. Variety, however, has its limits. The mind perceives no beauty in thofe figures that are not dillindly comprehended. A figure, with fuch a number of fides as to confound our fenfes, will appear beautiful if it be regular ; but not fo beautiful as another figure equally re- gular, and having only fuch a number of parts as can be eafily comprehended by the mind. Mr. Burke has obferved, with great juflice, that a beautiful objedt mufl be fmall in its kind. This he has illuftrated from the fondling expreffions of all languages, which are diminutives. It alfo ap- pears from his inftances of beautiful objeds. A large figure is not fitted to excite a gay and live- ly fenfation. Its parts do not fucceed one ano- ther with rapidity. The mind has leifure to refl upon every one of them, and to contemplate it by itfelf The charader of the fenfation is of con- fequence grave. Befides the beauty of colour and figure, fome writers have fpoken of a kind of beauty which con- fxfts in motion. There is no doubt, but that 'niall bodies, in a certain degree of motion, arc n. ore agreealie than the fame bodies at refl. Every On ^alities of Inanimaie Obje&u 197 perfon beholds with pleafure the flight of the fwal- low, a fmall boat under fail, or a purling flream. All the additional pleafure, however, arifmg from this fource, may perhaps be accounted for from other caufes. Not to mention that motion often produces agreeable founds, and that it pleafes us by regularly fuggefling to us an adive caufe from which it proceeded, it may be obferved, that mo- tion exhibits an object in different lights, and dif- plays variety of colouring. It alfo generally de- fcribes a figure which we are able to trace, when the motion is not very flow ; and if the moticn be very rapid, the figure is almofl: the only thing we obferve, ■ for we are hardly fenfible of the motion. If we pay no attention to the human forms en- gaged in a dance, we have nothing to entertain us but the meafured ilep and the mazy figure : Thefe^ however, are agreeable. If we afcend from the fimpler to the more com- pounded forms, we may fl;ill trace the fame princi- ples. We fliall every where find eafily conneded and dependent parts, following one another in quick fuccefllon. The vegetable kingdom fur- niflies innumerable examples of them. Every ihrub that blows, exhibits the bounty of heaven in diffufing beauty, to dehght the eye and cheer the heart of man. The branches elegantly inferted in the trunk, are fpread out in a globular or coni- cal form, not regularly diredled by the line and the plummet, and the compafs, but bending with J98 On ^alltles of Inanhnate OhjeSls, cafy inflexions. The foliage prefents the various ihades of vegetable verdure. The bloflbms glow in the rich luxuriance of fpring, or the fruit dif- plays the mellow tints of autumn. Every part confpires to fill the mind with gay and lively fen- fations; while the connexion of the parts, and their mutual fubordination, render the form eafily com- prehended. Deflroy the figure by lopping off a principal branch, and every eye will perceive the defei!^. Let the Gothic pruner flretch his line upon it, and mould it with his fciifars into a rude image of fome Egyptian pyramid, or of fome liv- ing creature, and we lament that it is no more. Adam and Eve in yew, and the ferpent in ground- ivy, will pleafe no perfon who can rehfh the beau- ties of nature. Such fantailical reprefentations were indeed once common, fo that, as Mr. Pope propofes, any gentleman might have had his lady's effigies in myrtle, or his own in hornbeam. This was one of the caprices of fafhion which lafled for a fhort time, but at laft gave way to a jufler and more natural tafle. The mofl noble illuilration of the qualities which conflitute beauty, is the human countenance. A confiderable part of the excellence which dif- tinguifhes a fine face^ confifls in the form and complexion. The agreeable qualities which ap- pear in inanimate nature, fhlne forth here in great effulgence. It muft, however, be allowed, that the principal excellence of the human fat:e On ^alities of Inanimate OhjeSIs, 199 Gonfiils in the expreffion of heart and underfland- ing. Bat this is a topic which does not belong to the fubjed of this difcourfe. In forming our conceptions of beauty, it is pro- per to throw out of confideration every thing ex- cept colour and figure. It is by thefe alone that the fenfation is excited. There are many other circumftances befides beauty, which produce a- greeable fenfations, and which are, therefore, apt to introduce confufion into our apprehenfions» Some have fpoken of a beauty of utility, a beauty of fitnefs, a beauty of proportion, and other beau- ties of a like nature. We muff underftand them as fpeaking figuratively, if we form diflincl con- ceptions of beauty ; or we mufl imagine that their notions w^ere not accurate. An objed that is ufe- ful, is often more agreeable than an objed that is merely beautiful. But the ufeful objed is only agreeable from its fubferviency to fomething elfe, whereas the beautiful objed is agreeable upon its ov^^n account. The qualities, then, which occa- iion the agreeable fenfation in the one cafe, are entirely diftind from thofe which occafion it ia the other. Beauty and utility may, however^, often fubfifl in the fame objed ; and in that cafe, without doubt, the emotion excited by both caufes muft be much flronger than that excited by either of them feparately. A machine may be ufeful,. its conftrudion may be beautiful, and the tv/o qualities, thus united, may produce a greater effed: 200 0)1 ^alifies of Inan'wiate Obje&s, than either of them by itfelf. But the qualities are entirely diflindl, though they may be thus combined. On the other hand, as the pleafure arifmg from beauty is encreafed by utility, fo it is diminilhed by what is hurtful. An object that poffeiTes the mod pleafmg form and colours, may appear deteftable, when we affociate its ap- pearance with pernicious eiFecls. Notwithflanding the beautiful variegations, and elegant form by which fome famihes of the ferpentine kind are dif- tinguiflied, many people are fo much prepolTelTed againll the whole race, on account of the venom- ous properties of a few fpecies, that they look upon them as really deformed. Our fenfe of beauty Is Influenced and perverted by many other confiderations befides utility. To an antiquary, an ancient gem appears more beautiful than a modern one, which is much better cut ; but though the feeling in his mind be exceedingly agreeable, in confequence of the aflb- ciations formed by means of his reverence for anti- quity, yet, if he be able to diflinguifh fairly, he will not afcribe all his pleafure to the intrinlic beauty of the objed. In the fame manner, cuf- tom may render a deformed object agreeable, or a beautiful objed lefs agreeable ; but flill beauty and deformity are in themfelves the fame, though they may not be attended to, or may be obfcured by other qualities. The fame remarks may be ap- plied to envy, refentment, and every other pafiioa On ^alities of Inanimate ObjeSls, 20 1 that has a tendency to render an objedl: more or lefs agreeable than it really is. The beautiful ob- ject is always more agreeable when fome other agreeable quality is combined with beauty ; and the deformed object becomes lefs difagreeable when its deformity is united with agreeable quali- ties. But beauty ou^ht carefully to be diflin- guifhed from every thing elfe that excites agree- able fenfations. It is a property of colour and figure alone, and belongs to nothing elfe in a pro« per fenfe. The obfervations which have been made con-^ cerning beauty, will lead us to diilincl concep- tions concerning fublimity. Among the objeds that are commonly denomi« nated fublime, there is evidently a great diverfity. Largenefs of dimenfion is, perhaps, the only pro- perty in which all of them agree. By this pro- perty, they are fufficiently diftinguifhed from beau- tiful objeds, none of which are large. Among the objects accounted fublime, the great, the folemn, and the terrible, are eafily diftinguifhed from one another. Of thefe only the firft has obtained a name exprelTive of its obje£t ; the other two are denominated from the effeds which they produce upon the mind. The fenfations excited in the mind by thefe three claiTes of fubhme objedls are confiderably different ; but all of them are diftin^ guifhed by their gravity, from the gay and lively N 202 On ^alitles of Inanimate Obje^s* fenfation of beauty. A gentle fwelling hill fs beautiful ; a lofty towering rock is fublime. In the fummer morning many beautiful appearance? attend the rifmg fun. The colouring of na- ture then refrefhed, the dew fparkling along the grafs, and the innumerable variegations of the iky, are cheerful and beautiful objects. But the fet- ting of the fun, when attended with dark fhape- lefs clouds, is fublime. The fucceilion of colours m fpring, and the cheerfulnefs of the green, are beautiful ; but the uniform dunnefs of the grove& m autumn, is very fublime. Of the three elafles of fublime obje£ls, that which excites the fenfation by greatnefs alone, has moll fimilarity to beauty. Grand objeds differ from thofe which are beautiful, in magnitude more than in any other particular. There is an evident diftindion among great objefts, taken from that dire6lion in which they are extended. In fome of them, there is a great level expanfe, as in the ocean. In others the objed is elevated to a great height, as is the cafe in a lofty mountain. In both cafes, the mind is filled with admiration ; and the cffeds are fo nearly fimilar, that though the two cafes are manifeftly different, it is hardly neceffary to confider them, at leaft in a general view, as ht line. They vary their dirtdion every monxcut, and they change under the eye by a deviation con- tinually carrying on ; but for vvhoie beginning or end you v/ill find it difFicuk to aicertain a poiLt. This oblcrvation he ill uftr ales by the figure oi a dove. Here we fee the head increafing inicnfiL'y to the middle, from whence it leliens gradually till it mixes with the neck. The neck lofes itielf in a large fwell, which continues to the middle of the body, v;hen the whole ciecrcafes again to the tail. The tail takes a new direction, but it focn varies its new courfe. it blends again with the Bta-ke^s Theory of Beauty » 1 1 9 other parts, and the line Is perpetually changing above, below, upon every fide. The bird is fmooth and downy ; the parts are, to ufe that ex- preflion, melted into one another ; you are pre- fented with no fudden protuberance through the whole, and yet the whole is continually changing. He further illuftrates the fame obfervation, from the mod ftriking inftance of it that occurs in na- ture, an elegant human figure. This is an opinion concerning beauty of figure, which was underftood, at lead in part, by Mr. Hogarth, and which he has endeavoured to illuf- trate in his analyfis of beauty. Mr. Hogarth ex- plains the gradual variation of outline, by fuppof- ing it, in all cafes, reducible either to a curve bend- ing in two diredions, defcribed upon a plain furface, in which the degree of curvature lies in the mid- dle between excefs and defeft ; or to another curve, defcribed by a line twifled in a fpiral direc- tion round a cone, and having the degree of its curvature in the fame happy flate of mediocrity. The degree of curvature that is mod beautiful is here left exceedingly indefinite ; but, perhaps, much precifion is not to be attained in matters of this fort. The principal defed of this theory is, that it is not applicable to all forms that are beau- tiful. Though in all of them there be infenfible variation of furface, the outline is not always re- ducible to curves of either of thefe kinds. As Mr. Burke has juftly obferved, there is no particular line 220 Burke^ s Theory of Beauty. that is always found in the mofl completely beaut> fal obje£ls. Mr. Burke has, undoubtedly, improved this 'opinion very much, by not confidering beau- ty as limited to any particular curve, but as con- fifling in gradual variation in general. The mod beautiful produdions of nature ov^e the greater Ihare of their beauty in fad, to the gradual and infenfible change that takes place in the pofition of their parts : And thofe who have been mod fuccefsful in beflowing the embellifliments of art, have been thofe who, in this refpecl, followed elofely after nature. The bed defigners in gar- dening, for inftance, have imitated the fwells and bendings which they obferved in the works of na- ture ; and have taught even their artificial flreams and walks, to wander in gentle curvatures, fo as to conceal from view the hand of art, from which they derived their origin. Thdugh variation in the conflituent parts of an objed be neceffary to conftitute beauty, and though that variation in the mofl beautiful figures be conducted by means of curve lines ; yet Mr. Burke feems to have pufhed the obfervation fur- ther than was necelTary, when he excludes alto- gether from the rank of beautiful objeds, all thofe which have angular connections of parts. " I do not find any natural obj,e6t,*' fays he, " which is angular, and at the fame time beautiful. Indeed, few natural objedls are entirely angular. But I think thofe which approach the mod nearly to it are Burke^s Theory of Beauty. i^ 2 1 t^e uglieft." — The ramification of vegetables are in general angular, and are in general beautiful ; and in fome of them the infertion of the branches is more beautiful than in others. The leaves of many plants are angular, yet they are beautiful. Cryf- tallization is a work of nature ; all the cryflals are angular ; and that they are produdions of confider- able beauty, feems to be univerfally acknowledged. An irregular objed which is angular, unqueftion- ably is not beautiful ; but a figure that is regular, that has its fides and angles all equal to one ano- ther, pofTeiTes a certain degree of beauty. A hexa- gon is a more beautiful figure than a trapezium. A folid figure contained by twelve regular pentagons, and having twelve equal angles, will, in the fame manner, be preferred by any fpedatar to a cube. The cube, however, has fome beauty, though in the degree of this quality which it polTefTes, it may be inferior to a globe. The degree of beauty which it pofTeiTes, cannot be fuppofed to be derived from any fimilitude it may be thought to have to a globe ; for in all refemblances that are manifefl- ly not perfect, the nearer they approach that with which they are to be compared, 'd .they be fall confiderably removed from it, the more ugly do they feem upon comparifon. The face and form in no fpecies of animals, To much refemble thofe of man, as in the monkey tribe ; but from this circumftance, they are generally reckoned amono^ ihe moil dilagreeable. 03 222 Burke* s Theory of Beauty, Thefe obfervations do not, in any degree, inva- lidate the general dodrine of Mr. Burke upon this fubjed. On the contrary, all appearances of this nature receive an eafy folution upon his principles ; and he had no occafion to exclude them on account of any inconfiflency they woulds- have introduced. We mufl therefore fuppofe, that they had not occurred to him. Gradual vari- ation is neceflary in beautiful objeds, to produce a lively fenfation ; and this variation is certainly moft perfect, when it is continued every moment without interruption. Irregular breaks are incon- fnlent with it, and every angular tranfition that has not a relation to fomething, and for which no manifefl reafon appears. But if the figure be a whole, with correfpondent parts, the fides and angles are limilar to one another ; and the tran- fitions from one flraight line to another, though not fo infenfible as in the fweep of an uniform curve, fucceed each other according to a diftind: and evident rule, and are eafily comprehended by the mind. We can follov/ fuch variations in con- sequence of the connection eftablifhed among all the feveral parts of the whole, without any con- ception of interruption ; and nearly with as little exertion, and with as much rapidity, as even the variations of a curve line. The agreeable quality,, therefore, in the one clafs of thefe objects, is of the fame nature with that which recommends the t)ther. Burke^s Theory of Beauty, 223 The fourth property which Mr. Burke find^ la beautiful objeds, is delicacy ; by which he uuder- flands that quaHty which is oppofed to robuft- nefs and (Irength. " An appearance of delicacy," he fays, " and even of fragility, is almod eflential to beauty." He accordingly produces various in- ftances of delicate objeds, which, without contro- verfy, are agreeable. — I apprehend, howcv.rr, that the beauty which is really in all of them, does not arife from their delicacy, but from other qualities conneded with delicacy : And that fome of them are, befides, recommended to us by other confi- derations, which frequently produce upon us a much more powerful effect than even beauty itfelf. " It is not the oak," he obferves, " the afh, or the elm, or any of the robufh trees of the foreft, which we confider as beautiful ; they are awful and majeftic ; they infpire a fort of reverence. It is the delicate myrtle, it is the orange, it is the jefTamine, it is the vine, which we look on as ve- getable beauties." The effed in thefe cafes, is certainly jufl w^hat it is reprefented to be. But the oak, the afh, and the elm, are not confidered by us as grand objeds, merely becaufe they have ftrength to fupport themfelves, and even to with- fland the tempefl : Nor are the myrtle, the jelTa- mine, and the vine, confidered as beautiful, merely becaufe they would fall to the ground unlefs they were born up by fomething which is ftronger than themfelves. In matters of this nature, there are many other circumflances which ought to be taken 04 4 24 Burke's Theory of Beauty. into confideration. " Beauty," it is obferved by the author himfelf, " is inconfiflent with great mag- nitude ; and it cannot, in fad, fubfift in any ob- jed of fuch a iize as prevents the quick variation of the parts of which they are compofed. It can- not, therefore, belong to the lofty trees oi the foreft ; all of which, if they be well formed, con- tinue in thefaroe diredion for a long Ipace, with- out any deviation. On the other hand, it is a quality that perfedly corrcfpondb with the fmall dimenfions, the tapering form, and the ek<>a:;t- ly twifted diredion of creeping and climbing ihrubs." Delicacy, hov/ever, does not, in thefe cafes, conftitute beauty ; but is requifite for pro- ducing that form in thoie plants that have been mentioned, in which beaut) rtfides : For if tliey had been robufl, their figure wou;d have been different from what it is. Bef des, there are other particulars in the fhrubs above n cntioned, which contribute remarkably to render them beautitul ; fuch as the ever-green leaves of the myrtle ; the trumpet-fhared flcwert of the jefiamine, with its elegant foliage ; and the who c array of the vine. The next inftance of delicacy, is in flowers. ^' It is the flowery fpecies," lays this eminent aut thor, " fo rerarkabie for its weaknefs and mo- mentary duration, that gives us the livelieft idea of beauty and elegance." It is, however, in this illiiftration aicne, ths^ he lays af de the accu- rate notion of beauty, which he had formed as Burke* s Theory of Beauty. 225 applicable only to figure and colour. In this in- ftance, he takes into confideration things of a very different nature. He reprefents the pleafure we receive from obferving beautiful flowers, as depending upon the reflections we form concern- ing their weaknefs, and fhort duration. — The fhort exiftence and tranfient beauty of flowers, have flruck men in all ages. The life of man, and the vanity of his purfuits, have been fitly compared to a bloffom which blows to-day, and to-morrow decays and withers. But is this the reflection by which the beauty of flowers is re- commended to us ? Does any one think a rofe or a carnation beautiful, becaufe it is of fhort duration ? This may be a circumftance which he regrets : But he regards fomething in the flower itfelf which he thinks valuable ; and it is upon the perfuafion that this quality which he regards is loon to be no more, that his regret is founded. Flowers difl:inguifhed for beauty, though they were to be as lafling as the ftars in the firmament, would preferve, Hke them, their claim to diflinc- tion. — '• Among animals," continues this agree- able theorift, " the grey-hound is more beautiful than the mafliff ; and the delicacy of a gennet, a barb, or an Arabian horfe, is much more ami- able than the flrength or ftabiiity of fome horfes of war or carriage." In this inftance, the figni- fication of the term, delicacy feems to be altered. It was formerly oppofed to flrength. But what 15 the befl indication of flrength in proportion to 226 Burke's Theory of Beauty, fize, or quantity of matter? It is undoubtedly exertion. Now the grey-hound or race-horfe are certainly capable of more exertion than the mafliff or beafl of burden. They have, there- fore, more ftrength in proportion to their magni- tude. But, independent of this confideration, we may remark flill further, that it is the figure folely or chiefly, which in thefe inftances, conflitutes the difference. The gradual variation, formerly mentioned, is more obfervable in the fhape of the one clafs of objeds, than in the other. Nor, in general, is ever the conception of ftrength taken into the confideration of an ordinary obferver. The laft inftance produced by Mr. Burke, in order to confirm his opinion, that delicacy is one of the conftituents of beauty, is derived from the human fpecies. " The beauty of women,'' he fays, " is confiderably owing to their weaknefs and delicacy ; and is even enhanced by their timi- dity, a quality of mind analogous to it." In this cafe too, certain circumftances are mentioned, which are, in their own nature, unconneded with beauty. Weaknefs and timidity, are qualities by which another perfon may be recommended to our protedion. One in a defencelefs flate, even though expofed to no adual danger, is in fome meafure an object of compafTion, and confeqent- ly of attachment. Weaknefs and timidity are not in themfelves agreeable qualities. In a foldier we would confider them with contempt, if ^ot Barkers Theory of Beauty. U27 with indignation. But we expe£t no a^live cou- rage, and mafculine entei pi ue, in a woman. Feeble- nefs and timidity are not inconfiflent with thofe qualifications which we exped in her : Of con- fequence, they are fo far from exciting aver- fion, that they call forth thofe fentiments by which we are attached to the defencelefs. Befides all this, they are to be confidered as qualities of mind ; and are, in ftrid propriety of language, altogether unconneded with beauty. If mental qualifications were to be brought into view upon this fubjed:, it would be an eafy matter to produce feveral that would entirely eclipfe any excellence which depends upon colour and figure. Delicacy of form feems connected with human beauty, no farther than as it is the fhape that is mofl beauti- ful, from other confiderations. The broad fquare fhoulders, the large bones, the well-defined muf- cles, and athletic flrudure, of a very flrong man, are not beautiful. The feveral parts are not melt- ed down, and blended infenfibly with one ano- ther, but are joined by abrupt connexions. There is not that gradual 'variation which beauty requires. Mr. Burke himfelf feems to be fenfi- ble, that delicacy alone will not render an objed: beautiful : For in the following pafTage, he exprefs- ly excludes the cafe in which it muft operate with greateil force. " I would not be underflood to fay, that weaknefs betraying bad health, has any Ihare in beauty ; but the ill effed of this is not becaufe it is weaknefs, but becaufe the ill ftate 225 Eurke^s Theory of Beauty, ef health which produces fuch weaknefs, alters the other conditions of beauty ; the parts, in fuch a cafe, collapfe ; the bright colour, the lu?nen pur- fureum jiiventa is gone ; and the fine variation is loft in wrinkles, fudden breaks, and right-lines." — Here the matter is put upon the proper footing : Delicacy is of no confequence in beauty, unlefs it be united with the other conditions ; and inde- pendently of any regard to it^ the other condi- tions conftitute beauty. The laft circumftance which Mr. Burke men- tions as an ingredient in beauty, is colour. With refpect to the beauty of colour, he makes three obfervations. — Firft, " the colours of beautiful bodies muft be clear, and fair, and bright." — Secondly, " they muft not be of the ftrongeft kind. Thofe," he obferves, " which feem moft appropriated to beauty, are the milder of every fort ; light greens, foft blues, weak whites, pink reds, and violets." — Thirdly, " if the colours be ftrong and vivid, they are always diverfified, and the object is never of one ftrong colour. There are almoft always fuch a number of them, as in variegated flowers, that the ftrength and glare of each is confiderably abated." He adds an obfer- vation of more confequence than any of the three, which he has exprefsly enumerated ; and which, indeed, feems to render them almoft neceflTary. ^' The colours of a beautiful objeft," he fays, ^' are mixed in fuch a manner, and in fuch grar Biirke^s Theory of Beauty. 11^ dations, that it Is impoflible to fix the bounds. Hence the dubious colour in the necks and tails of peacocks, and about the head of drakes, is agreeable.'* — It is, in fad, the gradual variation, the imperceptible (hading of colours into one an- other, as I formerly obferved, that conftitutes their beauty. No uniform colour whatever, is really beautiful. If a body, uniformly coloured, appear beautiful, it is in confequence of the man- ner in which the furface of it is placed, with refpeft to the eye ; fo that the rays refleded from it are differently coloured ; and hence the colour, whatever it may be in itfelf, is varied to the fight of the beholder. The inftances of beau- tiful colours, enumerated by Mr. Burke, feem ta have been taken from filks, on which the gloffy furface refleds the rays in the greatefl diverfity ; but his obfervations are not equally applicable to furfaces that are not fo gloffy. Among the particulars enumerated by this ele- gant and philofophical critic, as conflituting beauty, gradual variation and colour feem to be all that are effential : And as beauty of fhape and colour may be accounted for upon the fame principles, gradual variation alone feems fufficient, if it be fuppofed that there is a connexion among the feveral parts that undergo the variation. But unlefs this connexion be pre-fuppofed, gradual variation alone does not conftitute beauty. A num- ber of objeds may be difpofed at equal diflances^ ^3o Burke' s Theory of Beauiy. increafmg in fize gradually ; but having no con- nexion, they have no beauty. The qualities of fmallnefs, fmoothnefs, and delicacy, are not effen- tial to beauty, or are only fubfervient to the eflential qualities. It mufl, however, be acknowledged, if we except Dr. Hutchefon, that Mr. Burke has done more to explain the nature of beauty diftindly, than any of his predeceffors who have purfued fuch inveftigations. DISCOURSE III. Concerning Dr* Hutcheson^s Theory of Beautt. IObferved In a preceding difcourfe, that vari- ous opinions have been entertained concern- ing the nature of beauty, according to which, it has no adual external exiftence ; but is merely a fenfation or judgment in us, occafioned by opini- on, prejudice, cuflom, or certain notions of fub- ferviency and utility. There have alfo been vari- ous opinions concerning beauty, according to which, it is the refult of certain properties or qua- lities inherent in the object itfelf, and which ren- der it beautiful, independently of any judgment concerning it, vv^hich cuilom may have introduced ; and alto independently of any end to which it may be adapted, or of any fitnefs, or any other relation that may fubfift between it and other things. 232 Hut chef on^ s Theory of Beauty. I alfo fuggefled fome obfervations on one of the mod celebrated, and mofl rational of thefe opinions ; namely, that of Mr. Burke, who regards beauty, " as a thing much too afFe6ting not to depend upon fome pofitive quality ;" and who concludes, *' that it is fome quality in bodies, ading mechanically upon the human mind, by the intervention of the fenfes.'