THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 A 
 
 S E R I E S 
 
 O F 
 
 LETTERS, 
 
 ADDRESSED TO 
 
 SOAME JEN YNS, Es<u 
 
 ON OC C A S ION O F 
 
 HIS VIEW 
 
 OF THE 
 
 INTERNAL EVIDENCE 
 
 O F 
 
 CHRISTIANITY* 
 
 By A. M A C L A I N * D. D. 
 
 Minifter of the Englilh Church at the Hague. 
 Non tali auxilio - - - VIRGIL. 
 
 LONDON: , 
 
 Printed for CHARLES BATHURST, in Fleet Street. 
 
 M.BCC.LXXVII.
 
 ST 
 //CO 
 A T4S vZ 
 
 O T A T I O N 
 
 BY WAY OF 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 TH E miftaken principles of one 
 Chriftian Writer have been de- 
 tected and expofed by other Chriftian 
 Writers without referve. But Infidels, 
 indiffolubly leagued together by the 
 fingle tie of unbelief, fludioufly avoid 
 confuting one another : this conduct 
 fhews a determined refolution to fup- 
 port a beloved caufe by all pojpble 
 means ; and the caufe, which infpires 
 its votaries with fucb a refolution, is 
 not likely to be the caufe of truth. 
 
 GERARD'S Differ /. on Chrtjl. p. 354.' 
 A 2 COR- 
 
 G.r. c O 
 jL<t* 
 
 UBRARY
 
 CORRECTIONS and ADDITIONS, 
 
 PAGE 19, lint 8, in/lead of certainly, read cer- 
 tainty. P. 39, line ^, read the moft fublime. 
 P. 51, line 7, inflead of the only read only the and, 
 line n, put a comma inflead of a full flop at the end 
 of the word perfection. P. 57, line 13 and 14, i*-. 
 fleadof defending read defining. P. 74, at the end of 
 the 6tb line, which concludes with the 'words one God, 
 add the f allowing fentence : 
 
 Nay were it demonftrated, that the notions of a Tri- 
 nity, which are to be found in the Theological Syftems 
 of the Pagan Sages, were derived from fome primitive 
 Jlevelation, Judaical or Patriarchal, yet their being pre- 
 vious to the Chriftian Revelation is Mill iufficient to in- 
 validate your argument, unlefs you think fit to change 
 <*he Title of your Book, and call it A View of the Inter- 
 val Evidence not only of Christianity, but alib of Juan- 
 jfm and every other Revelation. 
 
 P. 96, line 12, inflead of tbe word of, at the end 
 of the line, read on.- P. 98, line 4, inflead of teas, 
 read is it true? P. 137, line jo, inflead of teaches 
 read teach. P. 142, line it, inflead o/"ftatutes read 
 ftarues. P. 200, line 9, read virtues. P. ^\^, linf 
 i, r/</embarraflinent. P. 124, line 10,

 
 
 Hague, &V. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 i 
 
 To SOAME JENYNS, Efq. 
 
 SI R,, 
 
 YOUR View of the Internal Evi- 
 dence of the Cbriftian Religion 
 had patted through four editions, be- 
 fore it came to my hands. My dif- 
 tance from the place of publication, 
 and fome other circumftances, pre- 
 vented my meeting with it fooner ; 
 though my zeal for the can fe it main- 
 B tains*
 
 T * ] 
 
 'tains, and the well-acquired fame of 
 its author, had rendered me impatient 
 to be acquainted with its contents, 
 I had been told that your Defence of 
 Chriftianity was new - t and, when the 
 Book arrived, I found it to be fo, 
 with a witnefs : for, though fome of 
 thefe novelties had appeared in the 
 writings of a fingular and excentrick 
 Genius upon the Continent, it remains 
 ilill dubious, whether they were de- 
 figned, by him, to do honour to 
 Chriftianity, or to undermine its cre- 
 dit. And indeed, Sir, I muft own, 
 that I had read two thiwis of your 
 Book, before I knew whether I Ihould 
 .place it on the fame fhelf with the 
 Treatife of Gilbert Weft, or certain 
 Writings of Samuel Chubb ; and I 
 begin thefe Letters by begging your 
 
 pardon
 
 I 3 ] 
 
 pardon for having fufpended, during 
 Tome moments of a difagreeable un- 
 certainty, the juftice that is due to 
 your upright intentions. An acci- 
 dental circumftance put me in a mood 
 that contributed not a little to the in- 
 jury I was likely to do you. I had 
 been reading the account, given by 
 Mr. Edward Gibbon, of the Progrefs 
 of the Chriftian Religion ; in which 
 the graved fubjecl:, and one of the 
 graved kinds of writing, are both, 
 difhonoured by a perpetual and unne- 
 cefiary fneer. * This had ftruck me 
 B 2 fo 
 
 * I fay an umecfjfary fneer, becaufe Mr. Gib- 
 bon lives in a country where a man may write 
 and fpeak as he thinks, without danger or mo- 
 leftation. He was, therefore, under no neceffity 
 *f aping the manner of fomc of the French Phi- 
 
 lofophere,
 
 fo much, that, when I took up yoay 
 Bcok, and faw the ftrange things you- 
 were advancing in defence of Chriftiar 
 nity, I began to fufpe<fl that you were 
 fneering alfo. This idea acquired a 
 certain degree of probability from ths 
 many accounts I have had of your fly wit, 
 and your eafy and elegant pleafantry ; 
 it did not, however, fquare fo well with 
 
 what 
 
 lofophers (as they are pleafed to call themfelves) 
 who cover their infidelity with a fedate and well- 
 difguifed irony, to efcape the fecular arm of 
 Religious peril-union. It is true, a. freer mr.j 
 have its place and time ; . but furely its place can- 
 not be hiftorical narrative, through which, ai 
 leaft, it never ought to reign ; nor is it a timt 
 to fneer, when Chriftianity is the fuhjecl of dif- 
 cuffion, becaufe this Religion has a profefled re- 
 lation to the mofl folemn and important interefts, 
 and has, in effcft, been a fource of confolation 
 -and hope to the wifeft of mankind in all agts.
 
 I 5 '] 
 
 t I have alfo often heard of you, 
 e /en that you pofleffcd the hap^ y 
 and agreeable art of being merry and 
 wife. 
 
 The perufal -of your whole Work 
 difpelled all my doubts. I perceived, 
 at length, that you were in earned ; 
 but I began to apprehend, left that 
 numerous clafs of our common adver- 
 faries, who are rather practical than 
 perfuaded Infidels, mould, on perceiv- 
 ing the fame thing, begin to be merry. 
 The boneft people of this clafs are ne- 
 ver fo rejoiced, as when they fee an 
 ill-judged defence of Chriftianity. It 
 makes them (I know not why, but 
 the cafe is really fo) go to the gaming- 
 table with lefs reluctance, and to the 
 icenes of lewdnefs with more tranquil- 
 lity. They foolimly perfuade them- 
 B 3 felves,
 
 I 6 3 
 
 felves, that a caufe, which is prepof- 
 tcroufly defended, muft be a bad one > 
 and, putting between conference and 
 futurity this new re-inforcement of 
 illufion, they return, with a new- 
 flu med confidence, to enjoy as many 
 moments of pleafure, as they can, be- 
 fore the bubble of exiftence breaks. 
 
 An illufion of this kind, Sir, may 
 be confirmed by your reputation, and 
 the mining abilities you have difco- 
 vered in treating other fubjecls. For, 
 if it fliould appear, that, with all your 
 genius and learning, you have de- 
 fended Chriflianity upon principles 
 that lead (as men may be differently 
 cifpofed) to enthufiafm or to fcepti- 
 eifm, many will be ready to conclude, 
 that the Gofpel, and not you, is- 
 chargeable with thefe confcquences. 
 
 It
 
 [ 7 T 
 
 It is painful to me to afTume the 
 tone of cenfure and criticifm, and' 
 that more efpecially, where a perfon 
 of your fuperior merit and abilities is; 
 concerned -, but I have the intereft of 
 Chriftianity too much at heart, not to 
 proteft folemnly againft your method 
 of defending it. Your view of its- 
 Internal Evidence is certainly excepti- 
 onable in many refpects. In general, 
 your reafoning is neither clofe nor ac- 
 curate. Your illuftrations run wide 
 of the principles they are defigned tp 
 explain and enforce.. One would be 
 tempted fometimes- to think, that 
 you, yourfelf, loft fight of tbefe prin- 
 ciples in the midft of the defultory 
 detail of arguments and obfervations, 
 which you bring to fupport them 5 
 and, while we admire feveral fine 
 B 4. touches
 
 I * 1 
 
 touches of genius, wit and eloquence, 
 that ftrike us in the midft of this 
 fplendid confufion, we lament the 
 want of that luminous order and 
 .philofophical precifion, that are indiP- 
 penfably required in a work of this 
 kind You look like a man who has 
 been fuddenly tranfported into a new 
 fcene of things, where a multitude of 
 objects ftrike him at once, and who 
 begins to defcribe them, before he has 
 had time to confider their arrange- 
 ment and their connexions. Or, to 
 ufe another figure that comes nearer 
 to your particular cafe, you look like 
 a zealous and fpirited volunteer, who 
 has embarked in a veiTel, furrounded 
 with enemies and afiailed by tempeftu- 
 ous weather, and begins to defend and 
 work the fhip, without that- experience 
 
 in
 
 I 9 1 
 
 in the art of Navigation, or the fciencc 
 of Defence, that is neceflary to enfure 
 fuccefs and victory. 
 
 I congratulate you, Sir, at the fame 
 time, upon your entrance into OUT 
 Ark^ which does not depend for the 
 final ifiue of its 'courfe on car-manoeu- 
 vres. It is firmly and compactly built, 
 though you and I may not confider, 
 -under -the fame point of view, either 
 the principles of its conftruction or its 
 various tendencies ; and, in fpite of the 
 ilorms of infidelity and vice, (which 
 beat agairift it, and retire in froth) it 
 will conduct us both, I hope, to that 
 peaceful harbour, where tumult and 
 diforder fhall ceafe for ever. 
 
 This may fuffice, Sir, -for my firft 
 introduction to your acquaintance : in 
 my following Letters I fhall enter 
 
 jpre-
 
 profefiedly upon the examination <jf 
 your Work, and conclude at prefent, 
 by afiuring you, that I am, with the 
 moft fmcere efteem for your virtues 
 
 and talents, Sir, 
 
 Your moft humble and 
 
 obedient Servant,, 
 
 A, M, 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 S I R, 
 
 E of the firft things, that ftruck 
 me in your Work, is the Propo- 
 fition you advance, page 5, viz. *' that 
 ** the credibility of Miracles and Pro- 
 ** phecies depends upon the internal 
 " marks of Divinity that are ftamped 
 ** upon the Chriftian Religion." This 
 aflertion, had it fallen from the pen 
 of an ordinary Writer,, would have 
 pafled without examination for a pal- 
 pable error in reafoning , but, coming 
 from you,- it carried a certai-n afpect 
 of authority that made me review the 
 principles of Evidence ; but thus I 
 eame, though without precipitation, 
 to the fame conclufion. 
 
 I (hall
 
 :[ r* 1 
 
 I mall not here. obfervq, that you 
 fall into, what the Logicians call, a vi- 
 cious circle, while, after proving the 
 Divinity of the Doctrine by miracles, 
 you prove the credibility of miracles 
 by the Doctrine. This inaccurate and 
 confufed manner of reafoning you 
 have in common with too rnah^ 6f the 
 Defenders of Chriftianity. I mail leave 
 this confideration afide, and mew that 
 miracles derive no pofifive proof at all 
 from the nature -of doctrines or pre- 
 cepts, or what we call the infernal 
 Evidence of a Religion. 
 
 Miracles are faffs out of the com- 
 mon courfe of nature, and therefore 
 can reft upon no evidence but that of 
 tejlimony^ handed down from the ocu- 
 iar witnefies in the faithful records of 
 Hiilory. Faftsin the courfe of nature 
 
 derive
 
 derive a certain degree of probability 
 from analogy, and are thus rendered ere* 
 dible by obfervation and experience : 
 but facts, out of the courfe of nature, 
 have no fuch characters of credibility to 
 fupport them, and muft therefore de- 
 pend on teftimony alone. What we 
 call the internal marks of Divinity in 
 the Gofpel give no credibility to mi- 
 racles, properly fpeaking ; they only 
 mew that the nature of the doc- 
 trines or precepts of a Religion fur nijb 
 no reafon to make us fufpeft that the 
 miracles are falfe ; they only prevent 
 'objections againfl them -, they only 
 hinder any proofs of their faliehood 
 from coming from that quarter : buc 
 this does not give them any degree of 
 Pefitive evidence. Nay, more, if 
 
 you
 
 [ 14 ] 
 
 you can prove from the internal Cha- 
 racters of the Chriilian Religion, that 
 its origin is fupernatural^ then miracles 
 areufelefs ; and, ifufelefs, improbable, 
 in confequence of that known maxim, 
 that infinite Wifdom does nothing in vain. 
 But indeed to a Deift, who demands 
 {Irict evidence, and will not put up 
 with ^entimental arguments, you will 
 not be able to prove from (what are 
 commonly called) the internal charac- 
 ters of Chriftianity, unfupported by 
 miracles, that the origin of that Reli- 
 gion is fupernatural. And from fome 
 of the internal characters, which you, 
 Sir, attribute to Chriftianity, I fear 
 a dextrous adverfary might even form 
 objections againft its divine origin. 
 
 What I call, and what are generally 
 called the infernal cbarafttrs of Chrifti- 
 anity,
 
 [ '5 1 
 
 anity, that difplay its excellence, and, is 
 conjunction with miracles, fhew its 
 Divinity, are the juft, rational, and 
 fublime reprefentations it gives of the 
 attributes in general, and particularly 
 of the goodnefs and mercy of the Su- 
 preme Being ; the fuiJabknefs of its de- 
 clarations of mercy, grace, fuccour, 
 and immortality to the guilt, infirmi- 
 ties, and boundlefs deftres of the hu- 
 man mind i the purity and fublimity 
 of its moral precepts, which are adapted 
 to ennoble and improve human nature, 
 and to lead it to true perfection and 
 felicity ; and the motives that it exhi- 
 bits to enforce the practice of univer- 
 fal virtue. Now what do thefe infernal 
 characters prove ? This only ; that fuca. 
 a Religion, according to our conception 
 of things, is not unworthy of God 5 or,
 
 [ i6 ] 
 
 in other words, that we fee nothing in 
 fueh a Religion that is inconfiftent 
 with our ideas of the Divine Nature 
 and perfections. They prove no more,, 
 according to the plained rules of Evi- 
 dence. But to prove that a Religion 
 h not unworthy of God (for any thing, 
 we know) is a very different thing from 
 proving that it comes from him by an 
 immediate and fupernatural interpofi- 
 tion. 
 
 Many things may appear worthy of 
 Godi in confequence of our general 
 conceptions of his- goodnefs, which 
 that all-wife goodnefs, ( in confe- 
 quence of relations and connexions 
 unknown to us, and of larger views 
 of publick utility than we can com- 
 prehend) may not think proper to ef- 
 tecl:. It would be confident with our 
 . notions
 
 [ *7 ] 
 
 notions of the Divine benignity, 'that 
 the Indians were enlightened with the 
 knowledge of the truth, and that the 
 immenfe Continent of Africa was in- 
 ftrufted in the dodlrines of celeftial 
 Wifdom ; but be 9 whofe goodnefs is 
 infinitely more pure, difinterefted, and 
 extenfive than ours, does not think fit 
 to diftribute his benignity in the mea- 
 fure and time that we would prefer. 
 
 We may transfer the fame method 
 
 of reafoning to the internal Chara&ers 
 
 of a Religion. Thefe, confidered merely 
 
 in themfelves, * prove only the excel- 
 
 C lencc 
 
 * I fhall confi'der in its place (for I chufe to 
 fiep rather than run through this important 
 fubjeft) thefe internal Chara&ers combined 
 with the Charafters and Capacities of the firil 
 Founder and Minifters of the Gofpel; and 
 tbenviz fhall fee how /'/wa/Evidence is afFefted 
 by external.
 
 I I* ] 
 
 lence of precepts and the utility of doc- 
 trines. They fhew us, that thefe pre- 
 cepts and doclrines contain nothing 
 that is unworthy of our pureft notions 
 of the Supreme Being; and we may 
 fay the fame thing of many of the pre- 
 cepts and reafonings of Socrates and 
 Cicero. But this does not prove that 
 the Teachers of fuch precepts and doc- 
 trines have received an exprefs Commif- 
 fion from above to propagate them 
 among men. This Commijfion can be 
 afcertained by miracles alone. The 
 pretenfions of thefe teachers to a Divine 
 Commiffion, though feconded by abun- 
 dant marks of probity, candour, and 
 benevolence, are not fufficient to prove 
 this Commiffion. They may be Jtn- 
 cere, but miftaken. The goodnefs of 
 their intentions, and even the benevo- 
 lent
 
 T 19 1 
 
 knt Warm th of their Zeal, may moreor 
 lefs deceive them in this matter. There 
 are degrees of enthufiafm, which, 
 though very remote from frenzy or 
 difordered reafon, are neverthelefs de- 
 lufive : and how can I be certain, that 
 this is not the cafe with the Teachers 
 in queflion ? This certainty can neve r 
 be complete as long as I confider only 
 their doctrines and their moral charac- 
 ters. (The evidence, that will arifefrom 
 confidering their capacities, mail be 
 confideredprefently.) All that this point 
 of view exhibits is reducible to the 
 following propofidons, which might 
 be addreffed to them even by a mind 
 defirous of believing : " Your pre- 
 *' cepts are excellent, whatever be the 
 * c authority on which you propagate 
 " them -Your promifes of pardon 
 C 2 " and
 
 [ 20 ] 
 
 *' and immortality are tranfporting 
 *' they anfwer the natural and bound- 
 " lefs defires of the human mind ; buc 
 " neither tbefe circumftances alone, 
 " nor your fincerity added to them, 
 " are fufficient to give me a full per- 
 " fuaficn of their accomplishment, or 
 " of your CommifTion to declare ir. 
 " 1 fee no more than a poffibility of 
 *' this, until the Being, who alone 
 " can pardon and vivify, gives me 
 " fome more exprefs proof, that the 
 " accomplifhment of fuch promifes 
 te are conformable to the general plan 
 -* c of hts Government, and that thus 
 " both his wifdom and power are en- 
 " gaged to fulfil them.'* 
 
 I here confider, Sir, the amount of 
 internal Characters, as you only can 
 make ufe of them againft a Dcift, and 
 
 mean
 
 t *I ] 
 
 mean to mew you, that this ufe is on. 
 ly a negative one ; that is, that it pre- 
 vents objections being raifed againft 
 miracles from the precepts and doc- 
 trines of Religion -, but can give no di- 
 re% or pcfitive evidence in favour of 
 
 the credibility of theie miracles. 
 
 What ! (will you fay) is it not worthy 
 of God to confirm fuch an excellent 
 Religion by miracles ? My anfwer is, 
 that I have not been let into the fecrets 
 of the Divine Government, the perfect 
 knowledge of which can only impow- 
 er us to pronounce any procedure wor- 
 thy or unworthy of his perfections. 
 According to my view of things, it is 
 not uxworiky of the perfections of the 
 Deity to confirm fuch a Religion by 
 miracles ; and even this is fomething : 
 but I am too ignorant to pronounce 
 C 3 abfo-
 
 [ J 
 
 abfolutely, that fuch a confirmation is 
 worthy of God, and that his perfecti- 
 ons require it, until I fee trie miracles- 
 themfelves, or know by fufficient Tefli- 
 mony that they have been performed; 
 Inftead, therefore, of faying, Sir, that 
 $he credibility of miracles depends upon- 
 the internal Characters of Chriftianity,. 
 you ought to have faid (if I am not 
 much mi(laken)that internalCbarafter* 
 hinder the doctrines and precepts of 
 the Gofpel from jarring with the con- 
 clufion deducible from miracles in fa- 
 vour of its Divine origin. 
 
 There is, Sir, I acknowledge, in 
 the precepts, truths, and promifes 
 of the Gofpel, a kind of evidence 
 of a Divine origin, that may be 
 sMt&fentimentat; but as this is rela- 
 tive to a certain caft of mind, to cer- 
 tain
 
 r *3 i 
 
 tain degrees of feeling and fenfibility, 
 that are neither univerfal, nor required 
 in all, we muft not bring it, with- 
 out the utmoft caution, before the fe- 
 vere tribunal of Evidence. The con- 
 fequenees of employing it would be 
 dangerous ; and though I fliould grant 
 that this is not a certain proof of it* 
 falfehood ; yet it is at lead a reafoti 
 for ufmg it fparingly. There is no 
 doubt but that, when the precepts, 
 truths, and promifes of the Gofpel, in- 
 fluence the heart, affections, and acti- 
 ons, they ennoble the mind, infpire 
 grand ideas of its Author and its defti- 
 nation, and excite that ferene hope,, 
 that calm fatisfaflion, that fenfe of dig- 
 nity, and that anticipating impreflion 
 of future felicity, that none but the 
 virtuous Chriilian can feel : and there 
 C 4 i*
 
 [ 24 ] 
 
 is no doubt but that this fiate of mind 
 is, to him that poflefies it, a new fource, 
 or at lead a ftrong re-inforcement of 
 Evidence. It gives new ftrength to 
 all the proofs aliedged in favour of 
 Chriftianity : it collects every ray of 
 Evidence in the heart, and thus de- 
 lightfully perfuades the virtuous Chrif- 
 tian, that Chriftianity is the offspring 
 of Heaven, as well as the friend of 
 man. When the Chriftian fees the 
 harmony that reigns between the 
 truths, the precepts, and the promifes 
 of his Religion, and the grand fcenes 
 it opens beyond time When he ob- 
 ferves the candour of its Founders, the 
 plainnefs of their ftyle and manner, 
 and yet the fublimity of the views 
 they unfold of the Counfels of the 
 Deity -, he feds that this Religion is 
 
 Divine:
 
 t *5 ] 
 
 Divine : he has an intimate conviction, 
 that it is not the fruit either of error 
 or of impofture : the moral improve- 
 ment, and the noble pleafure it admi- 
 nifters to his heart, carry to that heart 
 a fentimental testimony of its truth. 
 
 Bur, after all : fuppofing (which I 
 fcarcely believe *) that fuch a fentimen- 
 tal perfuafior\ of the Divinity of Chrif- 
 tianity could be obtained by a view 
 alone of its internal Characters ; yet 
 this will not do againft an Objector, 
 who will tell you, that he has no fuch 
 demonftrative feelings, and will con- 
 clude, perhaps from the ftrefs laid on 
 them, that Chriftianity is not founded 
 in argument. Prefent to him thofe 
 
 truths, 
 
 * Is this fentimental perfuafion in any heart 
 totally independent of the belief that Chrift rof 
 from the Dead ?
 
 truths, precepts, and promifes of the 
 Gofpel, that excite fuch feelings, and 
 let us fuppofe that, in this fyftem of 
 Religion, there are neither miracles, nor 
 pretenfions to miracles. What will he 
 reply ? He will reply, that Chriftianity 
 is excellent, but not Divine : He will 
 perhaps acknowledge, that Jefus and 
 his Apoftles were among the Moralifts 
 what Archimedes and Newton were 
 among the Mathematicians : He will 
 obferve, that the precepts of Chrift 
 may be within the fphere of human Ca- 
 pacity, whofe degrees are 'various in dif- 
 ferent perfons, and whofe limits, even 
 in this part of the great fcale, it is fo 
 
 difficult toafcertain. And, as to the 
 
 exprefs promifes of pardon and immor- 
 tality, the Objector will tell you, that 
 they are yet to be accomplilhed, and 
 
 that
 
 that the certainty of that accompfinV 
 ment is only deducible from thofe fam- 
 ples of power that were difplayed by 
 Chrift, when he calmed the tempefts, 
 healed the fick, arofe from the dead, 
 and fent down upon his Church the 
 Spirit of Wifdom, Victory, and Power. 
 It was then (will he fay, and I think 
 with truth) that Chrift, properly fpeak- 
 ing, {hewed his Divine Commiffion. 
 
 If, indeed, we confider the internal 
 Characters of excellence and fublimity r 
 that are ftamped upon the doctrines 
 and precepts of the Gofpel, in compa- 
 rifonw'rth the rank and capacities of thofe 
 who promulgated them to the world,, 
 a contrail will arife to our view that 
 changes the nature of the argument. 
 The apparent Son of a Jewifh Carpen. 
 ter dies upon the Crofs, by the hand* 
 
 of
 
 t rt ] 
 
 of Perfecution : He leaves behind him, 
 for his Difciples, a few fiftiermen, and 
 perfons in low life, remarkable for no- 
 thing, while he was with them upon 
 earth, but profound ignorance, natu- 
 ral incapacity, dulnefs of apprehen- 
 iion and erroneous views of their Maf- 
 ter's doctrine, intentions, and king- 
 dom. Now it is by thefe, manifeftly ig- 
 norant, dull, and incapable perfons, 
 that the fublime doctrines and truths 
 of the Gofpel are recorded and pub- 
 lilhed. Here, I fay, the tenor of the 
 argument changes, and here the proof 
 of a fupernatural difpenfation properly 
 commences. Why ? Becaufe we have 
 here a real miracle, and miracles alone 
 are the direff proof of a Com million 
 immediately Divine. So thar, the mo- 
 ment we confider the internal nature 
 
 of
 
 of the Doctrines and Precepts of Chrif- 
 tianity, in comparifon with the Charac- 
 ters, Situation, and Capacities of the 
 Teachers of this Religion, we have got 
 a ftep out of (what is commonly called 
 the fphere of internal Evidence, and 
 find ourfelves in the fphere of miracles. 
 This comparifon leads us to Divine 
 Infpiration, which is a real miracle; 
 and every miracle comes under the 
 clafs of external Evidence. 
 . The refult of the matter then ls t 
 that, as the purity of the metal does 
 not eftablilh its true and permanent va- 
 lue, nor allure its currency >, before it 
 be flamped externally with the mark 
 of the Sovereign, fo the intrinfic ex- 
 cellence of the Doctrines and Precepts 
 of a Religion, though they may pro- 
 cure
 
 I 30 ] 
 
 cure it certain marks of refpeft and at- 
 tachment, and make it pafs for an ufe- 
 ful rule of conduct, will not prove its 
 Celeftial origin, nor give it the autho- 
 rity of a Divine Revelation. The pure 
 metal will have a certain degree of me- 
 rit from its fubferviency to ornament or 
 utility, but there will be no authorita- 
 tive obligation to make it an inftru- 
 ment of Commerce, nor can men be 
 fure that its value will be always real, 
 To fpeak without figure or compa- 
 rifon, the internal Characters of great- 
 nefs, fimplicity, utility, and impor- 
 tance, may mine forth in a fyflem of 
 Religion and Morality. That fyftem 
 may be honourable to the Divine Per- 
 fections, for any thing we know to the 
 contrary ; it may tend to the real im- 
 provement of human nature, by its 
 3 happy
 
 [ 3i J 
 
 happy influence in teaching man hu- 
 mility, affording him confolation, ex- 
 citing in him hope, and pointing out 
 the rule he ought to follow, and the 
 mark to which he mould tend j but 
 all thefe marks of intrinfick excellence, 
 unattended with vifible and extraordi- 
 nary interpolations, may appear to ma_ 
 ny, as not beyond the reach and dic- 
 tates',of human Wifdom; and the judg- 
 ment of mankind may be various on 
 this head, in proportion to their diffe- 
 rent degrees of fagacity in difcerning 
 the marks and characters of truth. 
 
 Such is the cafe with what is com- 
 monly called the internal Evidence of 
 the Chriftian Religion it is infuffici- 
 nt to demonftrate the Divinity of any 
 Religion. 
 
 But,
 
 [ 32 ] 
 
 But, Sir, what you lay down, as in- 
 ternal proofs in favour of the Gofpel, 
 are, if I am not miftaken, fomething 
 worfe than inefficient for this pur- 
 pofe ; they would (were they really to 
 be found there) rather turn to its dif- 
 credit. This I (hall fhew in a fol- 
 lowing Letter. 
 
