* '^->%- 
 
 /. .'v
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD
 
 ESSAYS 
 
 UPON' 
 
 Several SUBJECTS. 
 
 B Y 
 
 Sir RICHARD 
 and Fellow of the College of Phyficians 
 in London. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for E. C u R LL at the Dial and Bible, 
 and J. P E M B E R T o N at the Buck and Sun, 
 both againft St. Dunftans Church in Fleet- 
 ftreet. M.DCCXVL
 
 
 
 -. Vi O '' \\ ) 1
 
 THE 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 N Ejty is an inftvuctive 
 Writing, cither in Profe 
 or Verfe, diftinguifh'd 
 from compleat Treatifes 
 and voluminous Works, by its (horter 
 Extent and lefs accurate Method. 
 It is natural for Men to defire the 
 Acquilition of Knowledge by the 
 molt eaiy and expeditious Ways, and 
 therefore few Perfons have been ib 
 patient of Labour afid Application, 
 as to be delighted with prolix Com- 
 petitions, in which, the main De- 
 A a fign
 
 iv The PREFACE. 
 
 fign of the Author being long fuf> 
 pended, the Difcourie grows -lb te- 
 dious to many, that they imagine 
 it will never be finifh'd. But the 
 Difrelifh of fuch diffufive Pieces in 
 thefe Times is more univerfal, and 
 carry 'd fo far, that great Books are 
 look'd on as oppreffive, and by their 
 Bulk, concluded to be dull and Ipi- 
 ritfefs ; while thofe in which the 
 principal End, as well as the Senti- 
 ments of the Author, are contracted 
 into a narrower Compafs, if well 
 writ, meet with general Approba- 
 tion. And if it happens that a large 
 Volume is w r ell received in the pre- 
 fent Age, it muft be adorn'd with 
 Variety of Matter, as well as pure 
 Dition, and wrought up to a great 
 Degree of Perfection, otherwife the 
 Reader is difcourag'd, and throws it 
 by as too painful a Task to be un- 
 dertaken. 
 
 WHE-
 
 The PREFACE. v 
 
 WHETHER this Delicacy pro- 
 ceeds from a more rehn'd and ele- 
 gant Tafte, or an indolent and un- 
 active Temper of Mind, I ihall not 
 here examine ; but in Fa6t, the Ob- 
 fervation is fo juft, that not only long 
 and methodical Syftems of Divinity, 
 Natural Philofophy, Morals and 
 Medicine are grown difagreeable, 
 but likewile voluminous Romances, 
 the Delight of the paft Age, are no 
 longer demanded, but lie by as neg- 
 lefted Lumber in the Shops, while 
 fhort Novels and Tales are become 
 the common Entertainment of thole 
 who are pleas'd with Fictions of 
 that Nature. And fhould it be 
 granted, that this arifes from a great* 
 er and more univerlal Relifh of Po- 
 Jite Literature, I am afraid that the 
 principal Interefts of Learning, and 
 the Advancement of folid Know- 
 will iuffer by it. There is 
 A that
 
 vi The PR E FUe-E> 
 
 that Connexion, Dependence., and 
 beautitiilJ iMter of the Parts in a 
 perfect Body of Science, that it is 
 mipoffiblef 'to contemplate the whole 
 Structure bivt in a lame and imper- 
 feel:" Vibw 1 , tvhen the Members of it 
 are fever d and diiiimted, as they are 
 in Tmall Diicouries, 'If the relation 
 of one Proportion to another, ancl 
 the- coherent Train of Conclutions 
 flre'totft difcern'd by the Mind, there 
 muft follow a great Confuiion and 
 Obicurity of Ideas ; and at beft thofe 
 Men, for want of full and compre- 
 Iieniive Conceptions of Things, will 
 only perceive Ibme foatter'd Branches 
 of Truth, and form but 3 dim and 
 defedtive Sketch of any Art or Sy< 
 ftem of Knowledge. 
 
 . > lij (!~JV2 iii f * ; /ffjU ^fQfj 
 
 S H-O-U-L-D a barbarous Indian^who 
 had eever ieen a Palace or a Ship, 
 view their feparate and disjoii*ci 
 
 r^- drawn by the Pen or Pencil, 
 
 and
 
 The PREFACE, vii 
 
 and obferve the Pillars, Doors, Cor- 
 nifhes, and Turrets of one, and the 
 Prow, Stern, Ribs, and Mafts of the 
 other, he would be able to form but 
 a very lame and dark Idea of either 
 of thofe Inventions. In like man~ 
 ner thofe, who contemplate only the 
 Fragments or Pieces broken off 
 from any Science, difpers'd in fhort 
 unconnected Difcourfes, and do not 
 difcerri their relation to each other, 
 and how they may be adapted, and 
 by their Union procure the delight^ 
 ful Symetry of a regular Scheme, 
 can never furvey an entire Body of 
 Truth, but muft view it as deform'd 
 and difmember'd ; while their Ideas, 
 which muft be always indiftindt and 
 often repugnant, will lie in the Brain 
 unforted, and thrown together with- 
 out Order and Coherence. But fince 
 the Tafte of the Times is fo nice 
 and delicate, and their Temper fo 
 impatient of long Application, thofe 
 A 4 who
 
 viii The P R E F A c E. 
 
 who would convey Inftruftion to 
 their Minds, muft accommodate their 
 Writings to this prevailing Inclina- 
 tion, muft poflefs themfelves of thofe 
 Avenues that lie open and lead with 
 eafe to their Underftanding, an4 
 change their Method of Addreis when 
 it grog's difagreeable, for another 
 that meets with a better Reception, 
 He muft be a very morofe Phyfician, 
 that when the Form of his Medi- 
 cines begins to grow ungrateful and 
 naufeous, will not alter it, or direct 
 a new Vehicle, by which they may 
 be taken down with lefs Reludtapce, 
 
 AND fince Difcouries contracted 
 into a narrow room, if they are 
 wrote with Strength and Perfpicuity, 
 and contain Variety of good Senfe, 
 are more acceptable to Readers, by 
 not putting them to too much La^ 
 bour and Attention ; it muft for that 
 Reaibn be acknowledg'd, that their
 
 The PREFACE. ix 
 
 ufefulnefs is more diffufive than that 
 of long and elaborate Volumes ; and 
 tho they do not exhibit Truth in 
 fiich a clear and perfect Scheme, nor 
 fet it in ib full a Light, as it appears 
 in a large and methodical Syftem, 
 they are, however, very beneficial, 
 and promote the. Interefts of Lite-> 
 rature and Vertue. And fince, as I 
 have faid, moft Men take greater 
 delight in this manner of Writing 
 than in prolix and unweildy Pro- 
 duftions, whofe enormous Size puts 
 them in a Fright, to gratify the 
 general Tafte, as well as to avoid all 
 Affeftation of the Air of the Schools, 
 and Oftentation of Learning, many 
 Gentlemen have apply 'd themfelves 
 to write in a more concife and ele- 
 gant, tho a lefs inftruftive and fcho- 
 laftick manner, 
 
 THE moft celebrated Engli/h Au- 
 thors of Eflays are, the Lord Veru* 
 
 lam
 
 \M " 4 
 
 Xii The P R E FA c . 
 
 lam arid Sir William Temple ; and 
 tho Mr, Locke has given that Appel- 
 lation fci his Book cm Human Under- 
 ftmdiw^ yet that Title feems to be 
 prefixed from a real or an affected 
 Modefty ; for by its Extent, as well 
 tts accuracy and methodical Compe- 
 ting it riiiiy; juftly be reckon'd among 
 large and compleat Treatifes. 
 
 *t^j*^*j^ Oyi J-* j ^ 0> v i -)ii*ft*{ ( 'j 
 
 MEN by Writing in this clofe 
 and ftioit way, prevent their being 
 tedious. 'to the Reader, who defires 
 often to take Breath, and to be re- 
 liev*d from Satiety by frequent Reft? : 
 'And as they find, that not being fet- 
 ter'd by Terms of Art and the Me- 
 thod imd Rules of School-men, they 
 are" at liberty to write in a more po- 
 lite and ornamental Stile, ib they 
 are able to infuie into a contracted 
 Work, more Life a ad Energy, while, 
 lik^ t{ia ; Chymiii:, by evaporating 
 the ilip&rnuoii^ and inlipid Phlegm, 
 
 they
 
 The PREFACE. xi 
 
 they can draw into a little Room 
 the pure and active Spirit. 
 
 BELIEVING that I am oblig'd to 
 employ my Talents, fuch as they are, 
 for publick Good, I have, in con- 
 formity to the prevailing Difpofition 
 of the People, exprefs'd my Senti- 
 ments on the feveral Subjects of the 
 following Differtations in a lefs ex- 
 tenfive manner, than otherwife I 
 ihould have done ; in which I have 
 impartially purfu'd the Intereits of 
 Truth and Vertue., without a De^ 
 fign of pleafing or provoking Any, 
 
 SOME Gentlemen have obje&ed 
 to my former Writings, and they 
 will have no lefs reafon to objedt 
 againft a great Part of thefe, that 
 they contain too great a Mixture of 
 Religion, without which predomi- 
 nant and difagreeable Ingredient, in 
 their Judgment,- my Performances 
 
 would
 
 xii The PR E FACE. 
 
 would have met with a more uni- 
 verfal Approbation; while others 
 cenfure them not fo much for intro- 
 ducing Divine Subjects, but for treat- 
 ing them in tooTechnical a way, that 
 is, by coming too near the Manner 
 proper to the Gown, and the Air of 
 the Pulpit. To the firft I make this 
 Reply, That the Books which gave 
 Oflence to fome, by having too high 
 a Seafoning of Religion in general, 
 and too ftrong a Taite of Chriftian 
 Sentiments, were the Epick Poems 
 which I have given to the Publiek, 
 
 BUT if Gentlemen would reflect 
 and enter into the Nature of an E- 
 pick Poem, they would foon be con- 
 vinc'd that Pious and Divine Sub- 
 je&s are eflential and neceffary to 
 this lublime Species of Poetry, which 
 was invented and conftituted for the 
 Praite and Honour of the Gods and 
 God-like Men, to celebrate the ad< 
 
 mirable
 
 The PREFACE, xiii 
 
 mirable Works and Perfections of the 
 one, and the great Atchievements 
 and beneficial Inventions of the o- 
 ther. Homers Iliad and Ulyffes are 
 at leaft as full of the Heathen, as 
 my Poems are of the Chriftian Theo- 
 logy ; yet I never heard he was cen- 
 iur'd for introducing Divine Subjects 
 and Adtors; tho for tranfgrefling the 
 Bounds of Decency and Probability 
 in the Conduct of his Machines, he 
 has been condemn'd. 
 
 THE eflential Character of 
 
 Hero, is Piety; and left you 
 fhould not difcover it by his A6ti- 
 ons, he frequently tells you fo him- 
 felf, Sum Pms JEneas, I am piow 
 sEneas. If then the principal Qua- 
 lity of the Hero may be Piety, the 
 Poet will be oblig'd through his 
 whole Work, to exhibit him to the 
 Reader under that Idea ; which can- 
 not be done, but by introducing him 
 
 always
 
 The PREFACE. 
 
 always fpeaking and afting in fuch 
 a divine Manner., as keeps up the 
 uniformity of the Character in which 
 he firft appear'd : And this 1/irgil 
 has for the moft part obferv'd, and 
 where at any Time he has neglect- 
 ed to do fo, he has tranigrefs'd an 
 indifpenfable Rule of Epick Poetry. 
 Now ihould any Poet in this Age, 
 in imitation of tfirgil, chufe to ce> 
 lebrate a Hero under the Idea of 
 Pious 5 muft he not reprefent him as 
 fuch ? and make his Poem all over Re- 
 ligious ? And if it fell out that this 
 Poet was a Chriitian, and wrote in 
 a Country where that Inftitution was 
 eftablilh'd, muft he not acquit him- 
 felf according to his own Scheme of 
 Theology, as the ancient Poets wrote 
 according uo theirs ? Homer and Vir~ 
 gil writ up to the full Meafure of 
 Divine Knowledge which they had 
 acquir'd ? and in conformity to the 
 Notions of Religion which then o\> 
 
 tain'd
 
 The P R E F A c F< xv 
 
 tain'd in the World ; and by a pa- 
 rity of Reaibn, a Chriftian Poet is 
 obligM to obferve the fame Rule- 
 But I (hall difmifs this Subject here, 
 and not anticipate the Poiitions I 
 have advanc'd in the following Ess AT 
 on EPICK POETRY. 
 
 I A M confcious that three forts 
 of Perfons have been difpleas'd with 
 my Writings upon the Account be- 
 fore-mention'd _; the Impious in Prin- 
 ciple, that denies the Divine Being ; 
 'the Unbeliever, who renounces the 
 Chriftian Inftitution; and the Li- 
 bertine, who profeffes his Belief of 
 that reveal'd Religion, but refufes 
 Obedience to its Precepts. 
 
 As to the firft, it is to me an un- 
 accountable Paradox why an Atheift, 
 to whom all Religions are alike, 
 fhould not be as well entertain'd with 
 the Beauties of a Poem contriv'd ac- 
 cording
 
 xvi The PREFACE. 
 
 cording to the Chriftian, as of dne 
 that is written upon the Plan of the 
 Heathen Theology. But the Infidel, 
 who difclaims the Belief of Divine 
 Revelation, while he aflerts the Exi* 
 ftence of a Deity, has, I acknow> 
 ledge, Reafon to diflike and decry 
 the Poems that are form'd upon the 
 Scheme of the Chriftian Inftitution; 
 for that being in his Judgment an 
 imaginary and groundlefs Syftem, he 
 looks upon himielf oblig'd to oppofe 
 it with his utmoft Efforts : And this, 
 perhaps, is the true Reafon, why 
 many Gentlemen cannot bear the 
 Introduction of Chriftian Machines 
 into Heroick Works, nor the Mix- 
 ture of that Religion in any o- 
 ther Species of Poetjry ; but infift 
 with great Vehemence, that let Poets 
 be ever fo much Chriftians in their 
 Opinion and traftice, they ought 
 however to be Pagans in their Wri- 
 tings; and not to take their Ma- 
 chine^
 
 PREFACE, xvii 
 
 chines, or borrow their Ornaments 
 from that Theology which they be- 
 lieve to be true, but from that which 
 they are fure is falfe ; becaufe in that, 
 fay they, a Poet may fhine, but muft 
 be very heavy in the other. Ad- 
 mirable Reafoning ! who can refift 
 the Force of fuch a clear and convin- 
 cing way of arguing ? 
 