^ He accordingly propofes to confider attentively, in what manner fenfible qualities are difpofed in fuch things, as by experience, we find beautiful, or which create in us the paffion of love, or fome correfpondent afFedion. The common qualities which may be remarked in all beautiful objects, Mr. Burke thinks, may be reduced to five. Such objeds, in the firft place, are fmall ; fecondly, they are fmooth ; thirdly, there is gradual variation in the parts of them \ fourthly, they are dehcate ; fifthly, they are of an agreeable colour. Without recapitulating the obfervations which were made upon each of thefe particulars ; I fhall make fome remarks upon another of the mod ce- lebrated opinions, according to which, beauty confifts in certain qualities inherent in the objed itfelfj independently of any fenfation or judgment in the mind of the fpedator ; namely, that of Dr. Hutchefon. This eminent philofopher had form- ed much jufter and more accurate conceptions Hutchefon^s Theory of Beauty, 233 concerning the nature of beauty, than any that had gone before him*- Thefe he has fully explain- ed in the firfl part of his " Inquiry into the Ori- ginal of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue." I am aware, at the fame time, that Dr. Hutchc- fon has exprefled himfelf in fuch a way, that one might be led to fufped that he did not confider beauty as belonging to the object itfelf ; but as being merely a fenfation in the mind. " Beauty, in corporeal forms,'' he fays, " is either origi- nal or comparative ; or, if any like the terms bet- ter, abfolute or relative. By comparative or re- lative beauty, he means only that which we per- ceive in objedls commonly confidered as imita- tions or refemblances of fomething elfe." Of this comparative or relative beauty, as it is called, there is no occafion to take any further notice ; becaufe, though imitation and refemblance are occafions of agreeable fenfations in us, they are fo exceedingly different from beauty, that they hardly feem to have any connexion with it ; and it is only concerning original or abfolute b&auty^ that the author entertained peculiar notions. Con- cerning this latter kind of beauty. Dr. Hutche- fon requires it to be obferved, " that by abfolute or original beauty, is not underftood any quality fuppofed to be in the object, which fhould of it- felf b^p beautiful, without relation to any mind which perceives it ; for beauty, like other names of fenfible ideas, properly denotes the perception 234 Uutchefon^s Theory of Beatdy, of fome mind ; fo cold, hot, fweet, bitter, denote the fenfations in our minds, to which, perhaps, there is no refemblance in the objeds which ex- cite thefe ideas in us, however we generally imagine otherwife. The ideas of beauty and har- mony being excited upon our perception of fome primary quahty, and having relation to figure and time, may indeed have a nearer refemblance to objeds, than thofe fenfations which feem not fo mtich any pidures of objeds, as modifications of the perceiving mind ; and yet were there no mind with a fenfe of beauty to contemplate ob- jedsj I fee not how they could be called beautiful.'* I confider this paflage in no other light, than as the author's proteftation of his general belief in Mr. Locke's dodrine concerning fecondary qualities, that they do not exifl in objeds, and are merely fenfations in our minds. If he had really believed that there is no beauty in the ob- jed itfelf, independently of the fpedator, his ac- count of it ought to have confifted in an analyfis, or illuftration of the fenfation excited in the mind ; and not in a fearch after the qualities in external things, by means of which it is regularly excit- ed. Upon thefe principles, he might as reafon- ably have inquired into the qualities of heat and cold, fweetnefs and bitternefs in the objed, which he believed did not exifl in it, as into the quali- ties which excite the fenfation of beauty. But he certainly did not confider the two cafes as parallel ; Hut chef orC s Theory of Beauty. 235 for he immediately proceeds to afcertain the qua- lities in objects which conftitute their beauty, and recommend them to the fpedtator ; and thofc qualities which he has adually fixed upon are of fuch a nature, that they mufl belong to the objedt equally, whether it be perceived or not ; and would have belonged to it inherently, though it had ne- ver been perceived. On this account, I look up- on Dr. Hutchefon's opinion upon this fubje6t as one of thofe, according to which beauty belongs to the objed, and does not depend upon any fen- fation or judgment in us ; notwithftanding his de- claration of his adherence to the philofophical doctrines which were at that period univerfaily em- braced. According to Df. Hutchefon, ** the figures which excite in us the ideas of beauty, feem to be thofe in which there is uniformity amidll varie- ty. What we call beautiful in objects, to fpeak in the mathematical ftile, feems to be in a com- pound ratio of uniformity and variety : So that where the uniformity of bodies is equal, the beau- ty is as the variety ; and where the variety is equal, the beauty is as the uniformity. This," he adds, with his ufual modefly, " may feem pro- bable, and hold pretty generally." In illuftration of this doctrine, he makes the following obfervations. — " Firft, the variety in- creafes the beauty in equal uniformity. The beauty of an equilateral triangle is lefs than that P5 S36 Hut chef on^s Theory of Beaufy, of the fquare ; which is lefs than that of a penta- gon ; and this again is furpalfed by the hexagon. When, indeed, the number of fides is much in- creafed, the proportion of them to the radius, or diameter of the figure, or of the circle, to which regular polygons have an obvious relation, is fa much loft to our obfervation, that the beauty does not always increafe with the number of fides ;. and the want of parallelifm in the fides of hep- tagons, and other figures of odd numbers, may alfo diminiih their beauty. So in folids, the eico- fihedron furpafles the dodecahedron, which is flill more beautiful than the cube ; and this again furpaifes the regular pyramid. The obvious ground of ihh is, greater variety with equal uniformity." " The greater uniformity increafes the beauty <^ amidft equal variety, in thefe inftances : An equi- lateral triangle, or an even ifofceles, furpafles the fcalenum. A fquare furpafles the rhombus or lozenge ; and this again, the rhomboides, which is ft:ill more beautiful than the trapezium, or any figure with irregular curve fides. So the regular folids furpafs all other folids of equal number of plain furfaces : And the fame is obfervable, not only in the five perfedly regular folids, but in all thofe which have any confiderable uniformity, as. cylinders, prifms, pyramids, obeliflcs ; which pleafe every eye more than any rude figures, where there: is no unity or refemblance among the parts.'* JIutcheforCs Theory of Beauty. 237 '" Inftances of compound ratio we have In com- paring circles or fpheres, with eUipfes or fpher- oids, not very eccentric ; and in comparing the -compound folids, the exodahedron, and eicofido- decahedron, with the perfedly regular ones of which they are compounded : And we fhall find, that the want of the mofl perfect uniformity ob- fervable in the latter, is compenfated by the great- er variety in the former," (he fhould have faid, by its greater variety,) " fo that the beauty is nearly equal." ^' The fame foundation," he obferves, " we have for our fenfe of beauty in the works of nature. In every part of the world which we call beauti- ful, there is a furprifmg uniformity amidfl an ^almdS: infinite variety." He proceeds to illuftrate this dodrine, from the pofition of the heavenly bodies in the circumference of a great fphere ; from their globular figure ; from their revolutions in elliptical orbits ; from the regularity of their motions, and the returns of their feafons. He alfo illuflrates it from the alternations of light and ihade, mountains and valleys upon the furface of this earth ; and alfo from the uniformity in the flrudure of all plants and animals, and from the diver fity of their different fpecies. This account of beauty is not very clear or precife. The exad meaning in which the term uniformity is to be underilood, is not diflindly P3 238 Hutchefon's Theory of Beauty, afcertalned. It is, indeed, obferved by the inge- nious author, that rude figures do not pleafe, becaufe there is no unity or refemblance among the parts. If by unity and refemblance among the parts, were to be underflood a clofe connec- tion among them, this property, united with va- riety, would, I think, amount nearly to the fame thing, with a quick fucceflion of the parts well connected ; which, upon a former occafion, I en- deavoured to illuftrate as the common property of all beautiful objedls. But neither Dr. Hutche- fon himfelf, nor any of his followers, fo far as I know, have exprefled themlelves in fuch a man- ner, as to give any ground for believing that this was his meaning. Dr. Hutchefon, from his applications of the term uniformity, appears to have confidered thofe objeds as uniform, the parfs of which refemble one another. Hence, he afcribes uniformity to the tribes of animals and of vegetables, from their agreement in certain common qualities ; in confequence of which, they are arranged in the fame general clafs. And he afcribes variety to the fpecies comprehended under the clafs, from the diverfities by which they are diflinguifhed. In this application, uniformity fignifies relemblance, or famenefs of properties. But in many cafes where there are ftrong refem- blances, and alfo confiderabie diverfities, there is Hut chef on^s Theory of Beauty, 239 aone of that quality which Dr. Hutchefon deno- minates abfolute or original beauty. Lizards, and frogs, and toads, refemble each other in many particulars, and aifo differ in feverak But many of them are void of abfolute beauty. Their re- femblances and diverfities may give pleafure to a contemplative natural hiftorian ; but it is a plea- fure connected with inveftigation, and not with the imagination. It is only comparative beauty that is obferved in fuch cafes, which is not, in leality, beauty at all. In the manner, therefore, in which the fubjed ihould be limited, I would confider uniformity only in that hght in which it can be applied, to what Dr. Hutchefon calls abfolute or original beauty. Here it is manifefl, that in every cafe where all the parts have a perfect refemblance to each other, no fenfation of beauty is excited. A flraight line continued for any length, has no beauty. It exhibits nothing that can call forth in the mind, any fenfation which is gay and lively. Uniformity, therefore, if it mean refemblance, cannot by itfelf conftitute beauty. This appeared very evident to Dr. Hutchefon ; and on this account, he alfociated uniformity with variety. When the two properties are thus combined, the meaning of the proportion, that beauty confifls in uniformity amidft variety, mud either be ; that in beautiful objects there mufl be a refemblance among the parts, but this refem- blance mufl; not be perfect : Or it mud be, that fome of the parts muit refemble each other, but P4 24® Huichefon^s Theory of Beauty, not the whole of them. Dr. Hutchefon and his followers feem fometimes to underftand the pro- pofition in the one of thefe fenfes, and fometimes in the other. When they fay that a circle is a beautiful figure, they mean that all its parts re- femble one another, becaufe every point in the circumference is equally diftant from the centre ; but as it is a vifible figure, all the parts of it do not feem to the eye which perceives them, perfedly to refemble one another. If the eye were in the centre of the circle, the circumference would ap- pear to be a ilraight line, and all its parts would exadlly refemble each other ) and therefore, it would have no beauty. But it is feen from a point without it, from which all its parts appear in pofitions different from one another. Though they refemble each other in their pofition with relation to the centre, they vary in their pofi- tion with regard to the eye. The refemblance, therefore, is not perfed, but admits of variety, and hence is beautiful. It is in this fenfe that the definition muft be tinderftood, when applied to regular mathemati- cal figures, and alfo when applied to beautiful colours. But in the fame fenfe, it cannot be ap- plied to certain other figures which have a confider- able degree of beauty ; to thofe, for inftance, which pleafe on account of their fymmetry. By fymmetry is undcrftood that refemblance which takes place an^cng the correfpondent parts of re- gular bodies. If one eye-brow be not perfectly Hut chef on* s Theory of Beauty. 241 like the other, there Is a want of fymmetry. But in all cafes in which beauty depends upon fym- metry, it is requifite that the whole of the parts Ihould not refemble one another. Only thofe which correfpond to each other muft refemble each other ; but there mufl be other parts which differ from them. If there be fymmetry in the arches of the eye-brows, fomething muft intervene that is different from thefe arches. If there be fymmetry in the front of a houfe, broken into three divifions, it is to be underftood that the middle part is different from the other two, and that only thofe parts which are to the right and the left of the middle part refemble each other ; but the refemblance between the correfponding parts muft here be perfed:. In this cafe, there- fore, if we fay that beauty confifts in uniformity amidft variety, we do not mean that there is a re- femblance which is not perfed among all the parts ; but we take the words in their other fignification, and mean that there is a perfed refemblance among fome of the parts, but not among the whole of them. According to this explanation of Dr. Hutche- fon's fyftem then, beauty confifts either in a re- femblance that is not perfect, among the feveral parts of an objeQ: ; or in a perfedt refemblance among fome of the parts, while there are other parts of the fame objed that are different from thefe. Whenever, then, the parts of an object are arranged in either of thefe ways, a fenfation of ft42 Hutchefon's Theory of Beauty, beauty fhould be excited. — Suppofe chips oi flone broken from a rock to be thrown together in a heap ; or pieces of coarfe gravel to be united, as they often are, by a cement of clay or calcare- ous matter ; all the various parts of the heap, or of the rude mafs, refemble each other in con- texture, colour, and the greater number of their properties : But there is abundance of variety in their figure and fize. They have, therefore, the constituent qualities of beauty. The heap, or the mafs, hov^^ever, that is made up of thefe ingre- dients, has no beauty at all. The reafon is obvi- ous. None of the figures are beautiful in them- felves. If, therefore, there were any beauty in the aggregate, it mufl arife from the connedion which fubfiils among the feveral parts. In the cafes fuppofed, there is no bond of connedion but con- tiguity, which is not clofe enough to conflitute beauty. Even though there were a clofe connec- tion, and though a fenfation of beauty, were oc- cafioned by it, flill it could not be accounted for on the principles of this fyflem, which requires only uniformity and variety in the objeds them- felves, without requiring connedion of any fort among them, Suppofe again, a variety of irregular bodies, fome of them having a perfed refemblance to one another, and fome of them having no fuch re- femblance, to be prefented to the eye, they would not neceifarily excite a fenfation of beauty. A HutchefoTL s Theory of Beauty. 243 particular difpofition and arrangement of them would be further requifite ; and after all, the effect would not in every cafe be produced. Thefe properties alone then, do not conflitute the whole of beauty, fmce they may exift with- out rendering the objed to which they belong beautiful. No aggregate whatever of objects that are ugly, v/hatever uniformity and variety may be introduced among them, will ever appear beautiful. In order to account for beauty upon this fyflem, it is necelTary to fuppofe, that the ob- jects among which uniformity and variety occur, be not in themfelves ugly ; which is a condition not affumed, and which could not well be aiTum- ed, becaufe it would be accounting for the beau- ty of an object, by pre-fuppofnig that it had no- thing in its conftruction inconfiftent with beauty. — It mull be acknowledged, that there is uniformi- ty united with variety in many of thofe forms that are denominated beautiful ; but every obje£t does not appear to be beautiful, in which there is uni- formity mixed with variety. It may be further obferved, that this theory feems to be defedive in another refped. It in- troduces tv/o principles of a very different nature, to account for beauty. As it is not pretended that cither of them, by itfelf, will render an objed beautiful, the refult mufl depend upon the union px combination of them. It cannot be imagined. 244 Huichefon^s Theory of Beauty. that every combination of them fhould be equally well fitted for producing the efFed. It ought there- fore to be determined, whether an objed is mod beautiful when uniformity prevails in the combin- ation, or when variety has the afcendant ; and what meafure of each may, with propriety, be intro- duced. Unlefs fomething of this fort be done, the whole matter is left in a very vague and unfettled flate. There is no objedl in nature, whofe parts do not bear fome refemblance to each other, and in which, therefore, fome uniformity may not be obferved ; and there are few in which there may not be pointed out fome degree of variety. It is not, therefore, any degree whatever of thefe qualities that conftitutes beauty ; but fome parti- cular combinations. Thefe combinations ought, therefore, to be marked out ; not, indeed, with mathematical accuracy, which in matters of this fort cannot be attained, and ought not to be de- manded ; but as comprehended between certain limits that can be tolerably afcertained. This does not feem to be done in a fatisfadory man- ner, by faying that beauty confifts in a compound ratio of the two qualities, and the perfedion of the one compenfates for the deficiency of the other. Some of thefe objedions to Dr. Hutchefon's doc- trine had occurred to Lord Kaims ; and he has dat- ed them with his ufual acutenefs, in the chapter of Ifhe Elements of Criticifm, concerning uniformity Hut chef on' s Theory of Beauty, 245 and variety. This definition, to wit, " beauty con- fifts in uniformity amidfl variety," he obferves, how- ever applicable to one or other fpecies, is far from being jufl, with refpefl to beauty in general. — Numberlefs are the beautiful objects of fight, which have Httle or no variety in them. A globe, the mod uniform of all figures, is alfo the mod beau- tiful ; and a fquare, though more beautiful thaa a trapezium, hath lefs variety in its conftituent parts. The foregoing definition, which at beft is but obfcurely exprelTed, is only applicable to a number of obje^b in a group, or in fuccefTion ; among which, indeed, a due mixture of uniformi- ty and variety is always agreeable, provided the particular objecls^ feparately confidered, be in any degree beautiful ; for uniformity amid variety, among ugly objects, affords no pleafure. This circumflance is totally omitted in the defini- tion ; and, indeed, to have mentioned it, would at the very firfl glance, have (hewn the defini- tion to be imperfed ; for, to define beauty as arif- ing from beautiful objeds, blended together in a due proportion of uniformity and variety, would be too grofs to pafs current, as nothing can be more inaccurate than to employ in a definition, the very term which is to be explained. At the fame time, Lord Kaims does not hefitate to adopt this doctrine in part, efpecially in illuflrating the beauty of nature. l^x, Hutchefon himfelf feems to have been 246 Hutche/on^s Theory of Beauty, aware of fome difficulties attending the opinion which he had embraced ; and accordingly mentions it with diffidence, as extending to a great part of beautiful objedts ; though he does not pofitive- ly hold it out as including the whole of them. *' This" he fays, " may feem probable, and hold pretty generally." He appears in fad, to have formed his notions at fir ft from the beauty of fome mathematical figures ; and he afterwards found it no eafy matter to accommodate them to the beauty which appears in the ftrudure of vege- tables and animals. He obferves with great truth, that there is much uniformity among plants, in the manner of their growth and propagation ; that there is a near refemblance among vegetables of the fame fpecies, though their numbers furpafs imagination. In the infinite number of leaves, fruit, feeds, and flowers, of any one fpecies, there is a great uniformity in the ftru61:ure and fitu- ation of the fmalleft fibres. All this is true ; and it fhews undeniably, that there is uniformity as well as variety, in the feveral fpecies of vegetables. There is obfervable among them much regularity and order, and other indications of defign and wife intention. But this is foreign to the fubjed ; for it is in individuals, and not in whole claffes of objeds, that beauty is perceived. How does it follow that an individual is a beautiful objed, from the fimilarity which takes place among the various individual objeds that conftitute the fpe- cies ? It is not the order and the regularity ob- HiLtchefov! s Theory of Beauty. 247 fervable in the whale fpecies, but the beauty per- ceived in the individual, which is to be accounted for. The uniformity and variety fhould be found in the parts of the individual, and not among the innumerable individuals contained under the fpe- cies ; for beauty is not properly a quality of ab- ftrad conceptions, but of vifible things. Though there is as much fimilarity and diverfity among am- phibious animals, as among birds ; it does not fol- low that a toad is as beautiful a creature as a pi- geon. Some theory like that of father BufEer, which founds our notions of beauty in what is moil com- mon, and at the fame time mod: rare in the fpecies, would feem here to be necelfary, in order to fup- ply the deficiency. That might be accounted moil beautiful to which we are moft accullomed in any particular fpecies. But Dr. Hutchefou was too good a philofopher to patch up a fyftem with any fuch hypothefes. With regard to animals, Dr. Hutchefon makes obfervations fimilar to thofe he had made re- fpedling plants, from the unity of mechanifni that appears in their feveral claffes, and the great diverfities which are at the fame time to be found among them. His obfervations upon this fub- jed, are liable to the fame objedions that have been made to thofe concerning plants, from the difficulty of accounting for the beauty of indivi- duals. In animals, however, it mufl be acknow- ledged, that the doftrine which accounts for beau- %4^ Hutchefon's Theory of Beauty, ty, from uniformity joined to variety, has fewer difficulties to encounter than in plants ; becaufe in the fame animal there are parts perfectly refem- bling each other, and correfponding to each other, with a degree of regularity not to be met with in vegetables. There is fymmetry in the fl'-ucture of the whole form. " In each indivi- dual," fays he " how univerfal is that beauty which arifes from the exad refemblance of all the external double members to each other ; which feems the univerfal intention of nature, when no accident prevents it." We fee that the want of this refemblance never fails to pafs for an imper- feftion and want of beauty, though no other in- convenience enfues, as when the eyes are not ex- adly alike, or one leg or arm is a little fhorter or fmaller than its fellow. Symmetry, in cafes of this nature, fails in exadbly with the general no- tion which the author of the Inquiry endeavours to fupport ; but the other circumflance of general refemblance in the whole fpecies, and of particu- lar diverfity in the feveral beings which conftitute the whole, is of no value in explaining the beauty which we meet with in individuals. Dr. Hutchefon, fenfible that fome other quality befides uniformity and variety, is nccelfary to ac* count for beauty, has introduced proportion, by way of fupplement to his obfervations upon the beauty of animals ; without having foimerly an- nounced it as one of the conflituents of beautj*^ Hutchefin' s Theory of Beaid^, 249 and without reprefenting it, after it is intrcduced as an unlverfal ingredient. " There is a beauty in animals," he fays, " arifing from the propor- tion of the various parts to each other, which flill pleafes the fenfe of fpeclators, though they cannot calculate it with the accuracy of a flatuary.** I mention this addition to the fyftem, merely as marking the author's own conviction that his fyflem was incomplete. The manner in which proportion pleafes, cannot be accounted for frora uniformity and variety. Proportion is difcerned by the underilanding, and not by the imagination. Beautiful objects exiil in all proportions, and there are many objects proportioned to one another that have no beauty. It has been clearly fhewn by Mr. Burke, that proportion is not at all an ob- jed: of talle ; and I have nothing to add to his mailer ly remarks upon this fubjecl. Dr. Hutchefon, with great judgment, diftln- guifhes from beauty certain agreeable appearances which are frequently confounded with it. " The mod powerful beauty,*' he obferves, " in airs, geftures, motions, ariles from fome imagined in- dication of morally good difpofitions of mind." "There is alfo a beauty in figure," he obferves, " as it is a natural indication of flrength." Thefe he very properly palTes over, as fomething diilinct from beauty in its ftricl fignification. There is nothing properly beautiful in external things that has not intrinfic value in itfelf, independently of ,2^0 Kutchefon^s Theory of Beauty. all relation to other things. Thofe things that pleafe becaufe they are the indications or expref- fions of other things that are good, but different from themfelves, produce the delight they occa- fion in a way that is not fo immediate as that which is produced by beauty. The very ingenious author of this fyflem might have faved himfelf fome trouble, as well as fecur- ed himfelf from a number of objedions that have been flarted againfl his doctrine, if he had carried his diftindions a little farther than he has done ; if he had obferved that it is only to vifible figure and to colour that beauty is properly afcribed ; and that when we apply it to general theorems and to virtue, it is only in a figurative fenfe. He has not, however, carried his diftindions fo far ; lor he endeavours to account for beauty, in general theorems and in virtue, upon the fame principles with external beauty. But it is need- lefs to follow him into thofe cafes, in which the application of his principles, from the nature of the thing, can only be analogical, and where the analogy itfelf is very remote* It ought to be remembered, to the honour of Dr. Hutchefon, that he has treated of this fub- jed in a much more philofophical manner than any that had gone before him ; and many who have fucceeded him, have done little more than copy him. He had no model but Mr. Addifon's Hutchefon* s Theory of Beauty. 251 papers on the Pleafures of Imagination, which are beautiful and elegant effays, and contain many excellent reflections, and dired the attention to many inftances of agreeable objects ; and which, when considered as a firfl effort to arrange the objects of talle, are truly wonderful ; but which aim at no metaphyfical refearch. Dr. Hutchefon was the firfl who explained, with any degree of diftinctnefs, thofe faculties of the human mind that are connected with accurate difcernment and judgment in the fine arts. <^^ DISCOURSE IV. Remarks upon the Sensations occafioned by Grani> and by Terrible Objects, THE character of the fcnfations which are ex- cited by objeds that are grand, is efTenti- ally difierent from the charader of the fenfations which are excited by objeds that are beautiful. The fenfation which is occafioned by beauty is gay and cheerful ; that which is occafioned by grand objects, is folemn and elevating. A beau- tiful objedl attracts u* towards it, and infpires us with love : A grand objed likewife attrads us ; but we are involuntarily reflrained from approach- ing very near it, and are filled with admiration. Largenefs of dimenfion, though effential to gran- deur, does not conftitute it, nor does it excite by itfelf any emotion of fublimity. A flraight line produced to any given length, will never occafiou in the mind of the fpedator any agreeable fenfa- Grand and Terrible ObjeSls. ^253 tion. An irregular mafs of building may have great dimenfions without any grandeur. An ill- built village may occupy the furface of the terra- queous globe, with its flraggling houfes, for the ex- tent of a mile ; and yet from no point of view be fitted to excite any fentiment of grandeur. A tree, with few branches and thin foliage, may fpring up to the height of a fhip's mad ; or a white cloud may pafs over our head, at a great diflance from the furface of the earth ; and yet the mind of the fpedator may be altogether unaffected by them. In fuch cafes there are large dimenfions ; but it cannot be faid with any propriety, that there is any thing grand or fublime. In order to excite agreeable fenfations, it is not enough that great extent be exhibited to the eye. It is further re- quifite, that there fhould be certain qualities which are proper obje£ls of internal perception. The fentiments of Mr. Addifon upon this fub- jed are well founded. "By greatnef«," fays he, " I do not only mean the bulk of a-ny fingle ob- ^ed, but the largenefs of a whole view, confider- ed as one entire piece. Such are the profpecls of an open champaign country, a vafl uncultivated defert ; of huge heaps of mountains, high rocks and precipices ; of a wide expanfe of water, where we are not (truck with the novelty or beauty of the fight, but with that rude kind of magnificence which appears in many of the ilupendous w^orks of na- ture. Our imagination loves to be filled with an 0.3 ^54 Grand and Terrible Obje&s, objed, or to grafp at any thing that is too big for its capacity. We are flung into a pleafing aftonifhment at fuch unbounded views, and feel a delightful ftillnefs and amazement in the foul at the apprehenfion of them. The mind of man na- turally hates every thing that looks like a reftraint upon it y and is apt to fancy itfelf under a fort of confinement, when the fight is pent up in a narrow compafs, and fhortened on every fide by the neigh- bourhood of walls or mountains. On the con- trary, a fpacious horizon is an image of liberty, where the eye has room to range abroad, to exr patiate at large on the immenfity of its views, and to lofe itfelf amidft the variety of objeds that offer themfelves to its obfervation. Such wide and un- determined profpeds are as pleafing to the fancy, as the fpeculations of eternity or infinitude are to the underltanding. But if there be a beauty or uncommonnefs joined with this grandeur, as in a troubled ocean, a heaven adorned with ftars and meteors ; or a fpacious landfcape, cut put into rivers, woods, rocks, and meadows ; the pleafure Hill grows upon us, as it arifes from more than a fmgle principle." There have been periods, however, during 5vhich men have aded as if they had believed that magnitude alone conftitutes grandeur. Seve- ral of the immenfe flrudures that were ereded in early ages by the nations of the eaft, appear to have exhibited very little in reality, that could im- Grand and Terrible Objeds, 255 prefs the mind with fentiments of fublimity. The pyramids of Egypt were buildings of prodigious fize ; and probably the tower of Babel was a work of dimenfions, even fuperior to them. But the pyramids, according to the accounts that are given of them, have no grandeur that is propor- tionable to the labour they have coft. They feem to be imitations of mountains, and we are aftonifhed when we refle(^ that they were ereded by human power ; but whenever we compare them to mountains, their grandeur is loft, and they become merely diminutive objects. The temple of Jupiter Belus at Babylon, rofe, it is faid, a mile in perpendicular height ; but we have no reafon to beheve that its grandeur was at all pro- portioned to its fize. The wall of China forms the barrier of a very extenfive empire, and is it- felf a ftupendous piece of workmanfhip ; yet we never heard that it excited any fenfations of fu- blimity in the minds of travellers. It is a mound of vaft extent ; but every man has feen much greater mounds raifed by the hand of nature, than the portion of this huge mafs that can at any time fall under his eye. The expectation of pro- ducing grandeur by bulk alone, is now known to be idle, and accordingly no artill entertains it. It is juftly ridiculed in the well known epitaph upon a celebrated archited, though perhaps with more feverity in the application of it than there was reafon for : Q.4 s.