 LETTER
 
 [ 33 I 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 S I R, 
 
 TH E Analogy of Revealed with 
 Natural Religion, and the go- 
 vernment of providence, was one of 
 the facts which learned men have em- 
 ployed to remove the prejudices of fo- 
 berTheifls againft theGofpel of Chriflr. 
 It is one of the eflential Characters of 
 a true Revelation, that it be conform- 
 able with the puref dictates and eflen- 
 tial principles of Natural Religion, 
 and that it be not in contradiction with 
 the fundamental principles of human, 
 knowledge. Though it may perfeff 
 natural light, it muft not contradift it ; 
 though it may unfold to view/ww facts 
 relating to our felicity and deftination, 
 D yet
 
 C 34 J 
 
 yet all its Difpenfations muft carry a 
 proportion to our prefent ftate of be- 
 ing, and conned it with our future 
 profpedts ; and thus make the whole 
 of our exiftence a feries or chain, of 
 which the firft link is formed in igno- 
 rance and corruption, and the fucceed- 
 ing ones-afcend towards perfection and 
 felicity. Without this method of pro- 
 ceeding, the work of God is neither 
 uniform nor confiftent ; -Nature and 
 Grace are in contraft and contradic- 
 tion. How your ideas of the Internal 
 Characters of the Chriftian Religion 
 fquare with this, I leave you to 
 judge. 
 
 Your fecond proportion fets the lan- 
 guage of the Deity, in the Conftituticn 
 of Nature, in a direct 1 opposition with 
 the language that is fpoken in theDif- 
 3 penfation
 
 [ 35 ] 
 
 penfation of Grace ; a concefiion which 
 the Deift will turn againft the latter 
 with no fmall advantage. If the Re- 
 ligion contained in the New Tefta- 
 ment be, as you affirm, " intirety 
 " new, both with regard to its object 
 " and doctrines, nay TOTALLY unlike 
 <c every thing which had ever before 
 * c entered into the mind of man ;" it 
 can carry with it no degree of evidence, 
 but what arifes from Miracles alone, as 
 it can bear no conformity with our na- 
 tural faculties ; nor can it find a foun- 
 dation in thofe primary notions and 
 efiential truths that are the principles 
 of all knowledge and all evidence. 
 
 The mere novelty of a Doctrine is 
 
 furely no proof, either of its Truth or 
 
 Divine Origin : For, if it were, the 
 
 fantaftick dreams of Enthufiafts would 
 
 D 2 often
 
 [ 36 } 
 
 often put in a claim to a divine authcr- 
 rity. The Gofpel is compofed of 
 FaftSy Doftrmes, Precepfs, and Pro- 
 mifes. Novelty alone, proves neither 
 the reality of the firfl, nor the truth of 
 the fecond, nor the obligation of the 
 third, nor the certainty or future ac- 
 complimment of the laft. Falls, whe- 
 ther ordinary or miraculous, muft be 
 proved by Hiftory ; Doflrines and Pre- 
 tepts may be intrinfically ufeful and 
 reafonable, but their Divine Authority 
 can only be demonftrated by Miracles ; 
 and the certainty and accomplimment 
 of Promifes and Threatening* reft upon 
 the fame foundation. If, indeed, the 
 Doctrines and Precepts of a Religion 
 carry marks of fublimity, depth, and 
 excellence, difproportioned to the ca- 
 pacities and abilities of the perfons by 
 
 whom
 
 1 37 ] 
 
 whom it is published to the world, 
 then they bear the characters of a Di- 
 vine Revelation ; but then, Sir, they 
 come under your fourth Propojition^ 
 and your fecond is totally infignificanc 
 and ufelefs, becaufe mere novelty bears 
 neither the chara&ers of truth nor of 
 authority. Mere novelty does not 
 prove (as you affirm it does, in your 
 conclufion) that the Chriftian Religion 
 could not have been the work of man, 
 or any fet of men, &c. 
 
 But it happens, unluckily for your 
 hypothefis, that thofe Characters of 
 jntire novelty are ot really to be found 
 in the Religion of the New Teftament, 
 as that Religion is generally underftood 
 by Chriftians, or as even you yourfelf 
 have thought proper to reprefent it ; 
 and thus your fecond Proportion turns 
 D 3 out
 
 [ 38 ] 
 
 out infignificant in every point of 
 view. 
 
 The great and diftinguifhing Cha- 
 racters of the Gofpel are the fofitive 
 declarations of mercy to the penitent, 
 of fuccour to the humble, and of life 
 eternal to all fincere Chriftians, con- 
 veyed through the interceflion, and 
 ratified by the death and refurrection 
 of a Mediator. This pardoning mer- 
 cy, this gracious fuccour, this eternal 
 recompence to fincere though imper- 
 fect obedience, are clearly revealed : 
 they conftitute the clear and efiential 
 articles of the Chriftian Faith ; and 
 they adminifter to man, in this feeble 
 dawn, this infancy of his exiftence, 
 the richeft fource of confolation, and 
 the nobleft incentives to virtue and 
 moral improvement. Thefe Doctrines 
 
 accom-
 
 t 39 ] 
 
 accompanied with a Moral Law pure 
 and perfect, with the fublime repre- 
 fentations of the unity and perfections 
 of the Supreme Being, and the moft 
 awful and ftriking accounts of a judge- 
 ment to come, which is to determine 
 the felicity of the righteous, and cover 
 impenitence with confufion and mifery* 
 make the fum and fubftance of the 
 Chriftian Religion. Now, though all 
 thefe objects are prefented to us in the 
 New Teftament with fuch full and 
 .comfortable evidence as difpels anxi- 
 ety and doubt in an humble and can- 
 did mind, and with an interefting af- 
 femblage of circumftances, that con- 
 firm their certainty, and difengage 
 them from all the abfurdities and er- 
 rors that accompany the conjectures of 
 fliort-fighted mortals ; yet it is not true 
 D 4 to
 
 [ 40 ] 
 
 to affirm, that they are utterly unlike 
 any thing that before bad ever entered 
 into the mind of man. The hopes of 
 mercy, founded on the clemency and 
 placability of the Deity, or of inferior 
 Beings, who were worfhipped as his 
 Minifters, appear to have taken place 
 -in almoft all Religions ; and, if the 
 light of reafon was capable of de- 
 ducing from the Works of God any 
 arguments in favour of his goodnefs, 
 this muft have led mortals to hope, at 
 lead to conjecture, that fupreme good- 
 nefs would temper the feverity of 
 (what we call) Uriel: juftice, in favour 
 of the penitent offender. I am the 
 more inclined to entertain this opinion, 
 when I confider the notion which fe- 
 veral eminent Sages of Antiquity feem 
 to have had of the juftice of God : 
 
 they
 
 [ 4' ] 
 
 they call it the punijhing branch or fpe- 
 cies of the Divine goodnefs ; and thus 
 they came nearer to the true fenfe of 
 the term Jujlice^ in its application to 
 the Deity, than certain Theologians, 
 who apply that term to the Supreme 
 Being in the ftiff, rigorous, Law-fenfe 9 
 in which it is ufed at Guildhall, or in 
 the Old- Bailey. The Divine attribute 
 of Juftice is, certainly, in its primary 
 and general fenfe, no more than the 
 love of righteoufnefs and virtue, and a 
 propenfity to promote them ; and in 
 a fecondary and more confined fenfe, 
 (or in fome of its particular exertions) 
 it denotes the union of wifdom and 
 goodnefs in the punimment of diforder 
 and vice, to repair evil where it could 
 not be prevented. 
 
 The
 
 [ 42 ] 
 
 The facrifices of the Heathen Reli- 
 gions were founded on this notion, 
 whether it was derived from argument 
 or tradition , and therefore it is not 
 true, that the exprefs promife of par- 
 don to the penitent, which is one of 
 the diftinctive Characters of the Chrif- 
 tian Religion, is totally unlike every 
 tiling ivbicb bad before entered into the 
 mind of man. The Gofpel, indeed, 
 adminifters here a much more folid 
 foundation of comfort, than could be 
 adminiftered either by Natural Reli- 
 gion, or by human tradition ; becaufe, 
 notwithftanding the propenfity of 
 Divine goodnefs to pardon the peni- 
 tent offenders of this globe, (which is 
 Reducible from reafon) the ends of the 
 Divine Government, and the general 
 good of the univerfal fyftem, might 
 
 (for
 
 [ 43 ] 
 
 for aught that we could know with cer- 
 tainty) have demanded their punifh- 
 ment and, as to human tradition, the 
 uncertainty of its origin rendered it 
 but a feeble ground of confolation or 
 hope. Thus the hopes of mortals 
 were mixed with uncertainty ; and, to 
 the thinking mind, doubt about a mat- 
 ter that fo efientially concerns us, as 
 the pardon of fin, muft have produced 
 anxiety. And this is the peculiar ex- 
 lence of the Gofpel, that by a pofitive 
 declaration, conveyed by a Celeftial 
 Envoy, it confirms the expectations 
 that Nature fuggefted, and difpels the 
 fears of anxious mortals ; and there- 
 fore is not totally unlike whatever en- 
 tered into the mind of man with re- 
 lation to this point. 
 
 The
 
 t 44 ] 
 
 The fame may be faid of the exprefs 
 promife offuccour to the humble, which 
 is made in the Gofpel. It is analogous 
 to the notions that were generally en- 
 tertained by the wifeft Philofophers of 
 the Heathen World, with refpecl: to 
 the infirmities of human nature, 
 and the necefilty of a divine influ- 
 ence to fuftain the feeble fteps of man 
 in the paths of virtue. The ancient 
 and modern Platonifts aflert the rea- 
 lity of this influence in numberlefs paf- 
 fages of their Writings ; and what 
 they advanced from the conjectures of 
 reafon has been happily confirmed by 
 Divine Revelation. 
 
 With refpeft to the Doftrine of Im- 
 mortality , and a future ftate of rewards 
 and punimments, you yourfelf, Sir, 
 acknowledge, that it was taught by 
 
 fome
 
 [ 45 ] 
 
 fbmeof the Philofophers of Antiquity* 
 though mixed with much doubt and 
 uncertainty ; and thus you cannot fay, 
 that this eflential and capital part of 
 the Chriftian Revelation was totally 
 unlike every thing which had ever entered 
 into the mind of man. 
 
 Nor is the morality of the GofpeJ 
 though carried to a much higher point 
 of purity and perfection, than even the 
 feience of morals appeared in the belt 
 productions of the Pagan Sages, to- 
 tally unlike what we find in the Writ- 
 ings of Plato, Xenophon, and Cicero; 
 and as much may be faid of the Scrip- 
 ture Doctrines concerning the perfec- 
 tions of the Supreme Being. 
 
 Thus then it appears, that fome of 
 the leading and fundamental doctrines 
 of Chriftianity, as they are understood 
 
 by
 
 t 4<J ] 
 
 by the generality of the Chriftiarl 
 World, were delineated (indeed in a 
 feeble and imperfect manner) in the 
 opinions that were entertained relative 
 to Religion and Morality in the timess 
 that preceded the Gofpel. What, 
 therefore, is intirelynew in the Gofpel, 
 is not, as you obferve, its fyflem of 
 Religion, but the particular nature; 
 characters, and circumftances of the 
 Celeftial Envoy, who taught, con- 
 firmed, and propagated this Divine 
 Religion upon earth, by his Miniftry 
 while alive, and by his power, when 
 he had been raifed from the Crofs to 
 everlafting dominion. 
 
 But this, perhaps, you will not 
 think fufficient to invalidate your fe- 
 cond Propofition , becaufe I have not 
 taken your view of the Chriftian fyftem 
 
 into
 
 I 47 1 
 
 into confideration, in (hewing that tht 
 doctrine of the Gofpel is analogous* 
 inftead of being utterly dijjlmilar to all 
 the notions of mankind* previous to 
 its publication. I (hall therefore ROW 
 confider your reprefentation of the 
 Chriflian Religion, and hope to con- 
 vince you, that, even upon its bafis* 
 your fecond Proportion does not hold 
 true. 
 
 You affirm then, firft, that " the 
 <e objeft of this Religion is intirelynew y 
 " and is this : to prepare us, by a 
 " Hate of probation, for the king- 
 " dom of Heaven." And you 
 affirm, that, " previous to the 
 " preaching of Chrift and his Apof- 
 <c ties, no fuch prize was ever 
 <{ hung out to mankind, nor any 
 '* means prefcribed for the attainment 
 
 " of
 
 t 48 ] 
 
 " of it."' To have reafoned with 
 
 precifion, you ought, Sir, to have 
 kept clofer to the terms of your Pro- 
 pofition, and faid, that a ftate of pro- 
 bation for futurity was totally unlike 
 fi'sry thing? which had before entered 
 into the mind of man. However, as I 
 cannot fuppofe that you defigned to 
 retract this Propofition when you came 
 to explain it, I fhall, in difcufling this 
 point, keep to thofe terms, which you 
 have fomewhat changed and foftened j 
 though in reality, even with thefe mo- 
 difications, the Propofition is ftill inca- 
 pable of defence. 
 
 A ft ate of probation for a future 
 fcene was certainly one of the mod 
 natural conjectures that could enter 
 into a reflecting mind, who believed a 
 Deity, or Deities, and had any noti- 
 ons,
 
 [ -49 ] 
 
 tions, however imperfect, of a moral 
 Government in the Univerfe. It feems 
 agreeable to the reafon of things, that 
 all rational Creatures whatfoever 
 fhould, for fome time, be in a ftate of 
 trial, as we can fcarcely, if at all, 
 form a notion of a finite Being's arrive- 
 ing at either knowledge, or virtue, but 
 by progreffive obfervation, experience, 
 and practice, proceeding from fmall 
 and imperfect beginnings. This idea 
 is confirmed by what we obferve of 
 the proceedings of Providence in the 
 Natural World. Though Beings of 
 different degrees of excellence are 
 formed by creating wifdom, power, 
 and goodnefs, yet it is remarkable that 
 the mod excellent have their feeble 
 beginnings, as well as thofe of the 
 loweft order. The lofty Oak rifes gra- 
 E dually
 
 [ 50 J 
 
 dually to its pre-eminence in the foreft 
 from a fmall feed, as well as the moft 
 diminutive plant: In all the Orders of 
 Being known to us, the Law of gra- 
 dual improvement is the fame, from a 
 mite to a Newton ; and it probably 
 takes place in all fpheres, from a New- 
 ton to the higheft of finite Beings. 
 Every thing in the nature, flate, and 
 circumftances of Man, in particular, 
 adminifters, to the moft fuperficial Ob- 
 ferver, the ftrongeft intimations of 
 this. A Nature, fufceptible of virtue 
 or vice, as the influence of reafon, or 
 the rmpulfe of pafiions, predominate, 
 capable of being adorned with ufeful 
 knowledge, or vilified by brutal igno- 
 rance, placed in a flate where a variety 
 of objects, relations, and circum- 
 ftances, furnilhes the means of moral 
 2 improve- 
 

 
 f 5' ] 
 
 improvement or degradation ; and 
 thus fufceptible of high degrees oi well- 
 being ov fuffering. All this points out 
 trial actually exiiling, a flate of pro- 
 bation, relative to fome important end 
 and .purpofe. This end and purpofe can- 
 not be tfee only improvement attain- 
 able in this prefent life ; the improve- 
 ment of our powers and faculties is 
 fcarcely arrived at any degree of per- 
 fection. The virtues, acquired by re- 
 flexion and experience, have fcarcely 
 time to difplay their energy and beau- 
 ty, when we are called away from this 
 tranfitory fcene , and, if there were not 
 one more exalted and happy to fucceed 
 it, the efforts and improvement of the 
 virtuous and the wifer part of mankind 
 would be to no purpofe. Now this 
 view of the (late of man, as a Being 
 E 2 capa-
 
 [ 5* ]. 
 
 capable of degrees of perfection, which 
 none attain to in a prefent life, cut off 
 from that life in the midft of his pro- 
 grefs, and (which is the cafe of the 
 Virtuous) at the very time when he has 
 acquired, by trial, the capacity of 
 adorning and enjoying exiftence in the 
 bed manner : this view, I fay, mutt 
 have intimated to the wife and atten- 
 tive Obferver, in all ages, the notion 
 of a future fcene ; where enjoyment will 
 anfwer improvement, and improvement 
 mall be carried to higher degrees of 
 perfection. I don't mean, that this 
 Conclufion would occur to the gene- 
 rality of mankind : It might occur 
 to the attentive Obferver of nature, and 
 the vifible conflitntion of things j and 
 that it did occur to many of the anci- 
 ent
 
 [ 53 ] 
 
 ent Philofophers, is evident from their 
 writings. 
 
 It is true, there has been much 
 learned duft raifed in the controverfy 
 between Tome late Writers about the 
 Opinions of the Ancients in relation to 
 the immortality of the foul, and a future 
 .,.-'/* of rewards andpuni/hments. It is, 
 however, agreed on all fides, that both 
 were taught by the Philofophers, and 
 embraced by the people. And, though 
 it mould be granted that feveral Philo- 
 fophic feels did not believe any thing 
 more than the immortality of the foul, 
 and its infttfioninto the common Eterna^ 
 Principle, or TO &, and only taught the 
 doctrine of future rewards and punim- 
 ments, on account of its influence on 
 the happinefs and order of civil foci- 
 ety ; what then ? This is no more a 
 E 3 proof,
 
 [ 54 ] 
 
 proof, that all the Philofophers of an- 
 tiquity disbelieved this doctrine, or 
 taught it only with political views, 
 than the Deifm of feveral of our mo- 
 dern Sages, and perhaps of fome of 
 our modern Priefts, will be a proof to 
 Pofterity, that Chriftianity was not 
 believed in Europe in the eighteenth 
 Century. Befides, it is evident, that, 
 generally fpeaking, the Infidelity of 
 the Philofophers rather regarded the 
 fabulous accounts of the Poets, and 
 the abfurd notions of the vulgar, with 
 refpect to the nature, place, and man- 
 ner of future rewards and puniihrnents, 
 than the reality of thefe rewards and 
 punimments. 
 
 Now it is evident, that future re- 
 wards and punifhments, in their very 
 nature, imply a previous ftate of pro- 
 bation
 
 [ 55 } 
 
 bation and trial, in which the Virtuous 
 run a race, encounter difficulties, and 
 overcome temptations to obtain the 
 prize. And, fuppofing the notions 
 of this ftate of probation and thefe 
 confequent rewards ever fo imperfect, 
 and blended with ever fo many abfur- 
 dities and errors ; and granted, (which 
 we mufl do) that they were rather ob- 
 jects of probable conjecture, than of 
 perfect certainty *, it ftill remains a 
 groundlefs and indefenfiblePropofition 
 to aflert that the ftate of probation, as 
 it is defcribed in the Gofpel, is totally 
 unlike any thing that had ever before en- 
 tered into the mind of man, or is a Doc- 
 trine intirely new. 
 
 And, indeed, Sir, all your illuftra- 
 
 tions of this fecond Proportion either 
 
 mew that you forgot its ftrict contents, 
 
 4 or
 
 or that you were fenfible of its weak* 
 nefs. For, in thefe Illuftrations, * 
 you only mew that Chriftianity has 
 great advantages over the doctrines of 
 the ancient Philofophers, both in its 
 direct and ultimate end, and in the 
 excellence of the means it employed 
 for its attainment ; and this is unde- 
 niable, but it does not prove what 
 your Propofition announced. 
 
 Is it pofiible then, that the notion of 
 this ftate's being a ftate of probation 
 fhould never have entered into the mind 
 of man, when, as you tell us yourfelf, 
 " this notion is confirmed by every 
 " thing which we fee around us that 
 " it is the only key, which can open 
 " to us the defigns of Providence in 
 
 * Page 21, 22, 23, 4th Edit. 
 
 c the 

 
 C 57 J 
 
 " the (Economy of human affairs, the 
 " only clue that can guide us through 
 " that pathlefs Wildernefs, and the 
 " only plan on which this world could 
 " pofilbly have been formed, or on 
 " which the Hiftory of it can be com- 
 " prehended or explained." 
 
 The next thing you mention, in 
 proof of your fecond Proportion, is, that 
 " the Doctrines of this Religion are 
 " equally new with the object." To 
 prove this, inftead of pointing out. 
 thefe Doctrines with order, and defeat 
 ing them with precifion, you give us 
 the following mifcellaneous bundle of 
 vague afiertions : " The Doctrines of 
 " this Religion (fay you) contain ideas 
 4C ofG^, of Man, of thepr^w/and 
 " a future life, totally unheard of, 
 <c and quite diffi mil ar from any which 
 
 " had
 
 [ 58 ] 
 
 46 had ever been thought on, previous 
 " to its publication." As yet we 
 have only afTertion. Where are your 
 proofs? Of the four objects, with re- 
 fpect to which you maintain that the 
 Doctrines of the Gofpel are new and un- 
 heard of, you begin with the two laft, 
 contrary to all method, and tell us, * 
 that " no other (Religion) ever drew 
 " fo juft a portrait of the wortbleffnefi 
 " of this world, and all its purfuits, 
 " nor exhibited fuch diftinff, lively, 
 " and exquijite pictures of the joys of 
 46 another, of the Refurrection of the 
 ' dead, the laft Judgment, and the 
 " Triumphs of the Righteous in that 
 " tremendous day." 
 
 * Page 27. 
 
 Here,
 
 [ 59 1 
 
 Here, again, we have ft ill afierti- 
 ons, and no proof; and even your af- 
 fertions are ftrangely expreffed. * Pray, 
 worthy Sir, what do you mean by 
 the wortkkffiiffi of this world ?" The 
 term to me appears neltheTp&ifafopiHcal 
 nor theological, nor clear ; it even fa- 
 vours of invective and ill humour ; or, 
 at beft, fuppofes the object to which 
 it is applied divefted of every kind of 
 excellence and merit. The world, 
 phyfical and moral, is the only object 
 from whence we derive the knowledge 
 and proofs of the exiftence and per- 
 fections of a Supreme Being ; and 
 furely, in this point of view, it cannot 
 be a viortblefs world. The world 
 again, amidit all its imperfections, 
 exhibits noble fcenes of beauty and 
 grandeur, harmony, and order ; rich 
 
 mate-
 
 materials for the acquifition of ufeful 
 and delightful knowledge ; and many 
 fources of pleafure and enjoyment, 
 fuited both to our inferior and more 
 refined faculties and powers ; in this 
 fecond point of view, it is not furely a 
 wortblefs world, and farther; ftill, 
 the world is (as you fay and I too) a 
 flate of trial and probation for nobler 
 fcenes of Being in futurity ; and, as 
 this is an appointment of infinite wif- 
 dom and goodnefs, it cannot be in 
 this fenfe that you confider our globe 
 as a worthlefs world ; for this would be 
 contradicting what you had before ad- 
 vanced. If, by the wortbleflnefs of the 
 world, you mean that its external ad- 
 vantages are tranfitory in their dura- 
 tion, incapable of fatisfying the defires, 
 or completing the felicity of a ratio- 
 nal
 
 I 61 ] 
 
 nal and immortal Being; that they arc 
 mixed with difappointments, perils, 
 pain, fuffering, and various fources of 
 diftrefs , that folly and vice, in various 
 forms, are interfperfed with pretty cer- 
 tain appearances of wifdom and virtue; 
 if you mean this, all this is true j 
 but even then the expreffion isharlh,and 
 the Doctrine is not new nor peculiar to 
 the Gofpel. The obfervation and ex- 
 perience of mankind, in all ages, have 
 rendered this truth palpable, and the 
 complaints and fighs of the human 
 race have ever been abundant on this 
 fubject, nay perhaps, exaggerated. 
 
 As to what you call the diftinft, 
 lively, and exqut/ite pictures of the joys 
 of a future world, of the Refurrection 
 of the dead, and a laft Judgment, that 
 are drawn in the Gofpel ; they will 
 
 not
 
 [ 6* ] 
 
 not detain us long. They are indeed 
 infinitely fuperior to the fiftions of the 
 Poets, and the notions of the Philofo- 
 phers of ancient times j but this does 
 not prove that they are totally unlike 
 every thing of that kind that had before 
 entered into the mind cf man ; and this 
 they ought to be, in order to ferve as 
 examples of the truth of your fecond 
 Propofition. In fpeaking of thefe pic- 1 
 tures, you employ the terms diftintt) } 
 lively, and exquifite \ the two latter 
 terms are proper, for the pleafures of 
 futurity are defcribed in Scripture in 
 terms moftly metaphorical, that they 
 might be proportioned to our prefent 
 mode of conception ; but a diftinft ac- 
 count of thefe pleafures has been with- 
 held by the facred Writers for the 
 wifeft reafons. // does not yet appear, fays 
 
 an
 
 an infpired Apoftle, what we fc 
 and another Apoftle, who, favoured 
 beyond the Jot of Mortality, obtained 
 a tranfitory fight of the invifible 
 World, declared, that the things he 
 perceived there were unutterable. All 
 that we can collect from the literal ex- 
 preffions of the facred Writers, on 
 this fubjeft, is, that our knowledge 
 and benevolence fhall be increafed 
 and purified from every mixture of 
 error and malignity, and that fin and 
 fuffering fliall have no place in thofe 
 happy Regions. This is furely a 
 great deal: but the Declaration is 
 general, communicates no new ideas 
 with refpect to all the particulars of 
 future enjoyments-, and you know, 
 Sir, that particulars alone conftitute 
 and adequate ideas. The Fi- 
 gures
 
 [ 64 ] 
 
 gures and Parables, employed to re- 
 prefent the Kingdom of Heaven, give 
 us reafon to expert fomething very 
 great and glorious in a future fcene,but 
 leave us in the dark about the place, 
 manner, objects, connexions, and o- 
 ther circumftances of an interefting 
 kind. Our blefied Saviour, in his Pa- 
 fables of the Talents, feems to repre- 
 fent it as an active ftate, but gives no 
 intimation of the objects on which this 
 activity fhall be employed. The A- 
 poftles reprefent it under the general 
 notion of reward, under the compa- 
 rifon of feed-time and barueft ; and, 
 if St. John, in the Revelations, de- 
 fcends fometimes into a feeming de- 
 tail of particulars, yet, undoubtedly, 
 thefe are no more than allegorical vi- 
 fions defigned to intimate the fub- 
 
 lime
 
 f 65 ] 
 
 lime fcenes of future Glory, of which 
 the images ufed by the Apoftle are 
 intended to give us only a general and 
 confufed idea, which is, however, 
 adapted to excite delightful hopes. 
 Any thing that we can conclude about 
 thefe matters is from the probable con- 
 jectures of Reafon, from fome feeble 
 conclufions founded in analogy ; and 
 furely no words could be more proper 
 to fhew us that the facred Writers ne- 
 ver intended to convey diftintt ideas of 
 the Celeftial felicity, than thofe of the 
 Apoflle to the Corinthians, (if his 
 words relate to a future ftate) when 
 he faid, Eye hath not feen^ nor ear 
 beard> neither have entered into the heart 
 of man, the things which God has pre- 
 pared for them that love him. i Cor. ii. 
 9. You quote this paflage in another 
 F place,
 
 t 66 ] 
 
 place, and tell us, that " it defcrihs 
 " fublimely the future joys referved 
 " for the Righteous, by declaring, 
 " that they arefuperior to all defcrip- 
 " tion" whether this be a Bull or an 
 Epigram, I fliall not decide ; but it 
 fhews that we muft not look upon it 
 as one of the peculiarities of the Gof- 
 pel, that it defcribes diftinttly the fu- 
 ture felicities of the Righteous *. 
 