 As to the third fort, it is at firft 
 View furprizing that any Man, who 
 owns the Truth of the Chriftian In^ 
 ftitution, (hould difrelifh any Perfor- 
 mance on this Account, that it is de- 
 lign'd to promote the Honour of that 
 Religion which he himfelf profefles; 
 but if we fearch the Matter deeper, 
 the reafon of this will appear very 
 evident; many, who acknowledge 
 the Divine Authority of Revelati- 
 on, have no Talte of the Vertues 
 enjoyn'd by it, but live in open De- 
 fiance and Contradiction to its Laws, 
 a that
 
 The P R E F A c E. 
 
 that is, they believe like Chriftians 
 but aft like Atheifts, they cannot 
 therefore read a Writing with fatis- 
 faftion, which caufes in their Minds 
 uneafy Reflections, and upbraids them 
 with the great diffimilitude and dif- 
 formity between their Profeflion and 
 their Actions; upon this account 
 they deride the Works of Gentlemen 
 which recommend Piety and Vertue, 
 as Cant andHypocrify, and give them 
 the Name of Preaching, which in their 
 Opinion is an ignominious Term, 
 and very unbecoming the Character 
 of a Chriftian Gentleman. 
 
 BUT I have another Reply to 
 the above-mention'd Objection, name- 
 ly, that I look upon it as an Ex^ 
 pence of Time, for which I ihould 
 not be able to account, if the Pro- 
 pagation of juft Notions of Reli- 
 gion, and a Conformity of Man- 
 ners to fucli Notions, were not the 
 
 prin-
 
 The PREFACE, xix 
 
 principal End that engag'd me in 
 Writing ; were I ever ib capable of 
 the Province, I fhould not efteem 
 it a valuable Confederation for my 
 Labour, only to entertain the Fan- 
 cies of Men with Wit, and make 
 them laugh with facetious Con- 
 ceits. To communicate to the Minds 
 of others noble and elevated Ideas, 
 to infpire them with pious Ardor 
 and Divine Paffions, and pufh them 
 on to a vigorous Reiblution of eiv 
 gaging and perfevering in a Series of 
 vertuous Actions, becoming the Dig^ 
 nity of their Nature and the Pre- 
 cepts of their Religion, is a praife- 
 worthy Province ; for this is to be 
 employ 'd about die moft excellent 
 Objedts for the Attainment of the 
 moft important Ends and I would 
 chufe radier in this Senie to be the 
 Author of Good., tho but to ten 
 Perfons, than by the happieft (trains 
 of Wit and the moft pleafant Humour 
 a a to
 
 xx The PREFACE. 
 
 to divert and recreate ten Thou- 
 land ; notwithftanding I were fure to 
 make many Enemies by the firft, and 
 by the laft to gain univerfal Ap- 
 plaufe. It was for this reaibn I 
 began to write, and ihall be well 
 pleas'd to die with my Pen in my 
 Hand, afferting the Honour of the 
 Divine Being and the Intereft of 
 Mankind, which I know I am do- 
 ing while I vindicate the Cauie of 
 Religion and Vertue. I have been 
 impell'd by a difinterefted and un~ 
 deiigning Principle to engage on 
 the Side I have taken, and if 1 
 had enteitain'd any indirect and 
 mean Views, I (hould have chofen 
 other ways to accompliih my End, 
 than by Writing on fuch Subjects 
 and in fuch a manner, that 1 was 
 well aflur'd \vould draw upon me 
 the Refentments of great Numbers 
 of no inconiiderable Figure. Thele 
 Gentlemen fhould, however, be in- 
 
 duc'd
 
 The PREFACE, xxi 
 
 duc'd to pardon a well-meant Zeal; 
 while to do them the higheft Ser- 
 vice, by letting their Judgments 
 right in a Matter of the greatert 
 Concern, I have adventur'd to in- 
 cur their Difpleafure, whofe Favour 
 and Countenance might have done 
 me Honour, protected my Reputa- 
 tion, and promoted my Intereft : It 
 is becaufe I as really with their Fe- 
 licity as 1 do my own> that I at- 
 tempt to cure their erroneous Prin- 
 ciples, which, if not redtify'd, muft 
 be attended with the moft fatal 
 Confequence. 
 
 BEING fully convinc'd that no 
 folid Satisfaction can be attain'd, 
 but that which arifes from a con- 
 iciouihefs of doing Good, and the 
 expectation of a Future Reward, 
 and (it is with great Satisfacti- 
 on that 1 certainly forefee that all 
 Men living, whatever they think 
 a 3 now,
 
 The PREFACE. 
 
 now, will in a fhort Time be of the 
 fame Opinion) I fhall ftill employ 
 what Capacities I have, and for 
 which I am accomptable, in purfuit 
 of the fame Ends to which i have 
 all along directed my Aim ; and if 
 for adhering ftedfaft to the Divine 
 Cauie of Religion I am vilify 'd by 
 Gentlemen of impious or unchri- 
 ftian Maxims, 1 am fo hard and im- 
 penitent that 1 (hall ftitl endeavour 
 to he viler, being ambitious to me- 
 rit their Ditpleafure to a greater 
 Degree, and recommend my felf 
 yet more to their Contempt. 
 
 THE more I advance in Years, 
 and the nearer the Future State is 
 ^prefented to my View, the more I 
 am pleas'd with reflecting on what 
 I have written on Divine and Mo< 
 ral Subjects ; and whatever Appel- 
 ktion of Reproach Men of plea- 
 iantry Humour think fit to give 
 
 to
 
 The PR E F A c E. xxiii 
 
 to this Difpofition of Mind, they 
 cannot enjoy fo great Satisfaction 
 in deriding it, as the Pofleffion of 
 it gives to me. ' Tho I defpair of 
 changing the Judgments of the de- 
 termin'd and inflexible Leaders of 
 Irnpiety, yet I am not without hopes 
 of being ufeful to younger Men, 
 who are only wavering aad unfet- 
 tied in their Opinions, or in whofe 
 Minds loofe and unchriftian Princi^ 
 pies are not deeply rooted, 
 
 THIS was always looked upon 
 as a good natur'd Nation, well dif- 
 pos'd to Religion and receptive of 
 vertuous Impreflions; and tho one 
 cannot without Aftonifhment fee 
 the wonderful Progrefs that Profane- 
 nefs and Immorality have made a- 
 mong us, yet I flatter my felf that 
 it is but an acute and temporary 
 Diftemper, being fo much ag^inft the 
 native Conftitution of the People, 
 a 4 that
 
 xxiv The P R E F A c E. 
 
 that I hope is ftill ftrong enough to 
 throw off by degrees this malig- 
 nant Ferment, which if it be un- 
 able to do., the Event muft be de- 
 plorable. We cannot but be fenfi- 
 ble how much we owe our prefent 
 Sufferings and Calamities to the 
 prevailing Power of Irreligion and 
 Vice, that have in fo terrible a de- 
 gree over-fpread a Kingdom once 
 renown'd for Piety and ibber Life ; 
 and if I am not miftaken, fhould 
 impious Maxims and their genu- 
 ine Fruit, diffolute Manners, which 
 Heaven avert, be carry 'd yet to a 
 greater Height, and fpread their 
 unreftrain'd Influence to a greater 
 extent, the Confequence, to our fad 
 Experience, will prove deftruftive. 
 But I fliall not enlarge on this Head, 
 intending to publifti a Difcourfe, 
 in which I (hall trace the Origin of 
 Atheifm, and deduce the Succeflion 
 of its Affertors and Patrons through 
 
 every
 
 Tie PREFACE, xxv 
 
 every Age to thefe Times. I ftiall 
 make it appear, that Impiety has a 
 direft tendency to lubvert the Foun- 
 dations of all human Societies, and 
 expofe the falfe Reafoning of Mr. 
 Boyle, who maintains the contrary 
 Opinion. 
 
 BESIDES, let Gentlemen of Ir- 
 religious Principles refleft on the 
 freedom which they themfelves ule : 
 Have they a Right to deride and 
 affront Religion? fo have I to de- 
 fend its Honour : Are they at liber- 
 ty to profelite Chriftians to Paga- 
 nifin ? fb am I to convert Pagans to 
 Chriftianity : In maintaining and 
 ipreading their Opinions have they 
 no unwarrantable Ends in view, no 
 Vanity, no irregular Paflions, no vo- 
 luptuous Appetites to gratify? I 
 am compell'd to boaft, no more have 
 I. Seeing then they believe they 
 are privileg'd to expofe Religion 
 
 and
 
 xxvi The PREFACE. 
 
 and Vertue among their Acquaint* 
 ance, for the Peace and Happinefs 
 of the Nation; for that, as they 
 pretend, is the Mark at which they 
 aim; why fliould I offend by affert- 
 ing religious Maxims and the Di- 
 vine Authority of the Chriftian In- 
 ftitution, the eftablifli'd Worfhip of 
 the Country where I live, which 
 1 look upon as fo conducive to the 
 Publick Good., that without their 
 Affiftance the ftrongeft Pillars of 
 Civil Communities muft be de- 
 
 ftroy'd. 
 
 *i.;jrl 04 iiuijii'iriv./ 3&p-; 
 
 I F it be laid that there is a vene- 
 rable Order of Men appropriated to 
 this facred Office, of inftrufling the 
 People in the Notions of Religion^ 
 and perfuading them to yield Obe- 
 dience to Moral and Chriftian Ob- 
 ligations ; and that therefore it is 
 owing to a prefumptuous Curiofity, 
 that 1 have taken a Fancy to trou- 
 ble
 
 The PREFACE, xxvii 
 
 ble my felf about Affairs of this 
 nature; I anfwer, that notwith- 
 ftanding there is fuch an eftablifh'd 
 Order feparated from fecular Em- 
 ployment to attend the Service of 
 the Altar, of whom many by their 
 excellent Labours and exemplary 
 Lives have propagated Religion, a- 
 dorn'd the Church, and been the 
 Authors of great Good to their Coun- 
 try ; yet that does not hinder but 
 others, who have competent Talents, 
 may employ them in their Station, 
 for the Inftruftion and Improvement 
 of Mankind in Piety and Moral 
 Goodnels. It is every Man's Duty 
 in his private Sphere, as wdl as the 
 Divine in his publick and more ex- 
 tenfive Capacity, to promote reli- 
 gious Knowledge and a Love of Ver* 
 tue; but let it be contkter'd, that 
 notwithstanding the venerable Clergy 
 are appropriated to this Province, 
 yet many eminent Perfons of that 
 
 Order
 
 xxviii The PREFACE. 
 
 Order have in all Times believ'd, 
 that without any facrilegious Violati- 
 on of their holy Function, they 
 might alienate a great part of their 
 Lives from the Service of the Church, 
 to which they are confecrated, while 
 they attended on fecular Affairs : 
 Many have held great Offices of 
 State, and many have been Publick 
 Minifters in foreign Countries, and 
 feveral have for many Years in o- 
 ther Employments difcontinu'd the 
 Duties of their facred Calling, and 
 have neverthelefs preferv'd, at lead 
 in their own Opinion, their indeli- 
 ble Charafter ; and not a few of the 
 Reverend Clergy give their Neigh- 
 bours Advice in Cafes of Phyfick 
 and Law, as well as in thofe of ton- 
 icience. Now if the Guides of the 
 Church condefcend to take fuch Care 
 of our Welfare in fecular Concerns, 
 why may not a Lay-man, in his 
 Turn, exprefs his Gratitude and 
 
 Good-
 
 The PREFACE, xxix 
 
 GoocUwill by ferving the Church in 
 Matters of Religion. Befides, it 
 fhould be confider'd, that a Gentle- 
 man has this one Advantage over 
 the Clergy, That when he writes 
 for the Inftruftion and Improve- 
 ment of the People in Religion 
 and Vertue, he is look'd upon as 
 undefigning and difinterefted ; and 
 it cannot be fufpefted that he writes 
 for a Party, or that he is Merce- 
 nary, and aims at Riches and Pro- 
 motion. 
 
 FOR my farther Vindication it 
 may be alledg'd, that in the Pa~ 
 gan World before the Chriftian 
 Revelation , Pythagoras^ Socrates, 
 Plato, Plutarch, Cicero^ and all the 
 eminent Writers on Divine and 
 Moral Subjeds were learned Men, 
 not confecrated to the Service of 
 the Temple ; and after the Chri- 
 ftian Worlhip was inftituted, many 
 
 Lay-
 
 The PREFACE* 
 
 Lay-Profeffors of it, in the Primi- 
 tive Times, as well as Multitudes 
 in the Modern, have, with great 
 Approbation and Applaufe, vindi^ 
 cated the Truth of their Religion, 
 and promoted the Interefts of Ver- 
 tue by their valuable Labours* 
 How many, befidesthe Clergy, htfve 
 given to the Publick Expoiitions oil 
 the Sacred Volumes, as well as 
 Moral and Divine Contemplati- 
 ons, which are receiv'd with great 
 Efteem ; nor did I ever hear, that 
 any Gentleman has been condemn'd 
 for Writing on fuch Subjects, how 
 many fo ever have been cenfur'd 
 for not Writing well. 
 