^6 Grand and Terrible Objeds. Lie heavy on him, eartli ; for he Laid many a heavy load on thee. Though magnitude alone, however, does not conflitute grandeur, it is eflential to it. A fmall objed never excites the elevating and folemn fen- timents of fublimity j nor does it ever occafion any grave fenfation, unlefs when the imagination is imprefled by fomething concomitant, but alto- gether different from the object itfelf. An objecl:, in order to excite fublime fentiments, pufl not only have large dimenfions, but its parts mufl be difpofed of with fome degree of order. Whenever there is confufion and intricacy, the effed produced upon the mind is not agreeable. The regularity, however, which is requifite, is not that which is meafured by the level, the plummet, the line, and the compafs ; it is only that which arifes from the mutual relations and fubferviency of the feveral parts. A grand objeft, as well as a beautiful objed, mufl be confidered as a whole, confifling of various parts conneded with one an- other, and all of them capable of being readily viewed in the relation in which they fland to the whole. Thefe parts mufl be difpofed in order, fo that their mutual dependencies may be perceived. In all cafes where fuch connexion and fubfer- viency cannot be difcerned, the feveral parts can pnly be regarded feparately, as if they were dif- ^ind and detached objeds 5 and the aggregate ox Grand and Terrible Obje^s. 2^f^ aflemblage that is made up of the disjointed ma- terials, is not fitted to occafion any agreeable fcn- fation. As the relation of the parts to the whole and to one another, mufl be perceived before any a- greeable effect can be produced, it is neceffary that the connection which fubfifls among them fhould be obvious ; and as the emotion to be excited is of a grave charadter, it is neceffary that they fhould not be numerous, and fhould fucceed each other flowly. A great number of parts, well connected with one another, in a manner that admits of quick, though eafy and gradual changes, would excite the gay and cheerful fenfation occa- fioned by beauty: And if thefe were not intimately connected with one another, the variety of parts could not be eafily comprehended ; the attention would be diflraded ; and in whatever manner the underflanding might be occupied, the imagination could be fupplied with no agreeable employments Upon this lafl obfervation is founded, what has been denominated greatnefs of manner in the fme arts. A piece of architecture which is not fmali, where there is this greatnefs of manner, fills the mind with nobler and more elevated fenfations, than a building of much larger dimenfions, ia which it is wanting. The whole fabric, and ali its parts, bear a fuitable proportion to each other ; and the mind that contemplates it is flruck with 2$^ Grand and Terrible Obje^s* an air of fimplicity and majefly. When a painter wants to reprefent in his pidure a dignified per- fonage, he malces the folds of the drapery large, that the objects which ftrike the eye may be as few as pofTible ; and of confequence, that the mind may feel no embarraffment in conceiving the whole figure at the firft glance. For the fame rea- fon, it is a rule adhered to by the bell paint- ers, that the lights and fhades mufl not be difperfed in fmall and detached portions through the pic- ture, but that they fhould fall in large maifes. Without paying regard to this rule, it would be impoffible to introduce grandeur into the imitative arts. The feveral parts of the pidure, if this rule were not obferved, could not, produce a fimulta- neous imprelTion ; and the detached fragments, be- ing viewed in fuccefTion, would have no force nor efFed. It is a jufl obfervation of Mr. Addifon's, *' that perhaps a man would have been more afloniihed with the majeftic air that appeared in one of I,yfippus's flatues of Alexander, though no bigger than the life, than he might have been with Mount Athos, had it been cut into the figure of the hero, according to the propofal of Phidias, with a river in one hand, and a city in the other." — " Great objeds,** as it is obferved by Prefident Montefquieu, " are made up of parts that are large. Big men have big arms, large trees have large branches, and great mountains are made up of mountains piled upon one another. This is the manner of nature. The Grecian architedure. Grand and Terrible Obje^s. 259 which admits of few divifions, but makes each of them large, imitates great natural objeds. The mind is fenfible of a certain majefliy that reigns through the whole of it. The Gothic architec- ture appears to be much varied ; but the pro- fufion of ornaments fatigues us, in confequence of their fmallnefs, by which we are prevented from diftinguifhing one of them from another ; and in confequence of their number, there is none upon which the eye can reft. It therefore difpleafes, even by thofe means which have been chofen to render it agreeable. A building of the Gothic order is a kind of riddle to the eye which per- ceives it, and the mind is embarraffed by it. In the Grecian architedture, on the contrary, as it has the divifions that are proper, and as many as it is proper it fhould have, that the mind may per- ceive as much of it as it can fee without fatigue, and at the fame time enough to occupy it ; there is that degree of variety which makes it to be looked upon with pleafure. Painters divide the figures, which they reprefent in a picture, into groups of three or four each. In this, as well as in throwing their lights and fhades into mailes, they imitate nature." Thefe obfervations are well founded. The Grecian architect, and the fkilful painter, follow rules, by attention to which, objects are prefented in fuch a way as to conftitute a whole, confifting of parts which the mind eafily com.prehends. All the feveral parts confpire with each other in producing a joint and fmiultaneous a6o Grand and Terrible ObjeSls. effect. The mind of the fpedator is employed ; but is not fatigued, diftraded, nor confounded. It is from a fimilar reafon, that a detached hill, which rifes up to a great height, is a more fublime obje£t than a long chain of irregular mountains. Its parts bear a more intimate relation to the whole, are better connected with one another, and are all of them diflindly comprehended. The fpace to be taken in by the eye is precifely mark- ed out. The figure upon which the attention ought to be employed, is not blended with neigh- bouring objeds, in fuch a manner as to render it difficult to fay where the one ends and the other begins. At the fame time, however, it is to be remark- ed, that though a connexion among the parts of great objeds is neceffary, in order to produce an agreeable imprefTion upon the mind, it is not re- quifite that there ihould be all the fmoothnefs and infenfible gradation that is requifite in objedls which are beautiful. Wherever the objects be- held are great and extenfive, the mind is em- ployed in contemplating the large portions of which they are conflituted, and has no leifure for obferving the more minute parts. The wide profped from the top of a mountain, though di- verfified with fwelling hills, appears to the eye as an immenfe plain. The conical mountain, though the outline be interrupted and broken by many crags and precipices, appears to be a regu- Grand and Terrible ObjeSfs. 2&1 lar figure, with a furface nearly fmooth. The mind is occupied with the refult of the whole, and not with the fmaller and more detached pieces of which it may confift. The ingenious and philofophical Mr. Burke has advanced fome opinions with regard to the origin of our fenfations of fubUmity, which are peculiar ;o himfelf. According to him, they depend upon that connection between mind and body, in con- fequence of which they mutually influence each ether* " Whatever,'' he obferves, " is fitted in any fort to excite the ideas of pain and danger, that is to fay, whatever is in any fort terrible, or is con- verfant about terrible objeds, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a fource of the fublime ; that is, it is productive of the flrongell emotion which the mind is capable of feeling."— " When danger or pain," however, he acknow- ledges, " prefs too nearly, they are incapable of giv- ing any delight, and are fimply terrible ; but at certain diftances, and with certain modifications, they may be, and they are delightful, as we every day experience." He afterwards adds, that "not only whatever is qualified to caufe terror is a foundation capable of the fublime ; but that many things from which we cannot probably apprehend any danger, have a fimilar effed, becaufe they operate in a fimilar manner." From certain ef- c62 Grand and Terrible OhjeBs. fefts of pain and fear, he concludes, that they " a6b upon the fame parts of the body, and in the fame manner, though fomewhat differing in degree." And that they " confift in an unnatural tenfion of the nerves." — " The only difference between pain and terror," he fays, " is, that things which caufe pain operate upon the mind, by the inter- vention of the body ; whereas, things that caufe terror generally affed the bodily organs, by the operation of the mind fuggefling the danger ; but both agreeing either primarily or fecondarily, in producing a tenfion, contraction, or violent emotion of the nerves, they agree likewife in every thing elfe." — " Whatever is fitted to pro- duce fuch a tenfion, mufl be productive of a paf- fion fimilar to terror ; and confequently, mufl be a fource of the fublime, though it fhould have no idea of danger connected with it." — " A mode of terror or pain, is always the caufe of the fu- blime ;" and this is the cafe whether there be ac- tual danger, or whether the notion of it be only fuggefled by affociation. Vifual objeds of great dimenfions muft, he thinks, occafion pain by the vibration of the retina, from the rays from every point of the objed ftriking repeatedly upon it, if vifion be performed by a complete pidure of the objed formed at once upon that membrane ; but if only one point of the objed be diflinguifhable at once, the eye mufl move along it with great celerity ; and of confequence, its nerves and muf- cles inuil be much flrained and highly affeded. Grand and Terrible ObjeSls, c6y Unity Is neceflary to the fublime, becaufe a va- riety of objeds allow intervals of reft, prevent full tenfion, and do not all of them engage the mind at once. Succeffion of great objects, as in a colonade, is fublime, becaufe each of them pro- duces an impulfe and vibration fimilar to that which was produced by the one which went be- fore, and increafes the effed. Darknefs and blacknefs contrad the radial fibres of the iris, and may ftrain the nerves that compofe it beyond their natural tone ; and by this means produce a pain- ful fenfation. In this manner, he endeavours to fhew that all the examples he had colleded of the fublime, are capable of producing a mode of pain, and of being thus allied to terror, and are to be accounted for on the fame principles. This theory is, no doubt, very ingenious ; but is at the fame time liable to ftrong and obvious objedions. — In the firft place, the nature of the connection between body and mind is unknown to us. Though it were proved, that in every cafe in which fenfations of fublimity are excited in us, there is fuch a tenfion of nerves as occafions fome meafure of pain, the origin of thefe fenfations is not explained. There is only a concomitant cir- cumftance pointed out. We can fee no connec- tion between the tenfion of a nerve, and delight- ful admiration. Though we knew them always to be concomitant, we could have no reafon to account the former the caufe of the latter, any 264 Grand and Terrible Objects, more than we have reafon to account a quick and hard pulfe the caufe of a fever. In the fecond place, the opinion that the fen- fation of pain is occafioned by the tenfion or con- tradion of the nerves, is a mere hypothefis, not yet eftabliihed by obfervation of fads and experi- ment, the only guides in matters of this fort. Mr. Burke himfelf admits, that phyfiologifts are not agreed whether pain be the effed of a contradion or a tenfion of the nerves. " Either," fays he, *' will ferve my purpofe ; for by tenfion I mean no more than a violent pulling of the fibres which compofe any mufcle or membrane, in whatever way this is done." That a violent pulling of the fibres which compofe a mufcle will occafion pain, can hardly be doubted ; but it will not be eafy to ihew that this is the only means by which pain may be occafioned. If it be faid, therefore, that fenfa- tions of fublimity are occafioned by a tenfion of fibres fimilar to that which occafions pain, it is only an attempt to explain a thing that is obfcure, by an analogy to fomething equally obfcure with itfelf. In the third place, it is not certain that any tenfion or contradion of the nerves, fuch as is fuppofed, takes place when we contemplate grand objeds. Regular pulfations of rays upon the re- tina may occafiun continued vibrations of nerves ; or the mufcles, by long and rapid motion, may be Grand and Terrible Objecls, 265 ftrained ; and in either cafe pain mav be occafion- ed. But thefe vibrations and flrainings, if they really exift, do not always produce pain ; for pain cannot exift without being felt, and in the contemplation of a grand object we are confcious of no pain. A man may certainly admire the rainbow or the aurora borealis, without any un- eafy bodily fenfation. In the fourth place, there feems to be an obvi- ous diiiinclion between thofe objects that are grand, and thofe that are terrible. An emotion of terror mav, indeed, be excited at the time when fomething great is contemplated, not by the ob- jecl itfelf, but by feme concomitant circumftances. When this is the cafe, the mind may be more deeply affected, and its enjoyments may eveix be more fenfible, than when the grandeur of the object is contemplated by itfelf without any fuch union. But whenever this happens, the fenfation excited is not purely of the fublime ; it is of a complicated nature ; and the circumilances which occafioned it, ought to be diftinguifhed from one another. In many noble defcriptions, terrible images are introduced along with thofe which are lofty, and the effect is certainly increafed by them ; but thefe defcriptions may as properly be denomi« nated pathetic as fublime; for the pathetic is not con. fined to the means of exciting pity, but may alfo be employed in exciting terror, indignation, cr anv violeui paffion. If the fublime w^ere the effect of R 2GS Grand and Terrible Obje^s* terror and pain, all terrible objects tliat did not overpower the mind by the apprehenfion of dan- ger, would excite this fenfation. But there are many things that infpire us with much terror and horror, while we are convinced that we our- felves are Me,, without producing any fuch effect. A malfacre might fill us with many dreadful fen- fations ; but it could never excite one that is a- greeable* A delicate lady, who fhudders at the fight of a ^ider, conceives it, at the fame time, to be a mean and loathfome infed. As there are terrible objeds that excite in us: no fublime fenti- ments, fo there are alfo many grand objedls that afFed us with no terror. The fuperllitious no- tions of the vulgar may fill them with dread when they behold the aurora borealis ; but are the fen- timents excited in them more fublime and elevat- ing ? is their admiration better founded or more genuine, than thofe of the philofopher, who looks upon the glorious appearance, in the firm perfua- fion that it threatens harm t© no living being ? There are many fublime paflages to be met with in the poets, that prefent no image whatever whick can occafion terror* Thus, in the feventh book of Paradife Loft : FIrft in his eaft, the glorious lamp was feen. Regent of day, and all th* horizon round Invefted with bright rays, jocund to run His longitude through heaven's high road : the gray Dawn^ and the Pleiades before him danc'd, Shedding iweet influcncCo L. 370* Crand and Terrible ObjeHs, i6j Again : -Up he rode. Follow'd with acclamation, and the found Symphonious of ten thoufand harps, that tun*d A.ngeHc harmonies : the earth, the air Refounded, (thou remcmber'ft, for thou heardft) The heav*ns and all the conftellations rung, The planets in their ftations Uft'ning flood, AVhile the bright pomp afcended jubilant. Open, ye everlafting gates, they fung, Open, ye heav'ns, your living doors ; let in The great Creator, from his work return'd, Magnificent, his fix days work, a world. L. 557* It appears then, that great and terrible obje(5ls, though they may frequently be united, are in re- ality diflind ; and that the fenfations occafioned by them are not the fame. If Mr. Addifon's enu- meration of the fources from which the pleafures of the imagination are derived, to wit, greatnefs, beauty, and novelty, be regarded as complete^ both of them muft, indeed, be placed under the fame general head of arrangement. But the pa- thetic and the fublime are commonly diflinguifhed by critics, and there feems to be good reafon for the diftindion. If the common acceptation of terms be adhered to, there are feveral objeds of tafte that produce agreeable fenfations, but can- not eafily be referred to any of Mr, Addifon's clafies. If we pay attention to thofe objeds that are terrible, and compare them with thofe which oe- R2 2&S Grand and Terrible Oh j eels. eafion fublimity of fentiment, we may eafilj: be eonvinced that their nature is not the fame, and that the effedts which they produce upon the mind are very different. A grand objedt is diflin6l in all its parts \ it can be clearly comprehended hj the mind, and the relation of its portions to the whole can be readily difcerned. It roufes and' elevates the mind, without producing in it any violent agitation, and without embarraffmg or confounding it. It places us in a frame, which , though it be of a grave and ferious nature, is in; every refpect agreeable. Thofe objeds, on the contrary, that infpire us with- terror, are in gene- ral fo far from being diflind, that they are often involved in much darknefs and obfcurity, and even owe forae of their principal eifecls to this cir- cumftance. They frequently throw the mind in- to violent agitation, and even diftrefs and con- found it. Inflead of elevating the foul,, they ge- nerally deprefs it. Notwithftanding thefe unfavourable appearances^ however, it cannot be denied, that objeds which occafion terror, produce in us, upon many occa^ fions, agreeable effects. Every perfon mufl have felt a charm thrown, by means of them, upon many excellent defcriptions. They have very often much more influence over our minds, than even grand objeds themfelves. To affign any good reafon why the mind fhould Grand and Terrible ObjeHs. ziSy be pleafed In fuch circumflances, feems to be dif- iicult. Fear and terror are certainly in them- felves difagreeable emotions. The objefts that give occafion to them can never, upon their own account, be rendered agreeable to .us. When- ever we are afraid, we are apprehenfive of danger ; we are defirous to employ any proper means in our power to deliver ourfelves from the diftrefs- ful clTCumftances in which we are placed ; and are foUcitous to regain tranquillity and fecurity. It cannot, therefore, be In the adual percep- tion of terrible objeQs, when we confider our- felves as in immediate danger from them, that we ■feel agreeable fenfations. But after the objed that excited our fear is removed, or after the dan- ger that threatened us Is paft, we may fometimes have pleafure in recalling to remembrance the circumflances in which we were placed ; or we may refled upon fimilar fituations with fatlsfac- tioUj when they are prefented to our imagination? in a fine picture, or in an elegant defcription. Objects of dread and terror, even when we ourfelves are in the mofi perfect fecurity, if they threaten other perfons with danger, and full more, if they adually diftrefs them with calamity, can never produce the fmalleft mixture of pleafure in any mind that retains a fpark of humanity. Though every man of tafte reads wath much de- ilght, Virgil's defcription of the burning of Troy -; ayo Grand and Terrible Objefts. yet no man who had not inured himfelf to fights of woe, could receive any pleafure from beholds ing a great and populous city in a conflagration. The objedl in itfelf might pleafe on account of its grandeur, if we were convinced that the wel- fare of no perfon was at flake ; but every agree- able fenfation which might otherwife arife from this fource, is excluded by an inevitable refledion upon the horror, mifery, and calamity, that are fpreading every where. Lucretius's account of the pleafure we receive from beholding the dan- gers and diflrefles of others, while we ourfelves are at eafe and in fecurity, has often been quoted and admired ; but I hope, for the honour of hu-^ man nature, it has been more on account of the beauty of the poetry, than on account of any truth there is in the philofophical obfervation : Suave mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis, E terra magnum alterius fpeftare laborem : Non quia vexari quemquam eft jucunda voluptas, Sed quibus ipfe malls careas quia cernere fuave eft. Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueri Per campos inftrudla, tua fine parte pericli. In fuch fituations, I believe, any man of ordi- nary humanity will find himfelf too much inte- refted in the circumftances of the fuflerers, to have any leifure for comparing his own cafe with theirs, and for refleding with complacency and Relight upon his own perfonal fecurity. A man fitting at his fire-fide, may pofTibly be reminded Grand and Terrible OhjeBs* 271 of the comfortablenefs of his own lot, if he ob^ ferve from his window another perfon drenched by the rain ; but he would be a monfter that could reflect upon this circumftance, if he faw his neighbour ftruck down by a thunderbolt, or drowned in a torrent. The principal things that flrlke the Imagination with terror are the following : — Great power actu- ally exerted, or at lead fuppofed to be capable of being exerted with much violence : An obfcure light, fufficient to fhew the prefence of objeds, but not fufficient to enable us to diftinguifh them from each other, or to difcern their real figures and dlmenfions : And dead fiience, efpecially if it be unexpededly interrupted by a noife of very ihort continuance. We all confider ourfelves as cxpofed to danger from violence, if we perceive a power which we beheve ready to commit it : We are apt to fuppofe a difpofitlon to fuch violent acts in beings that are obfcurely feen, and with refpect to whom, the defeds of perception are fupplied by the fuggeilions of an alarmed imaginaiion ; And in a period of folitary filence, v.^hiie we have no perfon at hand to give us his afTirtance if we fliould be attacked, we are mod at leifure to re- flect upon the helpleil^iefs of our own fituation ; and the lead noife drikes us as the prelude to awful acts. — The principal circumdances that occadon terror, are dnely thrown together by R 4- 2-72 Grand and Terrible Objeds. the tafle and philofophy of Milton, in the begin, ning of his L'AIlegro : Hence loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and biackeil Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongit horrid (hapes, and fhrieks, and fights unholy, Find out fome uncouth cell, Where brooding darknefs fpreads his jealous wings, And rhe night raven fings ; There under ebon fhades, and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks. In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell. The authors of the mofl flriking defcription^ have availed themfelves of thefe circumftances. *' Now," fays Eiiphaz* " a thing was fecretly brought to me, and mine ear perceived a Httle thereof. In thoughts, from the vifions of the night, when deep fleep falleth on men, fear caiue upon me and trembling, which made all my bones to fliake. Then a ipirit pafTed before my face, the hair of my fiefn Hood up. It flood flill, but I could not difcern the form thereof. An image was before mine eyes, there was filence, and i heard a voice, laying. Shall mortal man be more jufl than God ?" Milton has frequently employed the fame dark and indilcriminating colours, Vv'hen dciineatiug objeds of 'terror. In his delcription or hell, he iniorms us, that * Job IV. Grand and Terrible Objeds, 273 A dungeon horrible, on all fides round As one great furnace flam'd ; yet from thofe flames No light, but rather darknefs vifible Serv'd only to difcover fights of woe. B. i. The whole of his defcription of death is thrown into a deep and impenetrable (hade : The other fhape, If fhape it might be call'd that fhape had none Diftinguifhable, in member, joint, or limb, Or fubflance might be call'd that fhadow feem'd. For each feem'd either. — Black he flood as night. Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, And fhook a dreadful dart. What feem'd his head. The likenefs of a kingly crown had on. B. z. In this defcription, except the dart, there is not a diftindt image prefented to the mind ; for though a crown is fpoken of, it is only the likenefs of one ; yet the fancy forms images much more dreadful than if a pidure had been fully drawn. In the following pidure, every thing is great, but every outline and figure is indeterminate, and left to be moulded or completed by the fancy : On t'other fide, Satan, alarm'd, Collecling all his might, dilated flood, I^ike TenerifF or Atlas unremov'd : His flature reach'd the flcy, and on his creft Sat Horror pium'd ; nor wanted in his grafp What feem'd both fpear and fliield. I cannot believe, that in thefe and Hmilar in- 274 Grand and Terrible Obje^ls. fiances, where we certainly receive pleafure fron^ defcriptions of terrible objeds, there is, in reality, any agreeable fenfation directly excited by the ob- jed itfelf, cr even by the reprefentation of it held out to the fancy. We naturally turn away with averfion from objects that excite horror and ter- ror. In many cafes, even the defcription of them is too dreadful to be heard without real pain and diftrefs, and can be rendered agreeable by no art. The figure muft be withdrawn from view, and the fancy left to fupply it according to its own difcretion. There are, however, many cafes in which we would behold with uneafmefs, thofe fcenes which gave us pleafure in a reprefentation or defcription. There mult be fome charm that attaches us in fuch cafes, which does not depend upon the thing itfelf that is reprefented or defcrib- ed. If the following obfervations do not fully illuflrate the nature of this charm, they may, at ieall in fome meafure, tend to explain the effed which the defcription of objeds of terror has up- on us, when it is agreeable. It may, in the firll place, be obferved, that fuch objeds, when prefented to our imaginations, are well fitted to awaken our attention. They roufe and agitate our minds, and engage them in the exercife of various emotions. Whenever the attention is ferioufly engaged, the mind is employ- ed, its thoughts are coUeded, it is entirely oc- cupied with a Tingle train of reile6Uons. It is, of Grand and Terrible ObjeSls, 275 ^onfequence, delivered from all that languor which ufually arifes from want of occupation ^ it has not even leifure to throw a tranfient glance upon thofe objects, which, in diiferent circum- llances, might diftrad it, by exciting tranfient de- fires and emotions. Whatever obje£l is capable of engroffing our thoughts, and occupying the whole of our attention, if it be not ficknefs, grief, or fevere pain, or the dread of great and impend- ing evils, is always productive of fome enjoyment, by the exercife which it occafions. In the next place, we are naturally led by our curiofity to the contemplation of thofe objects which occafion terror. If we be thoroughly ac- quainted with an object from which there is rea* fon to believe we may receive hurt, we feel no agreeable fenfation excited by attending to it. We naturally endeavour to avoid it, and haflen to a place where we may be in fecurity. But if it be an object vvith which we have only an im- perfed: acquaintance, we are defirous of invefti- gating every property of any confequence that be- longs to it. Merely from the principle of curi- ofity, called into exertion by the emotions excited in us, every thing that relates to it becomes intereft- ing. If a volcano were to break out in our neigh- bourhood, throwing out immenfe quantities of afhes, fmoke, and flame, every man would look upon it with wonder, and would wifh to obtain a fuller acquaintance with the nature of that dreads 2^6 Grand and Terrible ObjeBs, ful appearance. The curiofity of fome, would probably lead them farther in their refearches than might be confiftent with a reafonable regard for perfonal fafety ; and we would hardly be furprifed, though in fome, the fame avidity for knowledge that aduated the elder Pliny, fhould involve them in the fame fatal confequences. Our wonder, when once it is excited, naturally prompts us to further inquiry and invefligation ; our imaginations are bufied with conjedures, and our minds are never perfectly at eafe, till we learn many particulars with regard to the new appear- ance. If a fhriek be heard at the dead of night, not only is our attention awakened, and our ima- gination bufily employed in conjedures, but our curiofity is ilrongly excited ; and we cannot be at reft till we difcover whence the unufual found has proceeded, or till time has erafed the impref- fion. It is this curiofity by which children are induced to liiten with avidity to ftories which frighten them ; and which feem, in f?,£t, to make difagreeable impreilions upon them, even during the time they are liftening to them. They are willing to bear all the uneafmefs which the nar- ration really cofts them, from their eager defire to learn how every thing ended. The objedls which infpire terror, are not only new, and excite wonder ; but they are alfo com- monly unexpedled, and produce furprife or afto- nifhment. As they attack us fuddenly, not only Grand and Terrible ObjeBs, ^jj our imaginations are engaged^ but our pafTions are alfo excited. The utmoft activity of our minds is called forth at once. We are led by our fancies into a fcene of wonders, every part of which we are eager to explore. In the laft place, it is to be obferved, that in or- der to render terrible objedls agreeable, even ia defcription, they mud be accompanied by fome- thing that is naturally agreeable. They are rather fitted to heighten the effect of other things, than to produce any agreeable effed by themfelves, A mixture of terror may, for inilance,, heighten the effect produced by an objed that is grand, by affording more ample fccpe for the exercifes of the imagination. A mun who is under the in- fluence of terror, ufuaiiy conceives his danger to be of ten times the magnitude that it really is. If an objed: be in itfelf truly grand, you need only involve it in a certain degree of darknefs, fc^ as to render the outline lefs didind ; or cover part of it with a cloud, in order to make it appear much grander than it would otherwife do. The imagination, when left to itfelf without controul, is difpofed not only to fupply every defect with great liberality ; but even to complete the pro- fpect that is only imperfectly {qqh^ by making large additions. If a being be introduced, who is fup- pofed to pofTefs great power, and at the fame time to be actuated by the blacked malice, the ftrong- e(t effect will not be produced upon the mind by 2 7^ Grand and Terrible ObjeHs* exhibiting a fall-drawn picture of him. Only fug- ged materials for the imagination to work upon, and it will form an image much more adapted to its own talle and relifh, than any that the pencil could delineate. It may be added, that there are various embel- lifhments of eloquence and poetry, by which a good writer infmuates himfelf, and by means of which, he is capable of making even thofe things pleafe which are naturally difagreeable. Except the flowing verfification, the following lines, put into the mouth of the apparition in Dryden's Theodore and Honoria, prefent nothing that is agreeable : As often as my dogs with bitter fpeed Arreft her flight, is flie to death decreed. Then with this fatal fword on which I died, I pierce her open back or tender fide, And tear that harden'd heart from out her breaft. Which with her entrails makes my hungry hounds a feaft. Nor lies fhe long ; but as her fates ordain, *j Springs up to hfe, and frefh to fecond pain, l Is fav*d to day, to-morrow to be flain. J After all, I doubt not but the obfervation of Mr. Addilon is juft : " If the description of what is little, common, or deformed, be acceptable to the imagination ; the defcription of what is great, furprifiiig, or beautiful, is much more fo ; becaufe here we are not only delighted with comparing Grand and Terrible Objeds, 279 the reprefentation with the original, but are highly pleafed with the original itfelf. Mod readers, I beheve, are more charmed with Milton's defcrip. tion of paradife, than of hell : They are both, perhaps, equally perfed in their kind ; but in the one, the brimflone and fulphur are not lo re- frefhing to the imagination, as the beds of flowers, and the wildernefs of fweets, in the other." So far is Mr. Addifon's judgment in this matter ac- knowledged to be well founded, that in the judg- ment of the befl critics, there are fcenes of hor- ror not to be reprefented, and that cannot be de- fcribed fo as to communicate pleafure. Even Milton's defcriptions of his devils would be ihock- ing, if he had not inverted them with certain qua- lifications which are excellent in themfelves, though liable to be abufed ; fuch as fuperior wif. dom and power, determined and invincible forti* tude, and even feme degree of friendfhip and mu- tual confidence. DISCOURSE V. Concerning Nofeltt, conjldered as an Objec. of Taste. MR. ADDISON has reprefented all the plea- fures of imagination as occafioned by gran- deur, by beauty, or by novelty. It is obvious that ail the pleafures of tafle are not derived from thefe fources. The gratification, for inftance, which we receive from melody and harmony, or from wit and humour, or from rhythm and cadence, or from unity in compofition, cannot be afcribed to any of thefe agreeable qualities, unlefs in a figur- ative fenfe. Several fubfequent writers have ac- cordingly reprefented Mr. ^ddifon's enumeration as incomplete, and have endeavoured to fupply the defed. As that elegant author was the firfl who treated of this curio U6 branch of human nature in a phi- Novelty an Obje^l of Tafte. 281 lofophical manner, it could not be a matter of wonder, that fome of thofe fources from which the pleafures of the imagination are derived fhould have efcaped him. At the fame time, if his in- tention be rightly underflood, as he has explained it himfelf, I know of nothing material he has omit- ted. It was not his aim to give any account of thofe mental pleafures which arife from the ex- ercife or culture of the underftanding ; and there- fore, he had no occafion to confider the beauty of problems, nor the beauty of fitnefs or intention, which have entered into the plan of fome philo- fophers who have followed him. Neither did he mean to account for thofe pleafures that are of a moral nature, and, therefore, he did not compre- hend thofe delights which arife from good difpo- fitions, or from virtuous condud. Thefe are claffes of enjoyments which, however valuable, are elTentially different from thofe that were the objed of his inquiries. Under the pleafures of imagination, he did not even mean to comprehend all the pleafures of tafte. Many pleafures of tafle arife from ob- jeds that are heard, as well as from objeds that are feen ; but Mr. Addifon exprefsly defires his reader to remember, that by the pleafures of the imagination, he means only fuch pleafures as arife originally from fight ; and accordingly, he divides thefe pleafures into two kinds, primary and fecon- dary \ the former comprehending thofe which are S 2^2 Novelty an Ohj€& of Tqfle. entirely produced by fuch objeds as are before our eyes ; and the other comprehending thofe which flow from the ideas of vifible objedts, when the objeds are not actually before the eye, but are called up into our memories, or formed into agreeable vilions of things that are either abfent or fiditious.- The term novelty, as applied by Mr. Addifon to one clafs of the objeds of tafle, is ufed in a fignification more extenfive than that in which it commonly occurs. In ordinary converfation, we are accuftomed to fpeak of fome things as new, and of other things as not new, merely with re- lation to our own knowledge, or the knowledge of other perfons. We call thofe things new which we were not formerly acquainted with, and thofe things not new of which we have formerly ob- tained fuilicient knowledge This kind of no- velty is not in the objed itfelf,, but in the rela- tion which it has ta the mind ^ and it ceafes to exifl whenever that particular relation is removed by familiarity or cullom. An objed, in this fenfe, may be new to one man, which is not new to an- other ; and children or perfons who have had little information, meet with the greateft quantity and variety of things that are new to them. Every difcovery in the fciences, every improvement in the arts, every revolution in government, or in the manners of mankind, poflefs this kind of no- velty at firft, but ceafe to have it after they be- l^ovelty an Obje8 of Tqfte. 283 come generally known. In thefe laft Inflances, however, the novelty does not lie in the relation of the objeds to the knowledge of a particular perfon, but to the knowledge of all mankind. All writers upon the fubjed, have agreed in calling fuch things as thofe that have been men- tioned, new. With regard to fuch objects, it has been obferved, that as the novelty fubfifts for a very fhort time, the dired pleafure which the mind receives from it is tranfitory, though fome- times it may be renewed upon refledion, and may alfo give occafion to fubfequent enjoyments. Under that clafs of objects which are to be de- nominated new, Mr. Addifon includes not only thofe that have never formerly occurred to the perfon who perceives them, or have never occur- red in the fame manner ; but alfo thofe that are in themfelves uncommon, ftrange, extraordinary, rare, or fmgular. Objects of this fort, frequently make deeper imprefTions upon us than thofe which we were not acquainted with before, but which have nothing in them that is very pecuHar. When an unknown object has a refemblance to thofe things with which we were formerly acquainted, we become immediately familiar with it, and its novelty ceafes ; but when an object is extraordi- nary or fmgular, its novelty, if we may fo exprefs ourfelves, is permanent. It does not affociate with thofe things with which we are familiar ; it remains diftinQ; and feparate, and preferves its ex« S2 2S4 Novelty an ObjcH oJTqfte. traordlnary appearance, or uncommon properties', perhaps for ever. The novelty of fuch an objed does not wear out by ufe, acquaintance, and fami- liarity, as in the former cafe. It may continue to the lad what it was at firfl. It is a quality inhe- rent in the thing itfelf, and does not depend upon the relation which it bears to the flate or degree of our knowledge. As the quality itfelf is per- manent, the diredt pleafure occafioned by it is not tranfitory, as in the former cafe, but continues for a long time, and may be repeatedly renewed. It is not children, or perfons who are ignorant, that have the beft opportunity for enjoying this fort of novelty ; it is thofe who are moft enlight- ened, who are beft acquainted uith the common qualities and the general arrangements of objects. Without much previous knowledge of thofe things which are ordinary, thofe things that are lingular or extraordinary, cannot be diftingui(hed fo as to be relifhed and admired. It is the virtuofo, the eonnoilTeur, the natural hiftorian, who alone can perceive novelty of this nature in fome claiTes of things, and perfons diftinguifhed by improvement, whofe particular employments may not have ob- tained names, that perceive it in others. As Mr. Addifon, in his EfFay on the Pleafurcs of Imagination, has treated of novelty very brief- ly, he has not formally pointed out this diftinc- tion among thofe objeds which he calls new. He fpeaks of novelty as fitted to gratify curiofity^ Novelty an Objed of Tafte, 285 snd as a motive to put us upon frefh difcoverles. In this view of it, he muil mean that kind of no- velty, an acquaintance with which difpels igno- rance, or increafes knowledge, and -which is re- lative to the ftate of our underftandings. In an- other place, when celebrating the merit of Milton, he afks, " What more flrange than the creation of the world, the feveral metaraorphofes of the fallen angels, and the furprifmg adventures their leader meets with in his fearch after paradife ?'* Now thefe are fine inflances of that kind of no- velty which is uncommon, extraordinary, and even fmgular, which we never can become familiar with, the impreflion of which is permanent, and the pleafure arifing from the contemplation of which, can be repeatedly renewed. Thefe two kinds .of novelty, when thus diftinguifhed from each other, may, with enough of propriety, be denominated by the terms made ufe of by Mr. Addifon himfelf ; the former of them may be called the new, and the latter the uncommon. The generality of writers upon the fubje«51: of tafle, fmce the days of Mr. Addifon, have paid little or no attention to this diftindion, and have ufually overlooked the uncommon altogether. Confining their attention entirely to the new, they have reprefented the charms of novelty as felt only by the ignorant. They acknowledge that we derive pleafure from obferving things that are unknov/n 5 but they are a proof of our imperfec- S3 *86 Novelty an ObjeSl of Tap. tion \ for if we were acquainted with every thing around us, we could never feel them. The beft evidence of confummate wifdom is nil mirarU Lord Kaims, indeed, had perceived that thefe two things are not the fame, and obferves, " That a thing muft be fmgular as well as new, to excite our wonder." He feems, however, to have look- ed upon the diftindion as of little moment, for he immediately fubjoins, " To fave multiplying words, I would be underftood to comprehend both circumftances, when I hereafter t^lk of no- velty *» It is unqueflionably true, that nothing can be better accommodated to the weak but progreflive flare of man, than the defire of knowing what he has hitherto been unacquainted with. This prin- ciple is one of the chief incitements to that in- di'dry which produces eminence. Great and beneficial eff'tds flow from it. In the gratification of it confift lonie of our m.oft rational and digni- fied enjoyments. The reHlh which we have for what is fingular or extraordinary, may be of much lefs confequence either to the individual or to fo- ciety ; ftill, however, it is a principle in human nature, to which there are objeds adapted ; and it furnifhes enjoyments that are permanent, and fome * Elem. of Crit. ch^p. vi. Novelty an Ohjecl of Tajle. 2S7 of which cannot be confidered as beneath the dignity of the highefl created being. Mr. Addifon has endeavoured to explain the manner in which novelty affeds the mind, and I think httle has been added, or perhaps need be added, to his obfervations upon this fubjed, «' Every tiling,'' fays he, *^ that is new or uii« common, raifes a pleafure in the imagination ; be- caufe it fills the foul with an agreeable furprife, gratifies its curiofity, and gives it an idea of which it was not before polTeffed. We are, indeed, fo often converfant with one fet of objects, and tired out with fo many repeated fliows of the fame things, that whatever is new or uncommon, con- tributes a little t-o vary human life, and to divert ■our minds -a while v/ith 4:he ftrangenefs of its -ap- pearance : It ferv^s us for a kind of refrefliment and takes off from that fatiety we are apt to com- plain of in our ufual and ordinary entertainments. It is this that beflows charms on a monfter, and makes even the imperfections of nature pleafe us. It is this that recommends variety, where the mind is every inftant called off to fomething new, and the attention is not fuffered to dvv^ell too long, and wafie itfe4f on any particular objed. It is alfo this that improves what is great and beau- tiful, and makes it afford the mind a double en- tertainment. Groves, fields, and meadows, are at any feafon of the year pleafant to look upon • S4 fi8S Novelty an Object of Tajle. but never fo much as in the opening of the fpring, ivhen they are all new and frefh, with their firfl glofs upon them, and not yet too much accuf- tomed and familiar to the eye. For this reafon, there is nothing that more enlivens a profpe£b than rivers, jetteaus, or falls of water, where the fcene is perpetually ihifting, and entertaining the fight every moment with fomething that is new. We are quickly tired with looking upon hills and valleys, where every thing continues fixed and fe tied in the fame place and pofture ; but find our thoughts a little agitated and relieved at the fight of fuch objeds as are ever in motion, and Aiding away from beneath the eye of the ber holder.'^ In this explanation of the manner in which no- velty pleafes, there are two circumftances clear- ly pointed out. In the firfl place, it gratifies the principle of curiofity, by furnifhing the mind with the knpwledge of fomething with which it was for- merly unacquainted. In the fecond place, it inte- refls the mind by exciting in it certain agreeable emotions, and giving employment to its thoughts. The emption excited in the mind, is denominated by Mr. Addifon, furprife. He ufes this term in a general and loofe fignification. We are properly furprifed at thofe things which are unexpeded, and wonder at thofe things which are extraordinaryt But Mr. Addifon comprehends wonder under lur- Novelty an ObjeSl of Tajle, 289 prife ; for in moft of the inftances which he pro- duces of things that occafion this emotion, there is no occurrence marked as being unexpeded. Lord Kaims has taken notice of this diflin6lion, and given a very full illuflration of it in his chap- ter concerning novelty. Though he acknow- ledges, however, with Mr. Addifon, the intereft which the mind takes in uncommon objects, and the exercife which it receives from them, he is inclined to afcribe the whole of it to the opera- tion of curioHty ; and accordingly endeavours to account for all the charms of novelty, from the gratification of this principle. The moffc part of other writers upon the fubject that I have met with, think all the pleafure we receive from no- velty fo eafily accounted for, from the gratifica- tion of curiofity, that they have hardly mentioned any thing elfe. This, I apprehend, has arifen from not attending fufficiently to the diftindlion between thofe things that are new, and thofe that are uncommon. That thofe objects with which we have former- ly been unacquainted, whenever they are prefent- ed to us, give us an opportunity of gratifying the principle of curiofity, cannot be doubted. We are originally formed with a (Irong defire of knowledge, which, unlefs checked by an unnatu- ral afcendancy, given by indulgence to fome other principles in the conftitution, muft operate ftrong- 290 Novelty an Obje8 of Tqfte. ly as long as we live. To make progrefs In the acquifition of knowledge, is certainly one of the valuable ends for which man was formed ; and the gratification of the principle which prompts him to the purfuit, is wifely rendered highly agreeable. On ordinary occafions, however, the fatisfadion which accompanies the confcioufnefs of improvement, is of a very tranquil nature. In the acquifition of the mofl valuable knowledge, we ufually proceed in a regular and orderly man- ner. Our thoughts are conneded together ac- cording to the ufual laws of aflbciation, and each of them fucceeds that which went before it, in fuch a manner, that the mind preferves the fame tone, without elevation or depreffion. We are gradually carried on in our progrefs ; we are in- troduced, almoft without attending to it, to the knowledge of thofe things that are new, by means of their affociates, with which we have already be- come acquainted, and acquire the knowledge which we wifh for by imperceptible degrees. The llate pf the mind is, in the mean time, quiet and tran- quil. It is happy in the exertion of its powers, and in the employment which it finds in com- prehending thole objeds which areprefented to it. It alfo receives pleafure and fatisfadion from its conlcioulnefs of making: attainments in valuable intellectual accompUfhments. If all the pleafures that arife from the perception of thmgs that are new or uncommon, confilied Novelty an Obje& of Tqfie, 291 in this fort of gratification furniflied to the prin- ciple of curiofity, I think it might reafonably be doubted whether novelty could, with any pro- priety, be ftyled an objecl of tafte. The enjoy- ment that is felt in cafes of this nature, arifes diredly from the exercife of the mental faculties, and in this refped, is eflentially different from thofe agreeable fenfations which accompany the reflex or fecondary perceptions of beauty, har- mony, and the like ; which are commonly con- fidered as conftituting the pleafures of tafle. A man purfues knowledge as he purfues power, or fame, or any other obje^l that is agreeable. In his purfuit he meets with that delight which is continually the attendant of adivity, in thofe ex- ertions which are made for the fake of acquiring what is defirable ; and in confequence of attam- ing the end which he had in view, he procures gratification to the aftive principle which is pre- dominant in his mind. It is not, therefore, in exertions of this fort that we are to look for thofe pleafures of the imagination which are occafioned by novelty. The n^ere gratification of the defire of knowledge, feems to me as much unconnedted with tafte, as the gratification of ambition or ava- rice, or as the agreeable fenfation arifing from moderate exercife of body. But new objeds are often prefented to us in fuch a manner as to roufe us from a ftate of tran- quillity J and unconunon objeds, if they excitf. 292 J^ovelty an 0hje6l of Tqfte, our attention at all, have continually this effed. They excite in us certain emotions, by means of which we become interefted ; and we feel an agreeable fenfation, not from the dired percep- tion of the objed, but from a reflex or fecondary perception and judgment that it is new or un- common. There are two clafles of objedls which affedt us in this manner. Sometimes the objed that is prefented to us is fmgular, or extraordinary, or at leafl different in certain important refpeds from any we have formerly been acquainted with ; and at other times, an objed which we have formerly known makes its appearance unexped- edly. In both thefe cafes, the fenfation excited in us is of a lively nature, and, unlefs when over- balanced by fenfations of an oppofite charader, occafioned by other circumftances, is agreeable. Objeds that are fmgular or extraordinary, ex- cite in the fpedator the emotion of wonder. The uncommon appearance of them may either be relative to the imperfed ftate of his knowledge, or it may depend on the nature of the things themfelves. The emotion is occafioned in neither of thefe cafes, by curiofity, or the love of know- ledge ; it follows inftantaneoufly the perception of the objeds ; and fo far is it from being intro- duced by the defire of information, that in the highcit degree of it, which is denominated ado- Novelty an Object of Tq/ie, 493 nifhment, it utterly fufpends, for a time, the ex- crcife of every intellectual faculty. After the violence of the emotion has fubfided, curiofity begins to operate. We endeavour to find out certain particulars in which the uncommon objedt agrees with other things that are more familiar to us. Our wonder, however, does not entirely ceafe, till we become acquainted with the mod flriking and remarkable qualities of the extra- ordinary objed, and be able to refer it to fome known clafs of things. During the courfe of all this inveftigation, the mind is interefled, and de- rives pleafure from the exercife and employment with which it is furnifhed. It is in this manner that we are affected by the uncommon produc- tions both of nature and of art ; and it is more for the fake of the pleafure that arifes from the emo- tion of wonder, than from any defire to increafe the flock of their knowledge, that men univer- fally difcover fo prevalent an inclination to fee thofe things that are ftrange. If, upon the other hand, it fliould evidently appear, that the objeft is extraordinary in itfelf, and unlike any thing elfc, we fcarce indulge the hope of learning any thing further with regard to it. Our euriofity neceffarily comes foon to an end, but our wonder continues almoft unabated. Although it IS an objedl entirely fingular that excites wonder in the higheft degree, yet the emo» tg4 Novelty an Objed of Tqfle. tion may alfo be called forth by things that differ Iii any remarkable refped from thofe of the fame clafs to which we have been accuftomed. A man may have an opportunity, almoft every flarry night, of feeing meteors dart acrofs the heavens, and may look upon that appearance in its or^ dinary form with perfed indifference ; but if a fiery ball of immenfe fize and fplendour burfl forth, he will look upon it with wonder, and even with aftonifhment. If a plant fend forth its blolToms in autumn, or its leaves in December, it deviates fo much from the ordinary growth of the vegetable tribes, that it occafions fome degree of wonder. ' We feel the emotion of wonder in a fimilar manner, when we difcover refemblances among thofe things which we formerly thought were entirely different in their nature. Thus men were (truck with amazement, when it w^as difco- vered that the lightning of heaven is the fame kind of matter with eleQric fluid. The fame is the cafe, when we difcover that events exceedingly unlike each other, have fprung from the fame or fimilar caufes ; and that various changes are brought about agreeably to the fame genera! laws ; that the tides, for inflance, flow, and that a comet is retained in its orbit by the fame force that brings a ftone to the ground. In fuch cafes, curiofity is fully fatisfied by the difcovery, becaufe the knowledge that was wifhed for is already Novelty an Objecl of Tajle* 295 gained ; but the wonder occafioned by the extra- ordinary or fmgular combination continues, and always recurs anew whenever thefe great difco- veries in the material world are thought of. It is not merely uncommon objefls themfelves that produce wonder. The emotion is perhaps occafioned in a higher degree by extraordinary combinations of things formerly known, and by the difcovery of fmgular relations fubfifling a- mong them, than by any fingle objedls whatever. The effed: of this emotion is in a particular man- ner felt, when conceptions that were not formerly thought to poffefs any thing in common, are brought together as agreeing in fome refpeO:, whether important or infignificant, agreeably to the ordinary laws of aflbciation, by an elegant writer, or a facetious fpeaker. It is from fuch uncommon combinations that figurative language borrows its enchantment, and genuine wit its fprightlinefs. Such uncommon but natural com- binations, delight the mind, by giving exercife and play to the imagination. Not only may objects themfelves, with their qualities and relations, ftrike us by means of their rarity or fingularity, and thus excite our wonder ; but there may alfo befomething ftrange, of aiuni- lar nature, in the manner in which even a com- mon objed is prefented to our notice. When every thing goes forward m a regular train, when 2g6 Novelty an OhjeB of Tajle. every event is progrelTively brought under ouy obfervation by that which immediately preceded it, our minds remain in a quiet and tranquil con- dition ; we fee without emotion every thing go- ing on in that fteady courfe to which we have long been familiarized. But cafes often occur when the ordinary train of things, at lead as it was fettled in our conceptions, is not adhered to ; and events accordingly happen which we did not cxped, and for the occurrence of which we were not gradually prepared by thofe events which preceded them. In fuch a cafe, the mind is fud- deniy roufed, and thrown into a flate of lively agitation. The emotion excited upon fuch oc- cafions, is denominated furprife. We are fur- prifed to meet with a perfon who we thought was refiding in a difhant country ; to find abiUties where we expeded none ; and to difcover flight refemblances, contrails, analogies, and relations, among thofe objeds that feemed to be altogether unconnected. It is juftly obferved by Lord Kaims, that fur- prife, conudered as an emotion, has no invariable charader. In the occurrences of Hfe, it mufl fometimes be an agreeable, and fometimes a dif- agreeable emotion, according as the event that has happened is looked upon as fortunate or un- fortunate. As It is occafioned by nothing that is abfolutely in the objed itielf, but is wholly re- lative to our knowledge or conceptions at the Novelty an OhjeB ofTaJle, tgj time. It cannot continue, as wonder fometimes does, for any confiderable period. It is, indeed, an emotion that is merely momentary ; and after it is gone, it cannot be renewed by recollection. Its effects may be powerful and violent ; they may long be felt in a weakly conftitudon ; but the emotion that gave occafion to them is, in aa inflant, gone for ever. In the purfuit of knowledge, furprife is gene« rally attended with agreeable confequences. An unexpected occurrence roufes the mind, and gives it employment. We endeavour to difcover the means or the train of connexion by which it was brought about. If we unexpededly meet with a friend, we naturally inquire to what it is ow- ing that he happens to be here. A natural hif- torian may be furprifed to find a piece of quartz, or other heterogeneous matter, in the midll of the moft folid cryftal ; or a fpider in the mod tran- fparent amber. His furpriie roufes his attention, and incites him to make fuitable inquiries. A variety of hints and conjectures are naturally iug- gefted to him by fuch circumftances, with regard to the origin and formation of fuch bodies. He is inevitably led to believe that they have once exifted in a ftate different from that in which they at prefent appear ; and he is ftrongly induced to trace out other circumftances^ by means of which he may be enabled to afc^rtain the changes they have undergone. T 298 Novelty an Ohjedt of Tajie. As furprife produces a flrong, though not a laf!