 * The truth of the matter is, that the Text 
 here mentioned was not defigned by the Apo- 
 ftle to defcribe, either diJSinftly or indijlinftly, 
 the joys and felicity of a future World, but to 
 (hew that the Chiefs and Leaders of the Jews, 
 whom the Apoftle calls (in the verfe preceding) 
 the Princes of this World, had no notion of the 
 fcheme, the nature, the intention, and end of 
 the Gofpel Difpenfation. For, if they had had 
 any true conception of this, they would net lavt 
 frudftd the Lffd of Glory > 
 
 I You
 
 You muft not, however, imagine 
 that I mean here to diminiih the en- 
 comiums due to the Gofpel on this 
 head ; for, on the contrary, thefe im- 
 perfect notices of the particular circum- 
 Jlances of our future felicity are evi- 
 dent marks of the Divine Wifdom. 
 If this felicity were diftinttly repre* 
 fented, it muft have been dcfcribed 
 in its progreflive growth through an 
 endlefs duration , but how render fuch 
 a defcription intelligible to mortals ? 
 The object is quite difproportioned to 
 our faculties. The Infant, in the Cra- 
 dle, might as eafily comprehend the 
 pleafures and occupations of active 
 youth, and the plans and enjoyments 
 of maturer years, as we (in this feeble 
 dawn ofexiftence, in which our views, 
 even of the objects that furround us^ 
 F 2 arc
 
 [ 68 ] 
 
 are eonfufed and inadequate) could 
 underfland a defcription of the Cele- 
 flial happinefs : for this happinefs may 
 be founded upon new inlets of per- 
 ception and fenfation, new afpefls of 
 love and benevolence, new modifica- 
 tions of a material frame, of which 
 neither Locke's five external Senfes, nor 
 Hutcbefon's- eight r nine internal ones, 
 will qualify us to entertain any, the 
 naoft diflant notion. 
 
 Nay were it fcjfibk to convey a 
 diftinft idea of the future felicity of 
 ChrHlians, it would not be expedient. 
 It would pour upon our feeble eye- 
 balls a blaze of light that would 
 dazzle and confound them ; it would 
 fill the mind with an aftoniihment 
 that would over-power all its facul- 
 ties - f it would fufpend our attention
 
 [ 6 9 ] 
 
 to fome of the moft eflential relations 
 and duties of life, and defeat, in 
 many refpefls, the purpofes of the 
 ftate of probation in which we are 
 placed j it would, at leaft, render 
 our prefent condition difagreeable, 
 and all our temporal enjoyments in- 
 "fipid. 
 
 It is therefore, in my opinion, an 
 evidence, I will not fay of the Divine 
 Miffion, but of the Wifdom of the 
 Gofpel- Writers, that they have not 
 pretended, any more than their Maf- 
 ter, to give diftinft ideas of future feli- 
 city. The PhHofophers and Poets of 
 antiquity, and the more modern A- 
 poftles of Mahomet and Odin, have 
 given much more circumftantial de- 
 (criptions of a future Hate, than the 
 F 3 Chriftian
 
 t 7 ] 
 
 Chriftian Writers ; but they are falfis 
 
 ,-*~ 
 and extravagant. 
 
 There is fomething, indeed, diftin- 
 guifhing and peculiar in the Scripture- 
 doctrine of the Refurrection of the 
 Body ; this is a Doctrine truly un- 
 known to the ancient Sages, and ic 
 was delivered to the World by Divine 
 Revelation, before the difcoveries of 
 corporeal transformations in the ani- 
 mal world had adminiftered a pre- 
 fumption drawn from analogy in fa- 
 vour of this Doctrine. But we have 
 already (hewn that novelty alone does 
 not prove either the truth or Divine 
 Origin of any doctrine, and the Re- 
 furrection of the Body muft reft upon 
 a promife, afcertained to be Divine 
 by a miraculous Teftifnony. 
 
 I pro-
 
 [ 7' 1 
 
 I proceed, however, to mew, that 
 even the Do&rines you alledge as II- 
 Juftrations of your fecond Propifttion 
 don't even bear the marks of that in- 
 tire novelty you attribute to them. 
 I don't think myfelf obliged to exa- 
 mine the truth of what you advance, 
 p. 27, where you tell us, that " no 
 " other Religion has ever reprefented 
 " the Supreme Being in the Character 
 * e of three Perfons united in one God 5" 
 becaufe, in a note on this pafiage, you 
 have declared it improper and unne- 
 ceflary to decide what kind of union 
 this is. Many learned Men have pre- 
 tended to find a Trinity in the Divine 
 Eflence clearly exprefied in the facred 
 Books of the Chinefe, Perfians, Chal- 
 deans, Egyptians, and Grecians : (not 
 to fpeak of the Writings of the Old 
 F 4 Tefta-
 
 Teftament, whofe Declarations on this 
 head I fuppofe you blend with thofe 
 of the Evangelifts and Apoftles:) 
 Thus Plutarch tells us, that the Per- 
 fian Oromafdes thrice augmented, or 
 triplicated himfelf, De Ifide & Ofir. 
 and the Perfian Magi celebrate, to this 
 very day, a folemn feftival in honour 
 of the T*7rAa<nof, or Threefold My- 
 thras. It appears, moreover, from 
 the teilimonies of learned Men, that 
 what the Perfians called Oromafdes, 
 Mythras, and Mytbra, were called by 
 the Chaldeans Life, Intellect, and Soul\ 
 by the Chinefe Hi, TV, and Ouei -, by 
 the Egyptians EiRon, Emepb, and 
 Ptha * , and the Hebrews Ab ? El, 
 
 and 
 
 * The Egyptians, according to the teftimony 
 cf Damafcias, looked upon thefe three Hypo- 
 
 ftafes
 
 t 73 3 
 
 and Ruacb. It is alib well known 
 that Orpheus, Pythagoras, and Plato 
 had like ideas of a Divine Trinity. 
 How far this Tri- union refembled what 
 you reprefent as the Chriilian Do&rine 
 on that fubject, I cannot determine ; 
 becaufe you have not thought it ex- 
 pedient to tell us whether you con- 
 fider the unity of the Three Perfons 
 in one God, as an Unity of Counfel, 
 Equality, or EfTence i but it is evi- 
 dent, that the tenets of Eaftern Na- 
 tions, above mentioned, are far from 
 being totally unlike the Do&rines of 
 the Trinity * in our Theological Syf- 
 
 tems; 
 
 (lafes as one EJJenct incomprehenfible, above all 
 knowledge, and praifed him under the name 
 of Darknefs, thrice rtpiated. 
 
 * If it is alledged, that this Doflrine of a 
 Trinity \vas derived, by Tradition, from fome 
 
 Ante- 

 
 terns 5 and they are fufficient to prove 
 your precipitation, in aflerting, that 
 no other Religion, except the Chrif- 
 tian, *' has even reprefented the Su- 
 ' preme Being in the Character of 
 J Three Perfons united in one God.'* 
 To this error, in point of faff, you 
 have in the next paragraph added a 
 finking one in point of reafomng* when 
 you affirm " that no other Religion 
 
 has 
 
 Antediluvian Revelation ; then the Doftrine is 
 not peculiar to Chriftianity. And beildes : 
 where are the proofs of this Tradition ? We fee, 
 every day, into what crude fancies learned Men 
 are betrayed by invefligations of this kind, 
 where the traces are ambiguous and uncer- 
 tain : we are greatly in the dark about the origin 
 of many opinions, which various circumftances, 
 unknown to us, may have contributed to pro, 
 pagate. Thank Heaven ! the Divine Autho- 
 rity of the Chriftian Religion dos not depend 
 on any difcuffions of this kind. 
 
 /* (V^t- W-T 7 ^-
 
 [ 75 I 
 
 has attempted to reconcile thofe 
 " feemingly contradictory, but both 
 44 true Propofuions, the contingency of 
 "future events and the fore-knowledge 
 " of God, or the free-will of the crea- 
 *' ture with the ever-ruling grace of 
 " /& Creator." That thefe Propo- 
 ficions are both true, I firmly believe, 
 as well as you ; that they are both af- 
 ferted in the f acred Writings is equally 
 evident ; and, if this is all you mean 
 by their being reconciled in thefe Wri- 
 tings, then we can have no contro- 
 verfy upon that head. But I, in my 
 fimplicity, have always imagined that 
 by reconciling two Doctrines, in ap- 
 pearance contradictory, was meanc 
 the finding out an intermediate link 
 that connected them together, fome 
 point of contact that made them co- 
 here,
 
 [ 76 1 
 
 her?, fome propofition that Chewed, 
 not only that they were both true fe- 
 parately confiderecU but were alfo con- 
 fident when compared together ; and 
 I mud confefs my ignorance, or ar- 
 raign your fagacity fo far, as to de- 
 clare, that no fuch intermediate link 
 or propofition have I ever found in 
 the Holy Scriptures, nor any attempt 
 made there towards its difcovery. 
 If fuch an attempt had been made, it 
 would have been fuccefsful, and would 
 have faved a world of trouble, wrang- 
 ling, and fubtility to the Necejfitarian 
 Metaphyficians from Zeno to Leib- 
 nitz, and to the Predeftinarian Divines 
 from St. Auguftin to Auguftus Top- 
 lady. But the Sacred Writers knew 
 too well the limits of the human un- 
 derftanding to attempt the ibludon of 
 
 a quef-
 
 [ 77 1 
 
 a queftion which is undoubtedly re- 
 ferved for another and a more exten- 
 five fcene of light and knowledge. 
 Like the Properties of Afymptotes, 
 the two Propofitions in queftion, are 
 fufceptible of demonftration, yet ftill 
 remain unreconciled and incompre- 
 henfible here below. 
 
 You add " no other Religion has 
 " fo fully declared the necejjity of 
 *' wickednefs and punimments, yet fo 
 *' effectually inftructed individuals to 
 ** refill the one*- and to efcape the 
 " other." I fuppofe you meant to 
 fay the necejjity of connecting punifloment 
 with 'wickednefs, and yet you have let 
 the phrafe pafs otherwife through four 
 Editions. If this phrafe be neither a 
 flip of the pen, nor an error of the 
 prsfs, I muft be fo free as to aflc 
 
 you,
 
 you, what you mean by the neceffty of 
 wickednefs ? that by your explication 
 of this we may know, what idea you 
 intend to communicate by effectual re- 
 fiftance to what is necejjary. For, if 
 this necefllty be abfolute, then accord- 
 ing to your Doftrine the Gofpel has 
 taught us to refift what is irrefiftible* 
 and may equally teach us to do what 
 is impojjible. And, if by the ambigu- 
 ous term in queftion, you mean what 
 the Metaphyficians call Hypothetical or 
 Moral Neceffity, I rnuft beg leave to 
 tell you that this is not any necefllty 
 at all, unlefs you confound neceffity 
 with contingence^ an abufe of terms, 
 indeed, that is too common, both 
 among Metaphyficians and Divines *. 
 
 I don't 
 
 * The divifion of neceffity into alfolute and 
 Hypothetical rcfembles that of the JriQi Dia- 
 
 leftician,
 
 t 79 ] 
 
 I don't recolleft, that the Scripture 
 fpeaks any where of the necejflty of 
 Wickednefs. It mentions often the 
 tyrannical influence of vicious habits, 
 and reprefents the difficulty of over- 
 coming them in ftrong, figurative, and 
 popular terms, which exprefs a certi- 
 tude > that, in fome cafes and fome 
 perfons, they fhall not be overcome, 
 but imply, in a ftrict and Philofophi- 
 cal fenfe, neither the impqffibility of 
 refiftance, nor the neceffity of fub- 
 jeftion. And it is not improper to 
 remark here, that, if the word certitude 
 were fubftituted in the place of mcef- 
 //>', it would remove much ambi- 
 guity and inaccuracy in both our Phi- 
 lofophical and Theological Difqui- 
 fitions. 
 
 Jeaician, who faid that all honeft men might be 
 divided into juft and unjuft, 
 
 It
 
 [ 8 ] 
 
 Ic is alfo going too far to fay that 
 " no other Religion pretended to 
 " give arty account of the depravity 
 " of man, or to point out any re- 
 *' medy for it *." If by an account 
 here you mean a narration, the afler- 
 tion is contrary to fact ; for the Reli- 
 gious Annals of all the Eaftern Na- 
 tions, of the Chinefe, Indians, Per- 
 fians, and Grecians, more efpecially 
 the fyftems of Pythagoras and Plato f, 
 mention notonly the depravity, buteven 
 the fall of intelligent and happy Beings 
 from order and felicity. From what 
 tradition they derived this fact, it is not 
 cafy to inveftigate at this time of 
 day ; but their knowing any thing 
 
 * P. 28, 29. 
 
 f See the Phasdrus of this Philofopher, and 
 alfo his Polit. 
 
 at
 
 t S< } 
 
 at all of the matter is fufficient to in-* 
 validate your afifertion that the Gofpei 
 alone " has pretended to give any ac- 
 tc count of the depravity of man," 
 unlefs by the Gofpei you mean not 
 only the New Teftament, but all th6 
 traditions both of the patriarchal and 
 even of the antediluvian ages. 
 
 But perhaps, by giving an account of 
 the depravity of man, you mean ac- 
 counting for it ; i. e. mewing how it 
 happened, and by what methods it was 
 brought about. Now, even in this 
 fenfe of the exprefllon, it is not exact 
 to affirm, that the Gofpei alone " has 
 " ever pretended to account for the 
 <c depravity of man." You might 
 have been fadsfied with maintaining, 
 that the Gofpei has accounted for ic 
 in the beft manner, though the wif- 
 G dom
 
 I I 
 
 dom of the facred writers has not 
 thought proper to enter, on this head r 
 into fuch a circumftantial detail as is 
 adapted to remove all obfcurity. * 
 But, however that may be, it is not 
 true, that no attempt had ever been 
 Biade to give axy account of the de- 
 
 * I acknowledge,, without hefitation, the \o&- 
 fiurity of fome of the narrations and doc~lrir.es of 
 Scripture. Here below we know but in part the 
 difpenfation of grace, as well as the ways of 
 Providence. Chriiiianity is a plan of Divine 
 \Vifdom, that is to have its full execution in 
 fcternity ; and it is, therefore, only in a future 
 fcene, that we can hope to fee diftinftly its vari- 
 ous parts, and the harmony of the 'whole. The 
 farts of this plan that are proportioned to our 
 capacities, and conducive to our religious and 
 moral improvement, are defigned to occupy us 
 here, what is myfterious, at prefent, will nobly 
 exercise our faculties hereafter. 
 
 pravit-f 

 
 pravity of man ; fmcc it is certain, 
 that the fages of antiquity have pre- 
 tended to account for the fall and de- 
 pravity of man in their own way* 
 Plato's account of the matter, among 
 others, is curious. You may fee it in fe- 
 veral places in his writings. In hisPhse- 
 drus more efpecially he imputes the fall 
 of men from the etherial and primitive 
 earth, " to their neglecting to follow 
 " the God guide into the Supra-celeflial 
 " place, where truth was to be feen in 
 " its fource : to their taking up with 
 cc neclar and ambrofia (i. e. fenfual 
 c< and accidental felicity) in confe- 
 *' quence of which they became heavy 
 *' and fluggifh, broke their wings* 
 " fell down upon the earth and entered 
 " into human bodies, more or lefs vile 
 ' according as they had been more or 
 G 2 " Ifrfs
 
 t *4 1 
 
 ee kfs elevated Then it was that 
 " good and evil were blended to- 
 " gether." 
 
 Equally groundlefs is the aflertion, 
 that no attempt had ever been made, 
 before the Gofpel y to point out any 
 remedy for the depravity of man. 
 No remedy, indeed, fo effectual as 
 that of the Gofpel, was ever exhibited 
 to the world j but to fay that no other 
 was ever thought of, or even that the 
 remedy of the Gofpel was totally dij/imi- 
 lar to erjcry thing that had been thought 
 of previous to irs publication, betrays 
 a ftrange unacquaintance with, or at 
 Jeaft an unaccountable inattention to 
 the ftate of Philofophy and Religion, 
 in the different periods of the world. 
 In the fragments of the Orpheic, Py- 
 thagorean, Platonick, and Stoick. 
 
 Philo-
 
 t 85 1 
 
 Fhilolbphy, in the accounts that .He- 
 rodotus, lamblichus, andEufebius give 
 us of the religious doctrines and moral 
 precepts of the Egyptian Sages, we 
 find the nobleft rules laid down for 
 the reftoration of the foul to its primi- 
 tive purity ; bun thefe rules, indeed* 
 were mixed with enthufiafm, and un- 
 fupported by any fuccours or profpecls 
 equal to thofe which Chriftianity ad- 
 minifters. They were, however, far 
 from being in oppofition to thefe rules: 
 they were not even unlike them. Prayer, 
 faith, the contemplation of the Deity, 
 virtue to purify from fenfual folly, 
 truth to recover the Divine Image, 
 and charity and love* which are rays 
 drawn from the eflence of God, were 
 the means prefcribed by thefe Sages, 
 to reilore man from his depravity and 
 G fyosa
 
 [ 86 ] 
 
 From the miferable confequences of 
 his fall. 
 
 You add, in the very next para- 
 graph, " No other (ReligionJ has 
 " ventured to declare the unpardonable 
 * 4 nature of fin, without the influence 
 4< of a mediatorial interpolation, and 
 " a vicarious atonement from the fuf- 
 " ferings of a Superior Being." I 
 own, Sir, I can form no diftinct idea 
 of what you call the unpardonable na- 
 ture of fin, without a vicarious atone- 
 ment. Allowing to this latter cir- 
 cumftance all the weight that is laid 
 upon it in the exprefiions, whether 
 literal or figurative, of the facred 
 "Writings, fuch expreiTions do not 
 prove that, without the expiatory fa- 
 crifice of a Superior Being, fin was 
 unpardonable. The Scriptures have 
 i told
 
 C 7 1 
 
 i-old us no fuch thing; they point 
 out the method chofen by Divine 
 wifdom and mercy for the falvatkm 
 of men, even the mediation and fuf- 
 ferings of Chrift , they declare, that, 
 through this mediation, the pardon 
 of fin, the fuccours of grace, and the 
 blefllngs of immortality are adminif- 
 tered to men , and it is only the pre- 
 fumption and temerity of unphilofo- 
 phical Divines, that have inferred 
 from the choice of this method, that 
 fin was abfolutely unpardonable with- 
 out it, or by any other. Are then 
 the beft method and the vnfy method 
 fynonymous terms ? Or are you fure, 
 that, as in the phyfical world, we fee 
 different arrangements adapted to pro- 
 duce \htfame effect, it may not be fo 
 in the moral world, and in the divine 
 G 4 govern-
 
 [ 88 ] 
 
 government ? I do not believe thaf 
 any rational Divine will, at this day, 
 maintain, that God could not have par- 
 doned fin without an expiatory facri- 
 fice, unlefs he affirms this upon the 
 principle, that God cannot do any- 
 thing but what is abfolutely the beft, 
 all things confidered ; and, upon 
 this principle, it may be faid, that 
 God cannot do any thing but what he 
 actually does. But that is not the 
 queftion : and, Sir, both you and I 
 ought to have clear ideas and accu- 
 rate expreffions, when we treat fuch 
 matters as thefe, and that in the face 
 of the fophifts of London and Paris, 
 who look out with a fharp eye, when 
 they fee fuch a man as you take up the 
 polemical or apologetical pen in fa* 
 of Chriftianity.
 
 [ 8 9 J 
 
 To determine whether or not fin is 
 .tin-pardonable without an expiation, we 
 inuft confider, before all things, what 
 thtparfan of fin means. But, before 
 we can form a juft notion of the na- 
 ture of pardon, we muft fix with pre- 
 cifion our ideas of the nature of pit* 
 xijbmenf, becaufe this is what pardon 
 is defigned to remove. Punifhmenr, 
 in general, is a certain meafure of 
 fuffering inflicted upon a free agent, in 
 confequence of the violation of a law; 
 and the only end of punifiiment, con- 
 ceivable, is the maintenance of the 
 authority and influence of law, or, in 
 other words, to enfure obedience. If 
 then we confider man in a (late of na- 
 ture, as a tranfgreflbr of the law of 
 Reafon, to which he is fubjected in 
 that ilate, this tranfgreffion is punifhed 
 
 immedi-
 
 immediately by remorfe, the natural 
 fruits of moral diforder; and, in many 
 cafes, by phyfical evil, which is the 
 effect of intemperance and vice. But 
 this is not all, Remorfe excites fear, 
 or an apprehenfion, that, befides the 
 internal remorfe of confcience, which 
 is one of the immediate fanctions of 
 the law of nature, farther marks of 
 difapprobation may be expected in a 
 future ftate from the offended judge. 
 This apprehenfion is juftified by the 
 following confideration, that the fanc- 
 tion of remorfe is lead felt, in this 
 world, by the greateft offenders, and 
 is diminifhed in proportion as the cor- 
 ruption and perverfenefs of the finner 
 increafe, while, on the other hand, 
 the external advantages of life, in con- 
 frquence of the eftablifhment of gene- 
 ral
 
 [ 9' ] 
 
 *al laws, fall frequently to the lot of 
 the vicious apd the profligate. It is. 
 therefore concluded, that external pu- 
 nifhment will, in futurity, be fuper- 
 added to the natural effects of iniqui- 
 ty, as po/tlive penalties are annexed to 
 crimes in wifdom (and indeed in good- 
 nefs to the community) here below, 
 to fupport the laws of order, and to 
 terrify fpeftators from tranfgreffion. 
 
 Now, Sir, you will pleafe to re- 
 mark that this external punilhmenc 
 alone can be the object of pardon : 
 for this pardon cannot mean that the 
 Law-giver and Judge approves of fin : 
 nor can it mean, that he removes that 
 felf-difapprobation and remorfe, which 
 are the natural functions of his vio-r 
 lated law in the heart of man , for 
 thefe can only be removed by the re- 
 
 ftoration
 
 r 9* ] 
 
 ftoration of a virtuous frame to the 
 mind, by the diminution or cefTation 
 of a vicious tafte, irregular propenfi- 
 ties, corrupt habits, and bad actions. 
 The external punifhment that is an- 
 nexed to fin, either for the correction 
 of the guilty, or the admonition of 
 the fpectators, is therefore the only ob- 
 ject on which pardon can produce its 
 effect. Now as this external punifh- 
 ment is annexed to fin, not in the na- 
 ture of things like remorfe, but by 
 fofitive appointment, as a method of 
 government, it may be abolifhed for 
 reafons of clemency or wifdom ; and 
 thus it appears, that fin is pardonable, 
 If, indeed, the punifhment, here men- 
 tioned, were annexed to fin in the na- 
 ture of things, and by the eflential 
 conftkution of the human mind, then
 
 [ 93 3 
 
 fin would be unpardonable, and even 
 the intervention of a Mediator could 
 not remove it , and thus we fee that 
 the intervention of Chrift neither heals 
 the remorfe of confcience, until vir- 
 tue is reftored ; nor prevents the arri- 
 val of many phyfical evils (and of 
 death among others) that are conmtted 
 with moral diforder in the prefent con- 
 ftitution of human nature. But I re- 
 peat it again, this external punifh- 
 ment, as it is diftind from the natural 
 effects of fin, and is fuperadded to 
 tbefe, for purpofes of example and 
 admonition, may be fufpended and 
 remitted in certain caies, without the 
 intervention of a vicarious atonement! 
 and the juftice of the Divine Legiflator 
 is no more impeached by this remif- 
 fion, than that of an earthly prince 
 
 would
 
 [ 94 ] 
 
 would be, who, from reafons of cle- 
 mency or prudence, and in the cafe of 
 malefactors, who are proper objects 
 of mercy, mitigates and fuperfedes, 
 without any atonement to govern- 
 ment, the rigorous execution of penal 
 laws. The harm doctrine of what 
 fcholaftick Divines call vindictive jt<f<- 
 tice has raifed all this duft and per- 
 plexity about a fubject that is as clear 
 as the fun at noon-day. But it is to 
 be feared, that this doctrine has been 
 rather modelled on the angry and re- 
 vengeful paffions of men, than on the 
 calm and benevolent rectitude of God j 
 and certainly (as fome reprefent it) it 
 is as contrary to the genius of true Re- 
 ligion as it is to the principles of 
 found philofophy. If men did but 
 ccnfider, that there is no fixed and in- 
 
 trinfic
 
 t 95 ] 
 
 tr'mfic proportion between external pu* 
 nijhment and moral evil or demerit,- 
 that this varies according to charac- 
 ters, circumftances, times, and places, 
 * nay, that the external punifhment 
 is often increafed by thofe very circum- 
 ftances that diminifh the demerit or 
 guilt on which it is inflicted, f they 
 
 would 
 
 * If in one country a degree of external pn~ 
 nifhment, as two, would be fufficient to prevent 
 the prevalence of robbery and murder, while in 
 another country, a degree, as five, would be 
 requifite to prod,uce the fame effect; the pu- 
 nilhment of the fame crime would and (hould 
 vary in different countries. 
 
 f When the number of vicious examples en- 
 creafes in a country, external punifhments muft 
 cncreafe in feverity : and yet the perfon, who 
 tranfgrefles under the influence and feduflion of 
 multiplied examples, is lefs guilty, and has lefs 
 
 real
 
 [ 96 ] 
 
 wouJd form more accurate notions of 
 this matter: they would fee that all 
 fuch punifhments may be varied, fuf> 
 pended, increafed, or abolifhed, as the 
 ends of government may require. 
 
 Thefe obfervations, Sir, are neither 
 defigned nor adapted to diminifh the 
 value and importance of that ineftima- 
 ble facrifae, which the Divine Medi- 
 $tor made of himfelf for the fins of the 
 world ; they only tend to prevent our 
 forming falfe ideas of the principles^of 
 which the doctrine of mediation refts, 
 and to flievv us that thefacrirke of the 
 crofs was rather an expedient of 
 choice and wifdont to fupport moral go- 
 vernment, and difplay the tremendous 
 
 real demerit, than he who is profligate where 
 the examples of iniquity are lefs frequent and 
 numerous. 
 
 fruits
 
 t 97 ] 
 
 fruits of fin and diforder, than a mat- 
 ter of ncctffitj, which unrelenting juf- 
 tice required as an oblation, independ- 
 ently on the effects which this facrifice 
 was to produce on the fpectators of 
 this aftonifhing and awful fcene. No- 
 thing is more true than the declaration 
 of the Apoftle, that it became him 
 for whom are all things, and by whom 
 are all things, by bringing many fans unto 
 glory, to make the Captain of their fal- 
 vation perfeft through fufferings. Heb. 
 ii. 10. The fufferings of Chrift ren- 
 dered him perfett, both as a Mediator 
 who was to difplay the fatal confe- 
 quences of fin under a righteous go- 
 vernment, and as a model that was to 
 hold forth to mankind the mod fub- 
 lime example of patience and refigna- 
 H tion,
 
 [ 98 1 
 
 lion under the tranfitory evils of s 
 probationary (late. 
 
 But, fetting afide all this reafoning, 
 \A- true, Sir, in fact, as you affirm, 
 *' that no other Religion, except the 
 ct Chriftian, has ever ventured to de- 
 " clare the unpardonable nature of fin, 
 w without the influence of a mediato- 
 c< rial interpofition, and a vicarious 
 *' atonement from the fufferings of a 
 " Superior Being r" Though I mould 
 not pretend to deny entirely this affir- 
 mation, on account of the words Su- 
 perior Beings yet I may obferve, that 
 the prevalence of facrifices, and thofe 
 expiatory, in all ages of the world 
 known to us, feems to intimate an ap- 
 prehenfion in the mind of man, that 
 fome vicarious atonement was requifite 
 in order to the pardon of fin ; and 
 i this 

 
 [ 99 ] 
 
 tills is fufficient to invalidate your af- 
 firmation, if it be alledged as a proof 
 of yourfecond Proportion ; for the pre- 
 valence of expiatory facrifices in the 
 heathen world, from the earlieft tirnes^ 
 fhews, at lead, that the doctrine, in 
 queftion, is not " entirely unlike every 
 " thing that before had entered into 
 " the mind of man." But what would 
 you fay, if, following tenets of the 
 ancient eaftern nations, mentioned 
 above, we found veftiges of a middle 
 Being of great dignity, whofe fuffer* 
 ings were fuppofed to contribute to 
 the reftoration of fallen intelligences ? 
 I might indeed, Sir, have fpared 
 myfelf the trouble of mewing, tha t 
 novelty is not the diftinguifhing cha- 
 racter of the fyftem of doctrine, which 
 you deduce as new from the writings 
 H 2 o
 
 of theEvangelifts and Apoftles, if your 
 CONCLUSION, and the reigning princi- 
 ples of your Treatife, were confident 
 with what you acknowledge, p. 30. 
 where you tell us, " that the credibi- 
 ' lity of thefe wonderful doctrines de- 
 *' pends on the opinion which w*en- 
 ' tertain of the authority of tbofe who 
 " publifhed them to the world." I 
 wiped my eyes twice or thrice, to be 
 fure that I faw this pafiage well. The 
 truth then, or internal evidence of 
 thefe Doctrines does not depend on 
 their novelty, but on the authority of 
 the publimers. I think fo too but 
 on what does the authority of the pub- 
 lilhers depend ? You will not fay, I 
 hope at this moment, that it depends 
 upon the truth and internal evidence, 
 or the novelty of the Doctrines, be- 
 
 caufe
 
 I ioi ] 
 
 caufe we are too near the fentence 
 
 \vhere you declare the contrary. 
 