 As to the fecond Objection men- 
 tion'd at the beginning of this Dif- 
 courfe, That when I introduce Di- 
 vine Subjedis, I am too Technical, 
 and do not obferve the fafhionable 
 Stile of a Gentleman, but approach 
 
 too
 
 The PREFACE, xxxi 
 
 too near to the manner of the Gown ; 
 I muft own, that if fome of my for- 
 mer Writings have been obnoxious 
 to this Cenfure, 1 have reafon to 
 apprehend that many Places in the 
 following ESSAYS will lie more 
 expos'd to that critical Obferva- 
 tion, and therefore I fliall here 
 make the fame Apology for the 
 one and the other. It will appear 
 to the judicious Reader, that I 
 have not imitated the Method, nor 
 us'd the Phrafes appropriated to the 
 Difcourfes of the Reverend Clergy 
 and the Eloquence of the Pulpit, 
 but have vary'd the one, and ire* 
 quently caft the other into diffe- 
 rent Forms of Didion ; but if the 
 Objedors mean, that 1 am too 
 warm and appear too much in 
 earneft, that 1 affect the Lan- 
 guage of the Heart, and do 
 not ftrive to pleafe the Imagina- 
 tion with delicate Touches, fprite- 
 
 ful
 
 xxxii The PREFACE. 
 
 ful Turns of Expreflion, and new 
 Speculations which only hover in 
 the Brain, without finking deep 
 enough to difturb the Reader with 
 uneafy Reflections, excite Divine 
 Paflions, and produce generous Re- 
 folutions to engage in the Practice 
 of Vertue ; if, I fay, the Objedors 
 mean that this is the way of Wri- 
 ting becoming a Gentleman, I freely 
 acknowledge that I do not aim at 
 that Honour ; I am not ambiti- 
 ous of the Character of a Polite 
 but a ufeful Writer ; which I ima- 
 gine I cannot be, if under the 
 
 Confinements before- mentioned. 
 
 < 
 
 I HAVE heard a Clergy-man 
 cenfur'd for faying, that he look'd 
 upon it as a very uncivil Thing 
 for a Divine in the Pulpit to fcare 
 the Audience by mentioning Dam- 
 nation, Hell, and other luch Terms 
 of Horror. This fine Orator muft 
 
 furely
 
 The PREFACE* xxxiii 
 
 furely think that the rude and boi- 
 fterous way of Preaching, in which 
 the Words and Phrafes of the Sacred 
 Writings are employ 'd, ought to be 
 left off by polite and well-manner'd 
 Chriftiansj and that notwithftand- 
 ing the Apoftles, who were rough 
 and unrefin'd., and had little Tafte 
 of Elegance, good Breeding, and 
 ingenious Converiation, might be 
 allow'd fuch harfli and frightful Ex* 
 preffions, yet they would not be- 
 come a modern civiliz'd Pulpit* Ne- 
 verthelefs one would think, that 
 fince thefe Men acknowledge that 
 the Primitive Planters of Chriftia- 
 nity were directed by an infallible 
 Spirit, they fhould not be miftaken 
 in the Nature of Evangelical Elo- 
 quence, and the right Art of Per~ 
 fwafion, and therefore that it would 
 be a pardonable Condefcention in 
 fuch an accomplifrTd Preacher if he 
 thought fit to follow the Examples 
 b of
 
 xxxiv The PREFACE, 
 
 of Men under the Guidance of Di- 
 vine Inlpiration. 
 
 MANKIND by their inbred 
 Propenfions, ftrengthen'd and itn- 
 prov'd by a Series of evil Adtions, 
 are fo ftrongly prepoflefs'd in favour 
 of forbidden Enjoyments, and fo 
 much prejudiced againft the difagree- 
 able PradHce of Vertue, while the 
 Exercife of their Reafon is fufpend- 
 ed or corrupted, that the foft and 
 gentle Perfualions and well-bred Ad- 
 drefs of a meer elegant Writer will 
 make no more Impreflion on their 
 Minds, than the Defcent of a Fea- 
 ther upon the Ground, or a gentle 
 Breeze upon a Rock. If a Man 
 has a mind to combat Profanenefs 
 and Immorality, Enemies not eafy 
 to be vanquifh'd, he muft be fur- 
 nifh'd with Arms that will cut as 
 well as glitter ; and he might as 
 well enter the Lifts quite naked, as 
 
 pro-
 
 The PREFACE, 
 
 provided only with bright but edge- 
 Ids Weapons. 
 
 IT is certain, that thofe do en- 
 gage in a worthy and generous De- 
 lign, who endeavour to reclaim Per- 
 Ibns of diforderly and profligate Be- 
 haviour, and to make Vice appear 
 Ib dangerous and deteftable that it 
 may be abhor'd, and Vertue fo a* 
 miable, that it may exert its at- 
 traftive Force and invite Mankind 
 to the Practice of it : But then this 
 is a Province attended with fo many 
 and great Difficulties, that fetting 
 alide the indiipeniable Obligations 
 pf Reaibn and Chriftian Charity, it 
 would not be fo difcreet and pru> 
 dent, as it is Heroick and Honour-* 
 able to attempt it, while the Ap- 
 proaches to the Understandings of 
 Men are generally fo bar'd and guard- 
 ed againlt Initruftion,' that for the 
 moft part tliey are inacceffible. 
 
 b a Bur
 
 xxxvi The PREFACE. 
 
 BUT notwithstanding it is a me- 
 lancholy Truth, that the Depravity 
 of Human Nature is fo great that 
 it is a very difficult Task to under- 
 take the Cure, yet to give over Man- 
 kind as deplorable and uncapable of 
 Moral Improvements is to carry the 
 Matter too far: It is true, that 
 Princes have the moft effectual and 
 extenfive Power for this purpofe, 
 and the venerable Clergy, who are 
 abftrafted from the World, difen- 
 gag'd from fecular Employments, 
 and fet apart to rhis high Calling, 
 have, next to Princes, the greateft 
 Capacity and Advantages to fink 
 the Reputation of Vice, and pro- 
 pagate the Efteem and Love of 
 Vertue ; neverthelefs, private Per- 
 ibns may, in their circumlcrib'd Sta- 
 tion, be uieful in promoting Reli- 
 gion and Morality, tho not to fo 
 great a degree ; and if they may be
 
 The PREFACE, xxxvii 
 
 fo, who can excufe them if they 
 do not attempt it ? 
 
 As to the Means of procuring 
 this End I am of Opinion, that the 
 ingenious and polite Dilcourfes upon 
 Divine Subjects, in which the Au- 
 thors endeavour to difluade Men from 
 the Practice of Vice, by (hewing 
 the unreaibnablenefs of its Nature, 
 and reprefenting in a handlbme man- 
 ner, the Temporal Inconvenieacies 
 that attend it, as the lofs of Ho^ 
 nour, Health, and Riches, tho ever 
 ib elegant and entertaining, are not 
 fufficient to reform a loofe Age and 
 recover the Power and Reputation 
 of Divine Vertues. Degenerate Man 
 has fuch a native Indiipofition and 
 Reluctance to the Practice of Reli- 
 gion, that in this refpeft he is often 
 reprefented in iacred and profane 
 Writings under the figurative Idea 
 of a dead Perfon. Now is it in any 
 b 3 degree
 
 xxxviii The P R E.-F'A e & 
 
 degree probable, that fuch Men 
 ihould owe a new Life and moral 
 Refurreftion to Difcourfes on reli- 
 gious Subjects, which, tho correft 
 and polite,, are wrote in a cold di- 
 daftick and . | impaffionate manner, 
 and therefore never fhake the falie 
 Notions and Prepofleffions of the 
 Offender ; never awaken him with 
 the Prpfped: of his Danger, nor 
 work him up to a Reiblution of 
 parting with his forbidden Enjoy^ 
 ments. I acknowledge 1 cannot fee 
 any harm in theie Ditcourfes, where- 
 in the Writers, befides their beauti- 
 ful and ornamental Stile, have this 
 peculiar Character of the Gentle- 
 man, that they make no body un- 
 eafy, but with great Tendernefs 
 and Caution avoid all Sentiments 
 and harfh Expreffions, that are likely 
 to alarm and difturb the Criminal \ 
 nor can I difcern their ufefulqefs far- 
 ther, than: that they pleafe and en
 
 The PREFACE, xxxix 
 
 THE inveterate Difeafes of the 
 Mind are as hard to be remov'd as 
 thofe of the Body ; and therefore 
 their Cure requires as fharp and 
 painful Applications. Will a Man 
 in a profound Lethargy be awakenM 
 with Whiipers and foft Mu(ick ? that 
 can fleep in a Storm, and is un- 
 dilturb'd with Thunder? Will a 
 violent Fever yield to the Art of 
 the Confectioner, after the Skill of 
 the Phyfician is in vain exhaufted ? 
 Or muft a Surgeon who is employ 'd 
 to heal a mortifying Limb and (top 
 the fpreading Gangrene, be dif- 
 arm'd of his cutting Instruments and 
 corrofive Medicines, and be permit- 
 ed only to footh the Suffering Part 
 with fcented Waters and pleafant Bal- 
 fams ? Is it likely that an immo- 
 ral Perfon fhould become the Con- 
 vert of a genteel Satire or an elegant 
 Harangue, who is deaf and inexor- 
 b 4 able
 
 xl The PREFACE. 
 
 able to the Tears and Entreaties of 
 his Relations, and perieveres in his 
 expenlive Vices till he has finifh'd 
 the Ruin of his difconfolate Family?* 
 Is it credible, that a diffolute Youth 
 that has given the Reins to his inor- 
 dinate Appetites, and plung'd him- 
 felf in forbidden Pleafures, ihould be 
 reclaimed by the Power of a polite 
 offencelefs Performance, who is not 
 prevailed upon by the terrible Con- 
 iequences of his criminal Enjoy- 
 ments? Can the Stings of Satire, 
 and the Reproaches of a Man of 
 Wit, pierce deeper into his Heart, 
 than thofe of Remorie and confci- 
 ous Reflection, and the painful Senfe 
 of wafting Difeales, the fad Fruits 
 of his vicious Courles ? 
 
 To conclude this Head. I am 
 convinced that Dilcourfes on Divine 
 and Moral Subjeds^ let them be the 
 Productions of ever fo fine Imagi- 
 nation 
 v
 
 The PREFACE, xli 
 
 nation and admirable Genius, and 
 ever fo valuable for Purity of Words, 
 beautiful Expreflion, accurate Stile, 
 and worthy Sentiments, if the Au- 
 thor does not ftrive to penetrate the 
 Heart, and by the only prevalent 
 Arguments taken from the endlefs 
 Milery that attends the Practice of 
 Vice in a Future Life ; if he does 
 not grapple and contend with the 
 Criminal, and fet his Danger before 
 him in a ftrong Light, fo as to di- 
 fturb him in his prefumptuous Opini- 
 ons, wreft from him his falfe Hopes, 
 and fill his Mind with juft Fear of 
 Divine Punifhment, thofe Difcourfes, 
 I fay, muft be unavailing, being in- 
 competent and unequal to their End. 
 It is evident, that the Menaces of 
 Divine Difpleafure and unfpeakable 
 Sufferings in a Future State, tho they 
 prevail upon fome, yet are ineffectual 
 and unoperative upon the genera^ 
 lity of Mankind j and therefore all 
 
 other
 
 xlii The Pit FACE. 
 
 c#her Mafls whatever that are em- 
 ploy 'd td jterfuade Men to be Ver- 
 tooUs-, whMi are infinitely of lefs 
 force than thofej rfttift certainly be 
 fhiitlefs arid infignificant. 
 
 /r A if t> hre? I think it not impro- 
 jfer to^ -tfi&e Notice, that fince all 
 fijpream Magiftrates guard their 
 Ijixvs by the Sartftion of Punifli- 
 nfietit^ by which they aim to fecure 
 the Obedience of the Subject, and 
 m futh a proportion as they judge 
 lafficieht to attain their End, the 
 tXvifie Legiflator of the World, by 
 atinexiHg to his Laws eternal Suf- 
 fetfngs to deter Men from Diibbe- 
 cKece,- has hot exceeded a juft Med- 
 %e, fifiee-in Fa3 it fedly appears 
 ^at thdjEe Putlifliments are iniiiffi- 
 ofeht to prevail with the greateft 
 tot of Mankind to obey his Will \ 
 aftd therefoi*eit is tod evident that this 
 does not furpafs ^ 
 due
 
 Tfo PREFACE, xliii 
 
 due Proportion ; for whatever Means 
 are too weak to acquire their End, 
 cannot be faid to be immoderate and 
 
 exceflive. 
 
 As to the following 
 having prefixed a particular Preface 
 to that uponE^icK POETRY, I 
 (hall in this Place, only admoniih 
 the Reader, that having laid down 
 the Rules relating to a Writing of 
 that Kind, I forbore to add many- 
 Examples out of the celebrateej an* 
 cient and modern Poets, which might 
 have illuftrated and confirmed thofe 
 Precepts, left the ESSAY fhould 
 have fweli'd to a larger Extent than 
 I thought was proper to fuch aWri> 
 ting, and by being prolix and dif- 
 fus'd ihould have grown tedious, 
 and perhaps it is too much fo al- 
 ready. 
 
 NOT*
 
 xliv The PREFACE. 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING the un- 
 fuccefsful Efforts of Perfons of all 
 Denominations, to ftop the licenti- 
 ous Tide of Impiety and Vice might, 
 with Reafon, difcourage private Per- 
 fons from making any future At- 
 tempts, yet I am fo hardy as not ut- 
 terly to defpair of being beneficial 
 to the Nation by purfuing that De- 
 fign. I have therefore in my ESSAY 
 opon WIT, reviv'd my old Con- 
 troverfy with the Stage ; the Enter- 
 tainments of which, as they are ft ill 
 managed, are highly prejudicial to 
 the Interefts of Religion and Ver- 
 tue, as having an apparent tendency 
 to produce protane Principles anct 
 Corruption of Manners. My chief 
 Objection is againft the Comick 
 Poems, for the Tragick are become 
 for the moft Part, not only clean 
 and inoffenfive, but in fome Inftan- 
 ces inftruftive and ufeful, efpecially
 
 The PREFACE, xlv 
 
 Tamerlane, Goto, and the Lady Jane 
 Grey ; which betides their other great 
 Beauties, abound with excellent Mo- 
 ral and Divine Sentiments. I have 
 in the following ESSAY upon Wi T, 
 fhow'd how that Talent is abus'd 
 and .proftituted to unworthy Pur- 
 pofes in Dramatick Performances, 
 and what a pernicious Influence 
 it muft needs have while fo em* 
 ploy'd, on the Minds and Adtions of 
 Men. I know it is alledg'd in De- 
 fence of our Comedies, that they 
 'are proper to expofe the Fool, and 
 reform the Libertine, to recommend 
 Decency and Vertue, and put Fop- 
 pery and Immorality out of Coun- 
 tenance. But as to the Correction 
 of Vice and propagating Sobriety of 
 Manners, it is evident by long Ex- 
 perience, that it has not that Effed 
 in any degree, and indeed it is not 
 an adequate and competent Means 
 for that End. 
 