- ing, eftecl upon the mind, thofe who wanted to afFed the mind by produdions in the fine arts, have very naturally been led, upon fome occafions, to introduce objeds fitted to excite it. Whether the fuccefs, iu th^ generality of thefe attempts, has been fufEcient to requite xht labour which it coft, may, I think, be doubted. In public fpec- tacles where it has been tried, as long as the fhow was new to the fpectator, it has feldom failed to pleafe. A ftranger is agreeably furprifed when he meets with a great fall of water at the end of a walk, while he knows that there is no river near the place ; but his pleafure never again re- turns, after he difcovers that the whole is a de- ception that has been pradifed upon him, and learns that the appearance is produced by the re- flexion of candle-light from a large bent ftieet of tin. Objeds fo fituated 2^ to produce furprife, have often been introduced into gardens, and have frequently produced a ftriking effed: upon a ftranger, the firft time he heedlefsly and unex- pededly (tumbled upon them ^ but the pleafure he felt vanifhed in an inflant, never more to re- turn. Of this pleafure arifmg from furprife, whatever may be its value, the proprietor him- felf. never partakes. His only enjoyment upon the.occafion mufl be drawn from the aflonifhed countenance of, his guefl j and it may be doubt- ed whether this b« not too dearly purchafed, at the expence of lofmg other objeds that might Novelty an Object of Tajle. 299 adminifter delight to him, even when he was alone. One of the beft imagined contrivances of this fort, perhaps in the world, occurs in Hag- ley Park, when after afcending a Hoping walk, rendered almofl dark by the deep fliade of old trees, you iflue forth unexpectedly into the open light and air ; and a mod extenfive profped, nobly diverfified, is at once prefented to the eye, from a feat placed on the verge of the wood, and mod appofitely infcribed, " Thefe are thy glorious works, Parent of Good, Almighty." It is this magnificent profpecl which Thomfon celebrates in his Spring, /. 946. Meantime you gain the height, from whofe fair brow The burfling profpeft fpreads immenfe around : And fnatch'd o'er hill and dale, and wood and lawn, And verdant hills and dark'ning heath between, And villages embofom'd foft in trees, And fpiry towns, by furging columns mark'd Of houfehold fmoke, your eye excurfive roams : Wide ftretching from the hall, in whofe kind haunt The hofpitable genius lingers ftill. To where the broken landfcape, by degrees Afcending, roughens into rigid hills, O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds That fliirt the blue horizon, dufl^y rife. The whole, however, of the efFed w^hich is produced by this magnificent fcene, is not to be afcribed to furprife, nor indeed even the princi- pal part of it. The profpedt that opens to the. T2 3®0' Novelty an Objed of Tq/^ei eye is vafl: ; the objects that are exhibited in 11? are grand in thenifelves ; and the whole muft ap- pear magnificent, whenever the eye is directed ta them. To be brought unexpe6;edly into the view of fiich a fcene, may ftrengthen the impref- fion upon the mind of a ftranger ; but though it be contemplated a thoufand times, familiarity will^ not deprive it of its charms.. In Ifterary compofitions, occafions very feldora occur, upon which furprife can be excited with fuccefs^. Whenever the fubjed treated of is grave, it is requifite that the mind of the reader or hear- er fhould be gradually carried forward by a re- gular train of thoughts, depending upon one an- other, and connedled according to the common; laws of affociation. It mufl: be prepared by what has gone before,, for that which is to follow. This method is neceffary, whenever the intention ©f the fpeaker or writer is i& communicate in- formation, to convince the underflianding, or to move the affections or paflions. If any thing be introduced abruptly, and without proper con- nedion, it appears flrange indeed ; but it is dif- jointed and oui? of place, and therefore, does not contribute to the general effed. If the mind is to be elevated to- any particular tone, it fhould be done by degrees ; and it ought afterwards to be brought down, with a fenfe of the impreffions that have been made upon it, and with the re- folutions that have been formed, to a flate of 'Novelty an ObjeSl of Tafte, 301 tranquillity and compofure. The furprife occa- fioned by the introdudion of what is unexpected, is inconfiftent v/ith the ends which the writer up- on any ferious fubjed has in view. In ludicrous compofition, however, furprife may often be excit- ed with good efFeds ; and it in reaUty occafions aconfiderable proportion of the pleafure which arifes from wit and humour, efpecially the lower kinds of them. With regard to the effeds of wonder in height- ening the merit of fome kinds of hterary compo- fition, the cafe is very different. To fome kinds of writing, it feems effential that a variety of things that are (Irange and uncommon fhould be introduced. This, however, is not univerfally the cafe. If it be the fole aim of an author to convey inflru'^ion, he may effeduatc his purpofe, by leading the mind of his reader gradually into his ov/H views, without exciting any wonder. Every writer, indeed, that experts reputation, mull produce fomething that has the merit of being new, at lead when confidered in relation to the underftanding of his readers. He mufl either treat of fomething that is not generally knov/n, or he mufl bring to view fomething with regard to a known fubjed that has not been at- tended to ; or he mufl place the matter in a nev/ light, or reprefent it in colours different from thofe in which it has commonly appeared ; or he mufl do fomething or other that is peculiar to T3 503 Kovelty an ObjeH ofTq/ie, himfelf. If he does nothing that has not beeri done equally well before, he has not the fmallefl pretenfions to excellence. This is, in fad, one of the principal charms in every work of genuine merit, that is addreffed to the underftanding. Something is prefented to the mind with which it was not formerly acquainted, or at lead, is fet before it in a fhape or drefs in which it has not ufually been viewed. It is not neceffary to ex- cite any emotion, but a degree of novelty mufl be introduced, fufficient to awaken curiofity, to pro- cure attention, and to give employment to the intelledual faculties. If a writer aim at any thing farther than mere- ly to communicate information, it will not be fufficient folely to gratify curiofity. If he means to Intereft the mind of the reader, to pleafe his imagination, or to moye his affections and paf- fions, he muft excite wonder in one degree or other, by prefenting things that are uncommon and extraordinary. Though the incidents be probable, they nmft, in Ibm.e meafure, be marvel- lous, or different in fome material refpeds frorn thole that ordinarily occur, in order to captivate the imagination. I'he metaphors, the compari- fons, the allufions, muft be taken from objeds or adions that are not vulgar nor familiar. The language itfelf, however natural it may leem, mull be confiderabiy railed above the level of common converiation, jEvcn the writer of a fon-r Novelty an Objed of Tqfie, 303- net or an epigram, if he be fuccefsful, mnil bring together thoughts that have not commonly been, affociated in the minds of his readers, or he mufl adorn a thought that is common with fome un- common illufliration. If the fubjed itfelf fhould not be extraordinary, there mufl be the callida junciura^ or the curiofa felicitas^ the artful aflbcia- tion, or the ftudied elegance, in the thoughts, the figures, or the exprelTion, in order to render it agreeable. In all the productions of the fine arts, it is ab- folutely neceflary to keep curiofity awake, by pre- fenting things that are in fome refped or another new. It gives an agreeable employment to the mind to trace refemblances, contrafts, and rela- tions, to which it has not been accuflomed. We are led into irefh profpecls, where every objed claims our attention. Though we may have {ztn many of the fame things before, it has been a different fide of them that was turned towards us. "When they are prefented to us in a different fitu- , ation, or when the Hght falls upon them in a dif- ferent diredion, they become in a good meafure new again* A work may, however, pofTefs all this merit, and yet not obtain lading fame. The novelty which it prefents may be merely relative ; and \i fuch be the cafe, it will ceafe to pleafe, in confe- quence of familiarity, after it becomes well known, T4 304 Novelty an Obje^ of Tajte, Time, therefore, always depreciates fuch a pro^ dudtion. Writers of genius, accordingly, have not fatif- fied themfelves with what is new ; they have diligently fought after that which is rare. What- ever is fcarce, if it have either beauty or utiHty, mufl be valued ; and whatever changes may take place, it will always bear a price. The befl: poets have not been fatisfied with gratifying curiofity, unlefs they alfo excited wonder. • The fairies in Shakfpeare's Tempeft, and the fylphs and gnomes in Pope's Rape of the Lock, are extraordi- nary beings, whofe appearance and adions call forth our wonder. Our curiofity, with regard to them, is foon fatisfied, becaufe we know that any inquiry concerning them would render us little ivifer. We do not become familiar with them ; they always continue equally (Irange, and there- fore will always excite the fame emotions that they occafioned at fir ft. The celebrated fimile in Addifon's Campaign, prefents an image that is grand ; but its effed is principally owing to the circumftance, that it is extraordinary or fingular : So when an angel, by divine command, Wilh rifmg tempefts fhakes a guilty land. Such as of late o'er pale Britannia pafl. Calm and ferene he drives the furious blall ; And pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, Jlides in the whirlwind, and direds the ftorm. Novelty an Obje6l of Tqfie* 305 In the works of nature, novelty is nothing but endlefs variety. The fame objedts can be viewed and traced in an infinite number of diredions and > combinations ; hence they can be examined with pleafure a number of times. A man hardly ever wearies In going over the fame ground, when it is finely diverfified with woods and ftreams, and banks and rocks ; he finds fomething that calls up his wonder anew every time he vlfits it. In the works of art, it is exceedingly difficult to introduce the variety of nature. The fame, or fimi- lar objects, are in general too apt to recur ; the mind becomes languid, from want of employment. We are foon tired of the fmooth level walk, the viflo always prefenting the fame objed as its ter- mination, the uniform parterre, and the regular row of trees. We wifh for that wlldnefs and di- verfity which nature gives to her works, where every ftep brings to view fome objedt or fome arrangement that has not ftruck the attention be- fore. We demand fomething analogous to this variety in the productions of art ; and we reckon thofe works mofl perfed, which attain the neareil refemblance to it. DISCOURSE VL Remarks onfome Objects o/Taste^ that feem not reducible to Beauty^ Grandeur^ or NorELTr, THERE are many qualities, fuch as utility, fitnefs, proportion, uniformity, and variety, that are very frequently connected with beauty ; and there have been feveral philofophers who have thought that beauty confifts in fome one of thefe qualiHes, or in fome combination of more than one of them. I think it requires httle illuf- tration to Ihew that none of thefe quahties con- ftitute beauty, though fome of them are gene- rally found united with it. Thefe qualities, and feveral more of a fimilar nature, are to be met with in a vaft variety of objects, which no fentient being ever accounted beautiful ; and even where the objed is really beautiful, no perfon eftimates its beauty from the degree in which it poiTefTes thefe quahties. So?ne Objeds of Tqfte^ Iffc. 307 At the fame time, it is readily admitted, that all thefe qualities are produdive of agreeable fen- fations in our minds ; though the quahties them- felves, and the fenfations occafioned by them, are very diflinguifhable from beauty, and the agreeable feelings occafioned by beautiful objeds. It mufl be acknowledged, that in all cafes in which utility is difcernible, there is fomething fitted to pleafe fome minds, and perhaps the ge- nerahty of minds. There may be nothing that is naturally agreeable in the objed itfelf; but there are certain purpofes to which it may be appUed, which are productive of agreeable con- fequences. We contemplate the thing itfelf, and its confequences in connexion, and by well-known laws of alTociation, attribute the fenfation excited in us to the objed itfelf, as much as to its ufes. Every fort of fitnefs or correfpondence be- tween two objeds, affecls us in a fimilar manner. In cafes of this fort, there are evidences of defign and contrivance, which have been employed with a view to bring about an end. The purpofe that is ferved may, upon many occafions, appear to be of no great importiince ; and when this is the cafe, our pleafure may not be fo .great as when it is of much importance. Still, hovrever, we are convinced that it feemed of fome import- ance to the perfon who bellowed his labour and contrivance upon it. It, befides, difcovcrs a cer- y)S Some Obje8s of Tqfie tain degree of ingenuity in the contriver. He has attained the end which he had in view, either by his mental or manual operations. We enter, in fome degree, into his fenfations ; and his fkill or dexterity, even when we think it mifapplied, produces an agreeable efFed upon us. Proportion, both in vifible objeds, and in ab- flracl conceptions, is an agreeable quality. Re- gular figures are thofe which are foAned accord- ing to a certain rule ; fo that, according to the fame rule, figures fimilar to them may be form- ed. A fquare, for inftance, is a regular figure, having all its fides equal, and all its angles right angles ; and any perfon who defcribes figures having thefe two properties, defcribes fquares. We are pleafed when we look upon thofe things which are regular, becaufe they are eafily com- prehended by the mind. Wherever we obferve proportion, we are fenfible of a certain degree of regularity. A feries of objeds, for inftance, increafing or decreafing in magnitude, according to a given quantity, polfeifes regularity. A figure, in the fame manner, that is juft the half, or jufl the double of another, bears a regular relation to it, that is eafily and perfedly afcertained. In ob- ferving relations of this nature, the mind is aifed- cd in an agreeable manner. Uniformity and variety alfo produce agreeable fenfations. In all regular objects there are cor-^ Not reducible to Beauty ^ ^c. jcr^ refpondent parts j and thefe correfpondent parts muft be uniform, or mull: have a perfedt refem- blance to one another. In a parallelogram, the oppolite fides and oppofite angles muft be precife- ly equal ; if they diifer from one another in any refped, the figure is not quite regular. Where- ever objeds, contiguous to one another, are in- tended for the fame ufe, we are pleafed when we find uniformity among them. We expedt to fee the windows in the front af a houfe all of the fame dimenfions, and the chaiTS in a room like one another. We carry this principle farther, and are pleafed with feeing the walls and the furniture of the fame colour in the fame apartment. It is the fame fort of uniformity which we defire to meet with in objedis that have fymmetry of parts. We are pleafed with a perfect refemblance, both of figure and colour, in thofe parts which are cor- refpondent. Whenever a refemblance among a variety of objeds is ufeful, in affifting the mind to comprehend and remember them, it is agree- able. If there fhould happen to be variety in- troduced among thofe things which were intend- ed for the fame ufe, we are incapable of difcover- ing any reafon for it ; it breaks that connexion which we are defirous of finding among the feve- ral objeds, and, of confequence, perplexes and embarraffes us. At the fame time, an uniformity that is very long continued, is infupportable ; it keeps our attention fixed upon the fame thought, and renders our minds languid and inactive. If 3 1 o Some ObjeSis of Tajle the feries be very long, it is abfolutely necellary that variety /hould be introduced, in order to give exercife and vivacity to the mind. A long ave- nue, with parallel rows of trees, is always exceed- ingly tirefome ; and a colonade fatigues us, if it extends farther than that fpace which we caa take in at a fingle view. Order and arrangement are intimately connect- ed with thofe particulars which have been lafl mentioned. They alfo are fitted for exciting in us agreeable fenfations, even where they are not conneded with beauty. If a great number of ob- jecls be prefented to us in confufion, we are not able to furvey them with any fort of fatisfadion. We cannot perceive any relation by which they are connected with one another, nor can we even form any diftinCt conception of them. But if they be arranged in order, and divided into their tribes, and clafles, and families, we can, with great eafe and fatisfadion, go progreflively over the whole of them. During the furvey, our minds are employed without being fatigued. In a rnufeum, where a great number of natural pro- dudions and curiofities are preferved, we would receive little or no pleafure, if the various articles "Were not placed in order \ but, as every thing is properly claffed, we proceed with fatisfaftion from one order, and from one objed to another ; we cau fix our attention where we pleafe j and we Not reducible to Beauty, E5V. 311 can have recourfe, whenever we choofe, to thofe particulars which we wifli to examine with care. Many of thofe pleafures, however, which arife from the fources that have been enumerated, are principally, or altogether, of an intellectual kind, and are to be regarded as of a different kind from the pleafures of tafte. We cannot, in the gene- rality of cafes, feel much pleafure when the un- derftanding is diflatisfied ; but in many cafes the underftanding may be gratified, as it frequently is in the invefligation of abflrad truths, when the powers of tafte have no employment. Congruity and propriety are objects of tafte, and are fitted to give us pleafure. They are, however, very different from beauty ; they be- long to the relations that take place among diffe- rent objects, and not to the objects themfelves. An objett may in itfelf be beautiful, and yet it may be placed in fuch a fituation, or conneded with things fo unfuitable to it, that it will not produce its proper effect. In the condud of Hfe, we confider one fort of behaviour as proper, and another as improper. There are fome actions which we confider as altogether improper in man ; there is an incongruity between them and his nature. There are others which would be impro- per in certain men ; they would be incongruous with the general tenor of their conduct. There are other actions that have no impropriety in 2 1 2 Some ObjeSls of Tajle their own nature, which become improper in par- ticular places and times, and which would denote fomething very wrong in the man who performed them unfeafonably. There is a fimilar congruity and propriety among the objeds of tafle. Every thing fhould be introduced in fuch a manner as to be of a piece with the reft. One part of the furniture of a houfe muft not be gorgeoully rich, while the reft is mean or plain ; otherwife grofs incongruity will appear. The ornaments of a building muft have a relation to the whole, and to one another ; and that which is fuitable to an opera-houfe, may be of fuch a kind, that it would be intolerable in a church. The levity which pleafes us in a comedy, could not be endured in a fermon. The ornamental language which is fuitable in a popular harangue, addreffed to the imagination or paifions, would be highly impro- per in a didadic difcourfe, intended merely to communicate information to the underftanding. The bold figures of epic or lyric poetry would appear ludicrous, if introduced into a paftoral or an elegiac compofition. The reafon why con- gruity and propriety are pleafing, is manifeftly, that all the particulars and circumftances exhibit- ed to view, produce a fimilar effect, and confe- quently concur in making a joint impreflion upon the mind. On the contrary, when the feveral particulars and circumftances have a tendency to produce effects diffimilar to one another, the emotions excited are frequently inconfiftent \ and Not reducible to Beauty^ £sf r. 3 1 3 the mind, fenfible of an abfurdity in the jundlion of them, feels no fcrious emotion. Contrafts, alfo^ are means by which pleafure is excited, or at leafl heightened. A large man appears to be taller than he really is, when placed befide a very little man ; and a bright colour is feen to much advantage, when we have an oppor- tunity of comparing it with a dark one. In paint- ing, the effeds of light and Ihade are heightened by the artful contrails of them ; in (latuary, alfo, the attitudes of the figures are contrafted with each other, in order to exhibit each of them to the bell advantage. After palling through a dark wood, the eye is relieved when it comes again to the open day, and fees an extenfive pro- fpect before it. In an epic poem, the mind is tranfported when it paffes from contemplating the awful lake of hell, and the conflicts of fupe« rior beings, to vifit the delights of paradife. Con- trails, then, appear to pleafe, not from any thing in the objeds themfelves, but becaufe they place the objeds contrafted in a more conlpicuous fituation than that in which they would other wife have appeared, and thus hold them out to the attention of the mind. In order to produce an agreeable efFeft, they muft be made ufe of with judgment, fo as to prefent only thofe things which deferve to be attended to ; and though they b« introduced with art, the art ought not to appear. 314 Some ObjeHs of Tajte Intricacy has been mentioned by fome writers as one of the conflituents of beauty, though for what reafon I know not. That intricacy gives pleafure upon fome occafions, is unqueflionably true. When we have nothing elfe to do, we are fond of tracing out all the windings of a perplex- ed path, and of gaining a diflind conception of the whole plan. The labyrinth of Crete did not obtain its celebrity for nothing. After the clue had been difcovered, there was, no doubt, fome- thing amufmg in its inextricable error ; but the pleafure lay in the invefligation of it, and no ftranger returned from it fatisfied, till Thefeus had been taught to condud: himfelf through its mazes by the ufe of Ariadne's thread. A perfon who is employed in unravelling intricacies, and in folving puzzling difficulties, is engaged in a jnofl laborious operation of the underflanding ; and whatever pleafure he receives from his la- bours, or from the rdult of them, is of an Intel- ledual nature. Among the objefts of tafte, the expreffion of the human countenance delervedly holds a very high rank. In what manner the connection be- tween mind and body is eftablifhed and carried on, we cannot explain ; but that there is fuch a connexion, is known to all. All the paflions, defires, and emoiions of the heart, exprefs them- felves by certain modifications of the eye, or of the features of the face. There is one difpofition Not redticlhlc 1o Beatify^ tsfc, 3 1 5 of features that indicates good nature, and ano- ther that indicates fretfulnefs and peevifhnefs. Anger, madnefs, grief, joy, have all particular -configurations of countenance by which they are denoted. The eye, efpecially, is fufceptible of an exprefiion of vigour, of penetration, and under- ftanding. Phyfiognomifts have (ludied to reduce to general maxims, the obfervations they have collected on this fubjed ; but hitherto, I beheve, without much fuccefs. In particular inftances, however, the fad is abundantly manifeft. In every fine countenance, the charm ufually con» fifls much more in the exprefiion of good difpo- fitions, than in beauty itfelf. Grace is alfo an objed of .ta&e, though it is very difficult to point out in what it confifts. Ac- cording to Montefquieu, its etFecl is wholly ow- ing to furprife. " We are (Iruck with a fort of aflonifhm.ent, when a perfon pleafes us more than we had expeded. We are agreeably furprifed, when we find pleafuig qualities, where external appearances did not promife them. Women that are not beautiful, often have graces which beautiful women have not. A beautiful woman (Irikes at her firft appearance ; but it frequently happens that v/e afterwards find our prejudice in her favour has been too high, and we have the morti-» •fication of being obliged to moderate the opinion which we had originally formed. Hence our favourable impreHions ^re gradually effacedo P 2 3 1 6 Some ObjeSls of Tqfte Where, on the contrary, the charm is not in the countenance, we are agreeably furprifed to find it in the manners. Grace depends more upon the mind than upon the features. A fine counte- nance makes an impreflion at once, which gradu- ally wears out ; but an amiable mind fhews itfelf by little and little, and always flrikes us with new wonder. The graces depend more upon the air and manner, which are continually changing and producing new fiirprife, than upon the face. Beauty depends on the features alone ; but grace difplays itfelf in a thoufand other circumflan- ces." — There is in thefe remarks much acute obfervation on human life. At the fame time, the opinion will hardly be received by the gene- rality of thofe who refleft, that the lafting plea- fure infufed by the graces ^ depends upon an emo- tion fo fudden and momentary as furprife. Pro- bably it may be found that grace is nothing elfe but the natural expreflion of dignified fentiments, united with amiable difpofitions, and a frame of mind that is tranquil and unrufiled.. In all grace- ful manners, at leaft, there mufl be the expreflion of this flate of foul. I would not, however, be underftood as if I thought, that wherever there is grace in the manner, there are always to be found the correfpondent dignity of foul^. and lovelinefs of difpofition, and ferenity of temper. We know that whatever is external in behaviour may be acquired by the power of habit, without the coj> Not reducible to Beauty, f arrangement, and, at the fame time, diftinguilhes Cc3 414- On the Importance of Natural Fhilofoph)\ fubflances from one another, by characters that are peculiar, and that leave no ambiguity nor confufion. Such a iyftem pleafes the imagin- ation, for the fame reafons that recommend an elegant oration, where the fucceflion of parts is eafy and natural, and where the obfervations that are m.ore immediately conneded with one another are arranged together. Where all advantages, how- ever, cannot be obtained, ornament and elegance mufl be facrificed to utility. The ancient botanifts, who took their characters from all the parts of the plant indi^criminattly, were fufficiently attach- ed to nature ; but their principles of arrangement were too rmmeroiis, and what is worfe, they were inaccurate ; and now, after new kinds have been dilcovered, poiTefling qualities which they thought pecuhar to fome of thole which they knew, many of their descriptions are unintelligible. — Tournefort arranged his general cbfTes froni the figure of the corolla, and diftinguiflied his ge- nera from the properties of that part, and of the fruit. Kis principles were abundantly fim- ple ; but after thoulands of Afiatic, \nican, and American fpecies, had been introdaced, they w:re not fufFicient to render his defcriptions always ch.i- raderidical, fo thai the kind could be certai rly diftinguiflied and afcertained. — Linnaeus adopt'.d the whole frudification. He forms both his c:af- fes and his orders from the number, proportion, and fituation of the ftamina and piftilla. The figure^ number, proportion^, and fituaiionj of iho On the hnporiance cf Natural Philofophy, 4 1 5 other parts of the frudification, fufficiently diftin- guifh his genera ; and, with a few other obvious marks, taken partly from thefe, and partly from the leaves and otlier parts of the plant, charac- terife his fpecies and varieties. His principles are flili fufficiently fimple ; his arrangement is elegant in the highefl degree ; his defcriptions are deter- minate and precife. Though he has not, on every occafion, been able to conned: thefe plants, which, from their external habit, feem to be naturally re- lated J yet, on account of its other uncommon advantages, it does not feem probable that the Linntean fyllem will foon yield to another. It has received feveral alterations from Thunberg, his eminent fcholar and fucceffor in his chair, and fome of his other difciples, which feem to me to be improvements, as they tend to render it more fmrple ; but all of them rigidly adhere to his prin- ciples of deriving all from number, figure, pro- portion, and fituation of parts. It is a fmgular teftimony to the merit of this great man, that the