 You really fay it, however, in the 
 fame breath, but in other words ; 
 and in one fingle fentence you make 
 the Doctrines dependent and independent 
 
 on the authority of the publilhers. 
 
 Let us quote the whole pafTage, that 
 the candid reader may judge whether 
 or no I have mifunderftood you : 
 " Whether thefe wonderful Doctrines 
 tc are worthy of our belief* mufl dc- 
 " pend on the opinion, which we en* 
 " tertain of the authority of thofe who 
 " publilhed them to the world ; but 
 " certain it is, that they are all fo far 
 " removed from every trad of the hu- 
 
 * The words worthy of belief, and true, are 
 equivalent, when applied to the Do&rines of 
 the Gofpel, to their divine authority and origin. 
 
 H 3 " man
 
 [ 102 ] 
 
 ' man imagination, that it feems 
 " equally impojfibhy tbat they fhould 
 * c ever have been derived from the 
 " knowledge or artifice of man." 
 This is faying and unfaying, in a breath, 
 For, if the divine origin, or (which is 
 the fame thing) the credibility of thefe 
 Doctrines, depends on the opinion we 
 have of the authority of their publifti- 
 ers, then their perfeft novelty is of lit-* 
 tie or no confequence to their credibi- 
 lity ; but, if their ferfeft novelty * 
 Ihews that thefe Doctrines could not 
 be derived from the knowledge or arti- 
 fice of men, then this novelty proves 
 their divine origin, and, confequently, 
 their credibility does not depend on 
 the authority of their publifhers. 
 
 * Which is exprefled ftrongly by their being 
 removed from every trad of the human imagina- 
 tion. 
 
 Thus,
 
 [ loj 3 
 
 Thus, Sir, I have done with your 
 fecond Proportion. All that I have 
 faid, relating to it, is rather defigned 
 to reftify, than to refute it. For, 
 though I am perfuaded that the efTen- 
 tial Do&rines of the Gofpel, confider- 
 cd in themfelves, are not either by 
 their novelty or nature fufficient to 
 prove their Divine Origin and Infpi- 
 ration, yet, when I confider the beau- 
 tiful firriplicity with which they are 
 delivered, and the amazing fuccefs 
 with which they were propagated, 
 and when I compare thefe two cir- 
 cumftances with the characler, abili- 
 lities, and means of the perfons that 
 publifhed them to the World, I fee 
 then, indeed, ftrong prefumptions in 
 favour of their truth, that is, of their 
 Divine Origin and Authority. I go 
 H 4 ftill
 
 [ '04 ] 
 
 fall farther, and pray God to forgive 
 the ignorance or difingenuity of 
 thofe, who pretend to believe firmly, 
 that twelve obfcure, illiterate men, 
 twelve defpifed Galileans, witbout 
 rank or power, intereft or dexterity, 
 opulence or authority, learning or elo- 
 quence, oppofed and vanquiftied the 
 prejudices of the World, triumphed 
 over the power of cuftom, education, 
 and intereft, expofed themfelves to 
 death in the mod dreadful forms, in 
 the fervice of an Impoftor, who had 
 deceived them, and in whofe caufe 
 they had nothing to expect in this 
 World but Martyrdom, and in the 
 next but condemnation for maintain- 
 ing a lye. 
 
 After having treated, in your man- 
 ner, the Do&rines of Christianity, you 
 
 proceed
 
 proceed to fome obfcrvations on the 
 perfonal Character of its Author. You 
 alledge that this Character is new and 
 extraordinary, and fo indeed it is. You 
 wave, however, the proofs of this, 
 deducible from the fupernatural Birth, 
 the forty days Faft, the various Mira- 
 cles, the Death and Refurredion of 
 the Divine Saviour, which are the 
 chief circumftances, that conftitutethe 
 New and the Extraordinary in his 
 Character. Your reafon for not em- 
 ploying thefe proofs, which are fo 
 much, nay perhaps chiefly to the pur- 
 pofe, is, " becaufe thefe circumftan- 
 " ces will (fay you) have but little ef- 
 " fe<5b upon the minds of unbelievers, 
 '* who, if they believe not the Religion* 
 " will give no credit to the relation 
 " of thefe facts," You think, then, 
 
 that,
 
 [ io6 ] 
 
 that, at this time of day, it is poflible 
 to believe this Religion (i. e. to be- 
 lieve its Divine Authority and Origin :) 
 previoufly to the belief of Chrift's 
 Miracles and Refurrection, tho' it was 
 to thefe Miracles and this Refurrec- 
 tion that Chrift himfelf appealed for 
 the truth of his Religion, or (which 
 is the fame thing) the Divinity of his 
 Million. This is fingular enough : 
 but what is ftill much more fo, is, to 
 fee you attempting to prove to thefe 
 people, who reject the Miracles and 
 Refurrection of Chrift, that his Cha- 
 racter was new and extraordinary. For, 
 when you have proved this to Deifts, 
 what then ? Will this lead them to 
 believe the Truth and Divinity of the 
 Religion, when, rejecting the Mira- 
 cles and Refurre&ion of its Author, 
 
 thei*
 
 they can only confider him as an En* 
 thufiaft or an Impoftor ? But perhaps 
 you imagine, that, when you have 
 proved the Character of Chrift to be 
 new and extraordinary, this will en- 
 gage them to believe his Miracles. 
 This, Sir, would be really trifling 
 with the principles of evidence, in a 
 flrange manner. You cannot think 
 that the idea of Chrift's Character, as 
 new and extraordinary, is more adap- 
 ted to prove the truth of his Refur- 
 rection, than the ocular teftimony of 
 five hundred WitneiTes tranfmitted in 
 the Annals of Hiftory : you cannot 
 think that it is a ftronger proof of this 
 event than the conduct, zeal, and 
 intrepidity of the Apoftles (who would 
 not have facrificed all the blefiings of 
 this life and the hopes of another, in 
 
 order
 
 t 8 1 
 
 order to fupport the caufe of a dead 
 Impoftor who had cruelly deceived 
 them) or than the amazing power and 
 fuccefs that attended the Miniftry of 
 thefe Apoftles with all the oppofition 
 and malignity of the World fet in 
 array againft them. 
 
 But after all when you come to 
 prove that the Character of Chrift is 
 new and extraordinary, you make ufe, 
 for this purpofe, of a mofl excep- 
 tionable argument. You prove it by 
 affirming that he is the Founder of a 
 Religion which is totally unconnected 
 with all human Policy and Govern- 
 ment, and, therefore, totally uncon- 
 ducive to any worldly purpofe what- 
 ever. If you had been able to prove 
 this pernicious Paradox, Ten would 
 ahfioji have perfuadtd me to be a ~Deift. 
 
 But
 
 [ I0 9 I 
 
 But here, as in fome other places, you 
 forget what you defigned to prove, and 
 entertain us with many good things, 
 which we don't deny, but which have 
 no relation to what you affirmed and 
 were to prove. This Paradox, how- 
 ever, deferves a particular confidera- 
 tion, and therefore I mall make it the 
 fubjecl of a following Letter. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 S I R, 
 
 IT has always been to me a moft 
 pleafing object of contemplation, 
 and not only fo, but a ftrong confir- 
 mation of my religious faith, to 
 obferve the beautiful connexion and 
 harmony that reigns in the ways of 
 God to man, and even in the different 
 Hates, through which human nature 
 pafles to moral improvement and feli- 
 city. I have always confidered the 
 flate of nature, as improved by, and 
 confequently in harmony with, the 
 flate of civil fociety ; and I have al- 
 ways been accuftomed to confider the 
 latter as deriving its principal fecurity, 
 
 its
 
 [ 3 
 
 jts moft amiable embellifhments, and 
 its fweeteft comforts, from the doc- 
 trines and precepts of the chriftian 
 religion. I have always thought 
 that the good chriftian muft be a 
 good citizen, and that, therefore the 
 gofpel promotes directly the original 
 purpofes of civil polity, and encreafes 
 the influence of laws and government 
 upon even the prefent felicity of man. 
 Nay ftill more : as I am perfuaded, 
 that the e/ential principles and felicity 
 of human nature muft be the fame in 
 all its ftates, and only differ in the de- 
 grees of their perfection, I have al- 
 ways considered the practice of the 
 civil and focial virtues, in the commu- 
 nity of which we are members here, 
 as an eflential preparation for that 
 more perfect community of which we 
 
 hope
 
 [ i" 3 
 
 hope to be members hereafter. For 
 certainly, Sir, there muft be an inti- 
 mate connexion between our prefent 
 and our future ftate of being, unlefs 
 you fuppofe fuch chafms and abrupt 
 tranfitions in the fcale of exiftence, 
 and in the progreffive courfe of God's 
 moral government, as are totally un- 
 like any thing we have yet perceived 
 in the works of nature, providence, or 
 grace. Rational and moral intelli- 
 gences, who have lived here below in 
 focial connexions, cannot, in any fu- 
 ture period, be formed into a fociety, 
 whofe eflential principles are totally 
 new, and either contrary to, or differ- 
 ent from, the eflential principles of 
 human fociety here below. In a fu- 
 ture period, indeed, accidental cir- 
 cumftances may be- changed, new 
 
 fources 

 
 C "3 ] 
 
 fources of enjoyment may be opened, 
 certain relations, which take place here 
 belowj and which are not effential to 
 the nature, but are only appropriated 
 to the imperfect ftate of moral fociety, 
 may be abolilhed and fucceeded by 
 others more noble and more perfect j 
 but the efiential principles that confti- 
 tute here the happinefs of human foci* 
 cty (hall remain for even From all 
 this I conclude, that the truths and 
 precepts of chriftianity, though they 
 have their great and ultimate end in a 
 future ftate, are neverthelefs adapted^ 
 and, indeed, defigned to produce the 
 happieft effects upon the conduct of 
 men in their prefent civil and focial 
 relations. This truth, however, does 
 not reft only upon the general princi- 
 ples now mentioned : it is fufceptible 
 I of
 
 C "4 J 
 
 of demonftration : you feem to ac- 
 knowledge it in feveral places, and 
 yet it totally overturns your bold af- 
 fertion, * that Jefus Chrift founded a 
 religion, " which is totally unccon- 
 " netted with all human policy and 
 ct government, and therefore totally 
 ** unconducive to cw$ worldly purpofe 
 whatever.". 
 
 The citizen .of Geneva f, who r 
 with an unaccountable fpirit of para- 
 dox and inconfiflency, has lavifhed on 
 chriftianity the mod pompous enco* 
 miums, and attacked it in the moft in- 
 decent terms of reproach, preceded 
 you, Sir, in this very ftrange repre- 
 fentation of the gofpel. How fuch a 
 
 * P. 33- 
 
 f J. J. Roufleau. 
 
 reprefen'i-
 
 [ "5 1 
 
 jfepreferitation could come into the 
 head of a man of your penetration and 
 difcernhnent is above my comprehen- 
 fion. There are fome miftakes, Sir, 
 fo palpable, that one is almofl amamed 
 to correct them. It is irkfome to be 
 tinder the necefiity of demanding at- 
 tention to the plained truths, to the 
 moft palpable and ftriking connexions' 
 of things ; to beg that you would 
 recollect the ends and pUrpofes of go- 
 vernment, and the happy fruits that 
 might be expected from civil aflbcia- 
 tions, feconded by the influence of re- 
 ligion and morals. 
 
 If you meant by the paradox I here 
 combat, that the religion of Jefus is 
 hot connected with any external forms 
 fof government, that it does not fa- 
 vour the conftitution of a monarchy 
 I 2 more
 
 ( M J 
 
 more than that of a republick,- thaff 
 it has no relation to many of the Tub- 
 altern fprings of the political machine, 
 no-body would have contefted your af- 
 fertionj though fome might alk how 
 it came to obtain a place in your 
 book? Or, had you> meant by the 
 paflage under confideration, that the 
 chriftian religion makes little account 
 of extenfive dominion, overgrown 
 opulence,' commercial fchemes, and 
 perpetual efforts towards new acquifi- 
 tions, we fhould have left- the propo- 
 fition unnoticed,, as har-mlefs, becaufe 
 it is not in thefe circumftances, but in> 
 Others, that mail be mentioned in their 
 place,, that we muft feek for the chief 
 reafons and purpofes of civil aflbcia- 
 tions. The chriftian religion has no 
 connexion with the abufes which^ 
 3. through
 
 [ "7 ] 
 
 (through the pafiions of men, have de- 
 feated the true purpofes of civil go- 
 vernment, or have fubftituted fdlfe 
 ones in their place : but does this 
 prove that it is totally unconnected with 
 all human government, and uncon- 
 ducive to any worldly purpofe what- 
 foever ? I thought, indeed, that 1 had 
 iriiftaken your meaning for a while 
 and I was led to this thought, by per- 
 ceiving that there was no fort of con- 
 nexion between what you affirmed 
 .and the arguments ufed to fupport it. 
 I faid to myfelf, Mr. Jenyns, by the 
 bold words above quoted, means only, 
 that Jefus did not purpofe, like Nu- 
 aiia, Mahomet, or Mofes *, to afpire 
 I 3 to 
 
 * If it is a proof of the divinity of the chrif- 
 tiaa religion, that it ftands unconnected with 
 
 all
 
 [ "8 ] 
 
 to the rank of a civil legiflator or fo- 
 vereign, and alfo that the chriftian re- 
 ligion contains precepts more refined 
 and noble, both relating to religion 
 and morality, than are to be found in 
 any human fyflems of legiflation : and 
 this, indeed, Sir, is all that you prove, 
 or attempt to prove, in the fifteen, 
 pages that follow the afTertion now 
 under confideration. This is alfo un- 
 doubtedly true ; but as there is a great 
 difference between thefe two propofi- 
 tions, cbrifttanity is fuperior to all the 
 fyjlems of human legijlation, and chrif- 
 tianity is unconnected with all human 
 government, and totally unconducive to 
 any worldly purpofes whatever, I was 
 
 all human and civil government, the monaflick 
 eftablilhments biJ pretty fair for a celeftial 
 origin ! 
 
 tempted, 

 
 C "9 ] 
 
 tempted, in order to give your reat 
 foning fome appearance of confiftency, 
 to explain the latter by the former, in 
 order to render it admifiible. But, 
 when I proceeded farther, and heard 
 you avow to an objector *, " that 
 " God built the world upon one plan, 
 " and a religion for it on another 
 '< that he .had revealed a religion, 
 '* which not only contradifts theprirv- 
 *< cipal paffions and inclinations that 
 *' he has implanted in our nature, but 
 " is incompatible with the whole (economy 
 " of that world in which he has 
 *' thought proper to place us," I found 
 that I had not miftaken your meaning, 
 .and alfo, that your meaning is perni*- 
 cious to the caufe of Chriftianity ia 
 the very higheft degree. 
 
 * P. 133136. 4th Edition. 
 
 I 4 At
 
 [ 120 ] 
 
 At firft fight, this reprefentation, 
 which fets nature and grace, provi- 
 dence and revelation at variance, and 
 exhibits the plan of the divine govern- 
 ment under the afpect of a houfe di- 
 vided againft itfelf, has a moft unphi- 
 lofophical and forbidding appearance ; 
 but, when we come to examine it in 
 detail, it is glaringly falfe in all its 
 parts. 
 
 To prove this I mall mew, firjl, 
 that the true ends of civil govern- 
 ment are bed promoted, nay can only 
 be accomplifhed by the fpirit and in- 
 fluence of the chriftian religion 5 and, 
 fecondly, that this religion neither 
 contradifts the natural paflions and in- 
 clinations that God has implanted in 
 us, nor prohibits the purfuit and en- 
 joyment of the comforts and advan- 
 tages
 
 tages of human life. When thefe two 
 points are proved, it will, I think, 
 be evident, that the gofpel is neither 
 unconducive to every worldly purpofe, 
 nor incompatible with the whole ceco- 
 nomy of a prefent ftate. 
 
 Here, indeed, you oblige more or 
 Jefs to preach ; I hope, however, that 
 you will not difdain to hear. 
 
 Civil fociety was formed as a pre- 
 fervative againft diforder and injuftice, 
 and thus was defigned to augment the 
 comforts and happinefs of human life. 
 As natural fociety was the confequence 
 of a gregarious principle or inftirwft in 
 the human mind, civil government was 
 the refult of reflexion on the means 
 of rendering natural fociety agreeable 
 and happy. It is, however, certain, 
 that the external laws and inftitutions 
 
 of
 
 . 1 
 
 yof civil fociety were, and ftill are, in- 
 fufficient for promoting its complete 
 felicity, nay even fuch a degree of fe- 
 licity as actually takes place in it. 
 On the one hand, its eftabli&ment 
 multiplied the duties of men, by mul- 
 tiplying their relations ; on the other, 
 by encreafing the wants of mankind, 
 in proportion as the ufeful and elegant 
 arts (truck out new fources of enjoy- 
 ment, it encreafed and inflamed thole 
 very appetites and paffions, for the 
 correction and reflraint of which it 
 was formed. In this ftate of things^ 
 fociety ftands in need of the fuccour 
 and influence of many virtues, for 
 which its civil laws and inflitutions 
 make little or no provifion ; fuch as 
 piety, fidelity, equity, candour, gra- 
 titude, temperance, and benevolence. 
 
 Civil
 
 { "3 ] 
 
 Civil laws, I fay, make no provifion 
 for thofe virtues -, nay, they extend 
 their protection (which is their only 
 remunerating fan&ion) to the hypo- 
 crite, the ungrateful, the intemperate, 
 the perfidious, and the avaricious, if 
 they only guard, prudently, againft 
 audacious and violent attempts upon 
 the lives and properties of their fellow- 
 citizens. There are alfo numberlefs 
 ways in which the paffions of men 
 may difturb the order, peace, and 
 happinefs of civil fociety, which the 
 precepts and fan&ions of human laws 
 can neither prevent nor remedy. An- 
 ger and revenge, envy and hatred, 
 avarice and intemperance, immorality 
 and licentioufnefs, may poifon the 
 fountains of publick felicity, without 
 any reitraint from the authority of ci- 
 vil
 
 { 114 ] 
 
 vil government. If you attend to 
 this, and confider the fpirit and genius 
 cf chriftianity, how can you fay, that 
 this doctrine is unconne&ed with the 
 nds of civil government, and is un- 
 conducive to any worldly purpofe ? 
 You feem to have forgot that chrifti- 
 anity confirms by pofitive precepts, 
 encourages by fublime promifes, and 
 enjoins under pain of the mod tre- 
 mendous evils, thofe virtues of piety, 
 candour, gratitude, temperance, and 
 benevolence, that ilrengt'hen all the 
 bonds of civil government, are the 
 efiential foundations of temporal prof- 
 perity, and promote all the true and 
 folid interefts of human fociety. The 
 duties of fubjedion to earthly gover- 
 nors are exprefsly enjoined by the 
 divine author of our religion : "his pre- 
 cepts
 
 ccpts have a direct tendency tarenofe* 
 inagiftrates refpectable and fubjefts 
 obedient, and to reftrain thofe paf- 
 fions that produce anguiflr and mifery 
 in private life, and defolation on the 
 publick theatre of the world. His 
 exhortations to humility are not defign- 
 ed to render men cityeR^ mean-fpirited* 
 and pufillanimous, but meek, modefty 
 vigilant, pacifick, and humane j and 
 are there not many valuable and im- 
 portant purpofes- anfwered by thefe 
 viruses,, even in the ceconomy of a 
 prefent world ? Don't you fee by this, 
 that the precepts of the gofpel are noc 
 defigned to difengage men from the 
 duties and occupations of civil life, or 
 from all concern in the affairs of the 
 world ? They indeed, engage chrifti- 
 ans to perform thefe duties,, and to 
 
 manage
 
 [ 6 J 
 
 manage thefe occupations and con- 
 cerns, like immortal beings, with a 
 view to futurity and to the ap- 
 probation of HIM, who has appointed 
 their ftations on this tranfitory fcene ; 
 and this, furely, is the moft effectual 
 way to perform thefe duties in the 
 nobleft and moft perfect manner. 
 Nay more, as I have already obferved 
 in the beginning of this letter, it is by 
 fulfilling, from pious and virtuous 
 inotives, the duties of magiftrates, 
 fubjeds, fathers, children, hufbands^ 
 wives, mafters, fervants, fellow-citi- 
 zens, friends, and fociable members* 
 of the great family of human jife, 
 that we are prepared for exercifing the 
 fame benevolence and virtue in other 
 forms,, and in more perfect relations, 
 3 in
 
 r "7 ] 
 
 in a future and more exalted fphere; 
 Hence the ceconomy of time looks 
 cowards eternity, and the profpect of 
 eternky influences our conduct in the 
 ceconomy of time, while the religion 
 of Jefus connects thefe ceconomies, 
 as correfpondent and contiguous links 
 in the immenfe fcale of being ; fo far 
 is it from being true, that God (as 
 you oddly exprefs it) has conftituted a 
 world upon one plan, and a religion for 
 it on another. This view of things 
 led one of the moft eminent geniufes 
 of the prefent age to exprefs himfelf 
 in the following terms, " How admi- 
 ** rable is the chriftian religion, which, 
 ** while its great object appears to be 
 " the attainment of future felicity* 
 ** has neverthelefs the greateft ten> 
 
 ** dency
 
 r ] 
 
 " dency to promote our happinefs iri 
 " a prefent world ! *" 
 
 I faid, Sir, in the fecond place, that 
 the chriftian religion neither contradifts 
 the natural paffions and inclinations 
 that God has implanted in us, nor 
 prohibits the purfuit and enjoyment of 
 the comforts and advantages of hu- 
 man life. And it is, indeed, fmgular 
 enough, that I mould be obliged to 
 prove this to you, in the fame manner 
 as if I were writing to a Carthufian 
 monk or a folitary hermit. In treat- 
 ing this part of your fubject, you go 
 upon the principle above-mentioned, 
 even that " God conftituted a world 
 ' upon one plan r , and a religion for it 
 *' on another" a ftrange principle^ 
 
 * This eminent genius was Montefquiea. 
 
 indeed I
 
 t 1*9 ] 
 
 indeed ! this, at firft fight, feems to 
 be a method of proceeding that fa- 
 vours of inconfiftency, if by the world 
 you underftand not only the material 
 fyftem of nature, but the moral and 
 rational creatures that belong to it. 
 At leaft, the principle requires illuftra- 
 tion, and I cannot fay, that your 
 manner of explaining it removes its 
 difficulties. The matter is nice and 
 delicate, and deferves a particular dif- 
 cufllon. 
 
 To explain the principle or propo- 
 fition, you tell us, that " the religion 
 " of Jefus not only contradicts the 
 " principal paffions and inclinations 
 " which God has implanted in our na- 
 <l tures, but is incompatible with the 
 ^' whole economy of the world, in which 
 K "he
 
 I 130 I 
 
 ^he had placed us*." It is true,, 
 this phrafe, and the flrange principles 
 k is defigned to explain, are put in the 
 mouth of an objector. But this ob- 
 jector is your fecond y inftead of being 
 your adverfary. You adopt both his 
 principle and his manner of explaining 
 it, and declare that they cxprefs the 
 true fpirit of ch-riftianity. You even 
 re-inforce the hypothefis of the objec- 
 tor by phrafes of the very harfheft 
 kind. Allow me to examine what he 
 and you fay on this head. 
 
 To prove that chriftianity contra- 
 dicts our natural pafllons, and is in- 
 compatible with the whole ceconomy 
 of a prefent world, your objector and 
 you alledge in the firft place, " that 
 
 * P. 133. 
 i the
 
 tc the love cf power, riches, honour* 
 " and fame^ which 'are the great in- 
 " citements to generous and magna- 
 <c nimous actions, are by this (i. e. 1 
 " chriftian) inftitution all depreciated 
 *' and difcouraged." ;Now, Sir, I 
 really don't find the mere love or de- 
 fire of the objects above-mentioned 
 either depreciated or recommended in 
 fcripture j and, indeed, thefe defires 
 are of fuch a nature, that they neither 
 deferve efteem nor contempt ; they 
 are, in their proper meafure and degree* 
 the innocent propenfities of nature to- 
 wards thole comforts of life, which 
 God and Chrift, by the mouth of an 
 apoftle, have permitted mankind richly 
 to enjoy *. If, indeed, by the love of 
 
 * i Tim. vi. 17. 
 
 K 2 power,
 
 1 3* ] 
 
 power, you mean exceffive ambition $ 
 aftd, by the love of riches, fordid 1 ava- 
 rice, or even an immoderate attach- 
 ment to opulence ; and, by the defire 
 of honour and fame, you underftand 
 vain-glory -, then I acknowledge, thac 
 thefe defires are depreciated and dif- 
 couraged by the facred writers. But 
 why ? Not on account of their ojeflf 9 
 but on account of their degree , not as 
 natural paftlons, but as natural pajfions 
 become ex offline t and fwelled beyond 
 their fubordination to nobler princi- 
 ples and finer affections. And truly, 
 Sir, I never heard any body, before 
 yourfclf, ftyle generous and magnani- 
 mous the actions that proceed from the 
 excefllve love of power, riches, 2nd 
 honour alone : I have always been ac- 
 cuftomed to hear thefe epithets given 
 
 to
 
 [ 133 ] 
 
 to 6eeds that carry in their motives a 
 mixture, at lead, of benevolence, 
 difmtereftednefs and publick fpirit. 
 And farther, by oppofing the excefs of 
 thefe natural and innocent defires, 
 chriftianity does not act in contradic- 
 tion with the (economy of the world, or 
 .the prefent plan of providence ; it only 
 oppofes the abufes of men, which I 
 hope you will not be fo inconfiderate 
 as to confound with that ceconomy. 
 If there be any pafiages of fcripture., 
 where the love of power, riches, or 
 fame are difcon raged, without an eye 
 to the degree or excefs of the defire, 
 it is only in the "particular cafe of the 
 firft heralds of the gofpel, vvhofe fin- 
 gular fituation required an inattention 
 to the external comforts and advan- 
 tages of life. But this inattention 
 
 K Wji3
 
 [ J3+ 3 
 
 was never defigned as a rule to chrif- 
 tians in fucceeding times, who are not 
 called to perpetual fcenes of fuffering 
 and martyrdom, nor obliged to facri- 
 fice every worldly profpect to the 
 eftablimment of the gofpel i for the 
 gofpel is firmly eftablifhed, and nei- 
 ther the mockeries of indecent wit, 
 nor the frenzy of infidelity and vice> 
 lhall ever prevail againft it. Is it pof- 
 fible, Sir, that you can really think, 
 that the maxims and precepts of the 
 gofpel were defigned to prevent our 
 enjoying the benignity of providence 
 here below, or to reftrain us from de- 
 firing and relifning the pleafures which 
 the fupreme benefactor has connected 
 with the wife and moderate ufe of his 
 gifts ? Confidering this world as a ftate 
 of paffage (and, indeed, it is an inex- 
 plicable
 
 I '35 1 
 
 rplicable fcene in any other point, of 
 view) is it not agreeable to every pre- 
 cept of fcripture and every dictate of 
 common fenfe, that we fhould render 
 that paflage as comfortable as may be, 
 without amufing ourfelves fo inconfi- 
 derately on the road, as to lofe fight 
 of our true country, or neglecting to 
 acquire and maintain a tafte and frame 
 of mind fuitable to the nobler plea- 
 lures it exhibits to our hopes ? Ought 
 a child to renounce the innocent fvveets 
 of infancy, or a youth to reject the 
 harmlefs pleafures of life's early prims, 
 becaufe he is foon to pafs to more 
 grave and folid occupations and enjoy- 
 ments of a maturer period ? This 
 Vv'ould be prepofterous. The gofpel, 
 therefore, in pointing out, as its prin- 
 cipal and great object, a life to comer, 
 K 4 did
 
 [ '36 ] 
 
 did not mean to annihilate (as you 
 ilrangely infmuate by your unguarded 
 exprefilons) either the relations or en- 
 joyments of this prefent life ; but only 
 to modify our conduct in the one and 
 our attachment to the other in fuch a 
 manner as to render them compatible 
 with, nay, preparatory to our future 
 felicity. The views and precepts of 
 chriftianity were defigned to fet bounds 
 to thofe appetites, whofe exceffive in- 
 dulgence degrades reafon, extinguifhes 
 piety, troubles the order of fociety, 
 and ends in the ruin of human nature; 
 they were defigned to moderate that 
 ambition, which, when left to itfelf, 
 engenders perfidy, cruelty, and injuf- 
 tice, and is a fource of innumerable 
 evils both in private and publick life. 
 In a word, they were defigned to make 
 
 us
 
 
 [ 137 1 
 
 us ufe ditgood things of this life, with- 
 out confidering them as our fupreme 
 felicity, but to efteem them in fubor- 
 dination to the nobler and more fub- 
 ftantial fources of happinefs, which 
 we expect in a future and more perfect 
 ftate. Thus the doctrine! of grace, 
 inftead of engaging us to reject with a 
 morofe and cynical aufterity the gifts 
 of providence, teaches us to enjoy and 
 to appreciate them with wifdom, and 
 thus, inftead of oppofing the cecono- 
 my and purfuits of a prefent world, 
 have a happy and falutary influence 
 on our condition in it. 
 