 IF
 
 xlvi The PREFACE. 
 
 IF general Difcouife, as I have 
 fliowft on the Beauty and Benefits of 
 Vertuje, and the Turpitude and In- 
 conveniences of Vice, that only float 
 on the Surface of the Brain and pleafe 
 &e Imagination, but do not warm 
 the Heart and excite generous and 
 PafjTions, let them be writ 
 ever fo much Elegance and 
 ^re insignificant, as being 
 uncapable to reclaim a diflblute Peo- 
 ple ; 04*1 it be thought that our 
 modern Comedies will be more 
 
 . i r - ' -* 
 
 I F th^ greateft Danger ima- 
 ginable fet before Men in the ful- 
 kit View, and the inpft pathe- 
 tick 9.nd importunate Manner will 
 not deter them tronj Vice, what 
 cgn we expeft that? Jt'ft and Ri' 
 dicuk fhpuld dp ? Thefe ^re 
 not a Match for the criminal In- 
 
 clinations
 
 The PREFACE, xlvii 
 
 clinations of Nature ripen'd into 
 Habits, and contirm'd by long 
 Cuftom. 
 
 TH o a well writ Comedy may 
 not only become an agreeable Di- 
 verfion, and in fome meafure be- 
 neficial, by corre6^ing the Indecen- 
 cies and expofing the Follies and 
 inferior Faults of Mankind; yet 
 the Comick Poet muft have a very 
 fanguine Complexion, that can hope 
 with fuch feeble and unequal 
 Weapons, to triumph over vice 
 and Immorality. To endeavour 
 to cure an Age over-fpread with 
 degenerate and licentious Manners 
 by fuch ways, is to exprefs great 
 Ignorance of Human Nature, and 
 the Power of inordinate Appetites. 
 One may as well charge a Gyant 
 with a Bull-rufh, or play upon a 
 Conflagration with a Syringe, as 
 attempt to make a wife and ver- 
 
 tuous
 
 xlviii The PREFACE. 
 
 tuous Nation with pleafant Hu- 
 mour and facetious Fancies. 
 
 I D o not believe that the moft 
 celebrated Comedies, how much 
 foever they have entertain'd the 
 Audience, have reduc'd any Li- 
 bertine, or improv'd any Coxcomb. 
 Let the famous Author of the Tat* 
 lers and Spectators declare his Ex- 
 perience, who, if Wit could have 
 made Men wifer, muft certainly 
 have fucceeded ; that Gentleman 
 fays, in one of his Difcourfes, I 
 have many Readers, but few Con~ 
 verts; I believe he might have laid 
 none : For it is my Opinion, that 
 all his fine Raillery and Satire, 
 tho admirable in their kind, ne- 
 ver reclaim'd one vicious Man, 
 or made one Fool depart from hi* 
 Folly. 
 
 As
 
 The PRE FACE, xlix 
 
 As tothe ESSAY upon FALSE 
 VE R T u E, when I reflect that loofe 
 Principles and diffolute Manners, 
 have fpread to Aftonifhment, their 
 malignant Contagion arriong the Peo> 
 pie, and have fo far prevail'd, that 
 in a great degree the effential Diffi* 
 militude of good and bad Aftions 
 is effaced in the Minds of Men, arid 
 Vertue and Vice begin to look kind 
 and friendly upon one another, as if 
 they had compromis'd their old Di- 
 fputes, and had brought their Con- 
 troverfy to an amicable Conclufionj 
 while the reputed Atheift and the 
 Chriftian, the Libertine and the fo* 
 ber Man, the diflblilte Woman and 
 one of unblemifh'd Reputation, {hall 
 carefs each other, freely converfe 
 together, mutually make and receive 
 Viiits with all the Marks of Re- 
 fpet and Friendship, and commu> 
 nicate with one another in the moft 
 c facred
 
 1 The PREFACE. 
 
 facred and awful Myfteries of our 
 Religion ; while I contemplated, I 
 lay, this amazing Degeneracy, 1 con- 
 cluded that Vice and Immorality 
 had loft their intrinfick Deformity, 
 and wip'd off their moral Turpi- 
 tude in the general Opinion of the 
 People; and therefore I cannot but 
 think, that it is a commendable Un- 
 dertaking to attempt the Correcti- 
 on of a Miftake of luch Confe- 
 quence. 
 
 MEN of irreligious Principles and 
 loole Behaviour, have fometimes 
 told their Acquaintance in Conver- 
 fation, that they could not believe 
 they were Sincere and in goodEar- 
 neit, when they profefs'd their Be- 
 lief of the Chriftian Inftitution, and 
 have expreis'd their Reafons in this 
 manner ; Were it our ftedfaft Opi- 
 nion, 'that the Doctrines and Pre- 
 cepts, as well as the Sanction of
 
 The PR E FACE. li 
 
 endlefs Pain and Mifery contained 
 in the Chriftian Syftem, were efta- 
 blifh'd by the Authority of Divine 
 Revelation, we would feed on Bread 
 and Water, defpife Wealth and 
 Power, and renounce the moft 
 tempting Enjoyments that gratify 
 our Senies, rather than indulge our 
 {elves in the Practice of the moft 
 pleafant Sins: And it is fo agree- 
 able to the Inftin&s of Nature and 
 the Dictates of Reafon, rather to 
 forbear a tranfient Satisfaction, thati 
 to expofe one's felf to Divine 
 Wrath and Everlafting Sufferings; 
 that we cannot imagine how it is 
 poflible that you fhould really af- 
 ient to the Truth of Chriftianity, 
 and yet live a Life fo repugnant 
 to your Creed. This is indeed a 
 iinart and cutting Expoftulation ; 
 and but two Things can be alledg'd 
 in Anfwer to it ; one is this, That 
 many fincerely a (Tent, tho in a low 
 G 2 and
 
 lii The PREFACE. 
 
 and unprevailing Degree, to the 
 Truth of the Chriftian Inftitution ; 
 but their Belief is fo much born 
 down and over-power'd by the cri- 
 minal Propeniions of corrupt Na- 
 ture and evil acquired Habits, that 
 their Aftions bear no Conformity 
 to the Rules of the Religion which 
 they profefs. Another is, that many 
 have iuch crude and erroneous No- 
 tions of the Nature of Chriftian 
 Virtues and their oppofite Vices, 
 that tho they really aft in con- 
 trad idlion to their Religion, yet 
 they are not confcious of that In- 
 coniiftency, and do not know that 
 they are Chriftians only in Name, 
 and not in Reality ; and therefore 
 to convince them of the Abfurdity 
 of their Sentiments on a Subjed of 
 this Importance, I have endeavour'd 
 in this ESSAY, to fet the Matter 
 in a true Light ; where I have de- 
 monftrated, that the ElTence of Mo- 
 ral
 
 The PREFACE, liii 
 
 ral Goodnefs and the Divine Sim- 
 plicity of Religion, confift in the 
 Rectitude of the Intellectual Facul- 
 ties, and the predominant Purity 
 of the Heart, whence Streams of 
 beautiful and praife-worthy Aftions 
 conftantly flow, which have no ge- 
 nuine Vertue in themielves, let 
 the Matter of them be ever fo 
 fliining, but what they derive from 
 their inward Fountain. 
 
 I HAVE already laid down this 
 Pofition, That it is in vain to per- 
 fuade a bad Perlbn to correct his 
 Life and become a vertuous Man, 
 that is, one who adts from a Prin- 
 ciple of Obedience to the Divine 
 Being, and conforms himfelf to his 
 unwritten and reveal'd Laws, with 
 a Profpeft of acquiring his perfect 
 Happinefs in the Fruition of his 
 Creator, which is the eflential and 
 diftinguilhing Character of a good 
 c 3 Man,
 
 liv The PREFAC^. 
 
 Man, by any other Motives and 
 Arguments than what are drawn 
 from a Future State of Felicity or 
 Mifery, It is true, that fome Per? 
 ions are reclaimed from vicious and 
 deftruftive Practices, by the Confi- 
 deration of the Inconveniences and 
 evil Confequences that attend them 
 in relpeft of themfelves and their 
 Families; and many more do the 
 fame from a Change of Tafte that 
 happens in the different Periods of 
 Lite, our Relifh of Satisfaction and 
 Pleafure being various in Youth, 
 Manhood, and old Age ; but if their 
 better Courfe of Life and Sobriety 
 of Manners do not fpring from 
 that Divine Principle and Regular 
 End above defcrib'd, they cannot 
 be denominated Good Men. Their 
 degenerate Nature continues the 
 lame, and tho the Objeft is chang'd, 
 their evil Inclinations are unaltered - 
 their Adions, tho for the Mat* 
 
 ter
 
 The P R E F A c E. ly 
 
 ter of them, they make a much 
 better Appearance, are no more in 
 reality vertuous than thofe before. 
 For this Reafon I have, in the 
 ESSAY upon the IMMORTALITY 
 of the SOUL, endeavour'd to evince 
 the Certainty of a Future State of 
 endlels Happinels or Sufferings, as 
 being fully aflur'd that no Motives 
 of lets Weight will prevail with Men 
 to corret an irregular Life : And I 
 hope I have eftablifh'd this Article 
 by fuch full and clear Evidence, that 
 it. will be acknowledged by every 
 impartial Reader who will atten- 
 tively exercife his Reafon upon this 
 matter, in which his Intereft is fo 
 much concerned. 
 
 IN the DISSERTATION on the 
 LAWS of NATURE, I have drawn 
 the Difcourfe into as clofe a room as 
 fo copious a Theme will admit, if the 
 Perfpicuity of the Stile, the natural 
 c 4. Depen.'
 
 Ivi The PREFACE. 
 
 Dependance and Connexion of the 
 Conclufions, and the convincing Force 
 of the Evidence are preferv'd : and 
 for that Reafon I have forborn to 
 cite Opinions of many celebrated 
 Writers upon that Subject, particu- 
 larly Suare^ Grotim^ and Tuffendorj, 
 who tho an Author by many ad- 
 mird, is to me often difagreeable 
 and uninftrudive, becaufe of his 
 Obfcurity and the Confufion of his 
 Ideas. Should I have enter'd into 
 a Dilpute with thele great Writers, 
 and attempted . to lay open their 
 Defefts, and confute their erroneous 
 Portions, I fhould not only have 
 interrupted the Thread of my Dif- 
 courfe, and difappointed my De- 
 fign of exhibiting in one View, to 
 the Reader, an entire Scheme of my 
 Opinions, but I muft likewife have 
 extended it to a greater Length than 
 1 thought proper for an ESSAY. 
 
 AND
 
 The PREFACE. Ivii 
 
 AND for the fameReafon in the 
 Difcourie upon the O R i G i N of C i- 
 VIL POWER., I have not men- 
 tion'd the Notions of many Learned 
 Authors, which are contrary to mine, 
 that I might not embroil my felf 
 in Controverfy, and grow uneafy to 
 the Reader by numerous Citations. 
 
 The
 
 THE 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 A 
 
 I. 
 
 N E s s A Y on the Nature And Confti- 
 
 Pag. iii 
 24 
 
 The Preface. 
 
 - Of Probability. 
 
 - Of the Marvellous. 35 
 - Of the Fable. 37 
 
 - - Of the Allegory. 41 
 
 - Of the Unity. 47 
 
 - Of the Importance of the Action. 48 
 
 Of the Epifodes. 52 
 Of Integrity. 59 
 
 Of the Duration. 61 
 
 - Of the Machines. 6g 
 -- Of the Dignity of the Narration. 75
 
 The CONTENTS. 
 
 the Moral. 76 
 
 -*P/ ffc Charafters. g$ 
 
 A Comparifon between Epick Poetry and 
 
 Tragedy. 85 
 
 SECTION. II. 
 
 of the Sublime Stile. 93 
 
 Of the Sublimity of Thoughts. 94 
 
 Of the Choice of Words. 97 
 
 Of the Ranging of the Words, ipg 
 
 Of the Verfification. 1 1 1 
 
 .Of Cool and Sedate Figures. 120 
 
 Of Amplifications, Defcriptions, tndl 
 
 Similitudes. > I34 
 
 O/ Pathetick Figures. 140 
 
 ^ Appendix. 1 56 
 An Account of the frefent Controverfy* l 
 
 concerning Homer'j Iliad. $ 
 
 II.
 
 The CONTENTS.' 
 
 n. 
 
 AN ESSAY upon WIT. 189 
 
 '" The Definition of Wit. 191 
 
 Its Efficient Caufe. ijj 
 The End and Vfefalnefs of this lnge-"\ 
 nious Qualification. $ 
 
 Of the Abufe of Wit. 2OJ 
 
 The Immorality of the Stage. 218 
 
 A Method proposed for its Reformation. 229 
 
 m. 
 
 A N Ess A\ upon FALSE VERTUE. 259 
 ** Inflames of Falfe Vertue. 245 
 
 Of the Defire of Glory that moft re*-) , 
 
 fembles True Vertue. 5 
 
 A clofer Enquiry into the DiftinSlion-^ , 
 
 of True and Falfe Vertue. 3 ' 
 
 Of Vertue aripng from Fear of Puo o 
 nilhment. J 
 
 IV.
 
 The CONTENT^. 
 
 IV. 
 
 AN ESSAY ufon the Immorta--* 
 lity of .the SOUL. 5 ' 
 
 ~*.Tjj e Immortality of tie Soul 
 demoftrAt&d from natural Argu-t, 
 meats. > 
 
 Of Moral Arguments. 
 Objections agatnft the SouPs Immor--) 
 
 ulit,. S ?44 
 
 Anfaer'd* 350 
 
 Kffi?+3f&''& 
 
 *f*^Att i" 
 
 A N E s s : A- V 'apon the LAWS of 
 ffV NATURE. 
 