violent oppofition he met with from ingenious .and eloquent philofophers, proved altogether un- fuccefsful ; and he died, loaded with fame and ho- nours, after having lived to fee his principles em- braced by the learned of every nation in Europe. The fyftems of animals, thougli perhaps not yet brought to fuch perfection as this one, are found- ed upon fuch natural and eafy principles of ar- rangement, that they give great fatisf^iclion to the imagination. With regard to thefe two, the worlJ C Q A 4 1 6 On the Importance of Natural Philofophy^ confefles the obligations it is under to the pene^ tration and indefatigable induftry of Linnaus. The rapid improvements in chenuftry will, un- doubtedly, lead to a fyftem of fofTils, more accu^ rate than can be formed from external charaders, ■which, in this branch of natural hiftory, have been found to be infufficient ; and much has al- ready been done to accomphfh this valuable end. The wonder occafioned by new objeds is re- moved, whenever they are properly aflbrted, and thus brought under the comprehenfioD of ihe imagination; but external objeds theniiclvj s do not occafion fo much wonder and furprife as li'eir motions and changes. With refped to thefe, the mind follows a different mode of generalization, from that which it t.iiploys with refped to the fubftancfcs themleb'es. It has a natural propen-^ fity to refer adiors a- their caules ; audit arranges them from the naiure of the iigency which pro- duced them., ur the nature of the laws, according to which they are bruught about. The percep- tion ci an effed net rehted to any thing elie, is never fatisfadc^y to the mind, becaule it is only the confequence of adion, and therefore I'uppoies the exertion of an adive power. Hence arifes the inquiry into caufes and effeds, oi mto ttie general laws, according^ to which, motions and changes are produced, to which the relearches into alTortrnents and arrangement are only fublervient. Experience lufficiently proves, that one objed is On the Importance of Natural PJjilofophy, 4 1 7 aded upon by another, and has certain motions and changes produced in it ; however difficuk it may be to explain the nature of thefe operations, or to invefligate the general law by which they are regulated. Senfible of this, the mind is never fatisfied after perceiving an action, if it be uncer- tain of the agent ; but after we become acquaint- ed with the efficient caufe, or the general law, according to which the effect is produced, we ob- ferve the effect, with emotions very different from thoie which we formerly felt. A man who, for the firfl time, faw the ebbing and flowing of the fea, and who had never heard any reafon affigned for theje changes, would obferve them with allo- nifiiment. This emotion, however, would only lad, till he knew that it happened in confcrquence of the geneial law of gravitation, with which he is perfectly acquainted. Notwithitanding the mul- tiplicity of effects, the laws, agreeably to which they happen, are few, ana eaiily comprehended by the imagination ; and the manner of their effi- ciency is famihar to the mind. It is to be obferved, that our Inquiries Into the eaufes of things are not entirely intended to pleafe the imagmation. Regard is alfo paid to truth. If a cauie be affigned, though it be evidently fuf- ficient for producing rhe erfcct ; yet, if we perceive that it is really noc the cauie, the mniu is noc i:\ the ipaft degree fatisfied. Tlie underi landing claims a right to judge j and if it difcover any thing wrongs 41 8 On the Importance of Natural Philofophf. the account that is given, however beautiful and plaufible it may be in other refoeiSls, muil be re- linquifhed as a groundlefs hypothefls. Evidence for the truth of a caufe is not, however, abfoiutely neceflary to render a theory amufing and agree- able. If no improbability be difcerned, and no better account of the matter occur, the caufe af- ligned is often acquiefced in without any proof. The Cartefian fchool, which accounts for the po- lar diredion of the magnet, by fuppohng that a fubtile matter revolves through its poles, though no proof can be brought of the exiflence of fuch a fluid, will find multitudes difpofed to adopt that hypothecs, till another be formed that can be better fuppoirted ; for it is more fatisfa61:ory to im- agine fuch a fluid producing the efled, than no caufe at all. If the caufe afligned be fo familiar lo the imagination, as to be eafiiy comprehended ; if it account fufBciently for the appearances afcrib- ed to its operation ; if no evidence lie againft it ; chough there ihould be only a prefumption in its favour, it will give fome rehef to the mind, and will accordingly be aflented to by many, till an- other theory, more elegant, or better fupported, be produced. On the other hand, a fyfl:em or theory becomes contemptible and unfatisfadory, when it is fo complex as to be burthenfome to the imagin- ation ; or when its principles are of a kind with which we are not acquainted ; or when it is evi- dently whimfical and inconfifl:ent with fact and obfervation 5 and in fuch cafes mud be relinquifh- On the Importance of Natural Philofophy, 41 j ed. Who would receive a fyftem of occult caufes, which, from the multiplicity, as well as incom- prehenfibility of its principles, accounted for no- thing ? Who will believe that the pulfations, digef- tions, and fecretions, in the human body, are occa- fipned by a plaftic power, of which neither he nor any other perfon was confcious ? Who does not defpife the theory that accounts for the deluge, by fuppofmg the earth involved in the watery tail of a comet, when it was melted by the fun upon its return from the remote regions of cold and darknefs ? Having thus confidered the nature of the in- formation which the mind requires, with regard to the changes of matter, it may be proper to il- iuflrate the manner in which natural philofophy affords this fatisfadion. A few remarks on the hiitory of phyfics will be fufficient for this pur- pofe. Before the introduction of arts, men were very little accuilomed to fpeculation ; and their philo- fophy, of confequence, was rude and imperfedt. The only inquiries among them regarded things that v/ere extraordinary, afloniiliing, and terrible. Common effects fcarce excite any curiofuy. Their caufes are fometimes very evident ; and, at any rate, the thing itfelf is fo familiar to the ima^ gmation, that it gives it no trouble, and is over- looked. A rude people would never inquire why 42 D On the hnportance of Natural Ph'ilofophp vapour afcends, and rain falls. Daily accuflomed to obferve thefe efFeds, they would confider them as primary operations of nature, which did not need to be traced back to any principle of a more general kind. But thunder, earthquakes, hurri« canes, and other terrible appearances, mud im- mediately claim attention. Every efFed, or chain of caufes and eifefts, upon the principles of all philofophy, rude or improved, mull proceed from an active being. The agent, however, may be conceived as producing the effe^l, either imme- diately, or by certain means fitted for bringing about the end. The former of thefe methods is the more fimple, and, accordingly, appeared as the only method of philofophizing to the untaught generations of early times. Every flriking event was afcribed to the agency of fome invifible power, that was capable of counterading the common and eilabliflied courfe of things. Jupiter darted the lightning, Neptune fhook the earth, iEolus di- rected the tempefto As for matter, with its ufual changes, they were fuppofed to be eternal and un- caufed. Piato is faid to have been the firfl of the Greeks, who ventured to maintain that mat- ter was created. Mythology may, in this light, be confidered as the firfl attempt to philofophical inquiry. EfFecls ivere attributed by it to certain caufes, which were fuppofed to be capable of producing them. Im- pcrtect as this philofophy was, it prefeated fome« 071 the Importance of Natural Fhilofophy, 421^ thing on which the human Imagination could re(h Every divinity had his own province ; certain ef- fedls were regularly afcribed to him ; and thefe, it was fuppofed, he was capable of performing, with the fame eafe that men perform thofe adions to which they are every day accuflomed. So invari- ably did they afcribe fimilar effeds to the fame perfons, that the commentators of Homer have found Httle difficulty in turning his poems into tolerable allegories, by tranflating: the names of his gods into the names of the provinces over which they prefided, and by fuppofmg their ac- tions to fignify motion and change, exprelTed m. the manner of poetical perfonification. This kind of phllofophy, though well enough adapted to the capacity of the vulgar, and the tafte of the fuperflitious, could not long fatisfy the minds of thofe who inquired rationally. The imagination was confounded by the multiplicity ©f thofe ifivifibk beings which were necelTarily In- troduced to account for appearances. The di- vinities of celeftial dignity, not to mention thofe of the feas, rivers, and mountains, were innumer- able. Another inconvenience attending this fyf- tem, confidered as a philofophical hypothefis, was, that the manner thefe beings atled was unknown, and their operations refembled thofe of an occult caufe ; but its principal defed was, that it fur- niflied nothing on which the underftanding could rely. The evidence for the exiftence of thefe di- 422 On the Importance of Natural Philofophy. vinitles, was no better at firft than mere fuppofi- tion and conjedure ; and in procefs of time, the whole hypothefis was overturned by obfervation and experience. Men faw, at laft, that many of the events formerly afcribed to perfonal agency, proceeded from natural caufes. They difcovered, by attending to fads, that a flood was not occa- fioned by a river-god pouring forth water from an urn ; but by the melting of fnow, or the falling of rain : And that an echo was not the voice of a fportive nymph, but the reverberation of the air from a fmooth furface. After men were perfuaded that motion and change are frequently not effeduated by imme- diate perfonal agency, their views of natural caufes became gradually enlarged. In a great number of cafes, it was eafily perceived from what exertioa a particular change immediately proceeded ; but this was not fufficient information to a philofo- pher. That the imagination might be fatisfied, it was necellary that a great number of events ihould be accounted for from one common caufe, and re- duced in this manner to a general clafs. Theo- ries were inferted, with a view to fatisfy the mind, by connecting a variety of events, as having pro- ceeded from the fame fource. But as experience had not yet laid up a fufficient provifion of fads for the purpofe, the fancy was employed to fup- ply the want of obfervation. The fuppofition was frequently imaginary j and as it wanted a foun- On the Import anee of Natural Philofophy. 42:3 datlon in truth, it could not fuit the appearances of nature. Cafes were often occurring, for which it did not tolerably account. In order to fatisfy the underftanding when it became more enlighten- ed, it was neceifary to load the theory with a va- riety of exceptions and deviations, or to add new principles to thofe formerly thought fufficient. Bv fuch management, it was polTible to account for many appearances ; but the fyflem gradually be- came burthenfome to the mind ; becaufe fimplicity, without which the imagination cannot be pleafed, was entirely loft. Philofophy was deprived of elegance, and aflumed a clumfy form. It became neceifary to overthrow the ancient edifice, and ere£t a new fabric upon a fimpler plan. The hiftory of aftronomy, as we have heard it elegantly delivered by Dr. Smith,* furniflies us with a good illuftration of this progrefs. The earth was beheved, of old, to contain a centre, round which the heavenly bodies revolve every day in circular orbits. This fuppofition was at firft abundantly Cmple, and it accounted very well for all that w^as then known of the planetary fyftem ; but obfer- vation afterwards demonftratcd the imperfedion of the theory. Many appearances of the planets which were not at firft attended to, particularly the retrograde and ftationary fituations of fome of them, were left unexplained by this theory. To fupply its defects, cycles, epicycles, and eccentric. * See Dr. Smith's Pofthumous E(rays> 424 On the Importance of Natural Philofophy, cities Without number, were introduced, till it be- came fo complex, that it diftracled the imagin- ation. A new fyftem, more fimple and lefs bur- thenfome to the mind, became neceflary. An in- genious fuppofition, of which an account is tranf- mitted to us by Cicero in Scipio's dream, was adopted by fome ancient philofophers, though it was not generally received. The two inferior planets, whofe motions occafioned moft perplexity, were fuppofed to move periodically round the fun ; and the fun, with thefe two attendants, was imagined to revolve every day round the earth, above the orbit of the moon, and below that of Mars. The fituation of the three fuperior planets was the fame as in the old fyftem. This hypo- thefis, greatly improved by the fuppofition that the three fuperior planets alfo move round the fun, while the fun, attended by the whole, revolves round the earth, was afterwards illuftrated and maintained by the celebrated Tycho Brahe, but with the fame want of fuccefs. Though thefe fuppofitions may account for fads better than the old fyftem, yet they are furrounded with many difEculties, and are deficient in fimplicity. It was particularly unfortunate for the hypothefis of Ty- cho, that it was not thought of till a better one was known. No effort of human genius could amend the old hypothefts, fo as to make it account for appearances, and at the fame time pleafe the ima- gination. It was abfolutely neceffary to overturn the whole. When things were in this fituation^ Ofi the Importance of Natural Philofophy, 42^ the Emancipated Spirit arofe, who, either of him- felf, or alTifted by fome hints derived from antiquity, difcovered that the great fource of light and heat is the centre to which the opaque bodies tend, and round which they revolve. By this hypo- thefis, he accounted in the eafiefl: manner for thefe appearances, which had involved the Ptolemaic fyftem in inextricable intricacy and endlefs con- fufion. The fimplicity of the fuppofition recom« mended it to the imagination j future obferva- lion eflabhfhed its truth. Notwithftanding the agreeablenefs of fimplicity to the imagination, it mufl be facrificed to truth whenever they interfere. The inquiry into the means by which the heavenly bodies are kept m motion, exhibits an inftance of this facrifice. Men had long imagined that the planets were fixed in cryflalline orbs, which revolved like chariot, wheels, in confequence of a vis ?notrix imprefled upon them by a primu?n mobile^ and other fuch caufes, when Defcartes attempted a more fimple hypothefis. He fuppofed that the univerfe is filled with a fluid, continually moving in a circular di- reclion, in which the heavenly bodies revolve, from the fame principle that carries a veflel down a dream. The theory had great fimplicity to re- commend it ; it accounted for every thing by im- pulfe, the law of nature with which we are bell acquainted. It is not then to be wondered at, that they who adopted it pertinacioufly adhere* 426 On the hnportance of Natural PhilofopBfi to it. But the foundation of the whole wa3^ merely imaginary. "Whenever it was. proved that there are parts of fpace not occupied by matter, the theory could not fland. Sir Ifaac Mewton, guided by experiment, and the principles of found philofophy, at lafl difcovered the connection by which the whole fyftem is bound together, and the caufes by which its revolutions are effeduated. Inflead of fuppofing the world to be filled with matter, he concluded, from good reafons, that in the greater part of it, there is^ fcarce any matteE at all ; fo that there h nothing to interrupt the motion of a planetary body, ,when once begun by means of impulfe. He found from analogy, fup- ported, by computation, that the planets are at- traded by the fun, as a flone is attracted by the earth \ and by means of the principle of gravita- tion, added to impulfe, , which had been fuppofed by Defcartes, he fourid himfelf capable of account- ing for every motion of the planetary fyftem. His principles were few and familiar \ and as he had no occafion for whirling pools, his theory was; more fimple than that of Defcartes. Fads corref* ponded to it;, and every, philofopher who loved truth, finding it confirmed by experience and: analogy, founded on laws that univerfally prevail,. and accounting for all appearances, willingly em- braced it. • It might eafily be fhewn, that the revolutions ©f theories, in every branch of phyfics, as well 1 On the Importance of Natural Phihfophy. 427 as In aftronomy, proceeded from the fame cir- cumftances. Men of inquiry, obferving that events were complicated and aitonifhing, though their caufes were few and familiar, were naturally led to feek. relief to their imaginations, in reducing events to general claffes by means of their caules* When this method of generahzation appears to be impracticable, another method, fnnilar to that employed in claffing external objects, though far lefs fatisfaclory to the mind, is adopted. We are lefs ftruck with a dreadful event, when v/e are in- formed of fimilar calamities that have happened elfewhere. Men in diftrefs feel a confolation from reflecting that they are not fniguiar. Events, how- ever important, that are familiar to the imagin- ation, pafs unobferved, even by thofe who are ig- norant of their caufes. From this view, a fyitem of generalization, with regard to events, fimilar to that which gives relief to the mind, with regard to external objects, appears to be very natural. Accordingly, a talkative man, who does not trouble himfelf with the caufes of actions, thinks he has fufficiently accounted for an extraordinary fad which you have mentioned to him, when he tells you another equally wonderful. Few events have fallen under his obfervation, becaufe he viewed them without examining or diftinguifliing them. A few clalTes, formed from fnnilarity of circum- (tances, include all the ftories that burden his memory and imagination. He is at eafe, when- ever he gets a fmgular event aiforted, by bun*. Dd2 4^8 On the Importance of Natural Philofophy^ delling it up with parallel occurrences. Even tlie philofopher is fometimes obliged to fatisfy himfelf with a fimilar method of generalization, and to adopt a fort of analogical theory, though he be fenfible of its imperfedions, from want of bet- ter principles of arrangement. If this inelegant method of removing the furprife of novelty give relief to the imagination, how much more fatisfae- tory mufl that fyflem of generalization be, which arranges effeds from the agency of thofe natural caufes that are familiar to our minds, and which attempts to explain every thing as the confequence of a few general laws that are well known ? Know- ledge of this nature is the fublimefl that the hu- man foul can poffefs ; it bears a refemblance to the difcernment of the Supreme IntelHgence, which beholds the firfl fpring and the long concatena- tion of efficiency, by which the determinations^ of the divine will are brought about. So vain are men of fuch knowledge, that they unwillingly rer nounce even the appearance of it. A hypothefis- never was relinquifhed, till it had become too com- plex by repeated amendments, or till it was found infufficient to account for appearances, or till it was proved to be falfe ; and fcarce even in thefe cafes, imlefs a more perfed one w^as fubftituted in its toom. Knowledge of this nature, as it is the refult of much labour and genius, is treafured up and tranf- mitted from generation to generation. Few hav^ On the Importance of Natural Philojophy, 425 It in their power to make any additions to it ; but he who makes himfelf acquainted with it, enjoys from it all the fatisfadion which the firfl; inventor felt, except the confcioufnefs of having made a valuable difcovery. It is an intimate acquaintance with thefe primary laws and principles, and a knowledge of their effeds, that conflitute a philo- fopher. Every uncommon appearance ftrikes a child, as it flrikes a favage, with amazement and aftonifhment. Thefe fenfations are lefs frequent- ly felt by the man who has familiarized to himfelf the generalizing principles which have been adopted by philofophers. The effed ap- pears to be what might have been expedled from the caufe which produced it ; the con- nection is clearly difcerned, and therefore the imagination is undiflurbed. Though the causes of many things yet lie hid, the plan of inveftiga- tion is dill going on, and after the labour of ages, will be brought to perfe(Si:ion. Then will be dif- covered the fimple principles which move the great machine of nature ; and the long feries of con- nections and dependencies, by which its parts are linked together, will be unfolded. All who think themfelves born for better purpofes, than to travel through the world with no other view than to l^ratifjr craving defires, or to purfue whatever is conducive to profit or pleafare, have the ftrongeil encouragement not to remain in a ftate where they mufl gaze and wonder at every thing ; but to pur- chafe from philofophv, at the expence of labour Dd3 430 On the Importance of Natural Philofophy. and diligence, thofe principles of generalization^ both from refemblance and efficiency, v/hich af-? ford relief to the imaginavion, and fatisfy the love of truth, and exalt the inquiring mind far above the deplorable (late of barbarity. It is this love of knowledge that ought to warm the bofom of a philofopher. It is this which has led numbers of Inquiring minds through labour and danger, to inhofpitable regions, that they might cxan-ine thofe productions and appearances of nature, which ihey had not an opportunity of obftrvii:g ai heme. Such laborious perigrinations, in learch o\ kLow- ledge, were not peculiar to the ai-cients, asPyihar goras, Dem,ocritus, and Plato. Theft grent raen have been livalkd by Hallelquifl, Fciflvai, Ih m- berg, Sparman, Forfier, Ear.ks, and Solai der, and many n ore in our own times, i'li^ mated by thib thnh atter inicimation, every irgtrucuF mind will ei dtavcur afliCiiotfly to (lore itieli with the treasures of wifdcn which have been lam up by experience, though it t:an n.akc no addition tp them, Philofophy, bymeans oftheplansof gereralization which it follows, and by the agreeable appearances which it exhibits, afituds a mod rthrcci tricrtaiur ment to the principles of tad e. 1 he mine that is cap'r^ble of being affeded with grandeur or beauty, mufl frequently be captivated during an inquiry into the fyftem of nature. The uniform tendency of her var:^ous operations is not dilcernible to tj^e On the Importa7Ke of 'biatural Philofophy, 43 1 inattentive eye. That which the vulgar behold as a detached produftion, or an accidental event, is regarded by the philofopher as neceflarlly con- nected with a great fcheme. There are, indeed, many agreeable appearances which are obvious to every eye. The rainbow, the aurora borealis, ard the lightning, afFecl the mind of the unlearn- ed, as wdl as of the philofopher; but the fenti- ments of the one are very different from thofe of the other. The one confiders them as great and beautiful, becaufe he can examine them with at- tention. The other beholds them with notions of danger, while his thoughts are confufed by his ignorance of their nature, caufes, or effeds. He who has attended to the mutual influences and operations of things, perceives without terror the beautiful order of the univerfe, and rejoices in con- templating thofe events w^hich contribute to pro- mote the harmony of the well-adjufted plan. How different are the conceptions of the philofopher, when he confides the fun as an immenfe body, giving ilability, light, and motion, to the whole planetary fyftem, from thofe of the unreflecting part of mankind, wAio think it no larger than a brazen Ihield, and wlio confine its effecls to the fmall fpot of earth with which they are acquainted ? The late difcoverles in optics have pointed out beauties in the rainbow, which the ancients, who knew not diftindly even of what colours it is com- pofed, could not difcern. Horace expofed to ridi- cule the poets who attempted to defcribe it 5 but Dd4 43 2 On the Importance of 'Natural Philofophp minute defcriptions of it have been given by the poets of this age, which Horace himfelf would have admired. Formerly, the thunder was heard with terror and amazement ; but eledrical know- ledge has emboldened the modern philofopher to penetrate even into the thunder-cloud, and taught; him to dire^^i the courfe of the lightning. In ancient times, the appearance of a comet filled kingdoms with confternation, and made the heart of the braved foldier to faint. A philofopher, at prefent, dreads none of its efFeds, but receives it with joy, as a meflenger from the remote parts of the uni- verfe, from whom he can obtain information con- cerning the extent and revolutions of the world. Every part of thi material fyPum prefents a va- riety of great or bLciutiful objeds to the philofo- phical eye. Though the labours of the natural philofopher be primarily dirtded to the gratification of his own mmd. yet they uniformly tend to the benefit of mankind. From every branch of phyfics, there arife praftical arts of importance to the com- fort of human life. The probabiHty of fuccefs in the mediv al art, depends, in a great meafure, upon the knowledge of natural hiftory. When the limits between the various appearances of mat- ter are not diftindly axertained, fo that one ob- ject may on all occafions be diftinguifhed with certainty from every other — when the properties f>f vegetable and minerai fubltances are not in- 0?i the Importance of Natural Phllofophy, 433 veftlgated and underflood, and their mutual at- tradions and relative affinities examined — it is idle to prefcribe and difpenfe. The perfection of the colours in painting, ftaining, enamelling, and dye- ing, as well as many particulars regarding farm- ing, bleaching, refining of metals, and a variety of other arts, depend upon the fame kind of know- ledge. The advantages in particular arifmg from the art of Separating metals from grolTer materials, and fafhioning them into inftruments for the con- veniency of life, are numerous and ftriking. How low the (late of thofe focieties where iron is un- known ! They want the ornamental works of art ; and even thofe which necefTity has produced, after infinite labour, bear only a coarfe appearance. They have no method of turning even wood into the mod ufeful forms. — -Clay itfelf, by the afTiflance of metals, aiTumes a polifhed furface, and can be appHed to purpofes both ufeful and ornamental. Without the difcoveries of the aftronomer, geography and chronology would for ever have been in their infancy : Without aflronomy, men could feidom have gone beyond the limits of their native country, to exchange their fuperfluides for thofe of other nations. The vafl ocean would have been poured out upon the earth in vain.' No mariner could have fleered his courfe through it to foreign regions. The wealth of fertile climates would have rotted under the feet of their indolent inhabitants, and could not have l)ecpme the rewaiid 01 niduilry to the adventurous 434 0^ ^^^ Importance of Natural Thilofoplj^^ fons of lefs fevoiared countries. Aflronomy, of itfelf, would not have been fufficient to have guided the manner through extenfive feas, though it afcertained to him the place of the globe at which he had arrived. Without the magnetic needle, to point out his courfe when he could not obferve the (tars, and without the knowledge of its variations, he durft hardly have quitted the fight of land, to free himfelf from the danger of I'ocks and flieives, or to fhorten his courfe to dif- tant fliores — left he fhould have loft his way amidft clouds and tempefts. The great advantages derived to life from the ^udy of mechanics, are too manifold to be enu- merated. By means of machinery, the work of multitudes, who are unallifted with the improve- ments of philofophy, is performed by a few ; the prod udions of nature are formed, at a fmall ex- pence, into the neceflaries and elegancies of life; and the labours, as well as natural pro- duce, of a populous and improved country, are exchanged for the wealth of foreign re- gions. Several ufeful arts have received confider- able improvements from thofe inftruments that meafure the v/eight and temperature of the air. Regularity, punctuality, and difpatch, are greatly indebted to the machines which meafure time. The improvement which the internal navigation of countries has received by means of canals, demon- ilrates the benefit of hydroftatical knowledge. On the Importance of Natural PJjilofophy. 