 You fee, Sir, that I am not afhamcd 
 to profefs myf If one of thofe whom 
 you call, with a fneer*, the good ma- 
 
 * P. 135- 
 
 nagers
 
 [ 3' 3 
 
 nagers, who chufe to take a little of 
 this world in their way to heaven. 
 This, I am, from principle -, for in 
 faft I have little of the world to take-, 
 I am neither a lord of the board of 
 trade, nor a member of parliament, 
 nor a man of fortune ; and therefore, 
 when I fay, that it is lawful for the 
 chriftian to be concerned in the affairs 
 of the world, and to enjoy its advan- 
 tages, I fpeak difmtereftedfy ; nay, I 
 defend your practice againft your prin- 
 ciples. And it is the eafieft talk I. ever 
 undertook. The only difficulty that 
 perplexes me here is, how to do this 
 confidently with civility. It would be 
 harfh to lay, that you don't under- 
 ftand the fenfe of the fcripture-texts 
 you have employed to maintain your 
 opinion, and yet it would be much 
 
 more
 
 [ '39- 1 
 
 more fo to affirm that you do. With- 
 out determining, which of the two is 
 really the cafe, permit me to tell' you, 
 what every curate tells his parifoionera 
 often in a year, that the term world 
 is frequently ufed in fcripture for the 
 corrupt maxim* and the vicious cuftoms. 
 of the world, and as often for the/><?r- 
 fons, whofe conduct in life is directed 
 by thefe cuftoms and thefe maxims-, 
 and alfo for the licentious abufe of, 
 or exceffive attachment to, the good 
 things of a prefent life. In one or 
 other of thefe fenfes is the word taken, 
 in all the paffages you have alledged, 
 to prove that chriftianity is in direct 
 oppofirion to the ceconomy of a pre- 
 fent world. Now from thefe paflTages 
 I conclude quite the contrary ; even 
 that chriftianity has the moft friendly 
 
 afpect
 
 [ I 4 o ] 
 
 afpeh upon the true interefts of a pre- 
 fent wcTrtd, by its tendency to abolifti 
 thofe corrupt maxims and vicious 
 euftoms, that are the moft fatal ene- 
 mies to our temporal, as well as to 
 our eternal felicity. And where the 
 love of the 'world and the things of the 
 world is prohibited in the facred write- 
 ings (if the precept does not relate to 
 the peculiar -cafe of the firft teachers 
 of chriftianity) the word love is un- 
 doubtedly ufed to denote an undue and 
 jxc.ejji'ue attachment to the riches, 
 pleafures, and honours of the world, 
 | will even furnim you with two texts 
 .much more to your purpofe (not in 
 reality but in appearance ) than any 
 you have quoted. The firft is that 
 pafiage of the gofpel, in which Jefus 
 Cluift declares that, in order to be his 
 
 difcipk,
 
 [ I4i J 
 
 difciple, a man muft hate his father atxt 
 mother, and wife and children^ and bre- 
 thren and Jiflers^ yea y and his own life 
 alfo *. In the view of fuch a com- 
 mentator as you, Sir, here is a text 
 that annihilates, in a moment, all the 
 mod intimate and tender relations of 
 a prefent world. What do Ifay ? 
 It does more than annihilate them. 
 Nature and reafon point out love .and 
 benevolence as the refult of thefe re- 
 lations ; but, if you quoted this text 
 as you have quoted the others, you 
 would reprefent chriflianity as con- 
 necting with thefe relations malignity 
 
 and hatred. When St. John faid, 
 
 f Love not the world, nor the things of 
 the world : if any man love the world., 
 
 * Luke xiv. 26. 
 
 f iftEp. it. !. 
 
 the
 
 [ 142 ] 
 
 the love of the Father is not in him ; he 
 faid fomething very emphatick. It is 
 fimilar to the vow you made by your 
 godfathers at your baptifm, to renounce 
 the world, the devil, and the flejh. 
 You don't, however, fuppofe, that a 
 man is obliged, by this vow, to live 
 in the world, as if he were out of it, 
 to refufe a commifiton of the peace, 
 a feat in parliament, a penfion, or a 
 peerage, to throw his guides into the 
 fire, or to break his flatutes, like an 
 iconoclaft j to fhut his heart to the 
 tender connexions of love, and to the 
 amiable charities of human nature. It 
 was not certainly this monaflick frenzy 
 that St. John had in view ; nor did he 
 mean that we mould exringuifh every 
 elegant tafte, and every natural paf- 
 fion, when he faid, Loi'e. no! the world*
 
 [ J 
 
 .nor tie things of the world. He tells 
 us himfelf, in the very next verfe, his 
 true meaning, and leaves no doubt 
 remaining about the ideas he defigned 
 to exprefs by the term world, when 
 he calls it the luft of the feJJj, the lujt 
 of the eye, and the pride of life, i. e. 
 luxury and lafcivioufnefs the avari- 
 cious purfuit of opulence and the in- 
 dulgence of vanity and ambition. 
 But, according to you, thefe declara- 
 tions of fcripture muft ever forbid 
 ANY reconciliation between the purfuit s 
 of this world and the chrijiian inftitit- 
 tion *. I was going to tell you, Sir, 
 that fuch a fpirit of criticifm, applied 
 to fuch a book as the New Teftament, 
 would draw the mod palpable abfur- 
 
 * P. 141. 
 
 dicies
 
 [ H4 ] 
 
 dities from the pureft exprefllons of 
 celeftial wifdom. Bur, when I was 
 coming down upon you with this for- 
 midable remonftrance, I perceived, 
 that, in the very next page, you had 
 changed entirely the ftate of the quef- 
 tion by exprefllons quite different from 
 the former. Thefe different expref- 
 fions, 1 prefume, are defigned to con- 
 vey different ideas. In juftifying there 
 the incompatibility of the gofpel with 
 the -purfuits of the world, you put, be- 
 fore the word purfuits, the epithet 
 vain, which indeed, ends our difpute; 
 though I muft tell you that this recon- 
 ciliation is made at the expence of all 
 your preceding reafoning on this pare 
 of your fubject. Who doubts, Sir, 
 of chriftlanky's being adverfe to the 
 VAIN furfuits of this world ? Who 
 
 doubts
 
 f '45 ] 
 
 doubts of its being conformable, in 
 this refpeft, as well as in all others, 
 xvith, reaibn, wifdom, and experience, 
 which, indeed, teach us (as you juftly 
 obferve) " that thefe vain purfuits are 
 " begun on falfe hopes, carried on 
 " with difquietude, and end in difap- 
 " pointment ?*' No chriftian, furely, 
 will deny that the profeffed incompa- 
 tibility of (Thrift's religion with the 
 little wretched and iniquitous bufmefs of 
 the world is far from being a defect 
 in this religion ; though I think you 
 rather hafty in advancing *, " that, 
 '* were there no other proof of its di- 
 ** vine origin, this alone would be 
 " abundantly fufficient t." But why, 
 L wortiiy 
 
 P. 142. * 
 
 t It is not enough to prove the divine origin 
 of any do&rines or precepts, that they be in- 
 compatible
 
 E 14* I 
 
 worthy Sir, did you not inform cs 
 before -hand, that by thefe expreffions, 
 the plan on which God conftilitted the 
 world ; the whole ceconomy of a prefent 
 world ; the purfuits and advantages of 
 the world ; you meant only the vain 
 purfuits and the little, wretched,, ini- 
 quitous bufmefs of the world ? You 
 may perhaps reply by afking me, why 
 I had not the patience to wait until you 
 had explained yourfelf ? I was not fo 
 impatient as you may think. I read 
 your book twice with the clofeft at- 
 tention, before I fat down to write 
 thefe letters ; and I was at much pains 
 to combine the jarring variety of your 
 
 compatible with the little t wretched, iniquitous 
 tufinefs, or vain purfuiis of the world ; for, at 
 this rate, ihe morals of Seneca would lay an 
 undoubted claim to divine infpiration. 
 
 expref-
 
 t 47 ] 
 
 txprefiions in fuch a manner as to 
 draw from them a confident feries of 
 thought and reafoning , but I cannot 
 fay, that I fucceeded j and I really, 
 to this moment, am not fure of what 
 you mean by the acvnorr.y and flan of 
 bprefent world. For, if I mould take 
 thefe words (in the fenfe you feem to 
 attribute to them, p. 141) to mean 
 the vain purfuits and the iniquitous bu- 
 /inefs of the world, I get into another 
 difficulty, and don't fee how chriftia- 
 nity, by contradicting tbefe^ contradicts 
 the -principal paffwm and inclinations 
 Cod has implanted in our nature *, pro- 
 vided thefe paffions and inclinations be 
 well regulated, and exercifed upon 
 their proper objects with due propor- 
 
 * P. 133- 
 L 2 don,
 
 C I4 1 
 
 tion. There is no pafilon or inclina- 
 tion in man, which, when regulated 
 by reafon and chriftianity, may not 
 tend both to private and publick good, 
 even in the ceconomy of a prefent 
 world. I do not believe, indeed, 
 that, in a prefent ftate, the higheft de- 
 grees of this private or publick feli- 
 city will, or, morally fpeaking, can 
 take place ; but I ftill maintain that 
 the higheft degrees of harmony and 
 felicity, both private and publick, 
 that can take place here below, are at- 
 tainable only by the practical influence 
 of the precepts and doctrines of the 
 chriftian religion, and that chriftianity 
 is, therefore, fo far from being incom- 
 patible with, that it is friendly to the 
 true ceconomy of a prefent world, i c. 
 to the moft comfortable ftate of which 
 
 it
 
 [ '49 ] 
 
 it is fufceptible. For, by the (economy 
 of a prefent world, I underftand the af- 
 ibciadon of free, rational, and fociable 
 beings, fufceptible of pleafure and 
 pain, in a material world, for the ends 
 of concord and mutual good offices, 
 and for the enjoyment of as much fa- 
 tisfaclion as is attainable in a ftate of 
 paffage. Here then you feemed to be 
 enclofed : but you will get out again 
 by telling us that, by the love cf pcwer 9 
 riches, and honour, you mean an ex- 
 ctjjfce love ; and that, by the ceconomy 
 of the prefent world, you mean the 
 perverfion of the ends and purpofesof 
 human aflbciations ; but then your 
 propofition that chrijlianity is uncon- 
 ducive to any worldly purpofes is 
 proved falfe, and it appears only in* 
 compatible with the abufes of men, 
 L 3 which
 
 [ '50 } 
 
 which is not a very wonderful dif- 
 covery. 
 
 You give us, indeed *, feveral hints 
 of your taking the (economy of the 
 world in this fenfe, and efpecially when 
 you tell us that government, which is 
 efTential to the nature of man -f, can- 
 not be managed without certain degree* 
 
 Of VIOLENCE, CORRUPTION, and IM- 
 POSITION j yet (fay you) all thefe are 
 ftriRly forbidden. If you had told us 
 what kinds of violence and impofition 
 are prohibited in the gofpel, we mould 
 perhaps find that they are not (any; 
 
 * P. 134- 
 
 f- I did not know before that civil govern- 
 ment (for that is manifeftly here meant) was eC- 
 fential to the nature of man, though it is avow- 
 edly adapted to promote his fecurity and com- 
 fort. 
 
 more
 
 t i5 1 
 
 more than corruption) efientially nece'F- 
 fary to the management and admini- 
 ftration of civil government. Vio- 
 lence, in retraining injuftice and pu- 
 niming tranfgreiTors, is, indeed, necef- 
 ary^ but it is not forbidden : unjuft 
 and defpotick violence is forbidden^ 
 but it is not neceffary. And I am 
 perfuaded that -corruption ( whether 
 you underftand by that word bribery 
 in particular, or a want of principle in 
 general) is fo little neceflary to move 
 the fprings of government, that reli- 
 gion and virtue would do the bufmeis 
 much better, if governors and go- 
 verned were aduated by its influence.; 
 and this is fufficient to refute all you 
 fay upon the fubje6t. 
 
 Again when you fay -that non-re- 
 
 fiftanceto evil, perpetual patience ^ and a 
 
 L 4 negkB
 
 -[ 'S* 3 
 
 negleft of all we eat, drink, and wear, 
 mufl fubject individuals to perpetual 
 infults, put an end to commerce, ma- 
 nufactures*, and induftry, you main- 
 tain a propofition which I fhall not 
 difpute : but when you affirm that 
 thefe are recommended and enjoined 
 in the gofpel, as obligatory upon all 
 chriftians in particular, and all nations 
 in general, and that, without any mo- 
 dification and reftriflion arifing from 
 a difference in times, perfons, places, 
 and circumftances, you affirm what 
 the gofpel no-where enjoins, and what 
 common fenfe (a refpeftable critick in 
 the clafs of interpreters) palpably difa- 
 vows. It was, indeed, one of the 
 leading rules of conduct prefcribed to 
 
 * P. '35-
 
 [ 153 3 
 
 the apoftles by their divine matter, that, 
 in the propagation of the gofpel, no kind 
 of external force or violence mould be 
 employed, becaufe it was beneath the 
 dignity of a divine revelation to de- 
 pend, for its Jirft reception, on any 
 efforts of human power. It was alfo 
 expedient that the heralds of this re- 
 ligion, which was to fow, in the ceco- 
 nomy of time, the feeds of that BENE- 
 VOLENCE, that fhall fhed its fruits 
 through the endlefs fcenes of eternity, 
 fhould give to the world extraordinary 
 examples of mildnefs, patience, and 
 benignity. The rules relative to this 
 conduct are expreffed in the injunc- 
 tions of our blefled Saviour, by the 
 phrafes of not refifting evil of turning 
 the left cheek, &c. of doing good to 
 thofe that bate us, and feveral others 
 
 of
 
 [ 154 ] 
 
 of a like kind. If from thefe phrafcs 
 you conclude, that the chriftian reli- 
 gion forbids the magiftrates to punifii 
 the crimes that threaten the deftruc- 
 tion of fociety, or an individual to re- 
 pel, even by violence, the afifaults of 
 an unjuft aggreflbr, who attempts to 
 involve him and his family in calamity 
 and ruin, you make the gofpel an af- 
 fylum to the profligate, and its author 
 an enemy to the order and happinefs 
 of human fociety. But you ought to 
 know, Sir, that punijhment may be ex- 
 ecuted without a fpirit cf vengeance ; 
 that injuries may be repelled without 
 malignity, that perfonal infults cf lit- 
 tle conference to private or publick 
 happinefs may and ought to be borne 
 with patience, and that an enemy, 
 even when he has forfeited our efteem, 
 
 may
 
 '[ '55 1 
 
 may have a claim to acts of humanity 
 and benevolence. 
 
 It is particularly to be obferved, 
 that, in the precepts which feem fa- 
 vourable to vcn-re/iftance, Chrift has 
 particularly in view what was prac- 
 tifed among the Jews under the law of 
 retaliation. Under the credit of this 
 law, many refented the fmalleft inju- 
 ries with a malicious and revengeful 
 fpirit, and claimed, with rigour and 
 violence, an indemnification from the 
 publick tribunals for trifling violations 
 of their pretenfions or rights : fo that 
 the difciples were warned by their be- 
 nevolent matter to avoid the unre- 
 lenting and vindictive fpirit of the 
 Jews, and to reftrain the inhuman and 
 tumultuous impulfe of malignant paf- 
 fions ; not to renounce a wife, decent, 
 I and
 
 and rational felf-defence, on the pro- 
 per occafions. 
 
 This is certainly all that is required 
 in thefe injunctions of nox-re/z/lance and 
 patience in their application to the ge- 
 nerality of chriftians j granting that 
 they were to be pra&ifed with a pecu- 
 liar degree of felf-denial by the firft 
 minifters of the gofpel. By any other 
 rule of interpretation, we will be 
 obliged to maintain, that the chriftian 
 mud at this day HATE bis father, mo- 
 tber^ JifterS) and brothers *, that the 
 bread of the laft fupper was Chrift's 
 real body -f, that the defign of Chrift 
 was not to fpread peace upon earth J, 
 but war and def elation. As to the 
 
 * Luke xlv. 26. 
 t Marth. xxvt. 26. 
 t Matth. x. 34.
 
 [ '57 1 
 
 mglett of all that we eat, drink, and 
 wear, it might, indeed, have been en- 
 joined almoft literally upon the frft 
 preachers of the chriftian faith, whofc 
 whole attention was to be employed 
 in diffufing the light of the gofpel, 
 amidft fuch fcenes of peril and fuffer- 
 ing as were incompatible with any 
 concern about the external comforts 
 or elegancies of life. And yet, even 
 with refpect to them, it may be al- 
 ledged, that thefe paflages are not to 
 be urged in all the extent of the letter, 
 and are only defigned to prevent an 
 undue anxiety about the external cir- 
 cumftances of their ftate and condi- 
 tion ; but the firft diflates of common 
 fenfe mew that this inftance of felf- 
 denial is not and cannot be required 
 from the very bell and mod eminent 
 
 chrifti-
 
 .{ '58 3 
 
 chriftians in our day, and many of 
 the exprefs declarations of fcripture, 
 fhew that no fuch obligation is im- 
 poied upon them. 
 
 I wonder, Sir, that, fmce you went 
 fo far out of the walk of true criticifm 
 as to avail yourfelf of certain forms of 
 expreffion, that are either proverbial 
 and figurative, and therefore not to 
 be underftood literally, or evidently 
 confined to particular perfons, and 
 therefore not univerfal in their appli- 
 cation, you did not alledge the folemn 
 declaration of Chrift before Pilate, 
 that bis kingdom was not of this world. 
 This founds as well for your cauie as 
 any other text; and yet it makes nothing 
 at all for your purpofe. That you 
 may not, however, be tempted, on 
 
 any
 
 [ 159 ] 
 
 any future occafion, to make ufe of it 
 to (hew that chriftianity is unconducive 
 to any worldly purpofe, I mall point ouc 
 here its true fignification in order to 
 fecure it on the fide of thofe who de- 
 fend chriftianity on more rational prin. 
 ciples, than thofe which your book 
 feems to contain. 
 
 When Chrift made that fublime de- 
 claration, my kingdom is not of this 
 world) it is palpably evident, that he 
 underftood by this the following thing* 
 that it did not derive its origin from 
 efforts of human policy, but from the 
 miraculous interpofition of God alone 
 that its great end and defign went far 
 beyond the ends and purpofes of civil 
 afifociations, and aimed at nothing 
 iefs thaa to deliver mortals from the 
 
 punifh-
 
 punifhment of fin, the tyranny of vice, 
 the power of death, and the fear of 
 judgment, and to prepare them, by 
 holinefs and virtue, for happinefs and 
 immortality that its laws inftead of 
 being confined to the outward actions 
 of men (like thofe of civil legiflators) 
 were addreficd to the inward principles 
 and affections of the heart that its 
 power different, both in its means and 
 effects, from the power of the world, 
 was rational, gentle, perfuafive, and 
 invifible, forming its conquefts by 
 that -word of truth that enlightens 
 the understanding, and that fpiric of 
 grace that improves the heart, and 
 that its rewards are fpiritual and ra- 
 tional, and its duration eternal. Such, 
 Sir, are the effential ideas contained 
 in the fublime declaration of the Son 
 
 of
 
 of God before the Roman governor* 
 But, becaufe the kingdom of Chrift is 
 infinitely fuperior to the kingdoms of 
 this world in its origin, end, Jaws, 
 power, rewards, and duration, does 
 it follow from thence, that it has no 
 connexion with the felicity of earthly 
 empires, and with the true interefts 
 of civil fociety here below ? Or that 
 even the true fubjects of this king* 
 dom ought to be alienated from all 
 concern in the interefls and affairs 
 of a prefent world ? No, Sir ; this 
 conclufion, as I have already mewn, 
 is unreafonable j it favours more of 
 myltical enthufiafm or monaftick au- 
 fterity, than of the benevolent, hu* 
 mane, and liberal fpirit of the chriftian 
 religion. 
 
 M LETTER
 
 162 ] 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 S I R, 
 
 IN my former letter, I confidered 
 largely your fecond propofition, 
 and fiiewed the infufficiency of the ar- 
 guments by which you fupport it, as 
 well as the indefenfible nature of the 
 propofition itfelf. In effecting this, I 
 was obliged to follow you into your 
 CONCLUSION, where you had fcattered 
 a part of thefe arguments. I now re- 
 turn to wait upon you with fome re- 
 marks, not upon your third -proportion 
 itfelf, which I think true and unex- 
 ceptionable in all its parts-, but on the 
 examples and arguments you employ 
 to illuflrate and defend it. Thefe I 
 
 think
 
 think partly illufory, and partly pre- 
 pofterous -, and you appear to me, in 
 this part of your work, to beftow upon 
 chriftianity encomiums which it muft 
 difavow. 
 
 You very juftly obferve in your 
 third proposition, " that a fyftem of 
 " ethics may be collected from the 
 " New Teftament, in which every 
 * moral precept, founded on reafon, 
 *' is carried to a higher degree of pu- 
 <c rity and perfection, than in any other 
 * e of the ancient philofophers of pre- 
 " ceding ages." You alfo explain 
 perfectly well what you mean by mo- 
 ral precepts founded on reafon, when 
 you tell us they are fuch as " enforce 
 " the practice of thofe duties that rea. 
 " fon informs us muft improve our 
 ** natures, and conduce to the happi- 
 M 2 " nefs
 
 " nefs of mankind, fuch as "piety to 
 *' God, benevolence to man, juftice, 
 " charity, temperance, and fobriety, 
 *' and fo on." The latter part of 
 your third proportion is exprefled in 
 thefe terms : " every moral precept 
 "founded on falfe principles , is entirely 
 " omitted." Now by precepts, found- 
 ed on falfe principles, you profefs to 
 mean " thofe which recommend fic- 
 " titious virtues, productive of none 
 "of thefe falutary effects" (above- 
 mentioned). And thefe fictitious vir- 
 tues, which, according to you, are 
 no virtues at all, are valour, patrictifm t 
 and friendfaip \ you even go fo far 
 (which, indeed, is furprifing) as to af- 
 firm that thefe fittitious virtues are in- 
 compatible with ths. genius of the ckrif- 
 tian religion^ and, if this be true, you 
 
 do
 
 do them too much honour to call them 
 even fictitious virtues ; you ought to 
 have fpoken out boldly, and called 
 them vices, or at bed defefls. 
 
 This, however, is carrying matters 
 too far. The three moral objects in 
 queftion are certainly very ambigu- 
 oufly underftood, and their fplendid 
 names are bellowed, in the common 
 converfation of the world, upon ef- 
 forts, paffions, and connexions, that 
 have not a fpark of virtue in them : 
 for the fearlefs and brutal temerity of 
 the duellift is called valour-, the popu- 
 lar noife of the corrupt and ambitious 
 is efteemed patriotifi*, and connexions, 
 cemented by intereft, licentioufnefs, 
 or caprice, are unworthily honoured 
 with the name of friend/kip. The 
 abufes of men be to themfelves ; let 
 M 3 them
 
 [ 166 ] 
 
 them not, however, betray us into falfe 
 judgments -, let them not lead us to 
 confound the nature of things with 
 the errors of human fancy, nor to 
 imagine that there is no genuine coin, 
 becaufe we meet with a multitude of 
 counterfeits. 
 
 It is fingular enough, that the 
 omiffion of patriotifm and friendjhip 9 
 among the duties enjoined in the gof- 
 pel, was fneered at by Lord Shaftf- 
 bury as a defect in that institution, 
 and is admired by you as a proof of 
 its perfect purity and divine origin. 
 The truth of the matter is, that you 
 are both miftaken. This omifllon 
 was the dictate of common fenfe, 
 which fliews that his fneer was as ill- 
 founded as it was infolent -, but it does 
 not fuppofe, that the qualities in quef- 
 
 tion
 
 r '6; ] 
 
 tion are all of them fiftitious virtuis. 
 Tour reflexion is certainly not juft : at 
 beft it favours of exaggeration. 
 
 With refpect to valour, 1 hope to 
 convince you that all you fay on that 
 head is ambiguous and inconclufive; 
 and then I lhall ihew its true na- 
 ture, and its perfect conformity with 
 the genius and fpirit of the chriftian 
 religion. Firft, You fay, " that va- 
 *' lour or active courage \sfor themoft 
 ** fart a conftitutional virtue, and 
 *' therefore can have no more claim to 
 " moral merit than wit, beauty, health, 
 " or flrength, or any other endovv- 
 " ment of the mind or body." If 
 you had faid, that it was entirely a con- 
 ftitutional virtue, your conclufion 
 would have had a greater appearance 
 of accuracy ; for, granting it to be a 
 M 4 conftitu- 

 
 conftitutional virtue only for the mojl 
 t^ this iuppofes that there is a part of 
 it which is not conftitutional, and this, 
 of confequence, may have a degree of 
 merit proportioned to the motives and 
 principles that excite it. After all, 
 Sir, the fubjecl: of conftitutional qua- 
 lities or virtues is one of the niceft and 
 moft difficult topicks in the fphere of 
 moral enquiry. Are not all qualities 
 and all virtues more or lefs conftitutio- 
 nal *, i. e. muft there not be in our 
 
 mental 
 
 * The term conftitutional is applicable to thofe 
 propenfitles, difpofitions, capacities, and quali- 
 ties, (or to that meafure of each of them) which 
 a moral being has acquired without any effort 
 of its own cftivity, without previous reflexion 
 and culture, from whatever fource thefe pro- 
 penfities and acquisitions may have immediately 
 proceeded, whether from the ordinal frame ef
 
 [ 169 ] 
 
 mental conftitution, or in its union 
 with our material frame, or in both, 
 fome previous difpofition to all the 
 virtues we poflefs, which reflexion 
 improves, and culture brings to ma- 
 turity ? Whether this previous dif- 
 pofition comes from nature or grace 
 is a point whofe difcufiion is of no 
 moment in the prefent queftion ; in 
 either cafe it is the work of God, and 
 not of man ; but this does not hinder 
 the quality or the virtue from being 
 amiable^ praife- worthy, and excellent* ; 
 
 (for 
 
 the mind, the organifation of the body, or from 
 both in union. 
 