 The Laws of Nature, how promul- 
 gated. 
 
 Of Moral Obligations resetting our fek 
 Of Moral Obligations in re/pect to our ^ g 
 Neighbour.
 
 The CONTENTS. 
 
 of Relative Duties from one 
 to mother. J * 
 
 VL 
 
 A 2V ESSAY upon the ORIGIN ? -. 
 0/CiviL POWER. 5 ' 
 
 Moral Obligations on Civil Powers. 458 
 Of Obedience due from Subjefts* 441
 
 ERRATA; 
 
 PAGE vii. of the Preface, Line i. for 
 read Cornices, p. xxii. I. 13. leave out Humour. 
 .15. l.n. ofthcEflays, for Taft read cafl. p. 18. 1.15. 
 for varius r. Varius. p. 30. \. 16. for who r. and. p. 
 71. I. 1 8. for their own Religion r. bis OTUH. p. 74. 1. 
 iSf. inftcad of, as if, r. as it would be if. p. no. l.n. 
 for as r. and. p. 119.1.1. for abufe r. amufe. p. 130. 
 I. 11. for intending r. intended, p. 133. I. i. for fo<? 
 r. be. p. iji. 1. 14. leave out alfo. p. 157. 1. 14. for 
 any nevt Notions i. any Notions, p. 174. 1. 4. leave ouc 
 * n before tobicb. p. 171. 1.8. after ^ Sacred Writings y 
 zA&i cited before, p. 191 . 1. il. for <?> r. 0/1 p. 197. 1.7. 
 for Foundation r. Foundations, p. 303. 1. z$. for Co- 
 verfation r. Confervatisn. p. 331. 1. 16. after f/&* Pz- 
 tofopber faid toett, add, < /'y mentioned in another EJ/aj. 
 p. 334. 1. 19. after Divine Goodnefs r. a^ Wifdom. p. 
 366. 1. 14. for ev// Thing* r. fv/7 <>y Things, p* 409. 
 1. 11. after G//f r. ^ -w^/V* proceeds.
 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 NATURE 
 
 AND 
 
 CONSTITUTION 
 
 O F 
 
 EPICK POETRY. 
 
 B
 
 V. A 
 
 i; A 
 .1 ..rl c 
 
 3 K T .H O 
 
 3 /! -U T.'-A I'L 
 
 .' a /i A 
 
 o f l vion H 

 
 THE 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 | FT ER the Ruin of the Gre- 
 cian and Roman Empires, un- 
 der whofe Protection the Arts 
 and, Sciences had long flour iffy V, 
 , Polite Liter at urefoon tanguifh^d^ 
 and. At length became univerfallj neglected, h 
 continued in this State during the unrefined 
 4ges, in which the Colleges of Europe were 
 entirely taken up in fiudying AriftotleV dry 
 Phiiofophy, and the uninftruftive Speculations 
 of the dark School-men ; till in the Reign of 
 Pope Leo the Tenth ', a generous Patron of 
 Letters and Ingenuity^ it hegan to revive And. 
 get ground. About this Time, among other 
 Greek Authors^ the Springs whence the Ro- 
 mans and the Italians, their Succeffors, derived 
 their Learning, Ariftotle'/ Book of Poetry 
 by ViQorius at Florence, ftir*d 
 B 2 up
 
 iv PREFACE. 
 
 up Men of Genius and Lovers of Science, to 
 enquire, for their own Improvement And the 
 Infraction of others, into the Notions And. 
 Rules of that great Mafter, efpecially thofe 
 that related to the fublime manner of Wri- 
 ting. Soon after rofe up many Criticks in this 
 Art, of whom the mo ft eminent were, Vida, 
 Caftelvetro, and Paul Beni. Nor could this 
 curious and inquifitive Spirit be confrfd to 
 Italy, it foon pafed the Alps, and entring 
 France, excited the Natives of Poetical In- 
 clinations and Capacity, to imitate^ their inge- 
 nious Neighbours ; and thefe, to their Honour , 
 carrfd on the Critical Knowledge of Epick 
 foetry to a greater Height, efpecially the two 
 lathers Rapin and Boifu ; the laft of whom 
 has excelled all the Mafter s, who had writ on 
 that SubjeSt before him, 
 
 IT muft be acknowledged, that till about 
 forty Tears ago, Great Britain was barren of 
 Critical Learning, the? fertile in excellent 
 Writers ; and in particular, had fo little Tafte 
 of Epick Poetry, and were Jo unacquainted with 
 the effential Properties and peculiar Beauties of 
 it, that Paradife Loft, an admirable Work 
 of that kind, publffid by Mr. Milton, the 
 great Ornament of his Age and Country, lay 
 tnany Tears unfpoken of, and entirely difre- 
 garded, till at length it happened, that Jome 
 Ptrfom of greater Delicacy and judgment 
 
 found
 
 PREFACE. v 
 
 found out the Merit of that excellent Poem ; 
 and, by communicating their Sentiments to their 
 Friends, propagated the EJleem of the Author, 
 who foon acquired univerfal Applaufe. This 
 Curioptj fpreading among Perfons of Po?tical 
 Genius and Critical Tajle, and animated by 
 the Treatife of Bo flu on Epick Poetry, which 
 about this Time was brought over from France, 
 the fner Spirits of the Age began to enquire 
 into the Nature and Qualities of it, and 
 enter d much farther into this SubjecJ, than 
 the Grammarians and Commentators had done 
 before ; who only hover* d on the Surface, but 
 never ventured into the Depths of Heroick 
 Poetry. Noiv it was that Mr. Dryden a- 
 dortfd fever al of his Difcourjes in Profe, by 
 interfperfing various ufeful Obfervations on 
 this Subject. Mr. Rymer at the fame time 
 publtjtid his judicious Remarks on Epick Com- 
 portions, together with his more copious Dif- 
 fertation on Tragedy. Not long after, the Ap- 
 pearance of Prince Arthur increased this grow* 
 ing Ferment, by Engaging the Poets and Cri- 
 ticks to exercife their Reflection on this kind of 
 Writing, that they might be qualiffd, AS 
 they favoured the Author and his Depgn, to 
 (ink or fupport the Reputation of the Poem. 
 In the Preface to that Poem, 1 have given a 
 Draught of this Species of Poetry in little ; 
 which however, I imagine, exhibits the intrin- 
 fick Nature and effential Properties of it in A 
 B $ clear %
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 clear, tho not A diffufive Light ; und lately 
 * judicious Crititk, in bis Dijcourfes on Mil- 
 ton, has defertfd mil of the Polite World, 
 by his curious And rational Obfervations, which 
 at once have advanced the Knowledge of He* 
 roick Poetry, and given an excellent Example 
 of the free Exerct/e of Reafon in Criticifm* 
 
 SINCE that) a very laudable Tranjla- 
 \ tion of fome Books of the Iliad, with a Pro- 
 wife of the reft, and an accurate Edition of 
 Spenfer'/ Works have been pabliftid, with 
 Critical Remarks prefixed by the ingenious 
 Writers. 
 
 BT this it appears, that this great and 
 elevated manner of Writing is now ftttdjd, 
 and that at prefent the Epick Tafle is in Fa- 
 (bioti. Our Poets apply to this SubjetJ from 
 A Principle of Emulation ; and whoever wfjbes 
 well to Mankind^ and defires the Honour of his 
 Country, will encourage their Labours, and 
 give to each his juft (bare of dpplaufe. Nor 
 will the Contefts among Poets themfelves about 
 Superiority have any ill Effect, if the Patrons 
 0f Polite Learning impartially divide their 
 Favours among them, according to their De- 
 gree of Merit. This Race of Men are -of a 
 delicate and nice Complexion, full of Sufpicion 
 and Caprice, and as liable to be jealous of Com- 
 petitors in Wit, tt* others ire of Rivals in 
 
 Love ,
 
 PREFACE. ru 
 
 Love ; end therefore fbould be cenpder*d as 
 Poets, tn& be ivdulgd in their little private 
 Contentions ; for it can never be expeffed, tfat 
 Mle they aim at the Laurel, they fljould look 
 kindly on others who Jiand in their way. 
 
 OVR Witt *nd Beauties, in which this 
 Ifland does equally abound, mil, I imagine, at 
 the fame time become Enemies to Envy and 
 Detraction", witt carefs with jincere Friendfhip 
 thofe of the fame Raok, propagate the Opinion 
 of their Merit , and take detight in each Cher's 
 Reputation. 
 
 I T is remarkable, that about that Period 
 of lime, when this Nation firft exprefs^d * 
 greater Relifh of Epick Poetry, they Itkewije 
 began to tafte the fublime Stile in Mufick. 
 We had, till no\v y contented our felves with 
 light Tunes, and low familiar Airs, hut now 
 we afpire to higher Strains ; we take Pkafure in 
 Corelli'j Compositions for the Instrument, and 
 BuonanciniV for the Voice ; and nothing will 
 now fleaje, but what has fomething of the great 
 Italian Manner: And, as thcfe Tafles of ele- 
 vated Poetry and "Maftck began together, ft 
 they have kept an equal fcace in thsir Progrefs. 
 
 TO accommodate 
 
 Times, and promote the 
 ot of improving the Cn 
 
 c*l 
 
 Inclination of the Times, and prom 
 ntrous Defign on foot of improving 
 B 4
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 cat Knowledge of Epick Poetry, which is A 
 boundlefs field of delightful Contemplation, I 
 have given to the Publick the following Ejfay ; 
 in which I have enquired into the Nature and 
 Constitution of this fublime kind of Writing ; 
 / have lightly touch'd thofe Subjefts which 
 have already been exhaufted by other Pens, and 
 have been copious only, where, as 1 hope, I have 
 improved and ftrengtherfd by new Arguments 
 and Illustrations the common Opinions, which I 
 believe are jufl ; or where I have endeavoured 
 to confute others, which, tho generally received^ 
 I look upon as erroneous. 
 
 AN
 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON 
 
 EPICK POETRY. 
 
 FTER Arifotk\ School, in 
 the eldeft Times of Chriftia* 
 nity, had prevall'd over Plate, 
 and the Colleges of Learning 
 had univerfally fubmitted to 
 their new Mafter, foon was his Authority 
 fo well eftablifh'd, that for many Centu- 
 ries his Do&rines became uncontefted, and 
 were receiv'd as firft Principles, that needed 
 no Proof or Demonftration. During many 
 fucceedjng Ages, the Learning of Europe 
 confifted in the Knowledge of this Philo- 
 fopher's Opinions; and thofe only were 
 
 applaud*
 
 IQ An ESSAY upon 
 
 applauded as eminent Scholars, who were 
 the moft laborious and skilful Commenta- 
 tors on his Writings. The voluminous 
 Lucubrations of thefe idle Students, who 
 only copy'd and expounded their Leader's 
 SentiinentSv which they follow'd with a 
 blind Obedience, were efteem'd the only 
 valuable Productions of Philofophy. At 
 length arofe fome famous Worthies, who, 
 animated by a generous Impulfe to de- 
 liver Europe from the bafeft Servitude, 
 that of the Underloading, attack'd Arifto- 
 tie and his Adherents with great Vigour, 
 declar'd againft, all arbitrary Impofitions 
 on the Mind, and afTerted the Liberty of 
 Reflection, and a Power of examining Evi- 
 dence, and judging for themfelves. Thefe 
 excellent Perfons, who defer v'd fo well of 
 Mankind, by vindicating the Dignity of 
 Humane Nature, arid (landing up for its 
 Rights and Prerogatives, againft the Ufur- 
 pation of a particular Soft, having by an 
 impartial Search difcover'd that the Peri- 
 patetick Syftem liad nothing in it for its 
 fupport, but precarious and unevident Prin- 
 ciples, effe&ually exposed its Weaknefs, 
 and foon brought the greateft Autliority, 
 that was ever eihblimd in the Schools, 
 ipto general Contempt,
 
 EPICK POETRY. u 
 
 BUT when thefe extraordinary Men, by 
 encouraging the free Exercifc of Reafon, 
 had infus'd an active Ferment into the 
 Minds of an ignorant and flothful Gene- 
 ration, by the Operation of which they 
 were excited to throw off the Yoke of 
 Ariftotle in Matters of Philofophy, it is 
 wonderful that the Effect was not more 
 extend ve. They had as great Reafon to 
 have proceeded to the Examination of his 
 Rules in the Art of Poetry, and to have 
 made Enquiry, if thofe were fettled on 
 better Foundations. But I know not how 
 it came to pafs, his Notions and Precepts 
 an this Art have ftill remained unqueftion'd 
 and untry'd. The modern Criticks, con- 
 temning the Examples of the Philofbphers, 
 have ftill proceeded in the old beaten Track, 
 of believing and admiring whatever Ari- 
 ftotle advances on the Subjects, where the 
 Mufes are concern'd. They are all like 
 their fubmiffive Predeceflbrs, mere Expo- 
 fitors, fcarce excepting Boffu himfelf, of 
 the Writings of that great Man, and have 
 made no Improvements, nor afferted the 
 Liberty of Poetry, as the other freer Spi- 
 rits have vindicated that of Philofophy. 
 It's clear, that Jri/ot/e form'd all his Axi- 
 oms and Do&rines in Poetry, from the 
 Patterns of Homer w& other Gnt^ Writers j 
 
 and.
 
 II SSAY Uftm 
 
 and, without afligning any Reafon of his 
 Petitions, relies for the Truth of them on 
 his own, or the Authority of thofe Au- 
 thors. But it is not the Authority df the 
 greateft Mafters, but folid and convincing 
 Evidence, that muft engage our Belief, and 
 make us fubfcribe to any Maxims in any 
 Art or Science whatfoever. 
 
 I LOOK \\VQttArijlotle as a great Genius, 
 and a Perfon of more than common Eru- 
 dition ; but will no more fubmit to him 
 as a Law-giver of the Poets, than of the 
 Philofophers. I fhall always pay Refpeft 
 and Deference to his Judgment and Opi- 
 nions, tho not acquiefce in them as infal- 
 lible and decifive Decrees. And if Men, 
 from a generous Principle of Liberty, would 
 renounce the unjutt, tho prevailing Power 
 of Authority, and claim their natural Right 
 of entring into the Reafon of Things, and 
 judging for themfelves, it is highly pro- 
 bable that the Art of Poetry might be 
 carry 'd on to greater Degrees of Perfection, 
 and be improv'd, as Philofophy has been. 
 