43 j" The invention of conveying water by fubterrane-. ous tubes, fo as to anfwer all the ufeful purpofes of the moil expenfive aquedu6t of antiquity, is fufficient to (liew the utility of modern difcoveries. The late excellent contrivance of the pneumatical engine for extinguifhing accidental fire., affords a- proof that no hint, however unpromifmg, ought to be rejected as ufelefs. No man could have gueifed, without experiment, that the condenfmg air-pump could have been applied to fo beneficial a purpofe. But it is needlcfs to dwell upon thefe ufe- ful and ingenious contrivances, with whofe advan- tages every one is acquainted, and w^ho!eeabiy to the appointment of r.atiire, rind is uniform in all men who are in the fame circumflances. The caufe of variety in tafle, is not that there is any varieiY in the perceptions or fcniations of men in ihefe niatrerf. but that there are feveral h'ghts in which the fame objeft may be viewed, in each ol wliich it aflumes a different appearance ; and ti^at there are other quah'ties, bcndes thofe which are properly the objeds of taflej belonging to many objeds, that occafion plea-ure and pain. Thefe latter fcniations, as they arife from a different fource, ought to be feparated from the feelings of talle ; but they are ufualiy confounded with them ; and an objcd that is ufeful or farnionable, is commonly looked on as beautiful ; yet uti- lity and fadiion, though they be things that are agreeable, are of a very different nature from beauty. Since, then, vre have original perceptions and judgments concerning beauty and deformity, criticifm, which is the knowledge founded upon the obfervation of them, is not arbitrary and capri- cious, but has a folid foundation in nature. We can diaw concluhons by induction, concerning the cbjecls oi talfe, as wt-li as concerning the ob- jeds of the external fenfes ; we can reafon con- cerning Jicm, and our reaioiiing n:ay be founded On the EJfcds of Critical Kyiyj^ledge, '^Sc. 463 upon felf-evjdent and undeniable truths. The objecls of art pofTefs bea.;:y or Jeform'ty. as well as thofe of nature, and are judged of In the fame manner, and are to be reulbned upon on fmiilar principle^. By obfen-ation and induction, we may fonn rules for judging concerning them as well as concerning other things. The knovv*- ledge and application of thefe rules is criticiim : It is an art founded upon nature, and however difficult it may be ro bring it to perfection, it is evidently capable of the fame certainty with fnni- iar branches of knowledge. Though this be the only foundation of folld criticifm, they \^ho pro felled the art have often built upon different principles, and by doing fo, have expofed the art itfclf to cenfure. Ariflotle did not appeal to nature, but to Homer and So- phocles ; and Boif-j delivered a fyftem of rules founded upon the example of Homer 2jid Virgil. Thev felt pleafure in reading certain poems ; they confidered them as perfect, and concluded that every thing excellent mud be lilce them : They did not inquire what it was that rendered thefe poems agreeable, but pointed out their flriking parts, and recommended theni as models. 7'heir condud Teems to land in the fuppoficion, that there is no excellence in theie kinds of wTiting^ except what thev have derived from the authority of thofe V. ho have obtained reputation. Notwith- fianding this grievous niiftake in fetting out, the Ff.t 464 On the Effeds of Critical Knowledge^ ^c» poets they chofe to recommend, had fo many per- fedions, and had formed themfelves upon fuch excellent principles, the grounds of which their critics could not point out, that many of the rules founded on their example are agreeable to nature, and mufl always be obferved. As thefe critics, however, gave no better reafon for their rules than the authority of eminent writers, it was fuf- pedled that their art was not founded upon natu- ral principles. To fay that a rule mull be right, becaufe Homer obferved it, is like faying that a propofition muft be true, becaufe Ariftotle main- tained it. Every man who has enough of inven- tion, has as good a right to make a model for him- felf as Homer had. Since, then, criticifm is an art not arbitrary and capricious, but is founded upon firfl: princi- pies, and fmce its rules are not derived from ex- ample and fupported by authority, but are formed by induction and analogy, the importance of its objeds entitles it to a rank confiderably high among the branches of knowledge. It is of con- fequence to clafs thofe objeds and qualities which are agreeable, and to difcover, if poflible, the circumflauces which recommend them. To learn to give a realon for our approbation and difappro- bation in the fine arts, is as exalted an employ- zntnt as to learn to affign the rules by which na- t\^ral eveuts i^re prgduced. It tends to make n^ M On the EffeBs of Critical Knowledge^ ^c, 46^ more and more acquainted with the powers of our own minds. Here it is afked, What worthy produdions have been formed by the critic's rules ? The an- fwer is obvious. It is not the intention of criti- cifm to make an artiil : It cannot beflow upon a man the powers of invention and imagination^ and exquifite dehcacy of feeling : Thefe mud proceed from the hand of nature. But it can dired him to the proper ufe of them. The officer did not bellow on his foldiers the power of v/alk- ing ; but he taught them to w^alk regularly. The mufician did not give his fcholar the pov/er of moving his fingers ; but he trained him up to a proper ufe of them. Every man who excels in the fine arts muft obferve certain rules, in whatever way he obtain them, and the produdion would be monftrous in which no rules were obferved. In ftatuary, architecture, painting, and mufic, this is obvious to all. In eloquence and poetry, the rules are not fo eafily applied, but the mat- ter is equally certain : Tranfgreirions are more eafily overlooked, but there muft always be regu- larity. The knowledge of rules Vvili not confer powers, but it will direct thefe powers ; and it will prevent grofs deviations from propriety. The knowledge of grammar will never enable a man to write either perfpicuouf y or elegantly ; but it will enable him to avoid miitakes that are incca- fiflent v/ith perfpicuity and elegance. 466 On the Effc^ls ef Critical Knowledge^ JfiV. It is iiiriher itiKed, If there are not poets who have obtained great leputatioii. though they have tranigi c;Ted the rules of criticirm ? It is adiiiittcd thai diert: arc j and it may further be aGButted, that n > poet ha^: obtained reputation who has not tranlgrcife; : fox.ie one rule (>r other. But they hiive not obtaii.^d fame on account of their deviations, but in fpite of them. A man may have great excellencies, and yet be chargeable with fome foib'es, and will be eifleemed notwithftancling his defeats. Superior abilities will give plealure, though not recommended by every grace. A piece of agreeable news will be well received, though communicated in an unengaging manner. Befides, there are fome of the critic's rules of more value than others, and there is no eminent poet that has not pretty uniformly adhered to thofe which are of moll importance. On the other hand, a poet may rigidly adhere to the rules of criticifm, and yet not obtain high renown. We want entertainment to our under- itandings, our fancies, and our hearts, as well as to our tufte, and a writer who is reconiniended by nothing but his eleganc^, cannot exped: to Hand in competition with thofe who pofTe^s fuperior qualifications. He has the external figure, but he wants the living foul. After thefe obfervations, it will hardly appear that poetry is too \\htiiii\t to be confined by rules. On the EffeSis of Critical Knowledge^ Effr. 46/ and that by thefe reflraints it lofes Its fpirit and grace. It is to be judged of by principles founded in nature, and arifing from the exercife of the powers by which we diflinguifh thofe things which give pleafure from thofe that do not. It is only re- quired that it fhould poflefs the properties which are adapted to thefe powers, and which occafion agreeable feniations : It is required that it fliould be beautiful, or fublime, or intereftiug. This is no unreafonable demand, for unlefs it poffefs thefe qualities, it will not pleafe even thofe who know not the rules of criticifm. It af^s nothing but what mud be performed, whether there be rules reduced to writing or not. So far it impofes no reflraint. It firrther points out clafles of ob- jects that are beaudful and fubiinie, and diredls the poet's attention to them, and it feparates from them other claiTes of objeds that might be miflaken for them. It preicribes rules, according to which the objecls are to be combined ; but thefe rules are not arbitrary. It is by obferving them, that the objecls combined can be made to produce the bell effed. They refemble the rules that dired the jevv^eller in the arrangement of his pre- cious ftones : They do not conllrain, but afTiil him. The orator does net find his eloquence hurt, becaufe he is obliged to obferve the rules of gramiPxar : On the contrary, he finds it of ad- vantage to him in the communication of his thoughts, that his audience underflands grammar as well as he ^ and without this kaov/ledge ip. 45S On the tffe&s of Critical Knowledge^ Eff^. them., he would be apt not only to laake a weak ini- ' prefijon, biu even to be mifuiidei ilood. The paint- er does not complain that he is bound to obferve the "i-les of perfpeftive t He knows that it is by obferviiig thefe rules that his landicape will be iitied for producing the proper effect. He wifhes that the fpedator ihould be acquainted with the rules according to which he wrought, becaufe this krowledge will enable him to form a more favourable judgment concerning his picture. The fame mull be the cafe with refped to poetry : They who judge without rule, mud often be in the wrong : They may be moved and afFe6led by what is ftriking and pathetic, but they may alfo be influenced by falfe colouring : They may per- ceive the brillancy of a fimile, but be incapable of difcerning what he values much more, the con- dud of the whole performance. But how IS the remaining objedion, which ap- peals to fads, to be folved ? After Ariftotle wrote his treatife on poetry, there were no more poets in Greece ; and after Horace publilhed his epiflle to the Pifos, the mufes forfook Italy. If the know- ledge of the rules of criticifm was the caufe of this event, poetry would never have revived ; for all thefe rules were known at the revival of let- ters. But, probably, there might be fome other reafon for the fad. We are told the fame thing concerning oratory and fine writing : They alfo declined at the fame periods^ and fome have On the EffeSls of Critical Knowledge^ £ffr. 469 thought It was owing to the critical rules laid down by the rhetoricians. Architedture, by the fame reafoning, fhould have funk in Rome along with poetry, becaufe Vitruvius had difclofed its- myfteries, as Horace had done thofe of poetry. But this graceful art was not fo peevifh as her fifters : She only began at that time to fix her refidence in the Roman territories. Perhaps a better reafon for the decline of poetry and elo- quence may be found in the change the Greek and Roman dates underwent in the days of Arif- totle and Horace : It was then that they ceafed to be free, and became unfit for any fuch ex- ertion. I would conclude, then, that the arts are in no danger from criticifm : I mean true and ra- tional criticifm ; for there is an illiberal kind of cenfure that is fometimes dignified with the name of criticifm. This illiberal criticifm may have bad effedls, though they cannot be very formi- dable. It refembles detradrion with regard to the moral character : It proceeds from malice or fpleen, and is not founded on juft principles : Its decifions cannot long produce any confiderable effed. If a man of abilities runs a rilk of being ill treated on account of his performances, no doubt he may be averfe to throw himfelf in the way of danger, and he may want the mcitement to induftry that ciriies frpm the prolpsft pf fuccefs* 470 On the Effe&s of Critical Knowledge^ Ssfr. This, however, is only an accidental inconveni- ence, though it may fometimes happen, and is no more an objection to criticifm, than cafual oppref- fion is to regular government. DISCOURSE XIV. Ohfervations on the Punishment of Crimes, ** A LETTER. THERE are feveral circumilances in your fitu* ation which rqufi: afford you a great deal of pleafure, efpeciaaly the opportunity which you en- joy, and which I fee you do not neglect, of com- paring the condition of mankind in foreign coun- tries with what you were acquainted with at home, and of obferving the varieties which the difference * This Effay was formerly publifhedin ^^ Anecdotes of tht Ritjpan Empire,'^ by the Editor of this volume, along witli- the following Note : - " The Author of this volume had no notion, vv^hen he ** wrote the TJii.ty-fecond Letter, of the merit it was about *' to have with his readers. It produced this anivver, which " the ingenious writer has moll obligingly allowed him to " publiih. If the Editor could have prcfented every other " letter in the collection fo well fupported as that which " has occafioned this return, the foiicitude he now feels on " coming before the jpublic might perhaps have been IclTen'i « ed." 47^ On the Punljhmenf of Crimes, between them produces upon manners and cha* rader. It is flattering to our national pride, that you have hitherto met with nothing that tends to weaken your attachment to the liberty and the cuftoms of your countrymen. In your inquiries, the various regulations of police defervedly occupy a part of your attention ; and among thefe, the laws relating to the pre- vention or punifliment of crimes certainly occupy a very diftinguifhed place. Every good citizen ought earneflly to wifh, that the magiftrate Ihould be enabled to watch over the interefl of all the individuals belonging to the community, and to reftrain any perfon whatever from violating their rights. For the fake of abfolute fecurity from all injuries to his perfon or property, he might per- haps be difpofed to facrifice feveral other valuable privileges. There are regulations and eftablifhments of po- lice in other countries, which tend more effedually to proted the inhabitants from the fraud and vio- lence of their fellow-citizens, than any provifions that have been made by our laws. I entirely ac- quiefce, however, in your judgment, that fimi- lar plans, for prevention of crimes, would be at- tended with great and imminent danger, if they v/ere adopted in Britain. It is not to be denied, that in this ifland daring attacks have often been made by deiperate individuals upon the perfons :md properties of men ; and, on account of thefe^ On the Punifomeni of Crimes, 473 our unequalled form of government has frequently fuffered reproach among the advocates for arbitrary power in foreign ftates. The reprefentations of this evil v/hich have been given, are not entirely groundlefs, though they are fometimes grofs'Iy and induftrioully exaggerated. But even granting that that they are ftridly true, it will not be found eafy to devife a remedy that will not occafion more fatal confequences -than the diieafe. It is better to remain as we are, though fometimes expofed to danger from the feeble attack of a timid :\nd fkulking plunderer, than to arm a protestor v/i h irrefiftible powers, that may afterwards be openly employed to rob us of our moft valuable rights. I have heard of two fchemes that have bsen feriouily propofed, with a view to prevent the fre- quency of crimes, efpecially of robberies, in this country. — The one of thefe is, to erect a Board of Police in the capital, refembiing that w^hich is eftabhfhed in France, under the infpeclion of a fit perfon, correfponding to the Lieutenant of Police in Paris, who, by means oF ipies and emiifaries, and by means of information regularly tranfmitted to him from proper officers Rationed in the coun- try, may have a perLd acquaintance v/ith the re- fidence and tranfadlions of ail perfons whofe cha- racters are fufpicious. Ihe other fcheme is, to condemn all perfons, guilty of robbery, or of other grofs crimes, to bondage and hard ■abour.--- 1 am not fatisfied that either of theic propoI..!s, if car- 474' On the Pumjlmeni of Crimes, ried Into execution, would anfwer the end intend- ed by them ; and I am thoroughly convinced, that neither of them is adapted to the conltitution oT Britain, and the temper of its inhabitants. The firfl of thefe fchemes, by which it is pro- pofed to form a great eftablifliment of police, com- prehending many inferior departments, with their proper officers, is recommended by the fuccefs in preventing or fpeedily deteding crimes, with which fimilar plans have been attended on the Continent, efpecially in France. We mufl not, how^ever, al- low this confideration alone to determine our judgm.ent ) for there may be regulations well adapt- ed to the manners and government of other na- tions, that are inconfnlent with our fentiments, and Y/ith the fpirit of our conltitution. An obvious objedion to this plan arifes from the great expence with which the execution of it muft neceffarily be attended. It would require a vail number of fpies of dilTerent ranks, conncd- cd with one another by their fubordination to common fiiperiors. We can hardly fuppofe that thefe fpies could at all times polTefs a fufficient de- gree of intelligence for the purpoles of the efla- blifiiment, if they were lefs numerous than the officers of excife. As it might be neceffiary, how- ever, that, in appearance at lead, they fliould car- ry on fome ordinary bufmefs, with a \iew to con- ceal their real employment, they might not entire- On the Punijhment of Crimes. 4^^ ly depend upon the public treafury for iabfiflence, and niight therefore be fupported for a fmaller fum than the fame number of excife oflicers. At the fame time, when we reflect that fecret fervices mud be Hberally paid for, and that it might be requiiite to have fpies who could eafily obtain admilTion into fafhionable circles, there is reafou to believe, that the difference of expence upon the whole might not be very conliderable. Though the excife be a very productive tax, the nation has always complained of the heavy charges paid for collecting it. If a burden, equally grievous, were laid upon a free people, without any pretence of defending their country, or of annoying their enemies, it would be altogether infupportablc. The French, indeed, do not murmur ; but the French do not tax themfelves, and they claim no right to inquire into the expenditure of public money. There is another objection to this propofal, of much more weight than that which 1 have already mentioned, arifrnp; from the nature of our civil conflitution. A free people will never fubmit, for the fike of the moil perfed iecurity f;-om the in- jurious attacks of individuals, to the reilraint of ading always under the infpecrion of fpies. They will not allow their houfcs to be examined by ofli- cers of police, withoet legal warrants from the magilfrate ; nor will they bear with patience to fee their fellow-fubjects carried away to prifcii;^ G e z 4/6 On the Pimijlmient of C rimes', iinlefs they know the grounds upon which they are fufpe6ted, and are alfo allured that they fhall foon be brought to a fair and open trial. Men who love civil liberty, would rather choofe that their goods and perfons fhould be expofed to fome fmall degree of danger, than purchafe a complete fecurity from fuch injuries, by fuffering thofe who are in power to infpecl; every man's bufmefs and converfation. An eflablifhment of police, per- fedly adapted to anfwer its end, requires that cognizance fhould be taken of the falpicious as well as of the guilty, and is therefore inconfillent with liberty. It is only in arbitrary governments, that fuch great and regular fyftems of police have been car- ried into execution ; and there is reafon to believe, that they are fupported at great expence, z^nd with unremitting attention— much more from reafons of flate, than from any regard to the fecurity of the fubjed, or the good order of the community. The end which they have in view, does not appear to be fo much the puniihment or the prevention of crimes, as the fafety of the prince's perfon, and the maintenance of his authority. A defpot is at all times jealous and fufpicious : He dreads every whifper, as if it were the voice of a confpirator ; and his throne fhakes below him, whenever there is the fmallell commotion among his fubjeds. Spies are neceffary to bring him information of every thing that has the appearance of defign or On the Pimlfh?nent of Crimes* 477 ef exertion, that he may be enabled to preferve, through all his dominions, the flillnefs of night : But he endeavours to conceal his own fears, under the plaufible pretence, that all his anxieties are produced by his unceafmg attention to the fafety and fecurity of his fubjects. The fovereign of a free ftate is agitated by no fmiilar fears ; for he reigns agreeably to the declared inclinations of his people ; he pofTeffes their confidence, and can de- pend upon their affedions. As long as the fo- vereign of a free country is difpofed to rule agree- ably to the principles of the conflitution, he will endeavour to be directed by the general wifhes of his people ; and whenever he begins to fupprefs the open declarations of their fears and difgufls, and to obtain fecret and indirect information concern- ing their fentiments, he certainly means to increafe his own power, and to lefTen their influence : He diflrufls them, becaufe he knows that he himfelf deferves not to be trufted. A fyftem of palice, for the purpofe of detecting crimes by means of fpies, has, for a confiderable time, been carried on in London, under the infpeclion of Sir John Fielding ; but it is not extenfive, nor is ic fubfervient to any thing but the adminillration of juftice. It mud be conduced in fome way that is very different from its prefent form, before any fufpicion can reafonably arife, that it may, at laft, be made ufe of to ferve purpofes of flate. The bed of r-U'ler^, how-ever, are naturally defirous of increanng Gs3 4/3 On the FumJ}:)ment of Crimes, their po\\er ; and men who have privileges to lofe, ought for ever to be on rheir guard. The con- duct of the fufpicious mult fometimes be inquired into ; but let the nature and grounds of the fuf- ]:!icion under which they lie, always be made pub- licly known ; and let the inquiry be open, impar- tial, and not unneceffarily delayed. Not\\ithftand- ing every precaution that can be taken, the inno- cent may fometimes be unjuflly fufpeded, and may become fufferers by confinement before the truth can be inveltigated ; but let them never fuffer, unlefs flrong prefumptions. He againft them ; and let it be underftood, that fuffering is very different in its nature from punifhment, for though it may be fevere, it is not ignominious. The other fcheme, by which it is propofed to condemn certain clafles of criminals to hard la- bour, as well as the former, feems liable to ftrong objedlions. Punifhments of various kinds may be deviled ; and many kinds of them have been inflicted in different countries, fome of them with better, and fome with worfe effeds. All thofe which are accompanied with torture, are happily laid afide in our own ifland ; and, in the opinion of the wifeft men, ihould be aboliflied everywhere. "WTiy fbould the delicate, the fenfible, and the compaffionate, be wantonly fubjeded to that an- [,uifh Vvhich they mufl neceflarily feel, when they iirc forced to fee, or to hear of fufferings, that are blocking to humanity ? Is it even prudent to ex- On the Punijhment of Crimes. 479 pofe atrocious guilt in thofe particular circum- (lances, in which its bafenefs is concealed or pal- liated, by emotions of pity excited in favour of the criminal ? Such punirnments are inconfiilent with the natural principles of man, and \^ith the ends of penal fan£lions. The punifliments that are fliocking to humanity ought never to be inflifted ; yet there are crimes which juflify great feverity. Juftice may reafonably demand, that a man who has been guilty Ihould fuiTer in his fortune ; though, at the fame time, rigour, in this refpect, fhould always be avoided, when the future welfare of his family is connected, wi'th the forfeiture. A man may alfo deferve to be baniHied from his country, and to be legally divelfed of all thofe privileges which he formerly enjoyed as a citizen : He may even be guilty of fuch atrocious acls, that the indignation of man- kind cannot be fatisfied, if his life be fpared. Ba- nifliment and^ death are punifnments, by which future danger from the attempts of a perfon, who, by the perpetration of grofs crimes, has difcovered an inclination and capacity to injure fociety in its mod elTential interefts, may be efleclually prevent- ed ; and they diO not feem improper under any form of government. Deprivation of liberty is a kind of puniQiment that may alfo, in fome forms of it, be adopted in any civil community. Imprifonmient for a iimiteu G g 4 480 On the Fun'ijhment of Crimes, time, if it be regarded as a fevere, and not as a fhameful punifliment, may often be very reafon- able and proper. Even perpetual imprifonment is a fort of puniflimenr that is not inconfiftent with the principles of free government ; but in any ftate, whether free or defpotical, to retain a perfon who is never to be of any fervice to the community, and who might perhaps be ufeful ehe- where, feems to be a meafure unneceffary and in-. expedient. If there be a man, whom it is dan-, gerous to preferve in the community, the obvious dictate of common fenfe feems to be, that he ought to be thrown out of it, Inflead of prefer ving an ufelefs life in a ftate ol long impriionment, it has been thought a wife ex- pedient in fome nations, to condemn to llavery thofe criminals, v.hofe guilt is not confidered as heinous enough to delerve death, though their vi- cious inclinations are fo well known, that it would be dangerous to intrufl them with liberty. It has been imagined, that while their labour was a puniflmient to themfelves, it might be produdive of fome benefit to the ftate. This is the mode of treating certain claifes of felons ; which fome are defiious of feeing eftablifhed in Britain. There are feveral lights in which the tendency of this iort of punifhmcnt may be examined. — If \\'c look upon it as an engine of police, merely in- jtenacd to prevent men who are ill-difpofed from Gn the Puuijhment of Crimes, A'6l the commilTion of crimes, it appears to be very well contrived. While perfons, from whom dan- ger might be apprehended, are kept under the im- mediate infpeclion of proper officers ; while their tafks are regularly demanded from them, and the rod of correction is continually fufpended over their heads ; they can hardly find any oppor- tunity to injure the properties of others. — It cannot, however, be reafonably expected, that this mode of punifhment will produce any fuch good effect, unlefs the criminal be condemned to flavery for life. There are fome, indeed, who are inclined to believe, that hard labour, conti- nued for a limited courfe of years, may befufficient to anfwer the purpofe. They found their belief upon the perfualion, that a happy alteration in the manners and characters of the fufFerers may gra- dually be produced. I am rather of opinion, that every fucceffive year, the morals of perfons in fuch circumftances vdll become more and more cor- rupt. Slavery muft be followed vrith confequences entirely fimilar to thofe which attend other punifli- ments of an ienominous nature ; all of v hich feem very ill adapted to make any defirable alter- ation in the offender. A man who is fubjected to public infamy, immediately lofes allfenfe offliame, and bccon:es from that 'time bolder in guilt than ever he was before. This evil is common to all ignominious punifhments, when the criminal is per- ji^itted to furvive them, ai:d to c cntii:ue in th 482 On the PuniJ}?jnent of Crimes » fame fociety to which he formerly belonged. — But there are alfo other evils which are peculiar to that mode of infamous punifiiment which we are con- fidering. If it Ihould become common to con- demn felons to hard labour, it will be impoflible to keep them under proper difcipline, unlefs a number of them be cdlleded together ; and if they be permitted to live in fociety with one ano- ther, each of them will become more corrupted than he was before : And perfons thus trained up in the fchool of vice, whenever their period of fervitude expires, will become the mod daring of villains, l^he contagion of bad principles, which infeds every manufactory v/here labourers are col- leded together, cannot fail of fpreading with great rapidity among men who are fligmatized for their villany, and legally deprived of reputation. The lot of ilavery alone is fufEcient to debafe the minds even of the ingenuous, and muft render thofe who are already corrupted totally abandoned. If, there- fore, it be at all proper to make Ilavery the puniOi- iriCiit of crimes, it ought to be perpetual ; for in p.o other w^ay can it efledually prevent the difturb- ance to which fociety might afterwards be expofed, from the fame perfons who had formerly vio- lated its laws. The matter may be examined in another view. One important end of punifimient is, to prevent the future commiilion of crimes funilar to that lor ivhich the penalty is inflided. Condenination to On the PuntJJjtnent of Crimes, 483 hard labour does not fecm to be an expedient well adapted for anfwering this valuable purpofe. Its efFe6ts, indeed, extend to the guilty perfons who fuffcr ; it reftrains from injurious acls, fome of the worft members of fociety ; but it does not fuf- ficiently deter other perfons of abandoned princi- ples from committing the fame crimes for which they are fuffering. No punifhment can be very eftedual, unlefsit flrike the imagination of the fpec- tator ; and for this purpofe, it is not enough that it be fevere — it is further requifite that it fhould rarely occur. Slavery in iifelf is undoubtedly very fevere, even more fevere than death ; but it fel- dom appears to an indifferent fpedator in this light. The generality of men thoughtlefsly eftimate the lot of a flave, as not much harder than that of the labouring poor. They look only to his external appearance, without entering into the diftrefsful thoughts that are infeparable from his wretched ftation. Where llavery is eftabhfhed, the evils attending it are frequently expoled to view ; and the imprelfions which they make upon the mind, even oi the compaifionate, is fcarcely felt. A punifhment that is condnually exhibited cannot be very ftriking. We ceafe to-be moved with the moll (hocking fpeclacles, when we are accufiomed to fee them every day ; aad a villain will not feel much uneafnieis trom the dread oi thofe fufferings, which long obfervation has rendered familiar to him. 484 On the Punijhment of Crimes, It may be added, that condemnation to hard labour is the mod unequal of all punifhments that can be inflided. Death and exile are equally fe- vere upon the generality of men ; but the evils of flavery fill men \<^ith different degrees of diflrefs, according to the diverfity of their circumflances. A man who, during the greater part of his life, has been accuflomed to work with his hands, and whofe expedations fcarce ever rofe beyond provi- fion for a fcanty maintenance, could not fuffer nearly fo much, from being obliged to labour in a v/ay fimilar to his ordinary employment, as the man who has been brought up iw luxury and re^- finement. The fpend-thrift clerk of a grocer may be guilty of the fame crime with a coal-heaver ; but it would be moft unmerciful to condemn the for- mer to undergo the fame bodily labour with the latter. One of them wants entirely thofe habits, which the other has fpent his days in acquiring. Cafes might eafily be fuppofed, in which punifh- ments of this fort would be more fevere than any thing which the ingenuity and cruelty of men have been able to devife. A judge might indeed be allowed to difcriminate among a number of criminals, and allot to each of them the degree of punifliment which he thought proper and ade- quate to his offence, his conflitution, and his ha- bits ; but in a fro . flate, every difcrimination of fuch a nature is looked upon as grofsly iniquitous. A law, then, condemning criminals of a certain On the Pimijlojnent of Crhnes. 