 * Suppofe a being, (an angel, for example) 
 originally created, if that be poffible, in a high 
 degree of perfeftion, with a confirmed tafte for 
 fandVity and order, and a predominant fpirit of 
 
 benevo-
 
 [ -7 3 
 
 (for I don't underftand the word me- 
 ritorious out of its law-fenje in any 
 other fignification). When the pre- 
 vious or (if you pieafe) the conjlitutio- 
 nal difpofition, is approved by a reflex 
 aR of the mind, and cultivated and 
 improved in confequence of this re- 
 flexion, this renders the virtue 'volun- 
 tary^ and thus inputable, and thus 
 meritorious^ if you will oblige me to 
 ufe that word. Now valour, ac- 
 tive valour, in this point of view, is 
 not more neceffarily conflitutional than 
 any other virtue, than patience, refig- 
 nation, or benevolence. You cannoc 
 fhew me, that it arifes from any par- 
 ticular arrangement or modification of 
 
 benevolence and wifdom, would not all thcfe 
 qualities be, in a certain fenfe, conjlitutional ? 
 put would they be lefs amiable on that account? 
 
 matter
 
 matter and motion ; you cannot point 
 out any fuch mould in which moral 
 qualities are call, and therefore your 
 word conftitutional denotes at befl an 
 occult caufe, and conveys no diftinft 
 notion that can be an object of exami- 
 nation. Hence your firft obfervation 
 is erroneous, and, if the author of 
 chriftianity had omitted the recom- 
 mendation of valour, on account of 
 its being conftitutional, he mud have 
 omitted, for the fame reafon, patience, 
 contentment, refignation, and almoft 
 all the virtues. 
 
 But you go ftill farther and tell us 
 not only that vakur is conftitutional, 
 " but that it is the ufual perpetrator 
 " of all violences which diftract the 
 "world with bloodmed and devafta- 
 " tion, the engine by which the ftrong 
 " plunder
 
 " plunder the weak, the proud tram- 
 ** pie upon the humble, the guilty 
 " opprefs the innocent, the inftrument 
 " of ambition, and fo on." As you 
 have not thought proper to define, 
 precifely, what you mean by the term 
 valour, nor pointed out where it coin- 
 cides with, or differs from fortitude, 
 courage, and bravery, you leave us to 
 take it in the vulgar fenfe, and here 
 it is obvious, that effects, quite con- 
 trary to thofe you have mentioned, 
 belong equally to valour. For, furely, 
 valour has often been employed in de- 
 fending the innocent, in humbling the 
 proud, in punifhing the guilty, and 
 in maintaining the liberties and felicity 
 of a people. So that, in this general 
 view, valour is as fufceptible of good 
 effects as of evil ones, and is either 
 
 ufefwl
 
 C '73 1 
 
 ufeful or prejudicial to fociety, ac- 
 cording as it is employed by benevo- 
 lence and juftice, or by lawlefs ambi- 
 tion, envy, or revenge. You make 
 a very thin-fpun and unfatisfactory 
 diftinction between aflive and pajfive 
 courage ; and I am forry to be obliged 
 to tell you, that all your illustrations 
 of this diftindlion are full of fophiftry 
 and contradictions. You fay, that 
 aBive (by which I guefs you mean 
 military) courage, is what a chriftian 
 can have nothing " to do with*-, that 
 " it arifes from the meaneft dilpofi- 
 '* tions of the human mind, pajjion, 
 " vanity, zn&felf -dependence^ ; that it 
 " is the offspring of pride and revenge 
 " and the ferocity of a favage ;" and 
 yet you tell us that you do not " ob- 
 " je<5t to the PRAISE and honours be- 
 
 * P. 56. f P. 57- 
 
 " flowed
 
 [ '74 ] 
 
 * e (lowed on the valiant,*' nay you 
 think thefc " a tribute due by thofe, 
 " whofefafety and affluence they have 
 u promoted by their dangers and fuf- 
 ** ferings *. Indeed ? By your ac- 
 count of them, however, they ought 
 to be driven out of human fociety to 
 howl in deferts with wolves, or, at 
 bed, with lions. I {hewed you fuffi- 
 ciently in my former letter, how un- 
 accountably you interpreted thofe paf- 
 fages of the gofpel, that forbid the 
 revenging injuries, into an univerfal 
 non-refiftance. The Jews had abufed 
 their law of retaliation in fuch a noto- 
 rious manner, and had taken fuch oc- 
 cafion from it to gratify a malicious 
 and vindictive fpirit, that the benevo- 
 
 * P. 56. 
 
 lent
 
 t '75 ] 
 
 lent Saviour thought proper to ufe the 
 ftrongeft terms to difcourage a practice 
 fo contrary to the genius of his divine 
 religion. But that thefe prohibitions 
 Ihould hinder the virtuous and ehrif- 
 tian prince from oppofing the afTaults 
 and devaluations of a licentious ufurper, 
 that this Ihould prevent the citizens 
 of a free country from drawing the 
 fword in defence of their fovereign, 
 their freedom, their national happi- 
 nefs, againft a lawlefs invader, that 
 fuch active oppofition mould be called 
 the offspring of pride, revenge, and 
 favage ferocity ', and that the impofii- 
 bility of its arifing from any other 
 principles mould be fo boldly aflerted : 
 all this I could never have expected to 
 fee. coming from any other quarter 
 than fanatical quietifm. I could ne- 
 i vet
 
 ver have imagined that it would flip 
 from the pen of Mr. Jenyns, and 
 pafs uncorre&ed through four editions 
 of his work. 
 
 You may think perhaps, that you 
 have annihilated all the efteem that is 
 due to valour, when you obferve in 
 the following harmonious gingle of 
 words, " that, if chriftian nations were 
 *' nations of chriftians, all war would 
 " be impoflible, and 'valour could nei- 
 * ther be of ufe or eftimation, and 
 " therefore could never have a place 
 " in the catalogue of chriftian virtues, 
 V being irreconcileable with all its 
 ct precepts." You might as well 
 prove that indujiry is not an ufeful and 
 laudable habit, becaufe, if all men were 
 rich, there would be no occafion for 
 it. Befides, if chriftian nations were 
 
 nations
 
 r w ] 
 
 nations of chriflians, there would be 
 as little occaiion for mercy, forbear- 
 ance, forgiveness of injuries, as there 
 would be for valour -, but does this 
 prove that, in the prefent ftate of 
 things, thefe virtues are of no value ? 
 The truth of the matter is, that 
 valour, or the exertion of vigour in a 
 given caufe, without being daunted by the 
 profpeft of danger, fuffering, or death, 
 is neither a vice nor a virtue, though 
 it has an afpect full of elevation of 
 mind. Valour is good or bad, laud- 
 able or condemnable, according to the 
 caufe in which it is employed, and the 
 principles and motives by which itis ex- 
 cited and nourifhed. When it is em- 
 ployed in the caufe of opprefled inno- 
 cence, ofopprefled nations, and that, not 
 from the mere impulfeofintereft or thirft 
 of fame, but from a generous regard 
 N to
 
 [ -78 ] 
 
 to publick good, it then aflumes the 
 colour of virtue : becaufe it denotes a 
 mind that rifes with dignity, above 
 the narrow fphere of felf-love. Va- 
 lour, here, is blended with benevo- 
 lence, and difcovers the flrength of 
 that divine principle. If the natural 
 fear of fuffering or death be ftrong in 
 the mind, and valour is excited merely 
 by principle ; in fuch a cafe, it is the 
 moft beautiful exertion of benignity 
 that can be imagined ; and is perhaps, 
 of all other energies, that which gives 
 human nature the higheft afpecl: of 
 dignity. But, if you will confound 
 with valour the fearlefs temerity of an 
 impetuous foldiery, it is no great me- 
 rit in chriftianity to have omitted re- 
 commending it ; and, if you take it 
 in its true and moral fenfe, you will 
 2 not
 
 [ '79 ] 
 
 not find that chriftianity has, any 
 where, difcouraged it. The founder, 
 indeed, of that divine religion, who f 
 during his whole miniftry, was ap- 
 prehenfive, left the falfe notions of 
 his kingly character fhould excite the 
 Jews to rebellion, and animate them 
 to the erection of a temporal mo- 
 narchy, could not, with prudence, 
 recommend (what you call active or 
 fighting) valour, among the virtues 
 he was perpetually inculcating. He, 
 however, recommended thofe quali- 
 ties, that are effential to the morality 
 and excellence of valour, by exhorting 
 his difciples not to fear tbofe that can 
 only kill the body ; by forming their 
 minds to the purfuit of happinefs in 
 objects independent on the world and 
 its advantages, by animating them 
 N 2 to
 
 to relinquifli every external pleafure, 
 and fubmit to the greateft extremities 
 of pain and fuffering, rather than de- 
 viate from the paths of virtue, or de- 
 fert the caufe in which they were en- 
 gaged, which was the caufe of divine 
 benevolence and mercy. The honour 
 and fpirit of chriftianity is, in this 
 point of view, the fame with refpect to 
 
 its profefibrs in all ages. In fhort, 
 
 magnanimity, firmnefs of mind, hu- 
 manity, patience, and benevolence, 
 enter, either as principles^ conftituents^ 
 or concomitants^ into the idea of true 
 valour^ and therefore the divine author 
 of our religion could not look upon it 
 as afalfe mfiftitious virtue. 
 
 It would be Hill more furprifing, 
 (if wit did not often make judgment 
 waver) to fee you placing patriotifm 
 
 and
 
 and friend/kip in this clafs offalfe and 
 fictitious virtues. If there can be a 
 frown in heaven, there certainly was 
 one formed on the immortal brows of 
 virtuous legiflators and love- breath- 
 ing feraphims, when they perceived a 
 good man, like you, harbouring fuch 
 a thought in his mino 1 , or letting it 
 drop from his pen. It is not, how- 
 ever, a flight of imagination that can 
 correct an error in morals, and there- 
 fore I propofe to enter into a particu- 
 lar difcufiion of this nice point. 
 
 If you had defined the terms pa- 
 triotifm and friend/hip, this might per- 
 haps have prevented your attempts to 
 eclipfe the luftre of thefe manly and 
 amiable qualities : at leaft, we would 
 then have feen, whether or not you 
 confidered them, as the effufions of 
 N 3 univerfal
 
 [ It* ] 
 
 univerfal benevolence^ di reding its ex- 
 ertions and energy to particular ob- 
 jects, in certain determinate circles, 
 the one more and the other lefs exten- 
 five. If you had confidered them in 
 this point of view, it is impoflible, 
 that, in your fober fenfes, you could 
 have reprefented them tefalfe andjfc- 
 titious virtues ; and if you regard -pa- 
 triot ifm as inconfiftent with the love of 
 mankind, zndfriendjhip as a connexion 
 founded on intereft, corruption, or 
 caprice, then we can have no difpute. 
 I can only charge you with an abufe 
 of words, and put you in the hands of 
 the grammarians. 
 
 Indeed, as to patriotifm^ you draw 
 it in fuch colours as ought rather to 
 have rendered it an object of prohibi- 
 tion, than a quality to be either re- 
 commended
 
 commended or encouraged : for you 
 alledge, " that it commands us to OP- 
 " PRESS all countries to advance the 
 " IMAGINARY profperity of our own, 
 " to copy the mean partiality of an 
 " Englifh parilh officer, who thinks 
 " injuftice and cruelty meritorious, 
 " whenever they promote the interefts 
 <{ of his village." Now, Sir, this is 
 patriotifm, juft as fortitude is cruelty, 
 humility meannefs, (economy avarice, or 
 generojity prodigality, liberty licentiouf- 
 nefs, or the Jpirit of ' faftion a zeal for 
 the publick good. 
 
 Patriotifm is a zeal for the bappinefs 
 of the country to which we belong, and 
 where the moft numerous^ intimate^ and 
 affeclingi of our facial connexions^ are 
 formed and cultivated. By this defini- 
 tion, patriotifm is a branch of uni- 
 N 4 verfal
 
 verfal benevolence, and, inftead of op- 
 pofing, is adapted to promote, at 
 leaft, in part, its great object. For 
 what is the objett of uni verfal benevo- 
 lence, but the general gcod^ or the 
 good of the whole? Now this general 
 good is too extenfive an end, to be 
 directly accomplifhed by the efforts of 
 any man ; and it can only be pro- 
 moted by every perfon's having a 
 hearty affection for the fociety to which 
 he belongs, and a warm zeal for its 
 welfare. Univerfal benevolence is a 
 generous fentiment, a noble affection ; 
 but its real exertion is beyond the 
 fphere of humanity, and it can only 
 become active and ufeful by its appli- 
 cation to particular objects. A man 
 would certainly make a ridiculous fi- 
 gure, who, under the pretext of being 
 
 obliged
 
 [ '85 1 
 
 obliged by chriftianity to exercife only 
 univerfal benevolence, mould neglect 
 his country ', and thofe fmaller focieties, 
 to which alone the ufeful effects of his 
 zeal can extend, and amufe himfelf 
 with forming idle and romantick 
 fchemes for the benefit of foreign na- 
 tions, or the whole race of mankind. 
 In fuch fchemes the individual or the 
 fmaller focieties would be neglected, 
 and the puny effort would be loft up- 
 on the whole. What would you think 
 of a generous alms-giver, who mould 
 fet apart a thoufand pounds to be 
 equally diftributed between all the poor 
 of all nations, tongues, and languages? 
 All that is required to make patriotifm 
 a real and fubftantial virtue, is, its 
 exerting its chief zeal, where it can be 
 really effectual, even for the interefts 
 
 of
 
 of the community to which we belong, 
 in a manner confiftent with and fubfer- 
 vient to the great law of univerfal be- 
 nevolence. Such patriotifm may exift, 
 and it is evidently implied in the pre- 
 cepts of the gofpel. It was not, in- 
 deed, neceffary to make it the object 
 of a pofitive precept. Why ? not as 
 you ftrangely afiert, becaufe it is a 
 falfe and fictitious virtue, but becaufe 
 it is included in the love of mankind, 
 is what all are powerfully inclined 
 to from education, cuftom, and many 
 other reafons, and particularly, be- 
 caufe, at the time of our Saviour's 
 appearance, the true fpirit of patriotifm 
 was grofsly perverted by the Romans, 
 who were the plagues and fcourges of 
 mankind, and had transformed their 
 country into a wicked faction againft 
 
 the
 
 the tranquillity and happinefsof the reft 
 of the world ; while the Jews were fo 
 partially fond of their own nation, 
 that they looked upon themfelves as 
 the only favourites of Heaven, and 
 were difpofed, in erecting a temporal 
 kingdom, to bind the other nations in 
 chain^ and their nobles in fetters of iron, 
 At fuch a period, it was not expedient 
 to recommend narrow views. It was, 
 on the contrary, neceflary to incul- 
 cate that univerfal benevolence that 
 could only purify the principles of 
 patriotifm by oppofmg the progrefs of 
 ambition, avarice, and luxury, which 
 had fpread fuch dreadful defolation 
 and fubverted liberty, juftice, and all 
 the focial virtues. And, neverthelefs, 
 the divine founder of chriftianity, 
 though he did not exprefsly enjoin pa- 
 triot ifm
 
 [ i88 ] 
 
 triotifm by a peculiar and pofitive pre- 
 cept, gave encouragement to it by his 
 example. He wept over Jerufalem 
 under the view of the dreadful cala- 
 mities that were hanging, like an 
 awful cloud, over it, in the counfels 
 of a righteous providence. He felt 
 the tendereft emotions of humanity for 
 that devoted nation, directed his zeal- 
 ous labours to reform the manners of 
 its inhabitants, and, to make them 
 happy, offered them his fuccours and 
 protection, with that natural affection, 
 that he fo beautifully defcribed by the 
 pathetick image of a hen, that taketh 
 her chickens, and covereth them with her 
 wings. 
 
 You treat, Sir, the article of friend- 
 Jkipy (even though you call it a /#;'//- 
 ous virtue) with more tendernefs, than 
 
 that
 
 that of patriotifm -, and here I fuppofe 
 the generous feelings of your heart 
 have modified the harfhnefs of 
 your fyftem. You are, furely, too 
 well acquainted with the amiable fym- 
 pathies of human nature to efteem 
 lightly a connexion, of which it may 
 be as truly faid, Cas it has been of an 
 attachment ftill more tender) that it is 
 the cordial drop, which Heaven has 
 thrown into the cup of life to render it 
 palatable. And yet your notions of 
 the merit of friendfhip are inaccurate 
 
 in the highefl degree. That I may 
 
 avoid both confufed ideas and vague 
 expreflions on this delicate and inter- 
 efting fubject, it will be proper to de- 
 termine precifely the nature and pro- 
 perties of friendfhip ; and then we will 
 fee whether you have not been fome- 
 
 what
 
 [ 190 ] 
 
 what rafh in afierting, that, in its ut- 
 mojl purity, it defer ves no recommen- 
 dation from chriftianity. 
 
 You might have faved yourfelf the 
 trouble of telling us, that, " if friend- 
 " mips are formed from alliances in 
 " parties, factions, and interefts, or 
 " from a participation of vices, they 
 " are then both miichievous and cri- 
 " minal ;" for true friendfhip, and 
 not its counterfeit, is the object under 
 confideration. What then is true 
 friendmip, in its nature, foundations, 
 in the circumftances that cement it, 
 and the qualities that attend it ? My 
 anfwer is, 
 
 Friendjhip is a fincere* fervent ', and 
 permanent union of minds, formed by 
 mutual affection and efteem, founded 
 on real worth, and cemented by inti- 
 mate
 
 [ 9 J 
 
 mate acquaint ance^ frequent intercourfe> 
 exchange of good offices, and fimili- 
 tude of tafte, temper, and manners : 
 it is infeparably attended with perfect 
 candour and unreferved opennefs of 
 heart, interefts itfelf with quick feel- 
 ing and ftrong fenfibility in the plea- 
 fures and pains of its obje<5t,- is raifecl 
 above all fufpicion and jealoufy, above 
 every mean and felfifh view, fheds 
 indulgence upon infirmities and im- 
 perfections, and, with the greateft 
 tendernefs and delicacy of affection, 
 unites the interefts of thofe whom ifi 
 connects, and makes their joys and 
 forrows common. 
 
 Such, Sir, are the principal and efientiai 
 lines of true friendfhip. The chriftian, 
 indeed, muft facrifice the intereftof his 
 friend to that of his country, and muft 
 
 keep
 
 [ 19* J 
 
 keep the effufions of friendfhip in fiib- 
 ordination to the fupreme law of uni- 
 verfal benevolence. This fhews, that 
 there are more fublime virtues than' 
 friend/hip , but it does not prove the 
 latter to be a fictitious virtue. There 
 is a variety of virtues conftantly ope^- 
 rating in the culture of friendfhip,' 
 fuch as candour, indulgence, bene- 
 ficence, aud all the characters of cha- 
 rity, fo beautifully delineated by an 
 infpired apoftle. 
 
 I readily acknowledge, that friend/hip 
 is lefs an obj eft of precept ihanpatriot- 
 ifm ; becaufe this latter, in its 'very ef- 
 fence, is a pofitive branch of univerfal 
 benevolence ; whereas neither benevo- 
 lence, nor even benevolence joined 
 with efteem conftitute wholly die peculiar 
 nature tf friend/hip. This latter con- 
 nexion, as it requires a confent and 
 3 harmony
 
 harmony of minds, and other circum- 
 ftances already mentioned which are 
 not always in our power*, cannot be 
 inculcated as a matter of obligation or 
 as an efTential duty. But, though this 
 be a reafon for not making friendfhip 
 
 * There are innumerable inftances (as an ex- 
 cellent moralift obferves) in which perfons may 
 find/everal among their acquaintance, and in the 
 fame fphere of life, whom they highly ejleem> but 
 not one proper to be chofen for a dofe and ///- 
 mate friend j fo that the recommending private 
 friendjhip, in the general, muft have been abfurd, 
 iince it is only a rare and accidental obligation, 
 dnd never falls in the way of a great part of 
 mankind. And, befides, fuch a precept might 
 have been attended with mifchievous effects j 
 for then the bulk of the world, thinking friend- 
 fhip a duty of religion, and a neceflary branch 
 of fublime and heroick virtue, would enter into 
 ram, unconcerted, and difagreeable alliance?, 
 which would produce much diforder, c. 
 
 O the
 
 [ '94 ] 
 
 the object of a pofitive and indifpen- 
 fable precept, yet it is no reafon for 
 calling it afflitious virtue \ nor is its 
 appropriating benevolence to one fin- 
 gle object, or, at bed, to a fmall 
 number of objects, a reafon for its not 
 having been admitted among the pre- 
 cepts of chriftianity -, for, where the 
 circumftances,. that give rife to friend- 
 ihip, take place, all the energies and 
 effufions of the heart in that amiable 
 union are moral and benevolent. 
 
 I wim, Sir, you had reflected a lit- 
 tle, before you quoted *, as authority 
 on this point, the paflage of St. Luke, 
 where Chrift fays, If you love them- 
 which love you, what thanks have you ? 
 forfmners alfo love thofe that- love them. 
 
 * .6u 
 
 Poes
 
 [ '95 ] 
 
 Does this text prove that connexions 
 of friendfhip have little pretenfions to 
 merit ? No, Sir, this paffage has no 
 relation to friend/hip : it regards bene- 
 ficence and liberality, as every com- 
 mentator will tell you, and as the 
 fpirit and connexion of the words evi- 
 dently (hew. Sinners (by which term 
 Chrift here manifeftly means, not im- 
 perfect creatures, but profligates) arc 
 not fufceptible of friendfhip, whofe 
 bafis mud be virtue, of whatever ma- 
 terials the fuperftructure is compofed : 
 -^-VERA amicitia non nifi inter B NOS. 
 You have mifunderftood here the 
 words of Chrift ; but it is fcarcely pof- 
 fible, that you can mifunderftand his 
 conduct with refpect to (what you call) 
 the falfe zi\& fiftiticus virtue now un- 
 der confederation. Can you give 
 O z friend-
 
 I *9 6 J 
 
 friend/hip thefe epithets, when you fe 
 fhe DIVINE MAN approaching to the 
 grave of Lazarus, when you behold 
 the tears he fhed over it, and when 
 you attend to the various affecting 
 circumftances of this tender fcene? 
 There is fomething more here, than 
 mere benevolence; and that fometbing 
 is intrinfically beautiful and engaging. 
 He, whofe benevolence, was not, like 
 ours,, limited and confined , He y 
 who could make the effects of that 
 benevolence extend to all nations, 
 and perhaps to all worlds ; He, 
 neverthelefs, took a tender part in the 
 more limited charities of human life, 
 and he confecrated friend/hip by his 
 perfuafive example. It was thus he 
 loved Lazarus. Moreover, when 
 he chofe twelve perfons for his imme- 
 diate
 
 C 197 1 
 
 diate followers, he made one of them 
 his friend.: and that friend leaned upon 
 his breaft at the laft fupper, adhered 
 to him at the tribunal, where Peter 
 denied him ; and was charged by him, 
 in his dying moments, with the ten- 
 der care of his domeftick relations. 
 
 3 LETTER
 
 LETTER VL 
 
 SIR, 
 
 IT is with a fingular pleafure, that 
 I find myfelf relieved from the irk- 
 fome tafk of an opponent ; though J 
 ihall be obliged to refume it, or fome- 
 thing like it, before I come to the end 
 of your book. Your excellent ac- 
 count of the precepts of the gofpel 
 gives me this relief. Your definitions, 
 or rather defcriptions, of the virtues 
 that correfpond with the great object 
 and end of the chriftian religion are 
 judicious and fentimentalj they will 
 force the afient of a good underftand- 
 ing, but their truth and excellence 
 will be beft comprehended by the feel- 
 3
 
 [ '99 ] 
 
 ings of a good heart. You have 
 breathed into thefe defcriptions the 
 true and genuine fpirit of chriftianity, 
 and fhewn in them, to man, the true 
 lines of that immortal character, to 
 which alone felicity and perfection are 
 tor can be annexed, in the moral go- 
 vernment of God. 
 
 But, worthy Sir, when oppofite to 
 <this lovely tablature of chriftian virtue 
 you place, in contraft, the imperfect 
 .fyftem of pagan morality, have you 
 been enough upon your guard againft 
 exaggerated and delufive colouring ? 
 Co you not go too far, when you fay*, 
 *' that the moft celebrated virtues of 
 ;<{ the ancients were high fpirit^ intre- 
 pid courage, and implacable refent- 
 
 * Page 88. 
 
 04 " went ?"
 
 [ 20Q ] 
 
 " Methinks a flight reading, 
 even of Cicero's Offices, and the ex- 
 plication that you will there find of 
 the four cardinal virtues would have 
 been fufficient to prevent this fingu- 
 lar aflerpion. Not that I have fuch 
 high ideas of the pagan virtues, as 
 fome entertain ; not that I mean to 
 compare them with the virtue of the 
 gofpel, which are much purer in their 
 principle, and much more noble and 
 extenfive in their object , but that I 
 think it hard to take from thofe, who 
 were lefs favoured than we are, the 
 little they had. But you aftonifh me, 
 indeed, when you add*, " that the 
 " moft celebrated virtues of the pa- 
 * gans are more oppofite to the fpirit, 
 
 * ? 9' 9*. 
 
 ? and
 
 " and more inconfiftent with the end 
 " of chriftian morality, than even 
 '* their mod infamous vices ; and that 
 c a Brutus and a Cato leave the world 
 *' more unqualified for, and more in- 
 " admifllble into the kingdom of hea- 
 44 ven, than zMeffalina or an Hetioga- 
 " balus, with all their profligacy about 
 " them." This is fuch a paradox as 
 I don't remember to have met with 
 elfewhere. Brutus (lay you) mur- 
 dered the oppreflbr of his country: 
 you ought to have faid killed, until 
 the murder had been proved : I don't 
 deny that it was a fort of murder. 
 However, if murder (in the ufual ac- 
 ceptation of that word) is then only 
 committed, when a man takes away 
 the life of his fellow- creature, from 
 the impulfe of cruelty, perfonal inte- 
 
 refi;
 
 [ 202 ] 
 
 reft or lawlefs refentment, the action 
 of Brutus, which was, or is fuppofed 
 to have been of a fublick -nature^ in its 
 motive and object, feems rather to de- 
 /erve the name of homicide, commit- 
 ted through political fanaticifm, a 
 pernicious paflion, indeed, which is 
 always fubverfive of civil order, though 
 it does not always denote bad inten- 
 tion. Political fanaticifm is the fource 
 of anarchy, as political fuperflition is 
 the fupport of tyranny. If, however, 
 in the action of BRUTUS, a zeal for the 
 REPUBLICK was the predominant mo- 
 tive, whatever chaftifement his homi- 
 cide might have deferved from the 
 -civil magiftrate, it could not pafs for 
 murder in the eye of the all-feeing 
 Judge , much lefs ought you |o have 
 founded upon it a comparifon between 
 
 his
 
 [ 203 ] 
 
 his moral character and thofe of a 
 Heliogabalus and a MeiTalina to his 
 difadvantage. It is well known, that 
 the private character of Brutus was 
 mild and amiable ; and it is pretended, 
 that, by the particular conftitution of 
 the Roman government, his killing 
 Csefar was a ftep fufceptible of de- 
 fence. This, indeed, I don't affirm , 
 it is, however, certain, that the point 
 has been difputed ; but no difpute can 
 arife about the incapacity of a Mefla- 
 lina, or of an Heliogabalus, to approach 
 an abode where purity of heart and 
 fanclity reign, efpecially if they pre- 
 tended to enter there with all their pro- 
 fligacy about them* 
 
 For
 
 [ 204 ] 
 
 For vice, though to a radiant angel 
 
 link'd, 
 
 Would face itfelf on a celeftial bed 
 And prey on garbage. 
 