 WHEN thus unfetter'd and difingag'd 
 from a flavifh Dependance upon celebrated 
 Writers, Men would foon difregard the 
 crude and unreafonable AlFertions, fre- 
 quently laid down by injudicious Com- 
 mentators
 
 EPICK POETRY. 13 
 
 mentators and fuperficial Grammarians, 
 whofe Attainments confift in a Collection 
 of Examples, and an Ability to explain the 
 Roman and Grecian Authors : Nor will a 
 modern Heroick Work be any longer ac- 
 quitted or condemn'd, merely as it bears a 
 Conformity or Diffimilitude to the Iliad 
 or the ALmtt; but when future Criticks 
 fhall approve or cenfure an j Epick Perfor- 
 mance, they will produce clear Evidence 
 from the Nature and Constitution of that 
 kind of Poetry, to make good their Opi- 
 nions ; and not rely on the fingle Authority 
 of ancient Writers, tho of the greateft 
 Name, to fupport them : It will no more 
 be allow'd an undeniable Proof of any Poet's 
 erroneous and abfurd Conduct, that he 
 deviates from the Examples of Homer and 
 Virgil ; nor will it juftify him in any In- 
 iknce objected to his Writings, that he has 
 the Practice of thofe excellent Poets to bear 
 him out. 
 
 NEITHER is it fufficient to alledge, 
 that Ariftotle has exprefs'd greater Judgment 
 and Accuracy in his Difcourfes on Poetry, 
 than in his Philofophical Productions ; and 
 therefore, tho the laft, upon a juft Tryal, 
 have been exploded, yet the firft have 
 been efteem'd in all Ages by the Learned 
 World as maflerly Inftru&ions, and con- 
 tinue
 
 j 4 An ESSAY upon 
 
 tinue undifputed to this Day ; for this is 
 ftili to preis us only with the Authority 
 of Ariftatle aad his Commentators. If his 
 Rules and Precepts of Poetry ought to be 
 fo highly regarded, it muft be upon this 
 Account, That ftronger Reafons can be 
 produc'd in Defence of thefe, than of his 
 Syftem of Natural Science : But how can 
 this appear, f if we take his Writings on 
 the Art of Poetry upon Content, and do 
 not by an impartial Examination make it 
 clear, that the Evidence of Reafon is on 
 their Side; which was wanting to fupport 
 his Philofophy ? And this, as far as I know, 
 has not been attempted. 
 ^T^O'I vfi. : ; i:.if*; ; ; 
 
 I WOULD not be fo underftood, as if I 
 condemn'd in general Atifot&s Rules of 
 Poetry, and was about to fet up another 
 Syftem of Opinions and Precepts in their 
 room ; my Purpofe is, to give them a fair 
 Hearing, and if upon an impartial Tryal 
 they appear to be built upon good Foun- 
 dations, to confirm the Authority of the 
 Greek Critick by the Force of Reafon. 
 But, on the other hand, I (hall freely reject 
 any Maxims, whether his, or thofe of 
 his Commentators, which cannot be fup- 
 portcd by any Arguments of Weight and 
 Solidity ; and I fhall ufe the fame Liberty 
 in adding any new Opinions on this Sub- 
 * jed,
 
 EPICKPOETRY. 15 
 
 jer, which in my Judgment will improve 
 the Art of Poetry. I have not, from a fu- 
 perftitious Veneration of Antiquity, that 
 exceflive regard for the Precepts of Ari- 
 ftotle and the Practice of Homer, as to 
 receive them without Examination; for 
 were they in every Inftance juft and 
 right, as I believe they are in many, yet 
 I am under no Obligation to fubmit to 
 them, till they are demonftrated to be fo 
 by the Evidence of Reafon. I muft how- 
 ever acknowledge, that I have fo great a 
 Deference and Efteem for the Judgment 
 of Arifotk) and the Examples of Homer 
 and Virgil, that I fhall not give them up, 
 but where it is very clear, that they cannot 
 be defended. Some Perfons, whether out 
 of a peculiar Curiofity of Tafte, or Aflfefta- 
 tion of Learning, have all modern Produ- 
 ctions in Contempt, and can relifh nothing 
 but what has an antique Tafte and an Air 
 of Greece. Thefe would prefer a ruinous 
 Wall, if part of an ancient tho ii>ean 
 Structure, to the moft beautiful and mag- 
 nificent Palace, if newly built. They look 
 on the Fragments of an old Author as an 
 ineftimable Treafure, while they allow no- 
 thing tolerable that is lately written, un- 
 lefs it bears a Conformity to the Plans of 
 former Ages, 
 
 OTHERS
 
 1 6 An E s s A Y ufan 
 
 OTHRS> on the contrary, have con* 
 ceiv'd fuch a Difguft to the ancient Fathers 
 of Learning, that they pay no refpect to 
 the Primitive Ages of Arts and Science ; 
 at leaft, they prefer all modern Productions 
 in their feveral Kinds, to the moft valua- 
 ble Works of remote Writers. I ftiall en- 
 deavour to fteer a middle Courfe between 
 thefe Extreams. 
 
 I SHALL not enter into a Difquifition of 
 Ariftotlfs Rules in general, but content my 
 felf with a Difcuffton of thofe that relate 
 to Epick Poetry ; and, according to the Opi- 
 nions which at prefent prevail among the 
 Ariftotelian Criticks, lay down the Defi- 
 nition of a Poera of that Species. To 
 promote the free Exercife of the Under- 
 flanding on the Subjects of Poetry, I (hall 
 examine the feveral Parts of an Epick 
 Writing, and, fettingafide Authority, will 
 endeavour to (hew how far the Rules in 
 Fafhion are upheld by Reafon, and in 
 what they appear by the fame Light to be 
 defective, and then frame a Definition more 
 agreeable to Reafon. According to the 
 prefent Rules, an Epick Poem is a feign'd, 
 probable, wonderful and allegorical Story, 
 of a great Atchievement perform'd by 
 fome illuftrious Perfon, extended by va- 
 rious
 
 E P KG K POETRY. i *j 
 
 rious IncideHts or Epifodes, and i*elated in 
 Verfe, of the fublime Stile, to afford De- 
 light and Inftrucliom 
 
 To convey great Ideas and worthy 
 Conceptions to the Underftanding, to ex- 
 cite Religious and Moral Paflions, and ele- 
 vate the Mind above low and vulgar Opi- 
 nions, is a very reafonable Undertaking; 
 and therefore this Species of Poetry, which 
 has thefe Ends in view, is a laudable and 
 noble Art ; for what can be more defire- 
 able, than to cultivate the Minds of Men, 
 and make them wifer and better* by cor- 
 recting their falfe Maxims, freeing them 
 from groundlefs Prepofleffions,and infpiring 
 them with generous Inftinds and exalted 
 Sentiments ? Therefore this kind of Poe- 
 try, which of all others conduces moft to 
 this end, muft be look'd on as highly valua- 
 ble : And as upon this account it is moft 
 excellent in its own Nature, being em- 
 ploy'd upon the fublimeft and moft im- 
 portant Subjects fo by the almoft univer- 
 fai and unanimous Suffrages of tlie inge- 
 nious and polite Part of Mankind, it has 
 in all Ages been efteem'd the moft diffi- 
 cult, as well as the moft excellent Produ&i* 
 on of the Mind : Of which more here- 
 after. 
 
 C THIS
 
 i8 An ESSAY 
 
 THI s Species of Poetry is ftil'd fome- 
 times Epick y and fometimes Heroick ; the 
 firft Appellation is deriv'd from the Greek 
 Term '*, which is fo far appropriated to 
 toetry, that it is fcarce ever, or very fel- 
 dom us'd by the Writers of Profe ; for the 
 Truth of which Aflcrtion I rely on the 
 Authority of Henry Stephetf, whofe con- 
 fummate Skill in that Language is univer- 
 felly acknowledg'd by the Learned World, 
 and its firft and moft common fignifica- 
 tion is a Word, Befides this, it is ws'd by 
 way of Eminency to fignify an Heroick 
 Poem ; fo Horace fays, Fortt Epos acer, at 
 ytepno, vtrius duxit ; as if the Language of 
 that Poetry was fo rich, fplendid, and fub- 
 lime, that no other ought to be call'd D/'c- 
 ttoftj or a Scheme of Words. The fecond 
 Appellation, Heroick, arifethfrom the He- 
 roes, whofe illuftrious A&ions are related 
 in thefe Poems : And therefore Bofja does, 
 in my Opinion, unjuftly reject this diftin- 
 guifbing Epithet as improper ; becaufe, as 
 he believes, it took its Rife from that 
 Species of Verfe call'd Heroick, that is em- 
 ployM in this Poetry, But were his Opi- 
 nion true, as the contrary is evident, not- 
 withftanding this and his other Objection, 
 that Heroes are the Subjects of more kinds 
 of Poetry befides this ; yet Cuftom, which 
 
 fettles
 
 Epick P o T R y. 19 
 
 fettles the fignifkation of Words, and gives 
 them their Purity and Propriety, has fo far 
 obtain'd among Learned Men in all Ages, 
 that I (hall not fcruple from that Authority 
 to ufe the Words Heroick and Epick indif- 
 ferently in this Difcourfe. 
 
 IT is ftil'd, as 1 have faid, an Heroick 
 Poem, becaufe the principal Adion related 
 in it is the great Atchievement of fome 
 illuftrious Leader. Tho the firft Notion 
 of Heroick Vertue had its Rife from any 
 eminent Benefa&ors, who had defer v'd 
 Well of their Country and of Mankind^ 
 by laying the Foundations of Cities and 
 EmpireSj and by inventing ufeful Arts ; 
 fuch as planting the Vine, fowing Corn^ 
 curing Difeafcs, and freeing their Country 
 from Plagues and wild Beads ; for which 
 they were confecrated after their Deceafe, 
 and worfhip'd as Demi-Gods or Heroes : 
 yet at length it became appropriated to 
 thofe, who with great Valour and Con- 
 cluft had attack'd or defended a City, or 
 Defeated an Enemy in the Field. 
 
 THE general Idea of Heroick Poetry, 
 is that of Imitation. To imitate, is to ex-* 
 prefs a Refemblance of any Objeft, either 
 by Aftion or Imagination ; the Jaft of which 
 taken in a larger Senfe, may be fubdivided 
 C 2 inw>
 
 so An Ess AY upon 
 
 into Imitation by the Power of Imaglna- 
 tion, where the Ideas of the Mind bear 
 a Similitude to Objects, that really exift 
 or have exifted; and that, where the 
 Ideas of the Mind {hew a Conformity or 
 Agreement to feign'd Objects, which how- 
 ever are founded in Probability, and are 
 capable of real Exiftence. In the firft 
 Senfe, that is by Action, we are faid to 
 imitate when we form our Geftures, Ha- 
 bits, and Schemes of Life, by fome Pattern 
 or Exemplar, that we fet before us. Thus 
 one is faid to imitate another in his man- 
 ner of Walking, Dancing, or Singing ; and 
 one Poet, Orator, Architect, or Painter, 
 one General or Statefman imitates another, 
 on whofe Model he endeavours to fafhion 
 himfelf. The fecond way of imitating, is 
 by Imagination ; which is nothing elfe 
 but a Power or Faculty of framing Ima- 
 ges, whence it plainly derives its Name ; 
 and this is of two forts. 
 
 A s to the firft, where the Conceptions 
 of the Mind have a Likenefs to the real 
 Objects which it conceives, it arifes from 
 the native Power of the Underftanding to 
 create Ideas that reprefent any external 
 Object, and to draw, for its own Contem- 
 plation, Inftruction and Delight, an end- 
 lefs variety of fuch intelle&ual Idols or 
 * Pidures,
 
 Epi C K Po E T RY. 21 
 
 Pictures, and to exprefs them in a Scheme 
 of Words ; by which this Faculty is diftin- 
 guifh'd from the Arts of Painting and 
 Sculpture, which reprefent the Archetype 
 by Figures, Lineaments, and Colours. All 
 Imitation, in proper fpeaking, is the Effect 
 of Art ; and 'tis in an equivocal Senfe, 
 that we fay, when two Things in Nature 
 are alike, as for inftance, a Cat and .a 
 Tyger, that they imitate one another. 
 
 BESIDES, the Imagination has a Power 
 of drawing Pictures of feign'd Perfons, 
 Manners, and Actions, which it does not 
 reprefent as true and real, but as likely 
 and agreeable to Exemplars actually exift- 
 ing in Nature; and this fort of Imitation 
 is found not only in Epick Poetry, which 
 it has in common with Tragick, Comick, 
 and the upper Lyrick Writings, but like- 
 wife in Fables, devis'd Novels, and Ro- 
 roantick Stories writ in Profe. 
 
 THAT in which Imitation effential- 
 ly confifts, and is feen in all the Kinds 
 of it, is the Conformity and Similitude be* 
 tween the imagined Reprefentation and 
 the Object reprefented. Then is a Picture 
 or a Statue juft and true, when it bears 
 a Refemblance to the Original ; when the 
 Artift, by the Power of Imagination, fe- 
 C j parade*
 
 33 An Ess AT upon 
 
 parates and abftra&s the Similitude from 
 the Objeft, and transfers it to the Can* 
 vas or the Marble : and the greater the 
 Likenefs and Conformity is between them, 
 the more exquifite and perfeft is the Work. 
 
 B Y this it appears wherein the Opera- 
 tions by which the Underftanding imi- 
 tates, are diftinguifh'd from Symbols, Hie- 
 roglyphicks, perfonal Types, and figni- 
 ficant Ceremonies, which do not exprefs 
 any Object by Reprefentation or Refem- 
 blance, but only admonifh and put us in 
 mind of fomething, that by Cuftom and 
 common Confent they ftand for, and are 
 us'd to fignify. 
 