485 defcription to hard labour, though it might be attended with feveral advantages as a regulation of police, appears, at the fame time, to be infepar- able from various difadvantages that are more than fufficient to counterbalance all its falutary effecls. The inconveniences, hovi^ever, that have been mentioned, are not the v^hole, nor are they the mod alarming of thofe v^hich might be men- tioned. It is to be apprehended, that fuch a law, if it were executed with rigour, might indired:ly produce confequences of a public and mod im- portant kind. I am fully fatisfied that ilavery, li- mited to a certain term of years, will not anfwer the intention of preventing crimes. In order, therefore, to render a law, by which felons are condemned to hard labour, effectual in bringing about its end, it will be necelTary to make the pe- nalty perpetual. If the condemnation of felons to a ftate of bondage, which is to terminate only with their lives, were eflablilhed by ftatute, and if the law were rigorouily executed through every part of the kingdom, it is manifeil that the number of bondmen would foon become very great. The expence necelTary for fupporting the inflitution would, in a fhort time, become enormous and in- tolerable to the nation ; for the labour of flaves, employed in public works, and placed under the diredion of an overfeer who has no intereft in them, will produce nothing by which the charge of maintaining them may be defrayed. The ex- pences might indeed be lelfened, by employing 486 On the Fiinijhment of Crimes, them in the ordinary occupations of civil life ; but if this were the cafe, the diflinftion between them and other clafTes of citizens, would be too flightly marked to render their punifhment exemplary ; while, at the fame time, the honefl labourer would fuffer degradation in his own fancy and that of others, from the refledion, that he earned his bread by manual aci:s fo mean and fo fevere, that con- demnation to the performance of them was thought a proper punifliment for thofe who are the dif- grace of our fpecies. — The following feems to be the only remaining expedient for preventing thefe evils, if this fort of penalty be infilled upon, to wit. That thofe who may be condemned to hard labour fhall be made the private property of indi- viduals, who, being bound to maintain them, will have an intereft in obliging them to perform the talks affigned them. But Itill this expedient would bring along with it new inconveniences. It is greatly for the intereft of the community, that per- fons of notoriouily abandoned charaders iliould be kept by themfelves ; but, according to this fcheme, they would again be difperfed and mnngled with the great body or the people, whom they would have an opportunity to corrupt. Their punifhment might be abundantly, and even excef- fively fevere ; but being endured in private, it could not be exemplary ; and there is reafon to fear, that it would very frequently be capricioufly and iniquitoully infiided. It muft be added, that, from the initant when iuch ajeguhuion took effcdl. On the Fwiijloment of Crimes, 487 domeftic fiavery would be introduced, and fupport- ed by the authority of law. If domeftic flavery, in any confiderable extent, were tolerated, and a legal method of acquiring flaves inftituted, the horrors of that deplorable (late would appear to the imagination in colours much lefs lively than they do at prefent, and would foon ceafe to be fliocking, Cuftom and famili- arity would reconcile the minds of men to the view of mifery ; and in procefs of time, it would probably not be thought cruel to deprive men of their liberty for very fmall offences. The confe- quences might at lall become worfe than at firfl might be fufpeded, or indeed can be eafily con- ceived. In fuch circumflances, would an ambiti- tious ftatefman hefitate to court the favour of the rich, by freeing them from the burden of poor's- rates, v/hich might eafily be done, if the minds of men were reconciled to domefHc flavery, by adopting the plan for maintaining the poor, which was propofed and recommended, about the begin- ning of this century, by Mr. Fletcher of Saltoun ? ^V'ould he think it hard, to make thofe vv-ho could not fupport themfelves and their families, to^^ther with their v^ives and children, the legal property of their rich and powerful neighbour, who might be willing to fupply with food the feeble and the infant, from the profped of acquiring a fuiiicient recompenfe by their future labour ? As one flep naturally and infenfibly leads to another, v/e might 488 0)1 the PuniJJjment of Crimes, reafonably expect that a fcheme of this nature would be embraced, as foon as the minds of men could be brought to bear it. The ancient Romans allowed the perfon of a man, who could not pay his debts, to be fold. If we were accuftomed, as they were, to the deprivation of liberty, domeftic llavery would foon become univerfal. A ftate, in which domeflic flavery prevails, may be great and vigorous, and may enjoy very exten- five political liberty ; but its freedom mull be the freedom of an ariflocracy, under which inaufpici- ous form of government, whatever blellings may be enjoyed by a few, the great body of the people mull be in a condition of bondage and ignorance, very little fuperior to the condition of beads of burden. I have given you my fentiments with refpe^t to thefe two expedients for preventing and punifhing crimes. Both of them mufl, in my opinion, be inadequate, as long as they are managed confident- ly with the principles of free government. I think it would be highly dangerous to this country, to carry, them into execution in any degree whatever j becaufe it is not improbable, that, at fome future period, a minider inclined, as miniders often are, to increafe the power of the crown, might avail himfelf of them, to promote purpofes that were not intended by thofe who at fird propofed them. A free country can never be enHaved, till the cuf- toms and the feelings oi men be altered j but this On the Fumjhment of Crimes, 489 is a fort of change that may, by flow and mfenfi- ble degrees, be at lafl effected. In a ilate where the condudt of none of the citizens has ever been watched over by fpies, the minifter w^ho employs fuch emiflaries, for his own ends, will be univer- fally detelted. But if an eftablifhment of this jea- lous nature be already founded in one department, and the minds of men reconciled to it, fomething of the fame kind may, with lefs difficulty, be in- troduced into another. Free men abhor llavery ; but if they can be induced by motives of conve- niency to tolerate it in one inflance, they may gra- dually be brought to bear it with patience in more. If they can behold a felon reduced to flavery, without any emotions of indignation, they may be brought, by degrees, to behold thofe whom they defpife, or in whofe welfare they have no in- terefl, reduced to the fame condition, without feeling much for their mifery. It is the duty of a free people to watch over their liberties with a jealous eye, and to look even upon fmall circum- ftances, by which they are infringed or endanger- ed, as matters of great importance. FINIS. APPENDIX. No. I. An Account of fome Particulars In the Life and Characlet of the Rev. Mr, ARCHIBALD j^RTHUR, late Profejfor if Moral Philofophy in the IJniverfity of Glafgow, jl\s thofe to whom the preceding Discourses have af- forded fatisfaftion, may be defirous of having more in- formation concerning their refpectable author, than is announced in the title-page ; I fhall endeavour, but with- out attempting the arduous tafk of circumftantial biogra* phy, to give a faithful account of fuch particulars in his life and character, as may gratify fit curiofity, and co- incide, in fome meafure, with reafonable prepofleflion. The Reverend Mr. Archibald Arthur, late Pro- feflbr of Moral Philofophy in the Univerfity of Glafgowj "was the eldeft fon of Andrew Arthur and of Jean Snod- grafs. His father was a confiderable farmer on the eftate of Lord Douglas, in the (hire and parifh of Renfrew. He was born at Abbots-Inch, the farm polTcffvi^d by his fa- ther, on the fixth day of September 1 744. He received his earlieft education from his parents ; who, being per- fons of great worth, and having fuch a confiderable de- gree of knov/ledge as is not unufual among refpe£lable farmers in Scotland, were capable, while teaching their fon to read Englilh, of imparting to him other ufeful in- formation ; and of awakening in the tender mind of the child, thofe affections, and that fenfe of duty, which H3 494 . Appendix. — "No, L might afterwards be required of him in difcharghig (lie iriiportant fun6li(.>ns of manhood. Tho/e who have been fo foviunate as, Jike him, to have received their earheft ihflru6lion, immediately or direftly from attentive and. worthy parents, or, as much as poflible, under their in- fpcOion, will recolle£i:, with fentimtnts of grateful ten- dernefs, how, even in the very dawn of life, good dif- pofjtions, or excellent principles, may not only have been improved, but aimoft implanted. After completing, or during the eighth year of his age, he was placed under the care of Mr. William Baliingal, re£i:or of the gram mar- fchool in the neighbouring town ; or, to fpeak more agreeably to its population, the neigh- bouring city of Paifley. In his thirteenth or fourteenth year, he was r'emoved to tlie univeriity of Glafgow j where he received flill farther improvement in his know- ledge of the Latin language, in the clalTes of Mr.Moorhead ; and began and continued his iludy of the Greek language, in the dalles of Dr. Moor. Thefe eminently-learned profefibrs, not m.ore eminent for their tafle and erudi- tion, than for their goodnefs of heart, and attachment to early merit, foon difcovered in their pupil, a brilliancy of genius, and Itrength of underftanding, which, in their opinion, not only deferved, but required encourage- ment. This difccrnment, on their part, was fo much the more remarkable and meritorious, that his external appearance, either in form or features, was neither ani- mated nor prepofiefTmg ; that it was rendered ftill iefs fo, by an invincible baflifuhiefs, of which the habit continu- ed to clog his manner, or impede his exertions, during the whole courfe of his life •, and which contributed, per- haps, to promote, or to confirm a flight but ungainly hefitation in his fpeech ; from which he was never, but very feldom, or occafionally releafed. On fome occafions, however, when he arrived at manhood, and in the after Life of the Author. 495 courfe of his life, he experienced. fuch releafe. There were luminous moments, which his friends can never for- get, when the eafe of intimacy, and the hilarity ct tbcial enjoyment, unbaired his utterance, and gave vent to a tor- rent of molt impreflive elocution, lich in fcience, abound- ing with information, and flowing in a ftream of corredt, yet fpirited diction ; of which the eiFect f^jcmed to be fo much the more powerful, that its commencements were fo reluctant. Thefe, and fome other particulars of the fame kind, are admirably, and juitly exprt-'iled, in the fdl- Jowing pafiage in a letter concerning him from a learned and ingenious friend : — '* fie delighted chiefly to afFoci- <* ate with his friends in the Univenlty, or with a few '* clergymen of the city, or of the country, who knew his *^ m.erit, and who required not the probation of long in- <* tercourfe, or the laborious difplay of his talents, to ".enable them, to ercimate him juftly. In the fociety of •« thofe friends, his unprepoirciFing exterior was either <« never thouglit of, or it was initantly forgotten in the « full exuberance of fcience and literature with which «« his converFuion flowed. Yet even with thefe friends, " the Hril moments were generally palTed in filence, or « loft in abortive efforts to excite difcourfe. In a lliort " time, however, his powers were rallied ; and he be- " came, as it were, a new character. His embarrafF- <« ments wore off; and the ni oft brilliant thoughts, cioth- <' ed fpontaneoufly in the mofh elegant language, gave « life and interell to his converfation. Wit and humour, ■« literature and fcience, rendered it highly amufing and « inftr.ucfive. He feemed himfelf to have tlie molt ex- <« quifitc enjoyment in this new (late of mind, and in " getting rid of thofe embarralTments of fpeech and look, *< under which he had a few minutes before been labour- « ing." — In 'addition to this juif defcription, I cannot help alking, is it furpriiing that fuch enjoyment ihould H 4 49 6 Appendix, — No. L have been foliclted by his friends ? Solicited, and indui» ged by himfelf ? The attention paid to him in his early years, by Profeffor Moorhead, agreeably to the grave and fedate habit of that excellent and dihgent teacher, were uniform and fheady. The friendiliip of Dr. Moor, who poiTeiTed much vivacity of difpofition, and even fprightlinefs of humour, with great quicknefs of fenfibilityj was animated and a6live : and as thefe qualities were connected in his charadier with much kindnefs of 4:emper, and courtefy of manner, the abili- ties of the balhful boy were occafionally unfhackled from the reftraints of oppreflive diffidence ; fo that the fervency of his genius broke out in the ftyle and meafures even of poetical writing. Dr. Moor, no lefs than his fellow-^ftudents, were not a little furprifed at the fpirit and fluency of his performances : and the author himfelf feemed not a little furprifed, or even difconccrted, with unexpjfted applaufe. Yet neither did thefe early mti- niations of ability, confifting chiefly of tranflations from ancient authors ; nor did even his early efforts in original poetry, exhibit fo much ardour of fancy, as facility of ex- preffion, and accuracy of claffical knowledge. Hence we are led to remark the cool Deliberation in choice, and fteady Determination of purpofe, equ illy dillant from raih prefumption or ftubborn obitinacy, which formed a cba- rafteriftical hneament in the mind of Arthur. Of a thoughtful and filent habit, he appears to have reflected much, not only on external things, but on his own in- ternal conftitution : and to have thus become diitin6lly acquainted with his own inherent inclinations, the extent and peculiar capacity of his own intt^lledual endowments. He appears, therefore, to have duly appreciated his powers 5 and to have diifcerned in what departments he was beil (qualified to fucceed, or excel. He, in general, never wafted his time, or threw away his exertions on any im« Life ofihe Author, 497 iittdinable object. Though endowed with, all the fancy and fenfibiiity which may be neceiTcU'y in confummate tafte, yet not polTeffing, as he himfclf conceived, fo much as m.ight be neceffary for the energies of poetic inven- tions, he quitted the paths of imagination, notwithftand- ing the applaufes beftowed on his early ellufions, and directed the application of his vigorous and fteady mind to the acquifition of valuable knowledge. In like man- ner, without aiming at the high colouring, or animated vehemence of a figurative diction, he fludied, and was able to write with perfpicuity, with readinefs, with all that elegance which depends on correftnefs in the choice of words, and all that miclody which arifes from their proper arrangement. As no perfon, without being improperly carelefs or in- different, was lefs anxious about him^felf, or thought lefs ?ibout his own particular interefts \ and as no principle of aclion appears to have predominated more generally in his whole condu61:, than a calm and uniform, not an im- petuous or defultory defire of doing good ; we may rea- fonably fuppofe, that his own inclination, in the choice he made of the clerical profefTion, concurred with that of his parents. He applied, therefore, with great diligence, to that courfe of philofophical fludy which is held necef- fary to the knowledge of theology, and the duties of a clergyman. But as, with great fiirplicity of heart, as well as of manners, his chief or fole objecl, in literary purfuits, was to acquire necelTary, or fit improvement, his application was more afTiduous than oftentntious, and his proficiency more real than apparent. Mean- time, the capacity of his mind enlarging itfelf in the vourfe of intelle6tual exertion, became fo great, that in iiis riper years, no difcovery in fcience was too extenfive, or too vaft for his comprehenfion. Along v/ith this, his '.-b'N of profound and accurate thinking, difcovered 498 Appendk. — iVi. /. themfelves by the furprifing facility with which he was able to apprehend the moft abftrufe and difficult fubje£ls of philofophical and abftra6t inquiry. Nor was there any difquifition fo intricate, as that his acutenefs and per- fpicuity could not unravel and unfold its perplexities. Nor were his talents for extenfive comprehenfion, and the ready conception of fcientific knowledge, confined to any one department. Deeply (killed in the philofophy of the human mind, he was equally familiar with that of external nature. He feemed, in truth, to be more de- cidedly attached to phyfical than to metaphyfical or mo- ral fcience ; fo that as he advanced in life, natural hifto- ry and botany were his amufement. Long, indeed, be- fore his nomination to an academical chair, there were few or no departments, whether literary, philofophi- cal, or theological, with the exception of the medical fchooi alone, in which he could riot have been an emi- nent teacher. In fa6l, both before and after his appoint- ment to a Profefibrfliip, he le£l:ured, when occafion re- quired, in Logic, Botany, and Humanity. During the neceflary abfence of the Profeflbr of Church-hiftory, he le£hired for a whole fefTion of college in that department j •:^xvA his ledures were held in fuch high efteem, that a very enlightened clergyman, writing to a friend concern- ing him, exprelTes himfelf in the following very ftriking and impreffive terms : — " Thefe lectures were attended «< by a feleft circle of (ludents in theology, now almoil " all of them refpectable members of the Church of Scot- ''>' land, with an enthufiafm of admiration, which was, " at the fame time, an honourable proof of their own " tafte and difccrnment, and of the fuperior abilities of « their refpedcd teacher. Leduring on Tuefdays and «« Thurfdays, at the fame time that he difcharged his " « own particular duties, he brought the Hiftory of the « Church down from the creation of the world to the Life of the Author, 499 «< birth of our Saviour. The courfe was chiefly diitin- « guifhed for the rational and confiftent account which ly confidered, tends mod to the im- provement and happinefs of man ? — The fecond is, 'How a form of government which a£i:ually exifts, and has been long eftabliflied, may be changed, and reduced to a form which we think more eligible ? The fecond queftion is difficult in fpeculation, and ve- ry dangerous in praftice : dangerous, not only to thofe who attempt it, but to the fociety in general. Every change of government is either fudden and vio- lent, or it is gradual, peaceable, and legal. A violent change of government, confidering the means that muft be ufed to eifeO: it, and the uncertainty of the iflue, muft be an obje£l: of dread to every wife and every humane man. It is to wrcft power from the hands of thofe who are poflefled of it, in the uncertain hope of our being able, and the more uncertam hope, that, after Danger of Political Innovation, 5 1 9 a violent convulfion, it fhall fall into hands more to our . mind. The means of effecling fuch a change, are plots, confpiracies, fedition, rebellion, civil war, bloodfhed, and maflacre, in which the innocent and the guilty promif- cuoufly fufFer. If we fhould even fuppofe that a total and fudden change of government could be produced without thofe violent means ; that, by a miracle, thofe in power and office flioujd voluntarily lay down their authority, and leave a nation to choofe a new form of government : fup- pofe alfo, that, by another miracle, foreign enemies fhould not take the advantage of this flate of anarchy : What would be the confequence ? A very fmall ftate, like an ancient Greek city, when they baniflied their tyrant, might meet and confult for the common good. The ilTue of this confultation commonly was, to choofe a wife and difmterelled man, who was fuperior to themfelves in political knowledge, and to give him power to model a government for them. And this was perhaps the wifefl: method they could take : for a good model of government can never, all at once, be invented by a multitude, of which the greater part is ignorant ; and of the knowing, the greater part is led by intereft or by ambition. A great nation, however, cannot meet together to con- fult. They muft therefore have deputies chofen by *3if. ferent diftri6ts. But previous to this, the number and limits of the diftri(£l:s, the qualifications of the eledtors and candidates, and the form and method of ele£lian, muft be afcertained. How thefe preliminaries are to be fixed when all authority is dillblved, and the nation in a Hate of anarchy, is a queftion I am not able to refolve. Suppofmg, however, this difficult point to be happily- fettled, and the electors of a diil:ri£l: met to choofe a de- puty ; is it to be fuppofed that all, or the greater part, of ;he eledors, are to be determined by a pure and difmter- 520 Appendix, — No, IL efted regard to the good of the nation ? He furely knows little of human nature, who would admit fuch a fuppofi- tlon. We know, from long experience, how fuch elec- tions proceed. The poor ele£l:ors muft have their bellies or their purfes filled, their burdens leifened, or their fu- periors mollified. The rich muft have their private at- tachments and friendfhips gratified, or good deeds done, or promifed, or expected. There may, no doubt, be e- ie£lors, both knowing and perfectly difinterefted ; but the proportion they bear to the whole, I am afraid, is too fmall to be brought into eftlmatlon. Such being the electors, who are to be candidates ?^ — It were to be wifhed that they fhould be the wifeft and beft men of the diftri£l: ; but this Is rather to be wifhed than expelled. It Is evident they muft be men, who feave it in their power and in their inclination to offer the inducements by which a majority may be gained. With- out this, their pretenfions would be laughed at. To pafs over thefe things ; fuppofe an affembly of de- puties met, and a conftltution of government determined, unanimoufly, or by a majority ; whether this conftltution is to be impofed upon the nation by a defpotic authority of the deputies, or to be again fubmitted to the chbice of the people, I cannot pretend to determine, nor fhall I e- Bl^Vnerate the dangers that may arife from one of thefe ways or the other. After all the favourable fuppofitions I have made, It feems to me, that to bring fuch a govern- ment to a firm and fettled condition, muft be the work of a century. For, we may obferve, that the ftabllity of a government, if it be at all tolerable, depends greatly on its antiquity. Cuftoms and manners, by which we and our forefathers, for many generations, have been govern- ed, acquire an authority and a fan61:Ity, Independent up- on their reafonablenefs and utility. To this difpofition of human nature, I think^ it is owing, rather than to cli- Da?igsr of Political Innovation. r 2 r mate, or to any peculiarity in the genius of the people, that very imperfed forms of government, when, by a mild adminiftration, they have continued for many generations, and acquired the authority of antiquity, continue to fub- ilft after they become very tyrannical. When intolerable grievances are felt, that produce fedition, they are imput- ed, not to the form of government, but to the fault of thofe who adminifter it. Thus, in Turkey, a fedition is quelled by the facrifice of a Vizier, a Mufti, or fome- times of a Sultan, without any attempt to alter the form of government. Into this reverence for the ancient form of government, I think, we mud likewife refolve that maxim, admitted by all political writers, that when an ancient government is overturned, either by conqueft 01* by internal diforder, the fafeft way to eftablifli a new one, is to keep, as much as poiEble, to the old forms of pro- cedure, and the old names of officers. What I have faid hitherto relates to violent and fud- den changes of the form of government ; and the con- tlufion from the whole is, that fuch changes are fo dan- gerous in the attempt, fo uncertain in the iffue, and fo difmal and deftruclive in the means by which they are brought about, that it mull be a very bad form of go- vernment indeed, with circumftances very favourable to a change concurring, that will juftify a wife and good man in putting a hand to them. It is not with an old government as witli an old houfe, from v/hich the inha- bitant who deiircs a new one, may remove with his fa- mily and goods, till it be pulled down and rebuilt j if we pull down the old government, it muft be pulled down about our ears, and we muft fubmit to the danger of having the new built over our heads. But there may be changes that are not fudden and vio- lent, but gradual, peaceable, and legal. New laws and ordinances, v/ ifely contrived^ may remedy the defe<^s of Kk 522 Appendix. — No, IL a conititution, remove grievances, and promote general liappinefs. This mud be granted : yet fo limited is the wifdom of man, fo (hort his forefight, that new laws, even when made with the beft intention, do not always pro- duce the eiFe^l expeded from them ; or they bring un- forefeen inconveniences, that do more than counterbalance their good effects. For this reafon, even fuch changes ought not be be rafhly made j but v/ith good advice, and for weighty caufes. Surely every man who has the IkiU and ability to mend the conilitution, by fuch peaceable means, merits the blellings of a nation. And every con- ftitution, in proportion as it gives fcope for fuch amend- ments, by allowing due liberty of printing and petition- ing, and by giving the people a fhare in the legiflature, is ^n the way of having its defeats fupplied, and its errors corrected. We have the comfort to tliink, that, in this refpe^l, as in many others, the BritjJIjCanJlitution excels all others we know. The change made at the Revolution in 1688 was violent indeed, but neceffary. It afre(£led only one branch of the legiflature, and, by the good providence of God, was brought about, with fewer of the evils that common- ly attend fuch revolutions, than could have reafenably been expected. Since that time, we have had no revo- lution, but fuch gradual and peaceable changes, by new laws, as have improved the conilitution, and greatly pro- moted the profperity of the nation ^The relation between a government and its fub- je6ls, like that of marriage, or of parent and child, is ftrong and important. It is a relation inftituted by the Author of nature, as, without government, men muil be favages. To preferve and flrengthen this facred tie, con- cerns the honour and the intereft of both parties. The duties are reciprocal : protection and the benefit of laws on one hand j refpe<5l, fubmiffion, and defence in time of Bayjger of Political Innovation. 523 danger, on the other. Whatever is excellent in the con- ftitution, ought to be' the boaO: and the glory of the fub- je6l ; as we glory in the virtues of our near relations. If we fee, or think we fee, imperfections in the conftitution or in the government, we ought to confider that there •never was a perfeft human government on earth ; we ought to view fuch defects, not with a cenforious and malignant eye, but with that candour and indulgence with which we perceive the defects of our deareft friends. It is only atrocious condu6t that can diflblve the facred tie. While that is not the cafe, every prudent and gen- tie mean ihould be ufed to (Irengthen and confirm it. As he Is a good friend or neighbour with whom we can live in peace, amity, and the exchange of good offices ; fo is it a good government under which we can " lead quiet and peaceable lives, in all godlinefs and honeity." Glafgow Cornier ) Dec, 18. 17^4. on Theological Seminary-Speer Library 1 1012 01148 8428