 Shakefpear's Hamlet. 
 You feem, Sir, to have a great aver- 
 Con to war, and fo has every man that 
 has not blunted the precious feelings 
 of benevolence and humanity: but this 
 averfion has made you warm, and 
 your warmth has introduced no fmall 
 confufion Into your ideas and reafon- 
 ings : how otherwife could you throw- 
 out fuch proportions as the following: 
 " tbofe ivbo are aRuated by valour ', pa- 
 " triotifm, or honour , may be VIRTU- 
 ' ous, HONEST, and even RELIGIOUS; 
 " but they cannot be CHRISTIANS." 
 You, indeed, foon forget this propo- 
 fition, and tell us, that without cbrif- 
 
 tianity
 
 iiartity we can have no religion at #//-*> 
 JPergis pugnantia [ecum frontibus adverfa 
 componere : but you will be little 
 alarmed at this contradiction, fmce 
 you have (as we (hall fee prefently) 
 made a difcovery in dialedicks, even 
 this, that contradictory proportions may 
 be true .- this difcovery annihilates the 
 Icience, and,, with it, all the founda- 
 tions of truth and certainty ; but it 
 feems there is no help for that : and 
 we have nothing left, but to call out 
 wkh the poet, quantum eft in rebtes 
 INANE ? 
 
 To return to the poor pagans, you 
 are flill more hard upon thern, than 
 the ardent and orthodox bifliop of 
 Hippo. He called their virtues fplendid 
 fins ; you place them on a level with 
 the mod infamous vises \ but then you 
 
 make
 
 [ 206 .] 
 
 make fome amends for this hafty deci- 
 fion, and tell us *, that men, attuated 
 by them, may be virtuous, honeft, 
 and even religious : you, however, af- 
 firm, that they cannot be chriftians, 
 though you charitably grant, that this 
 title may belong to the vicious and 
 profligate. You acknowledge, indeed* 
 that the profligate man is a bad chrif- 
 tian, and why not allow the patriot 
 and the man of honour, at leaft, the 
 fame privilege ? " Becaufe", fay you, 
 * l a man -f , whofe ruling principle is 
 " honour> 
 
 * P. 94, 95- 
 
 -f- Mr. Jenyns ought to have faicl, " a man 
 " who is aftuated by honour." This was the 
 exprefikm ufed in the beginning of the argu- 
 ment, and it conveys an idea different from that 
 which we attach to the terms ruling principle ; 
 
 the
 
 " honour, erefts a ftandaru of duty, 
 < diametrically oppofite to the whole 
 " tenor of the chriftian religion." If 
 honour is fought by virtuous and piou* 
 deeds, this aflertion is not true, at 
 Jeaft, it is not accurate; if it is fought 
 by rapine, faction, or bloodfhed, it is 
 falfe honour* m& your propofition beats 
 the wind. Befides no man ever 
 creeled honour as zftandard (by which 
 I fuppofe you mean a criterion or a 
 principle) of duty. Honour is the con- 
 fequence and not the principle of duty : 
 it is the tribute of approbation or 
 applaufe that is beftowed by fpeclators 
 upon generous, virtuous, and, with 
 
 the former is particular, the latter is irnverfal. 
 A man may be afiuated by a fenfe of honour, 
 without its being his ruling principle in the con-- 
 duft of life. 
 
 your
 
 t 208 ] 
 
 your leave, upon chriftian deeds. Iri 
 this point of view, it is one of the 
 good things of a prefent life, and, if 
 St. Paul is not miftaken, it will take 
 place, in the pureft and nobleft fcenes 
 of future exiftence, when eternal life 
 fhall be adminiftered to thofe, who, 
 by a patient continuance in well- doing, 
 feek for glory, HONOUR, and immorta- 
 lity *. But if you will perfift to com- 
 bat, under the name of honour, that 
 vain-glory and thofe fplendid titles, 
 that are acquired by rapine and law- 
 lefs bloodfhed, your abufe of language, 
 which naturally introduces confufion 
 of ideas, muft appear reprehenfible to 
 every judicious reader. 
 
 * Rom. ii. 7. 
 
 Thus,
 
 r 209 ] 
 
 Thus, Sir, have I gone through 
 your three proportions, with alternate 
 feelings of pleafure and pain, arifing 
 from the fingular mixture of piety, wit, 
 error, wifdom, and paradox, that 
 they exhibit to an attentive obferver. 
 There is a glare in the whole, that 
 may dazzle the unwary , and this effect 
 it hath produced on a multitude of 
 readers, if I have not been greatly 
 mifinformed. And it is furely to be 
 lamented, that, after having faid, in 
 one-moment, the moft excellent things 
 in defence of chriftianity, and tbat 
 alfo in the moft elegant, original, 
 and affecting manner, you throw out, 
 in another, the ftrangeft reprefenta- 
 tions of the fpirit and genius of that 
 divine religion. 
 
 P But
 
 [ 210 ] 
 
 But I haften to your coNCLusioif 
 and this fhall be the fubjeft of my 
 laft letter. 
 
 LETTER
 
 1 211 ] 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 S I R, 
 
 TH E firft eighteen pages of your 
 CONCLUSION contain an excel- 
 lent fummary of, what I would call, 
 , the prefumptive evidence of the chrifti- 
 an religion. You have reduced it to 
 a narrow compafs ; you have ex- 
 preffed , it with perfpicuity, warmth, 
 and elegance i and, if your VIEW 
 had ended here, the candid reader 
 would have rifen from its perufal, 
 with a lively fenfation of conviction, 
 that would have made him forget ma- 
 ny of the things that ftaggered him in 
 the preceding parts of your book. 
 But you proceed farther and, bring- 
 P l ing
 
 [ * 3 
 
 ing us back into the cloudy region of 
 paradox, you lofe the ground you had 
 fairly gained. You refemble an over- 
 warm general, who, after having won 
 the field, purfues injudicioufly his ene- 
 my on difadvantageous ground, and 
 is thus expofed to fee his laurels wither 
 in a moment, or, at leaft, Jofe much 
 of their bloom. Such is, I fear, your 
 cafe, in fome of the anfwers you give 
 to the deiftical objeftor. You enable 
 a vanquiflied enemy to return to the 
 combat ; you even fometimes put 
 weapons into his handj and, though 
 thefe advantages will not enable him 
 to regain the field, they will ftill keep 
 him flickling and fkirmifhing, and 
 give him a certain air of confequence 
 in the eye of the fuperficial obferver of 
 things. In plain Englifb, Sir, your 
 
 manner
 
 f 213 ] 
 
 manner of anfwering the objections of 
 unbelievers will often tend to multiply 
 the cavils which deifm draws from 
 incidental objects, and thus perplex 
 the feeble minds of we'll-meaning chriL 
 tians. 
 
 It has been alledged by unbelievers, 
 that " all revelation from God is incre- 
 " dible, becaufe unmceffary^ and un- 
 " neceflary, becaufe the reafon he be- 
 " flowed upon mankind is fufficiently 
 *' able to difcover all the religious and 
 *' moral duties, which he requires of 
 " them, if they would but attend to 
 " their precepts, &c" *. Such ob- 
 jectors have been told a thoufand times, 
 that the fufficiency of that reafon, of 
 which they boaft, is owing to the 
 
 * P. 115. 
 
 P 3 ftrength
 
 ftrength it has, in fact, derived from 
 divine revelation. Like the wifeacre, 
 who thought the fun ufelef?, becaufe 
 it fhines only when we are favoured 
 with the light of the day> they enjoy 
 many rays both of intellectual and 
 moral knowledge, of which they ftu- 
 pidly or perverfely difavow the prin- 
 cipal fource. But fince we know from 
 whence they have obtained the prin- 
 ciples of their religious knowledge, 
 and know this not by conjecture, but 
 by daily obfervation , fince we know, 
 that they have learned from their 
 cradles, under chriftian teachers, both 
 in private and publick, the unity of 
 God, the doctrine of repentance, re- 
 mifiion, and immortality : fince we 
 know, that the doctrines and precepts 
 of chriftiamty have been blended and 
 
 inter-
 
 [ "5 ] 
 
 interwoven with the early growth of 
 their reafon, and the gradual improve- 
 ment of their faculties ; fince, I fay,, 
 we know all this, the true way of go- 
 ing to work with the clafs of objectors, 
 now under confideration, is evident 
 and plain : we have only to call upon 
 them to prove, that they would have 
 had day-light^ if there had been no fun : 
 and that they and the body of the 
 people would have acquired a com- 
 plete knowledge of religious and mo- 
 ral duties, without the gofpel. 
 
 It is not poflible for me to demon- 
 flrate, nor even to prove, that a pea- 
 fant cannot find out the longitude with- 
 out fuccour : but, if the peafant pre- 
 tends that he is equal to the under- 
 taking, it lies upon him to prove that 
 he is fo. The cafe is quite parallel to 
 P 4 that
 
 that implied in the objection before 
 us. It is incumbent upon the deifts 
 to prove, that, without the gofpeli 
 they and the various inhabitants of 
 the chriftian world would have arrived 
 at the fame degree of knowledge, both 
 religious and moral, that we thisday en- 
 joy. This they never have proved: 
 this they never reprove : and yet, until 
 they prove this,, their objection to reve- 
 lation, as incredible, beczufeunneceffary, 
 muft have no weight, but to demon - 
 ftrate their ingratitude and prefump- 
 tion. 
 
 Pardon me, Sir, for rectifying your 
 argument: it was quite neceffary for 
 the true defence of our common caufe 
 to take this liberty. For your anfwer 
 to the objection, as it ftands at pre- 
 fent, will expofe you to much cavilling 
 
 and
 
 [ 217 ] 
 
 and chicane, nay, to fome embararTment 
 from the quarter of infidelity. When 
 you defire the objector * " to turn his 
 " eyes to thofe remote regions of the 
 " globe to which fupernatural affift- 
 ** ance has never been extended, and 
 " tell him that he will fee there men\ 
 * ; endued with fenfe and reafon not ;'- 
 '* ferior to cur own> fo far from being 
 ** capable of forming fyftems of reafoa 
 " and morality, that they are this day 
 ct totally unable to make a nail or A 
 " hatchet-" and when hence you con- 
 clude (from particular to univerfal) 
 *' that reafon alone is neither fufficient 
 " to offer to mankind a perfect reli- 
 " gion, nor even to lead them to any 
 " degree of civilifationj" when you 
 
 * P. 1 1 6.
 
 [ 218 ] 
 
 thus premife and thus conclude, do you 
 think the objector will be fiient ? Na 
 fuch thing He will tell you, that it 
 is not true, that thefe men, who are 
 unable to make a nail or a hatchet, are 
 endued with fenfe and reafon net in- 
 ferior to ours. He will tell you, that 
 their fenfe and reafon may be fimilai' 
 in their nature to ours, though differ- 
 ent, greatly different, in their degree 
 even of original capacity, activity, and 
 penetration, fince there is an immenfe 
 variety in the works of God, and 
 whole claffes of the fame fpecies may 
 differ from each other in the degrees 
 of original capacity and genius, as in- 
 dividuals are known to do. The deift 
 will moreover tell you that, if your 
 reafoning be good, NEWTON and 
 LA CAILLE muft have been mathe- 
 maticians
 
 [ 2*9 1 
 
 rhaticians and aftronomers by divine- 
 revelation, fmce the inhabitants of 
 Otaheite and New Zealand, whofe fenfe 
 and reafon (in your eftimation) are not 
 inferior to their s^ have never approached 
 the fimpleft elements either of mathe- 
 mattcks or aftronomy. There are, cer- 
 tainly, in this our globe, vifible marks 
 of *#^r/ original capacities in different 
 nations, which neither chriftianity, nor 
 repeated attempts towards civilifation 
 and culture, have been able to remove j 
 and this is too palpable to need any 
 proof. I don't therefore fee how, by 
 your manner of dating the argument, 
 you can get rid of this reply to your 
 anfwer. 
 
 To have urged with fuccefs the argu- 
 ment in favour of chriftianity, drawrr 
 from the ignorance and errors (in reli-
 
 [ 120 1 
 
 glous matters) of thofe nations that 
 enjoyed no divine revelation, you 
 ought to have taken a different me- 
 thod. Inftead of reiling your proof 
 on the Hate of thofe' barbarous nations 
 who are placed on the very lowed line 
 in the fcale of humanity, you ought 
 to have begun by Egypt, Greece, and 
 Rome, the feats of learning and arts. 
 You fay, indeed*, " that human rea- 
 " fonin its higheft ftate of cultivation, 
 ** among the philofophers of Greece 
 " and Rome, was never able to form 
 *' a religion comparable to chrifti- 
 " anity j" but this is faying the thing 
 very feebly : it is only mewing a fmall 
 part of the truth : it is pafling rapidly 
 over the mod glaring facts, that (hew,- 
 
 * P. 122. 
 
 with
 
 I 221 ] 
 
 with d. blazte of evidence, the inefti- 
 mable advantages of the chriftian reli- 
 gion. You ought to have (hewn that 
 the progrefs of religious and moral 
 knowledge, in thefe nations, bore no 
 fort of proportion to their improvements 
 in civiiifation, literature, eloquence, 
 and the ufeful and elegant arts of life : 
 fo far from it, that the faireft afpects 
 of human fcience were degraded by a 
 motley mixture of the mod difgufting 
 forms of idolatry and fuperftition *. 
 
 You 
 
 * Some writers (fays Mr. Hume) have been 
 furprifed, that the impieties of Ariftophanes mould 
 have been publickly afted and applauded by the 
 Athenians ; a people fo fuptrftitious and fo jea- 
 lous of the publick religion, that, at that very 
 time, they put Socrates to death for his ima- 
 gined incredulity. But thefe writers (continues 
 he) confider not, that the ludi<rout familiar
 
 [ 222 ] 
 
 You ought to have (hewn- them altars 
 raifed to the unknown God, ftatues 
 regarded as endued with divine power, 
 
 images, under which the gods are reprefented 
 by that comick poet, inftead of appearing im- 
 pious, were the genuine lights, in which the an- 
 cients conceived their divinities. See HUME'S 
 Nat. Hijt. of Religion, %vo edit. 1757. 
 
 It is here worthy of obfervation, that there is 
 perhaps no book more adapted to fhew the un- 
 fpeakable advantages of a divine revelation, than 
 this. The accounts we find here of the horrid 
 and ludicrous reprefentations of the deity, that 
 prevailed in the moft learned nations of the pa- 
 gan world, arefo ftriking, that a thinking mind, 
 -anxious about its deltination, and defirous of an 
 objecl of confidence adapted to fecure its felicity, 
 uft rejoice in thofe views of an omnipotent, 
 wife, good, and merciful Being, whom chrifti- 
 anity exhibits to its faith and improved reafon, 
 as a protector, a father, and a guide, through 
 Jife, death, and a boundlefs duration, 
 
 religious
 
 religious fervices confederated to vices 
 in that very city, where Solon gave 
 laws, where Socrates taught philofo- 
 phy, where Plato and Xenophon dif- 
 played the treafiires of their mailer's 
 wifdom ; where Sophocles and Euri- 
 pides compofed their tragedies, and 
 where Phidias made the marble breathe 
 life, character, and beauty in their 
 moft fublime and graceful forms. 
 Plain fact would have here (lopped 
 the mouth of the objector, much more 
 effectually than your general and in- 
 accurate aflertions, that " reafon> even 
 *' when furnijhed with materials by fu- 
 *' pernatural aid, if left to the guidance 
 " of ber own wild imaginations *, falls 
 " into more numerous and more grofs 
 
 * The imaginations of rea/on is a very ftrange 
 exprelTion. 
 
 ** errors,
 
 w errors, than her own native igno- 
 " ranee could have .fuggefted ; that 
 " me perfuaded fome that there is no 
 " God , others that there can be no fu- 
 " ture (late j that (he has taught fome 
 " that there is no difference between 
 *' virtue and vice ; and that to cut a 
 "marts throat and relieve his nece/tties 
 " are actions equally meritorious *, 
 *' &c." Dear Sir, if fuch is the cha- 
 charader of REASON, and if, as you 
 add, Jht can foew.y that, " there is 
 " nothing in anything," and "prove 
 " by recurring to firft principles that there 
 " are no principles at ail/' I really 
 think fhe ought to be burnt for a 
 xvitch, and that we mould give our- 
 felves over tamely to the Leviathan, to 
 
 P. 120. 
 
 tell
 
 tell us, by the potent voice of autho- 
 rity, what is right and what is wrong, 
 in philofophy and religion, as well as 
 in politicks. But you would have 
 done better if you had not confounded 
 falfe reafoning, which alone can lead 
 to all thefe abfurdities, with the fa- 
 culty of reafon, which is the candle of 
 the Lord in the breaft of man. 
 
 This candle, indeed, had its light 
 obftructed in the pagan world, by 
 mifts of ignorance ; and, more efpeci- 
 ally, in the article of religion, falfe 
 lights were held forth by the pafilons 
 and prejudices of men, and the mife- 
 rable inventions of political prieft- 
 craft. 
 
 It is truly ftrange to fee fuch reli- 
 ligious non-fenfe, fuch childifli opini- 
 ons, confecrated by publick authority 
 
 and
 
 [ 226 ] 
 
 and private devotion, amidft fuch dif- 
 plays of genius, activity, and tafte, in 
 the advancement of arts and fciences. 
 The chriftian peafant, who knows thar 
 his God is one, eternal, without body, 
 limits, or vifible reprefentation, that 
 he-loves order, loves his creatures, will 
 pardon the fins of the penitent and fin- 
 cere, and make them, after this ftate of 
 pafTage, partakers of happinefs and. 
 immortality, knows more of religion* 
 than all the difciples of Socrates, and 
 has .more clear and confident notion s 
 of the Deity than Socrates himfeif.. 
 If this peafant, with his prefent por- 
 tion of knowledge, fmall as it may 
 be, could be fuppofed to have exifted 
 at Athens, when Epimenides was let- 
 ting look his white and black fheep at 
 the Areopagus, to direct the Atheni- 
 ans where they mould facrifice Or, 
 
 when.
 
 vrhen this wife Areopagus condemned 
 Stilpo to banilhmcnc for denying that 
 the Minerva of Phidias was a real god, 
 he would have burft out into a loud 
 
 laugh. All this fhews, that Athens 
 
 was the ground you ought to have 
 chofen for your ftand to repel the ob- 
 jection under confideration, by (hew- 
 ing that progrefs in the faiences and 
 arts is compatible with the grofleft ig- 
 norance in religion, and therefore, 
 that the gofpel might be highly ad-* 
 vantageous, even where natural reafon 
 was in its greatcft improvement. 
 
 But, indeed, you could not well 
 make ufe of this ground, nor ftate 
 the argument in this manner; for, 
 according to your notion of things, 
 the Athenians were not even philofo- 
 phers, hiftoria-ns, poets, legiflarors, 
 a and
 
 [ 228 J 
 
 and artifts, without the fuccours de> 
 rived either immediately, or in a 
 more remote manner, from divine re- 
 velation. This feems to be evidently 
 your opinion, when you afTert *, that, 
 " though human reafon is capable of 
 " progreffion. in fcience y yet the firft 
 " foundations muft be laid by fuper- 
 " natural inftruflions" This is truly 
 a fingular aflertion : nee Deus interfjt r 
 wfi digyiu* vindice nodus? is a wife max- 
 im,, which you feem to have entirely 
 forgot. Wants, obfervation, experi- 
 ence, genius, time, occafion, and cir- 
 tfumftances are fufficient to account 
 both for the rife and progrefs of hu- 
 man fcience in all periods of the 
 world. It is true, that the chriftian 
 religion gave occafion to the improve- 
 ment of fome branches of fcience, 
 * Page *i8.- 
 
 Whca
 
 [ 22 9 3 
 
 When fuch grand truths, as the unity 
 and eternity of God, the remiffion cff;n 
 by a Mediator^ the refttrreRion and im- 
 mortality of reafonable beings, were re- 
 vealed as/tf^j, they naturally excited, 
 in thinking minds, a curiofity to know 
 the foundations, which fuch f^Jls 
 might have in die nature of God, the 
 nature of man, and the nature of 
 things. Hence metaphy(kal fcience 
 undoubtedly derived .new degrees of 
 improvement and precifion. The man- 
 ner alfo in which the divin promifes, 
 with refpedt to the future deftination 
 of man, might be accomplimed, was 
 a natural objedr, of philofophical en- 
 quiry, and thus the gofpel opened to 
 human curiofity large fields of fpecu- 
 lation, which have both improved xhe 
 powers of the mind, and tended to 
 0.3 the
 
 [ 230 ] 
 
 the advancement of moral and meta- 
 phyfical fcience -, but it is, neverthe- 
 lefs, true, that all human fciences may 
 have been, nay, were actually culti- 
 vated in a certain degree, without the 
 intervention of fupernatural inftruc- 
 tic:., to which fource it is impofiible 
 to trace them with any meafure of 
 hiftorical evidence, that is fatisfactory 
 or flriking. You fay, that there is 
 no reafon to be affigned, why one part 
 of mankind mould *have made fuch an 
 amazing progrefs in knowledge, while 
 the other, formed with the SAME na- 
 tural capacities? mould remain in a 
 flate little fuperior to the brutes, 
 " except that the firft have received 
 ** divine communications, and the 
 ** latter have never yet been favoured 
 
 " with
 
 t *3 3 
 
 *< with fuch afllftance *." But it re 
 denied, that the nations which live 
 without government, letters, or laws, 
 have the fame natural capacities which 
 the others are endowed with, and it 
 v/ill be ever impoffible to prove that 
 they have. I repeat it again, as there 
 'is a ftriking difference between the ori- 
 .ginal genius and capacity of -individu- 
 als in one nation, fo there may be, 
 and no doubt is a diverfky,of the fame 
 kind between nations. Every appear- 
 ance is in favour of this diverfity : 
 repeated obfervation and experience 
 confirm it ; fo that your reafoning is 
 built upon a circumftance which ap- 
 pears to be falfe, and which you never 
 can prove to be true. This diverfity 
 
 * P. 119. 
 
 Q 4 feems
 
 [ *32 3 
 
 Teems to be the pofuive appointment 
 of divine providence : it enters as an 
 efTential part in that plan of govern- 
 ment in which variety of beings, ca> 
 pacities, characters, and talents, re- 
 duced to unity of defign, will be feen 
 one day to terminate in univcrfal 
 beauty, fymmetry, and perfection. 
 
 So that, Sir, we may account for 
 the diverfity that is vifible in the in- 
 tellectual and moral (late of different 
 nations, for the improvements of fome 
 in knowledge, policy, legiflation, and 
 commerce, and the favage {cupidity 
 and ignorance of others, without hav- 
 ing any recourfe to the diftinctions 
 formed by fupernatural inftrudion, 
 granted to fome and not vouchfafed 
 to the reft. A diverfity of original 
 'capacity will folvc the : problem fuffici- 
 
 ently,
 
 [ 233 ] 
 
 ently, as far as the phenomenon to be 
 explained relates to human knowledge, 
 and to the arts and fciences which 
 have for their objecls the embellifh- 
 ment and improvement of human fo- 
 ciety, by fources of pleafure, or ob- 
 jeds of utility. The cafe with reli- 
 gious knowledge is different : and 
 therefore, having granted to your 
 deift, whom you had brought to 
 Athens, inftead of Otaheite, that 
 thefe elegant and learned Grecians 
 owed all their improvements to the 
 culture of their reafon, you might 
 have aiked him, whence, amidft this 
 improvement of reafon, proceeded the 
 abfurdity of their theological opinions ? 
 He mud anfwer, from the iveaknefs 
 or alufe of reafon , for there is no other 
 poffible anfwer to be given. Grant- 
 ing
 
 [ *. J 
 
 ang the abufe of reafon, rerelatibn 
 muft be efleemcd at leaft advantage- 
 ous -, granting its weaknefs t revela- 
 tion muft be allowed to-be necefiary.; 
 and thus, in both cafes, the objection, 
 now before us, falls to the ground. 
 
 I am, however, perfuaded (and 
 here, no doubt, you and I agree) 
 that, with refpect to a juft idea of the 
 object of religion, the vseaknefs of rea- 
 fon is as demonftrable, as the ill 
 *jfe that has been made of it. And if 
 a deift, acknowledging the abvafe of 
 natural reafon in the pagan world, 
 \vhich is a faL> fliiould, neverthelefs, 
 jnfift upon its capacity of arriving, 
 without the affiftance of revelation, at 
 <juft potions of the fupreme Being, 
 and of religious duty, which is a quel- 
 liun of tbzcry> I would addrcfs myfelf 
 
 19
 
 t *35 1 
 
 to the gentleman, in pretty much the 
 following terms : 
 
 1 fee reafon making great improve- 
 ments in human fciencc, whofe ob- 
 jects are, in a certain degree within our 
 reach as vifible, or tangible, or know- 
 able by obfervation, confcioufnefs, or 
 experience. The mind, pofieffed of 
 leifure, may derive, from the contem- 
 plation of thefe objects, fucceffive dif- 
 coveries of their properties, connexi- 
 ons, and influence, and thus the mafs 
 of intellectual acquifitions may be go- 
 ing on towards the formation of a fyf- 
 tem. But as to divine knowledge or 
 the knowledge of the fupreme Being, 
 in his nature and perfections, as he is- 
 in himfelf, and in his relation to us, 
 and his defigns with refpect to our 
 prefent ftate and future deftination, 
 i the
 
 the cafe is fomewhat different. This 
 great Being is not the direct object of 
 any faculty of perception, nor does he 
 rcfemble any thing that' is fo. Men 
 might have rifen to fome notion of 
 fuperior power from the fyftem of na- 
 ture both phyfical and moral ; bat 
 whether this power was lodged in one 
 being, or in many, was not fo eafily to 
 be aicertained, and flill more does it 
 appear beyond the reach of unaiTifted 
 reafon to ftretch its conception to the 
 nature and qualities of an abfolutely. 
 perfect mind. Pure fpirituality, om- 
 nifcience, omniprefence, and omnipo- 
 tence, and their aftoniihing fource, 
 necefiary exiftence, are. not commen- 
 furate to the human, faculties. Sam- 
 ples of wifdom, power, and gocdnefs, 
 .exhibited in the works of nature, and 
 in the courfe of events, le,ad men to 
 
 attri-
 
 C 237 I 
 
 attribute thefe qualities to the Author 
 of nature ; but the various and COIT- 
 trary events of life, the mixture of 
 evil with good in this imperfect ftate, 
 gave rife, through human ignorance 
 and error, to motley fyftems of poly- 
 theifm and idolatry. Though the or- 
 der and frame of the univerfe, when 
 accurately examined, afford an argu- 
 ment that ought to lead a rational 
 mind to the pure principles of natural 
 religion, and carry it through the vaft 
 interval which is interpofed between 
 the divine and human nature, yet they 
 did not produce this effect in the moft 
 enlightened nations of paganifm : and 
 this mews that fupernatural inftruclion 
 was mcejfary to fhew us what God />, 
 what he requires of us for the prefect, 
 and what Y.re his dejigns with refpecl to 
 our future condition in the univerfe. 
 
 But
 
 But, when we talk of the chriftian 
 revelation as nectjjary, we mean by 
 this, that it is a difpenfation of divine 
 wifdom, without which we would not 
 have enjoyed that meafure of know- 
 ledge with which we are actually 
 blefled, thofe guides to duty that di- 
 rect our conduct, nor thoie views of 
 futurity that purify, confole, and en- 
 noble the mind. The end of Chrift's 
 mifiion was to raife one part of the 
 human race to a high and diftinguimed 
 degree of perfection and felicity. But 
 it was not the defign of the Deity to 
 raife all mankind to this degree, any 
 more than it was his intention that all 
 men mould become pbilofopbers. The 
 fact proves this demonftrably : the 
 nations that have not been vifited by 
 the gofpel, and the generations that 
 
 have
 
 have pafied through- this flage- of Iiu- 
 manity before the light of the gofpeli 
 arofe on the world, had their fpheres- 
 and their deitination unknown to us ;. 
 they were lefs favoured than the chrif- 
 tian, as the chriftian is lefs perfect thaiv 
 the angels, and the angels than the 
 feraphims. BUD was the Deity to create 
 no order of beings but feraphims ? 
 Ghriftianity feems not to have been ne- 
 ceffary, becaufe not adapted to the 
 fpbere of the Hottentot, nor even to- 
 other nations lefs uncultivated and. 
 barbarous. But it was necefTary to 
 moral improvement and faving know- 
 ledge in that fphere of beings to 
 which it has been vouchfafed, and 
 thofe, who (hut voluntarily their eyes 
 on its divine luftre, will be called to. 
 an account, wfiich will not be required 
 trom thofc that are placed lower in the 
 
 fcale
 
 [ 2 4 ] 
 
 fcale of being. Different fpheres of 
 beings and degrees of perfection were 
 (as it would teem, and as lias been al- 
 ready obferved) necefTary to the order 
 and perfection of the univerfal fyftem; 
 but, in every fphere which enters into 
 that fyftem, the lot of the individual 
 muft be determined by the means he 
 has enjoyed and his improvement or 
 negleH of them. This will, one day, 
 leave the children of infidelity under 
 the light of the gofpel, without ex- 
 cufe, and, it is to be feared, without 
 confolation, wb'dcwiftbm will bejujli- 
 jied of HER children, by their faith 
 and hope in this temporary ftate of 
 trial, and by their approaching re- 
 moval to a nobler fcene of activity 
 and enjoyment. 
 