 THIS is the general Idea of Imitation, 
 the Species of it are various, as diverfify'd 
 by their Chara&eriftick Properties. The 
 Poet imitates Nature by Sentiments and 
 a Scheme of Words, the Sculptor and 
 Painter by Lines and Colours : The Poets 
 imitate by Terms and Sentences bound- 
 ed by Metre ; Writers in Profe, which 
 equally aim at a Conformity and Refers 
 blance between the Ideas of the Mind and 
 the Objects reprefented, imitate by a Train 
 of Words not meafur'd and limited by 
 Nupbers And by what eflfential Boun- 
 Epick Poetry is feparated from the 
 
 other
 
 Epi CK Po ETRY. 23 
 
 other Species of that Art, which all agree is 
 imitation ot Nature, will afterwards appear. 
 
 IT is faid in the Definition, that an 
 Epick Poem is a Narration of a feign'd 
 Story, and the Reafon is, that it may be 
 diftinguiftfd from Hiftory, which is a re- 
 cital of a Series of true A&ions ; and tho 
 the chief Event in an Epick Poem may be 
 real, and fo the Poem will be founded in 
 a Truth, yet the Plan, the Incidents, the 
 Digredions, and in fhort, the Means by 
 which that Event is brought about, are in- 
 vented by the Author ; and if any of the 
 Incidents are true and unfeign'd, yet they 
 are not introduc'd as fuch into the Poem ; 
 for they are not recited as Matters of Fab, 
 but only as they are probable, of which 
 more in the next Article. If therefore the 
 Performance is not caft into a Fable devis'd 
 by the Writer, from which artful Contri- 
 vance the Poet originally derives his Name, 
 it would by no means be an Epick Writing. 
 If Livy or Thucydides were turn'd into Verfe 
 by the moft excellent Pen, let the Num- 
 bers be ever fo mufical, and the Didlipn 
 ever fo fplendid and admirable, they wouij 
 no more become Poems, than a News-Pa pej: 
 would be dignify M with that Title, tho re- 
 lated in the moft corred and beautjfuj 
 Numbers. 
 
 C 4 A
 
 34- /In 3 SAT 
 
 A w E L L imagined Romance, or fuch a 
 Writing as the Adventures of Te/emach^ 
 tho in Profe, approaches nearer to the Na- 
 ture of an Heroick Poem, than a true Hi- 
 flory would do, tho exprefs'd in all the 
 Charms of Poetry, that the greateft Ge- 
 nius could give ip. 
 
 ONE infeparable Quality of Epick Poe- 
 try, is Probability. It has been already 
 fhewn, that the general Idea of this kind 
 of Writing, which is common to it with 
 ^U the other Sorts,, is Imitation, as its fpe- 
 cifick Nature is conftituted and diftin- 
 guifh'd by the Properties enumerated in 
 the Definition : But in the firft unreftrain'd 
 Senfe, as it is only a Reprefentatipn of 
 Nature, it is evident, that nothing un- 
 Jikely fhould enter into it ; for whatever 
 is unlikely is unnatural, and for that Rea- 
 fon improbable. We look on every thing 
 incredible, which we judge impoflible : 
 jmpoflible Things, as implying contradicto- 
 ry Terms, are never the Effe&s of Na- 
 ture: Thipgs improbable may fometimes 
 happen by an unufual Concurrence of 
 Caufes, but fince they happen rarely, and 
 when they do, they break the common 
 ourfe of Things and thp Chain of cav 
 Events, they are reckqn'd mon- 
 
 ftrous
 
 EP I CK Po ETRY. 25 
 
 ftrous and unnatural. It is not therefore 
 enough fot the Poet to introduce an In T 
 cident, becaufe it is poffible, and perhaps 
 has fometimes actually come to pafs ; for 
 it may ftill appear incredible to the great? 
 .eft Part, who never faw fuch a furprizing 
 Fa ft, and are uncapable of difcerning the 
 Poffibility of it. The Writer therefore 
 fliould at like prudent Travellers, who 
 forbear in Converfation, to relate fome 
 Matters of Faft, which, tho they fcnow 
 them to be true, yet by their furprizing 
 Novelty, and fome extraordinary Circun> 
 fiances that attend them, they forefee will 
 be look'd on by a vulgar Audience as im- 
 prafticable, and therefore not to be crer 
 dited. Nothing therefore fhould be an 
 integral Part of an Epick Poem, but what 
 is eafy, natural, and probable ; which will 
 be always fo, if nothing is admitted that 
 docs not frequently fall under Obfervation, 
 and is the common Refult of Phyfical and 
 Moral Caufes. 
 
 As the Narration ought to he proba- 
 ble, fo it ought to be only probable, and 
 not actually true ; for fince Poetry, as in 
 many other refpeds, fo in this refembles 
 the Art of Painting, that it always drives 
 to exprefs fome Object, it is very evident, 
 that the Imitation muft be form'd by 4 
 
 devis'd
 
 36 An ESSAY u 
 
 devis'd Probability of A&ions and Circum- 
 ftances, and not a relation of real Events ; 
 for otherwife it would not be an imita- 
 tion of Nature, but Nature it felf. Poe- 
 jry being a Pi&ure of feign'd or real Ob- 
 je&s, Probability, as before aiTcrted, is 
 every where to be prefcrv'd ; and as it 
 fhould exhibit nothing inconfiftent, mon- 
 ftrous, or unnatural, fo it fhould relate no- 
 thing as real ; for that would be a Tranf- 
 greffion on the other Extream, and ut- 
 terly deftroys tne eflential Idea of a Poem. 
 J admit, that a true Faft or Event may 
 enter into the Work, but then it muft not 
 be introduc'd as it is true, but only as it 
 is likely, and bears a Refecnblance to 
 Truth. Hiftory receives and recites Things 
 true, tho they have a face of Improbabi- 
 lity ; and Epick Poetry reje&s nothing falfe, 
 provided it has a probable Appearance. 
 This Property muft (hine in the general 
 Model, in the Contrivance, Symetry, and 
 Connexion, in the Incidents, Epifodes and 
 Digreffions, and in all the integral and 
 ornamental Parts of the Structure ; and 
 by this the Truth appears of what was 
 above afierted, That a true Hiftory, tho 
 composM with all the Advantages that the 
 Art of Poetry can give, will not become 
 a Poem ; for that would be no Reprefen- 
 tation of Nature, but the very Things 
 
 them-
 
 EPICK POETRY. 27 
 
 themfelves, which is inconfiftent with the 
 Notion of fuch a Writing. 
 
 SOON after the Reftauration of Polite 
 Literature in Europe, the Men of elevated 
 and refin'd Parts unhappily contra&ed a 
 falfe Tafte, and grew every where fond of 
 extravagant Romantick Fables, the Origi- 
 naj of which may be thus accounted for, 
 
 THE Egyptians are generally allow'd to 
 have firft cultivated and adorn'd the Under- 
 (landing with Science and liberal Arts ; and 
 that this Nation had made great advances in 
 thefe intellectual Acquifmons fome Ages 
 before that of Mofes, appears by the Cha- 
 racter given to that famous Law-giver in 
 Sacred Hiftory, that he was learned in all 
 the Learning of the Egyptians. Hither as 
 to the Source of Knowledge, for the Im 
 provement of their Minds, Men of great 
 Genius reforted from foreign Countries, 
 particularly Homer, Pythagoras, and P/*to ; 
 as afterwards the neighbouring Nations, for 
 the fame purpofe, frequented Greece. Thefe 
 Sages envelop'd their Knowledge of Philo* 
 fophy in Apologues, Hieroglyphicks, and 
 Symbolical Characters ; as they difguis'd 
 their Sentiments of Theology in Allegories 
 and my ft ical Fables. All Nations, that had 
 any Tafte of Learning, either from imitation 
 
 of
 
 28 An E s s A Y ufm 
 
 of the Egyptians or their own native Im- 
 pulfe, which is more probable, affecled to 
 convey their Inftru&ions by ^Enigmati- 
 cal Difcourfes and Allufions, This ftrong 
 Inclination in Men to exprefs their Senti- 
 ments and communicate their Knowledge 
 by Apologues and Fi&ions, appear'd in the 
 eldeft Days of Letters, and fpread it felf 
 through all the People of the E A/tern World. 
 Not only the Egyptians, but the Arabians, 
 Syrians, and Per fans, propagated their Opi- 
 nions and Inftruftions in myfterious in- 
 vented Fables. At length they devis'd 
 Narrations on the Adventures of Lovers ; 
 which being agreeable to the moft pre- 
 vailing Paflion of the Heart, were receiv'd 
 with Pleafure and much applauded. The 
 Mi/e(fans 9 part of the Ionian Colony tranf- 
 planted from Greece to 4 ft a Minor, a foft 
 and effeminate People, diflblv'd in Luxury 
 and funk in the Dregs of Vice, were the 
 firfr, that invented, or at leaft greatly im- 
 prov'd and encourag'd this kind of Com- 
 pofitions, from them call'd Milefian Fables ; 
 which, as they fprung from the dhTolute 
 Manners of that degenerate People, fo by 
 their immodeft and obfcene Mixtures with 
 which they abounded, they increas'd and 
 heighten'd that general Depravity, from 
 whence they took their Rife. 
 
 THE
 
 EPICK POETRY. 29 
 
 . 'f '.'. i 
 
 THE Milefiaxs therefore Teem to be the 
 firft Inventors of the Art of writing Ro- 
 mances, of which before the Reign of 
 Alexander the Great, there are no Exam- 
 ples. And as thefe amorous Fiftions owe 
 their birth to the moft profligate and vi- 
 cious Nation that ever appear'd on the face 
 of the Earth ; fo they have a great Influ- 
 ence on all People, where they are gene- 
 rally received and applauded, by corrupt- 
 ing their Manners, diflblving their Minds* 
 and deftroying their Tafte of ufeful and 
 folid Learning. 
 
 THE Art of Writing thefe light Fa- 
 bles was foon tranflated from Afta, Minor 
 to Greece, by the Commerce and Corre- 
 fpondence mutually kept up by the loni- 
 Ans of the fame Stock, tho in different 
 Countries. The Grecians receiv'd them 
 with Pleafure, imitated their AfiAn Colo- 
 ny, and carry'd on this Invention to great- 
 er Degrees of Perfection. Heliodorus and 
 Achilles Tatius, two Chriftian Bifhops, en- 
 gag'd their Wit on thefe Subjects : And 
 the Writing of the firft is not only chafte 
 and free from the impure and lafcivious 
 Blemifhes of the Miltfun Stories ; but it 
 is more perfect for its Incidents, Contri- 
 vance, and Probability : Whence it be- 
 came
 
 go An E s s A T upon 
 
 came the Model on which the niimerotfs 
 Authors of Romances in following Times 
 form'd themfelves, as the Poets imitated 
 that of Homer. 
 
 THIS Contagion greatly prevail'd, and 
 eminent Men for Wit and Learning became 
 fond of being Authors of fuch amorous WrU 
 tings, which Inclination the more ufeful Im- 
 provements and feverer Studies of Philofo- 
 phy and Polite Literature in Greece and Rome 
 could not extinguifh. Pcrfbn? of a warm 
 Imagination and poetical Genius, apply'd 
 themfelves with as much Zeal and Dili- 
 gence to the compiling of thefe pleafing 
 Romances, as the Philofophers did to the 
 Advancement of Natural and Moral Sci- 
 ence ; and as much outrival'd them in 
 the Number of their Admirers, as the Pro- 
 ductions of Wit on amorous Subjects are 
 receiv'd with more relifh by the greateft 
 part of Mankind, than the dry and diffi- 
 cult Speculations of the Schools of the 
 Sages. 
 
 AT length, after the Irruptions of the 
 Goths and VAndtds had broke the Power 
 of the Roman Empire, who carry 'd their 
 Arms and their Ignorance over the politer 
 and more enlighten'd Parts of Europe ; the 
 Learning of Greece and Rome, that flou- 
 * rifh'd
 
 EPICK POETRY. 31 
 
 rifh'd there, was intirely effac'd by the 
 Rudenefs and Barbarity of the Northern 
 Conquerors. As foon as Knowledge be* 
 gan to break through this total Eclipfe, 
 and before Letters, under the Dire&ion 
 and Encouragement of eminent Patrons, 
 rofe to a greater height, it made its firft 
 publick Entrance into Europe by amorous 
 Songs and Fables, like thofeof thQ Mile/fans ; 
 and thefe were cultivated and advanced 
 much fooner than Philofophy, Mathcma- 
 ticks, and Claflick Learning. They began 
 in Provence about the fixth Century, if the 
 JrabtAn Moors did not bring them into Spain, 
 from whence thefe Natives of Provence, as 
 fome imagine, deriv'd them. This way of 
 Writing having taken the firft PofTeflion of 
 the World after the Reftauration of exiPd 
 Learning, Europe every where was fill'd 
 with thefe Romantick Stories. The Wits 
 of thefe Ages were feiz'd with an irregu- 
 lar Poetick Phrenzy, and having Decency 
 and Probability in Contempt, fill'd the 
 World with endlefs Abfurdities ; their fer- 
 tile Imaginations perpetually brought forth 
 fome new deform'd and frightful Produ- 
 ctions. Phantaftick Giants and imaginary 
 Heroes, who made no difficulty of work- 
 ing a thoufand Miracles, daily iflu'd from 
 the Prefs. In fhort, all Europe on a fudden 
 faw it felf chang'd into Fatrj-Land, re- 
 
 plenifh'd
 
 52 An Ess A y 
 
 plenifh'd with Monfters and Necromari- 
 cers, Caftles, Palaces, and delicious Gardens^ 
 and many other incredible Effects of Ma- 
 gick Power* Befides this, one every where 
 met with extravagant Knights ftroling 
 after Adventures, and unguarded Ladies 
 rambling after their Lovers. And hence 
 it came to^pafs, that the modern Writers 
 of Epick Poetry, who were train'd up 
 from their Youth in extravagant Roman- 
 ces and improbable and monftrous Narra- 
 tions, which were the Subjects of all Con- 
 verfation, and the moft fafhionable and 
 applauded way of Writing, lay under art 
 invincible Temptation to accommodate 
 themfelves to theRelifh of the Times, by 
 mingling in their Epick Compofitions fo 
 great an Allay of Knight-Errantry and ex- 
 travagant Adventures. While this fort 
 of Writing was in fafhion, the Imaginati- 
 ons of the modern Poets, who were the befi 
 qualify 'd to attempt the fublime Manner, 
 imbib'd a ftrong Tinfture of the Roman- 
 tick Contagion, which corrupted their 
 Tafte, and occafion'd their negleft of Pro- 
 bability. The Age was fo far gone in this 
 Delufion, that the beft Writers could not 
 free their Minds from the prepofleflion 
 which they lay under. Hence it came to 
 pafs, that there is fo great a Mixture of 
 Knight-Errantry, Sorcery, and incredible 
 
 Atchieve-
 
 EPIGK POETRY. 
 