 POST-
 
 C 241 ] 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 THOUGH there are feveral 
 things exceptionable in your 
 anfwers to other deiftical objections, 
 which have been propofed and refuted 
 times without number, yet I (hall 
 here curb the fpirit of criticifm ; for 
 to have been fo long fcuffling in po- 
 lemicks is a thing very foreign to my 
 turn of mind. It was my principal 
 intention, in thefe letters, to confider, 
 what you had advanced with refpect 
 to the internal evidence of chriftianity. 
 You have already my fentiments on 
 that fubject delivered with franknefs 
 and candour. 
 
 R I can-
 
 [ 2 4 2 ] 
 
 I cannot, however, take my leave 
 of you, Sir, without a few remarks on 
 your manner of anfwering the fecond 
 and fifth objections brought by the 
 deifts againft the divine origin and au* 
 ihority of the gofpel. 
 
 My reafon for this is, that the- 
 manner, in which you anfwer the 
 one, diminifhes the weight of moral 
 evidence-, and the principle, on which 
 you repel the other, is fubverfive, I 
 fear, of all evidence whatever. 
 
 The firft of thefe objections is de- 
 rived from the fuppofed errors, varia- 
 tions, and contradictions, that are to 
 be found in the books of the Old and 
 New Teftament. There are few ob- 
 jections againft chriftianity,-that have 
 been anfwered in a more fatisfactory 
 manner than this has been ; and you 
 
 have
 
 have alledged feveral judicious confi- 
 derations to deftroy its force, particu- 
 larly, with refpect to thofe philofophi- 
 cal errors that have been admitted 
 into common converfation in confe- 
 quence of popular opinion, and which 
 muft be always adopted in a language 
 that is addrefled to the generality of 
 mankind. As to the variations and 
 contradictions that have been charged 
 upon the facred writers, they have 
 been difingenuoufly exaggerated from 
 the quarter of infidelity ; fuch, how- 
 ever, as they are, they are fufficient 
 to make the apologifts for chriftianity. 
 more prudent and circumfpec~l in de* 
 termining the extent of divine infpira- 
 tion, than they have generally been ; 
 and the learned and judicious Dr. War* 
 fon has exhibited a laudable example 
 R 2 of
 
 [ 24+ ] 
 
 of this circumfpection in his mafterly 
 anfvver to Mr. Gibbons. He has 
 flruck wifely into the middle path; 
 but I fear, Sir, that you have run in- 
 to an extreme on this delicate fubject, 
 or, at leaft, gone, farther than is ne- 
 ceflary, to avoid the inconveniencies 
 that attend the hypothefis of certain 
 doctors, with refpectto the infpiration 
 of the facred writers. You maintain, 
 that " the truth of a revelation is not 
 * e affected by the fallibility of thofe 
 " who wrote its hiftory *." But this- 
 afiertion cannot be admitted as a gene- 
 ral principle : its truth depends upon 
 the degree of fallibility in the hiftorian, 
 and upon the objects to which it ex- 
 tends : becaufe, however true a reve- 
 
 * P. 123. 
 
 lation-
 
 iation may be in itfelf> i. e. with re- 
 fpeft to the perfons who have imme- 
 diately received it, it cannot be true t 
 with refpedt to you and me, or, in 
 other words, we cannot be perfuaded 
 of its truth, -but by our conviction of 
 the accuracy and fidelity of thofe, 
 who relate it , and this accuracy and 
 fidelity cannot be fully afcertained, 
 but by fuch a fuperintendent infpira- 
 tion, at lead, as fecures the hiftorian 
 againft all effential error. You affirm, 
 -that the truth of a revelation (i. e. the 
 certainty of its divine origin) depends 
 upon the internal evidence of its own 
 fupernatural excellence ; this point, I 
 hope, has been already fufficiently 
 tiifcufled in the preceding letters. 
 But you go ftill farther, and boldly 
 .affirm, that this internal evidence in 
 R 3 favour
 
 [ 246 ] 
 
 favour of chriftianity would not be 
 diminilhed, even on the fuppofition, 
 " that all the prophecies were only 
 <c fortunate gueffes or artful applications, 
 " all the miracles of the gofpel lc- 
 * gendary tales, (i. e. lyes) and all the 
 c< books of fcripture, inflead of being 
 ** written by their pretended authors, 
 " posterior impofitionson illiterate and 
 * credulous ages *." What ! Sir, 
 could perfons, notorious for lying and 
 forgery, have been really cloathed 
 with a divine miffion ? Befides, had 
 the books of fcripture been forged in 
 later ages, and their authors been ca- 
 pable of fraud and fiction, the mora- 
 lity of the gofpel, alone, could have 
 pretended to the characters of a reve- 
 
 P. 131. 
 a Jation
 
 247 ] 
 
 htion on account of its intrinfick 
 beauty and excellence ; but all the ac- 
 counts of Jefus fuffering, dying, and 
 exalted, all the promifes and facts, 
 recorded in the gofpel, muft have been 
 fufpeded as falfe and fabulous ; and 
 what, then, would your internal evi- 
 dence prove ? You infift again, " that 
 *' a religion fuperior to all human 
 <c imagination actually exifts, and its 
 " intrinfical excellence is a proof of 
 11 its divine origin, by whatever means 
 ** it was introduced, or with whatever 
 " errors it was blended * j" I muft 
 alfo beg leave to tell you again, that 
 this religion confifts of fafls, as well 
 as precepts j that the facts are afcer- 
 tained by veracity, as the precepts are 
 
 P'lSZ, "33 
 
 R 4 recom-
 
 [ 2 4 8 ] 
 
 recommended by their intrinfick exr 
 cellence, and the new authority they 
 derive from the truth of the facts, 
 which declare Chrift to have been the 
 Son of God ; and that your proof of 
 the divine origin of chriftianity is ap- 
 plicable to its precepts alone. If the 
 facts are fabulous, the precepts may 
 be excellent, but they cannot come 
 recommended by a fupernatural com- 
 miffion. 
 
 When you fay, that, " if the (lory 
 " of Chrift's temptation, and feveral 
 <e other narrations of the New Tefta- 
 " ment were pious frauds, this would 
 c not affect the excellence of chrifti- 
 *' anity, nor the authority of its foun- 
 *' der * i" you fay the moft impru- 
 
 * P. 125. 
 
 dent
 
 dent thing imaginable: for, if one mi- 
 racle, pofitively related, be falfe, by 
 what criterion will you convince us, 
 that the others are true ? If the evan- 
 gelifts tell us ftories, when they fay, 
 that Chrift caft (or cured men of) 
 daemons, what fecurity have we for 
 their having fpoken the truth, when 
 they tell us, that he arofe from the 
 dead ? Now, if Chrift did not rife 
 from the dead, whatever the excel- 
 lence of his doctrine or precepts may 
 be) our faith is "Jain, (i. e. without a 
 foundation) St. Paul has declared 
 this in exprefs terms: he refts the 
 truth of chriftianity on this fingle fact. 
 But on your hypothefis (whofe 
 confequences certainly you did not 
 attend to) this fact might be falfe, and 
 yet chriftianity might be true ; I did 
 
 not
 
 ,not think that there was fucb great 
 faith as tkis in all England. 
 
 Your anfwer, Sir, to the fifth ob- 
 jection is ft ill more reprehenfible, than 
 the conceffions you make in your re- 
 ply to the fecond ; becaufe, as I have 
 faid above, and mean now to prove, 
 it ftrikes at the foundation of all evi- 
 dence whatever. This objection againft 
 the divine authority of the gofpel is, 
 as you ftate it, founded upon * " the 
 ** incredibility of fome of its doc- 
 * trines, particularly thofe of the 
 " Trinity and atonement for fin by the 
 ** fuflferings of Chrift, the one contra- 
 *' dicing all the principles of human 
 *< reafon, and the other all our ideas of 
 & Divine juftice." If one of thefe 
 
 doctrines
 
 doctrines centradi&s all the principle* 
 of human reafon, and che other, all our 
 ideas of divine juftice, it is as impofli- 
 ble for us to believe them, in our 
 character of reafonable beings, as it is 
 to believe, that twice two makes five, 
 or that an action may be juft and un- 
 juft at the fame time and in the fame 
 circumftances j for every propofition, 
 that evidently contraditts the principles 
 of reafon, is equivalent to the two now- 
 mentioned. You don't feem, Sir, to 
 have apprehended this, when you ex- 
 prefs yourfelf in the following man- 
 ner : " That three beings mould be 
 *' one is a propofition which certainly 
 " contradicts reafon, that is, our rea- 
 " fon ; but it does not from thence 
 ** follow, that it cannot be true V* 
 
 * P. i 60. 
 
 NQ,
 
 No, really? How in the name of won- 
 der can it be poffibly true, that three 
 beings may be one being, if the term 
 being 'bears the fame fenfe in the fub- 
 je5l and attribute of this propofition ? 
 Three beings can never be one being, 
 but on the'fuppofition that one fignifies 
 three, if the term being keeps its 
 meaning : and, if you fhift the mean- 
 ing of the term, you only quibble, and 
 make merry with your readers. If 
 the propofition, in queflion, be true 
 to any intelligence in the univerfe, 
 without changing the ideas attached 
 to the terms, a thing may be and 
 KOI be at the fame time, and thus that 
 great and fundamental axiom, that is 
 the root of all truth and all evidence, 
 is plucked up at once, to the great 
 confolation of the fceptical tribe, and 
 
 the
 
 [ *53 J- 
 
 the eternal confufion of all ideas and all 
 knowledge. If you had been con- 
 tented with faying, that a propofitio 
 may furpafs the comprehenfion of our 
 reafoning or judging faculties, and yes 
 be true, you would have faid what 
 every one mufl allow. In fuch a cafe> 
 the terms of the propofition convey to 
 us no ideas, or confufed ideas, be- 
 caufe the clear ideas, that might be an- 
 nexed to them by fuperior beings, are 
 not commenfurate to cur faculties of 
 perception ; and, as we are thus inca>- 
 pable of underftanding the terms' of 
 the propofition, we cannot judge of 
 their connexion or difagreement as 
 fitbjefl and attri&ute.-'-'But when it is 
 affirmed, that a propofition contraditts 
 reafon, or (if you pleafe) our reafon y 
 it is fuppofed evidently, that the terms 
 
 o
 
 r *54 i 
 
 of the proportion are underftood, th$ 
 ideas they convey perceived, other- 
 \vife we could not decide, whether 
 they contradicted our reafon or not. 
 Now, in fuch a cafe, thefe terms cannot 
 contradict our reafon, but by contra- 
 dicting each other and, when this 
 happens, the proportion is falfe in the 
 nature of things. It is not, Sir, for 
 your fatisfaclion, but for that of fuch 
 grown gentlemen and ladies as may 
 look into thefe letters, without any 
 previous knowledge of logical difcuf- 
 fions, that I fhall illuftrate this reafon- 
 ing by a familiar example. Suppofe 
 a man mould utter this fentence, a 
 SQUARE /#rtf is a CIRCLE : this pro- 
 pofition does not furpafs my reafon, 
 but contradicts it ; that is, the idea 
 of a Jquare deftroys the idea of a 
 tir cle y and, on the other hand, the 
 
 idea
 
 r r 55 i 
 
 idea of a circle deftroys that ofafquare, 
 and therefore the propofition, being 
 affirmative, is falfe in the nature of 
 things, or, in other words, by the 
 clear perception I have of the un- 
 changeable nature and properties of 
 thefe two figures. And, indeed, Sir, 
 when we fay, that a propofition con- 
 tradicts reafon, we neither mean by 
 this term cur reafon, nor the reafon of 
 any other being, but the nature of 
 things. It is in this fenfe that reafon 
 is always taken in fuch propofitions ; 
 and in this fenfe of the term there is> 
 but ONE reafon in the univerfe, as- 
 there is but ONE truth, ONE jujlice^ 
 ONE moral goodnefs, and fo on. 
 
 What I have faid here, concerning: 
 the contradictory terms of one propo- 
 fuion, is equally true,, with refpect to* 
 
 two*
 
 two contradictory propofitions, of 
 which by the unchangeable rules of 
 right reafoning one always muft be true 
 and the other falfe. This confideration 
 will ever prevent rational divines (a 
 clafs of men whom the deifts treat often 
 rudely for reafons eafily to be guefied) 
 from defending the doctrine of the 
 holy Trinity upon this erroneous prin- 
 ciple, li that what is contradictory to our 
 *' reafon may be true neverthelefs." 
 The fcripture no-where fays,- that 
 there are three Gods ; if it did, there 
 would be a palpable contradiction in 
 thefe divine oracles, which fo often 
 declare that there is but one. It is in 
 conformity, therefore, with this un- 
 changeable principle, even unity of 
 eflence in the Deity, that we muft 
 underftand all the paflages, where the 
 
 term
 
 [ 257 ] 
 
 term God is attributed exprefsly or 
 virtually to the Son and to the Holy 
 Ghoft. But chiefly it will ever be the 
 care of modeft wifdom to avoid all 
 explication of a doctrine fo profound, 
 and whofe terms convey ideas entirely 
 beyond our conception. It is only, 
 then, that this dodrine contradicts 
 reafon, when it is prefumptuoufly ex- 
 plained, as if the terms and ideas, it 
 comprehends, were commenfurate to 
 our capacity. When the interpreters 
 of fcripture have faid, that there mud 
 be a certain union between Father, Son, 
 and Holy Ghoft, which lays a foun- 
 dation for afcribing to the two latter 
 the names, titles, attributes, and 
 works, which are elfewhere appropri- 
 ated to the one only true God, they 
 have faid all that can be offered upon 
 S the
 
 t 358 ] 
 
 the fubject, and all farther difqtiifiti- 
 ons, whether metaphyfical or phU 
 lological, relating to it, muft always 
 end in froth. Such refearches are no 
 more than lofs of time, which would 
 be better employed in the improve- 
 ment of ufeful knowledge, and the ad- 
 vancement of practical religion. The 
 belief of fuch an union between Fa- 
 ther, Son, and Holy Ghoft is not 
 contradictory to reafon, becaufe there 
 is no axiom or tenet in philofophy, no 
 doctrine of fcripture, which are in- 
 compatible with its exiftence. But 
 the belief of the manner of this union 
 or its nature is impoffible, becaufe we 
 have no terms that can exprefs it with 
 accuracy, nor has the fcripture given 
 us one fingle ray of light in this mat- 
 ter. Its author knew too well the li- 
 3 mics
 
 mits of human underftanding to fpeak 
 of founds to the deaf^ or of colours 
 to the blind. But certain doctors have 
 audacioufly attempted to explain 
 what the infpired writers confidered 
 as beyond the extent of their com- 
 mifiion, and you feem to know, Sir, 
 very well, what the caufe and fpirit of 
 religion have fuffered by the contro- 
 verfies which their fpeculations have 
 excited in the chriftian world. 
 
 Accordingly you diftinguifli wifely, 
 with refpect to a Trinity in the divine 
 nature, between the faft and the man- 
 ner. Yet, I rather wilh, Sir, you had 
 not faid, that " the union of three 
 " beings in the divine eflence is a 
 " propofition as plain, as that three 
 " equilateral LINES compofe one trian- 
 S 2 "le*-".
 
 [ 260 ] 
 
 " gle * ;" for here you begin to ex- 
 plain ; fmce, however you had a 
 mind to explain, you fhould rather 
 have fa id, that, THREE equilateral tri- 
 angles (and not lines}, compofe ONE tri- 
 angle i as nothing lefs will fatisfy thofe 
 who take their explications of this 
 doctrine from* a certain oracle. It is 
 true, that, by this,- you would have 
 illuftrated the myftery in queftion, by 
 a contradiction in terms j but there 
 are many good people, who would 
 have taken lefs offence at this, than 
 they mud necefiarily do, when they 
 fee you falling perpendicularly into 
 fomething like, or rather worfe than 
 Sabellianifm. Here, indeed, you fall,, 
 when you explain the facred tri-union- 
 
 P. 167, 1 6.8. 
 
 by 

 
 by the fimilitude of three equilateral 
 (I fuppofe you mean equal} lines com- 
 pofing one triangle, for here each line 
 is not a triangle, neither has it any 
 of the properties of a triangle ; where- 
 as, in the Trinity, each perfon has 
 the properties of Deity. You fpeak, 
 Sir, more modeftly, and, I will ven- 
 ture to fay, more philofophically on 
 this ftupendousfubject, when you fay ^ 
 *' that we cannot comprehend how 
 " far diftinct beings, whofe mode of 
 *' exiftence bears no relation to time 
 " or fpace, may be united, and there- 
 " fore we cannot deny fuch union, 
 ct though it muft appear extremely 
 * e embarraffing to thofe, who imagine, 
 " that all beings muft exift in time 
 " and fpace, as we do." This is true 
 with refpeft to the do&rine of the 
 S 3 Trinity,
 
 [ 262 ] 
 
 Trinity, and it (hews, that we fhould 
 not enter into any refearches concern- 
 ing the ineffable union : but it does 
 not fhew that fuch an union contradifls 
 reafon, nor that a propofition, which 
 contradicts reafon, may be true. 
 
 Neverthelefs, you alledge examples 
 to prove this paradox ; and thefe I am 
 almoft tempted to pafs over in filence, 
 fmce it muft have furely been in an 
 unguarded moment of lively fancy, 
 that you made ufe of the three follow- 
 ing, the being of a God over -ruling 
 grace and free-will certain fore-know- 
 ledge of future event S) and the uncertain 
 contingency of tbefe events : thefe, fay 
 you, are to our apprehenfions abfolute 
 contradictions t and " yet the truth of 
 " every one of them is demonftrable 
 " from fcripture, reafon, and experi- 
 
 " ence.'^
 
 -" ence." It is paffing ftrange, that a 
 propofition, which is an abfolute contra- 
 dittion to our apprehenfions, mould be 
 at the fame time demonftrable by our 
 reafon , though it may happen, in- 
 
 .deed, that a propofition may be de- 
 monftrated to contain a faft, the man- 
 ner of whofe exiftence is (not contra- 
 dictory, but) incomprehenfible ; for I 
 repeat it again, of all contradictory 
 ideas and propofitions, the one is true, 
 and the other muft be falfe, or, in 
 other words, a contradiction in terms 
 is a non-entity. 
 
 Your manner of proving, that the 
 being of a God contradicts our reafon 
 is totally inconclufive : " that any 
 " thing, fay you, mould exift without 
 " a caufe, or that any thing 
 " mould be the caufe of its own exV 
 S 4 " iftence,
 
 " iftence, are proportions equally 
 " contradictory to our reafon, yet 
 " one of them muft be true or nothing 
 " could have ever exifted." If, in the 
 firft of thefe propofitions, by the thing, 
 you mean an effefr, (or created being) 
 which is properly correlative to the 
 word caufe, the propofition, indeed, 
 implies a contradiction, but it has no 
 relation to the exiftence of God, who 
 is neither an effeft nor a created being ; 
 and, if in the place of the word thing, 
 you put the word being, the contra- 
 diction vanimes, however the fact may 
 furpafs our comprehenfion. That a 
 being fhould exift without a caufe, is 
 fo far from implying a contradiction, 
 that it is rather a manifeft contradic- 
 tion to our reafon, that fuch an un- 
 caufed being mould not exift, For, 
 
 fince
 
 fince no thing (or, in other words, no 
 effect or finite being) can exift with- 
 out a caufe ; and, fince the whole uni- 
 verfe is compofed of effects or finite 
 beings, there muft of necefiity exift a 
 being, on whom the whole depends : 
 and, if alt depends on him, he, him- 
 fclf, muft be independent, and confe- 
 quently uncaufed. 
 
 As to over-ruling grace and free-will* 
 however impofiible it may be for us 
 to find out the link that unites the ac- 
 tion of the one with the exiftence of 
 the other, there is one confideration 
 that difpels all appearance of contra- 
 diction between them ; and that is, 
 that divine grace ever acts by a rati- 
 onal influence, by rational motives, 
 and is ever attended by a fpontaneous 
 concurrence and voluntary determi- 
 nation,
 
 [ 466 J 
 
 nation, in which the very eflence of 
 liberty confifts. With refpect to the 
 contradiction between fore-knowledge 
 of future events, and what you (very 
 improperly) call the uncertain contin- 
 gency of thefe events, I fhall only 
 obferve, that contingency is not op- 
 pofed to certainty, but to fatal, phyfi- 
 cal, and unchangeable neceffity: hence 
 it follows, that events may be certain 
 as to their arrival, though contingent 
 in their nature : and certainty is a fuf- 
 cient foundation for fore- knowledge- 
 This diftinftion does not, indeed, ei- 
 ther remove or even much dirninifh 
 the obfcurity of the fubjecl -, yet, if -I 
 am not miftaken, it renders the con- 
 tradiction, you fpeak of, rather appa- 
 rent than real. I know there are phi- 
 aofophers, and even divines, whofe 
 
 hypo-
 
 hypotheHs tends to deprive you of 
 this example, by denying the fore- 
 knowledge of free actions and future 
 contingencies. They maintain, that 
 it is no more a defect in prefcience not 
 toforefee future contingencies, than it 
 is a, defect in omnipotence not to be 
 able to do what is impofllble , they 
 embrace your opinion with refpect to 
 the contradiction , but they draw from 
 it a conclufion different from yours, 
 and, be it faid without offence, a 
 more cqnfiftent one. But, for my part, 
 I cannot admit the principle. In the 
 prefcience of future contingencies, I v 
 fee a Gordian kn-.t y rather than a con- 
 tradiction ; and, inftead of cutting it 
 with temerity, like the philofophers 
 now mentioned, I (hall wait with pa- 
 tience, until it mail pleafe the divine 
 
 wifdom
 
 [ 26 ] 
 
 aifdom to untie it in his own good 
 time. 
 
 As to the doctrine of Chrift's fuffer- 
 ing for fin, (which is the fecond thing 
 mentioned in the objection now before 
 us) the dcift affirms, that it contraditts 
 all our ideas of divine juftice, and this 
 you acknowledge and deny alternately 
 more than -once, in the compafs of a 
 few pages. " Reafon, fay you *, in- 
 " forms us that the punifhment of 
 " the innocent, inftead of the guilty, 
 * l is diametrically oppofite to juftice, 
 " rectitude, and all pretenfions to uti- 
 ** lity -f." And yet you tdl us in the 
 following fentenc^, " that the fhort 
 
 * P. 162. 
 
 f This proposition is only true, when the in- 
 nocent is obliged by force, and againjl bis will, 
 *D undergo external puniihment for the guilty. 
 
 " line
 
 '[ ^9 I 
 
 c< line of reafon cannot reach to the 
 " bottom of this queftion," and a 
 little farther on, that " a tax, ifvo- 
 " luntarily offered, may be jujlly ac- 
 " cepted * from the innocent inftead 
 " of the guilty, for any thing that 
 < reafon can decide to the contrary-]- !" 
 again, youalledge in favour of Chrift's 
 mediation, " that all nations civilifed 
 " and barbarous, however differ- 
 ** ing in their religious opinions, 
 " agreed in the expediency of ap- 
 e< peafing the Deity by vicarious fuf* 
 "ferings'fc:" you add, indeed, that 
 ' this notion could never have been 
 ' derived from reafon, becaufe it con- 
 cc tradifts it il >" and yet you had faid 
 a moment before, that our ignorance 
 
 * P. 163. t P. 164, t P. 165. I) P. 1 6.1. 
 
 of
 
 [ 270 ] 
 
 of circumftances is fuch, that " reafon 
 " cannot enable us to aflert that this 
 " meafure, (i. e. 'vicarious fufferings) 
 " is contrary to juftice, or void of 
 " utility V You fay again, in an- 
 fwer to your deift, that " the notion 
 " of vicarious fuffer'mgs muft either be 
 " derived from natural inflintt or from 
 " fupernatural revelation^" But to 
 derive it from the latrer is to fuppofe 
 what is in difpute, by attributing to 
 revelation the very thing which the 
 deift employs as an argument againft 
 revelation : and if you fay, that it 
 comes from natural inftindl, it is fin- 
 gular, that this inftinft, which you 
 call the operation of divine power, 
 fhould dictate what reafon, the gift of 
 
 * P. 164. f P. i 56. 
 
 God,-
 
 God, difevows *. What confufion and 
 inconfiftency in this whole difquifi- 
 tion ! 
 
 Inftead of granting to the objector, 
 that the vicarious fufferings of Chrift 
 contradift all our ideas of divine juf- 
 tice, you might have fhewn him, Sir, 
 (as the excellent Bifhop Butler f has 
 done, with an uncommon ftrength of 
 reafoning and a truly philofophical fpi- 
 rit) that thefe furFerings are analogous 
 to the daily courfe of divine providence 
 
 * Befuks, by allowing that the notion of vi- 
 carious fufferings may have come from natural 
 inJHnfl, Mr. Jenyns invalidates his fecond pro- 
 pofition, that the dottrines of chrijlianity (among 
 'which he gives a dilHnguifhed rank to that of 
 vicarious atonement) are totally unlike every thing 
 "jatncb bad ever before entered into the mind of man* 
 
 f See his Analog}, &c. part II. ch. v, 
 
 in
 
 [ 2 7 2 ] 
 
 in the government of the world, in 
 which the innocent are appointed to 
 fuffer, in a thoufand cafes, for the 
 faults of the guilty *. Why this ap- 
 pointment has taken place, we cannot 
 yet fee///y; though a clofe obferver 
 of men and things will perceive many 
 advantages arifingfrom it in the courfe 
 of providence. In the difpenfation of 
 grace, befides its tendency to vindi- 
 cate the authority of the divine go- 
 vernment, and deter God's creatures 
 from fin, it may be founded on many 
 other reafons, and attended with far- 
 
 * The objection, had it any force, would be 
 ftrcngcr, in one refpeft, againft natural provi- 
 dence, than againil the cbrijlian difpenfation : be- 
 caufe, under the former, we are, in many cafes, 
 necefiitated, whether we will or no, to fuffer for 
 the faults of others, %vhereas the fufferings of 
 Chrift were voluntary. Id, ilid. 
 
 ther
 
 E 
 
 ther efficacy, at prefent unknown to 
 us, and which will appear in the pro* 
 per time. But, to vindicate the diving 
 rectitude and juftice both in the courfe 
 of providence, and in the difpenfation 
 ef grace, it is fufficient to obferve, 
 that, finally and upon the whole, 
 every one fhall receive according to bis 
 perfonal character and conduct. The 
 general doctrine of fcripture declares, 
 that this/**/ and juftly proportioned 
 diftribution ihall be the completion of 
 God's government; but, during the 
 progrefs of this government in nature 
 and grace, and in order to the com- 
 pletion of the whole fcheme, vica- 
 rious fuferings may be fit and necefiary, 
 and this is enough to filence your ob- 
 jector. 
 
 We fee but in part, here below, both 
 
 in the government of nature, and in 
 
 T the
 
 [ 74 1 
 
 the difpenfation of grace. Chriftianityj 
 more efpecially, is a fcbeme of divine 
 wifdom, that relates to eternity, and 
 points thither for its completion. It 
 is therefore only in a future fcene 
 that we can hope to fee clearly the na- 
 ture of each part and the harmony of 
 the whole. What is plain, comfort- 
 able, and practical in this divine fyf- 
 tem is defigned to occupy us bere ; 
 what is myfterious, at prefent, will 
 nobly exercife our enlarged faculties 
 and powers hereafter. 
 
 
 
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