 Atchievements in the Poems of 
 Taffo, and our famous Spenfer ; who, not- 
 \vithftanding they had the Precepts of 
 Artfotle and Horace, and the Examples of 
 Homer and Virgil back'd with Reafon to 
 direct their Conduct, were caught in 
 the general Infection of the Times, and 
 accommodated their Writings to the pre^ 
 vailing Opinion ; by which they tranf- 
 grefs'd one efTential Rule of Poetry, I 
 mean, Probability : For Poetry being an 
 Imitation of Nature, that can never be 
 a regular Performance* which reprefents 
 Things that never did or can exift, and 
 therefore are unnatural and not to be imi- 
 tated* 
 
 Of the MARVELLOUS. 
 
 ANOTHER thing indifpenfably requir'd 
 " to the Conftitmion of an Epick Poem 
 is, that the Narration be marvellous ; and 
 the Reafon is, that when the Poet intends 
 to give Delight and convey Inftruftion, as 
 Admiration engages Attention, fo it pre- 
 pares and opens the Mind to admit the 
 force of the Poet's Sentiments, and receive 
 from them deep Impreflions. Hence the 
 beautiful and furprizing Turns, as well in 
 the DicYion as the Incidents of a noble 
 Poem, ftrike the Imagination with reiift- 
 D lefs
 
 34 dn ESSAY 
 lefs Force, break in upon the Soul and ex- 
 eke generous and divine Paffions fuitabJe 
 to the Subjeft. This therefore is a necef- 
 fary Property, by which the Poet is qua* 
 lify'd to gain his principal End, which is 
 to afford Pleafure afld Inftruftion ; and 1 is 
 a peculiar and infeparabfe Charafter,, that 
 limits, the general Nature of Poetry, and 
 makes the Epick differ from the Tragick, 
 to which however it is more nearly allyM 
 than to any other Specks. 
 
 A LI, Things excite Admiration that 
 cither tranfcend the Sphere of finite Acti- 
 vity, or that break the ufual Series of Na- 
 tural Caufes and Events. The firftfort, 
 which proceed from Almighty Power, are 
 ftil'd Miraclss : I fliall not here by a ftrift 
 Difquifition, enter into the Nature and 
 Definition of a Miracle, which fome look 
 upon as an immediate Effecl: of unli- 
 mited Might, and others as an Action 
 which the Spectators believe the Supream 
 Being to be the Author of, while they are 
 unable to account for any Natural Caufe, 
 from whence it fhould ariie. It is enough^ 
 that in this Place, I give this Idea of it, 
 That it is a prefumptive, immediate Ope- 
 ration of Divine Powr. The other fort 
 of Effects that move Admiration, do not 
 furmount the Limits of created Activi- 
 ty,
 
 EPICK POETRY. 35 
 
 ty, but proceed from fecond fubordinate 
 Caufes ; yet then they interrupt the ordi- 
 nary Courfe of Things, and deviate from 
 the eftablifh'd Cuftom or Laws of Nature. 
 
 SOME of thefe irregular Productions 
 are monftrous and frightful, and ftrike the 
 Imagination with Difguft and Terror, 
 and others are Sports of Nature, which 
 are often pleafing and beautiful Errors : 
 Other Things raite our Admiration by their 
 fingular and extraordinary Perfection ; fo 
 exquifite and confummate Beauty, extra- 
 ordinary Strength and Agility of Body, as 
 well as the finifh'd Pieces and Inventions 
 of the molt excellent Matters in Painting, 
 Building, and Polite Literature, became 
 they furpafs their own ordinary Perfor- 
 mances and thofe of other Artifts, fill the 
 Mind with agreeable Amazement. Other 
 Objects, tho not irregular, nor more or 
 lefs perfect than the ordinary Individuals 
 of their Species, are marvellous, becaufe 
 they feldom come to pafs. We view a 
 Planet or a Star without Concern or Emo- 
 tion of Mind, while the fight of a Comet 
 raifes our Admiration ; not by its being a 
 more excellent Luminary, but by its un- 
 frequent Appearance. Our Wonder is like- 
 wife mov'd by common Objects repre- 
 fented in uncommon Circumftances ; as 
 D 2 for
 
 56 An Es SAY ufon 
 
 for Inftance, the Sun when eclips'd, For- 
 reigners in a ftrange Habit, the Shells of 
 Fifties found on the Tops of Mountains, 
 and Trees and Nutfhels difcover'd in the 
 Bowels of the Earth. 
 
 IT is in the Novelty of thefe Appear- 
 ances, that the eflential Idea of Marvel- 
 lous does confift.. Any thing is therefore 
 admirable, becaufe it is furprizing, and 
 therefore furprizing becaufe extraordinary 
 and unexpected. All unufual Occurrences, 
 efpecially the Excurfions and Tranfgreflions 
 of Nature in her Operations, move the 
 Imagination with great Force, agitate the 
 Spirits, and raife in the Soul ftrong Emo- 
 tions, which by degrees diminith after long 
 Acquaintance ; and as Familiarity wears 
 off our Abhorrence and reconciles us to 
 frightful Objecls, fo it abates the Pleafure 
 of conftant Enjoyments, and by degrees 
 creates Satiety. Exquifite Mufick, delici- 
 ous Gardens, magnificent Buildings, and 
 ravifhing Profpects, after long PofTeflion, 
 do not excite that delightful Wonder 
 which it produces in thofe who are unac- 
 cuftom'd to them. Novelty, as before af- 
 ferted, is the Parent of Admiration ; and 
 it is for this reafoo, that the Sentiments 
 in Epick Poetry, which by their Beauty, 
 Strength and Dignity, are rais'd above 
 
 the
 
 Epi C K Po ETRY. 37 
 
 the Level of vulgar Conceptions, and 
 are always new, either in themfelves or 
 the uncommon Turn given to them by 
 the Poet, aft powerfully upon the Imagi- 
 nation, and furprize the Soul with pleafing 
 Aftonifliment. And hence likewife it is, 
 that the rich, fplendid, and figurative Di- 
 ftion, which is proper to that Species of 
 Poetry, like the Magnificence and Pomp 
 of Princes on folemn Occafions, excites 
 the Wonder of the People not inur'd to 
 iuch Profpe&s. 
 
 Of the FABLE. 
 
 T 
 
 O form a Poem capable of raifing Admi- 
 ration, muft confpire a Fable contriv'd 
 with Art and Judgment, a natural Subor- 
 dination, and a juft Proportion of the Parts 
 mutually inlightning and fupporting each 
 other, and the Regularity, Beauty, and 
 Importance of the Incidents resulting, 
 without conftraint, from the Subject. Be- 
 fides this, the principal Perfons muft be of 
 illuftrious Blood or high Station, the Afti- 
 on of great Confequence, the Turns ftrange 
 and furprizing, the Sentiments ftrong, no- 
 ble, and elevated; the Stile figurative and 
 lofty, the Diftion fplendid and magnifi- 
 cent, and the Machines proper and perti- 
 nent. Should the Structure of the Poem 
 D want
 
 
 38 An Es s AY ufon 
 
 want Unity or Integrity ; fbould the Adi- 
 on be of little Moment, the Chara&ers of 
 mean Rank and Condition, the Expref- 
 fion low and poor, the Stile bafe and ru- 
 ftick, or fwoln into the falfe Sublime ; 
 fhould the Incidents be trivial, theThoughts 
 weak and vulgar, the Turns in the Aaion 
 obvious and familiar; or fhould the Ma- 
 chines be omitted or ill chofen, or unfea- 
 fonable, the Performance would be con- 
 temptible, and more apt to move Laugh- 
 ter than Admiration: And if it be de- 
 fective in any of thefe Qualities, the Beau- 
 ty and Dignity of the Poem will in pro- 
 portion be diminifh'd, and become unca- 
 pable of raifing Wonder and Delight. 
 
 THEREFORE the Criticks in a pecu- 
 liar manner require in the Poet, that un- 
 dertakes this difficult Province, an eleva- 
 ted, inventive and enterprizing Imagination 
 arifing from an inborn Fire, that impels 
 and agitates the Soul with great Vehe- 
 mence, heightens and inflames the Spirits, 
 and kindles a Heat that approaches to the 
 Nature of Fury and Phrenzy ; whence the 
 Ancients affirm'd, That poetical Raptures 
 were the Effe&s of Infpiration and Divine 
 Impulfe. 
 
 THQ
 
 EPICK Po ETRY. 39 
 
 TH o this inbred Endowment is abfb- 
 iutely, and in the firft place, neceiTary to 
 the Poet, a cool and fevere Judgment nluft 
 however hold the Reins, and predde over 
 this warm and hardy Imagination, to guide 
 its Motions, and prevent its Errors, which 
 otherwife would be numerous and unavoid- 
 ble; and fmce this happy Temperament 
 is feldom found, where two contrary Hie- 
 ments, Fire and Phlegm, of which each 
 is demanded in a high Degree, are recon- 
 ciPd, and fo blended and united, as to 
 conftitute a Genius capable of this fub- 
 lime Species of Poetry, it is no wonder 
 that few Perfons have attempted it, and 
 that fewer have fucceeded in their Under- 
 taking. 
 
 THE Genius's fit for Epick Poetry are 
 conftituted and divided into various forts, 
 as poetick Energy and Imagination, or 
 Judgment and a true Tafte of Propriety 
 and Beauty are predominant in the Mind. 
 From the firft Mixture comes forth a Ho* 
 mer, by the fecondisa produc'd a Virgil ' 
 and if thefe Endowments fhould happen to 
 be equally mix'd and ballanc'd in the ori- 
 ginal Conftitution of any great Poet, a 
 third Species would be form'd. Homer 
 and Virgil are two different Genius's of 
 D 4 Nature's
 
 4-0 . An ESSAY 
 Nature's own making, abftrafting froni 
 the Improvements and Advantages that 
 arife from Learning, from Obfervation of 
 the Works of eminent Writers, from a 
 greater Comprehenfion of the Properties 
 in an Epick Poem, and an accurate Know- 
 ledge of the Rujes of Writing. If Homer r , 
 after he had finifh'd his 7//W, could have 
 acquir'd the Erudition and Skill of Virgil^ 
 his Genius would have been ft ill the fame, 
 tho more refin'd, better govern'd, and 
 more adorn'd by adventitious Embellifh- 
 ments ; as an exquifite Beauty is the fame, 
 when at one time flie appears in a wild 
 and carelefs Drefs, and at another is fet 
 off with the greateft Art and the richeft 
 Ornaments. K/rg/7and Homer are not there- 
 fore two different Genius's, becaufe the 
 Latin Author has more Learning, and is a 
 greater Mafter of the Rules of Poetry, that 
 is, is a better Critick than the Grecian 
 'but their diftincl: Characters arife from the 
 different Combination of the unacquir'd 
 Qualities and Powers of the Mind, while 
 in one poetical Heat and Infpiration, and 
 in the other, Judgment a,r.d Difcretion 
 evidently prevail. 
 
 Of
 
 EPI CK Po ETRY. 44 
 
 Of the ALLEGORY. 
 
 T T is likewife requir'd of an Epick Poem, 
 * that it fhould be Allegorical. By an AL 
 legory is fometimes underftood a ContU 
 nuation of Metaphors in the Writing, by 
 which it is rais'd above vulgar Expreffion ; 
 and this is neceffary to the Species of Poe- 
 try, of which we are difcourfing : For 
 tho it ought to abound with all manner of 
 beautiful and moving Figures, yet the Stile 
 chiefly is elevated above ordinary Conver- 
 fation, and the Di&ion of Philofophers and 
 Hiftorians, by a Series of metaphorical 
 Words and Sentences through the whole 
 Work, as oft as the Subject will bear it ; 
 whence the Expreffion becomes fplendid and 
 admirable. Thefe elegant and furprizing 
 Figures enrich, warm, and animate plain 
 and cold Sentences, till they glow with 
 Life and Spirit, and appear in all the 
 Charms of Eloquence. 
 
 B u T an Allegory is fometimes taken in 
 another Senfe, that is, whenVertues and 
 Vices are reprefented as Perfons either Hu- 
 mane or Divine, and proper Paflions and 
 Manners are afchb'd to their refpe&ive 
 Chara&ers : Of this are feveral Examples 
 in Homer\ TJfyjJes, aqd too many in the 
 
 modern
 
 4^ An ESSAY upon 
 
 modern Epick Writers, and there is one 
 Inftance of this fort in the fixth Book of 
 King Arthur. In the firft Senfe an Hero* 
 ick Poem cannot be too Allegorical, that 
 is, too Figurative in thofe Parts, which 
 require, or at leaft will endure to be rais'd 
 from a flat and low Manner by the Orna- 
 ments of furprizing Metaphors, beautiful 
 Similitudes, and iuft Allufions. But in 
 the fecond Senfe, the modern Epick Poets, 
 efpecially Ariofto and Sfenfer, have ran too 
 far into Allegory. This fort of allegori- 
 cal Imaging refembles the emblematical 
 Draughts of great Painters, where Ver- 
 tues are reprefented as GoddelTes, and 
 Vices as Furies; and where Liberty, Peace, 
 Plenty, Pleafure, and various Qualities of 
 the Mind are exhibited in Humane Forms, 
 with peculiar Properties and Marks of 
 Diftinftion. An elegant Inftance of this 
 kind of Writing is the Reprefentation of 
 Sin and Death in the appearance of two 
 odious and terrible Monfters, by our cele- 
 brated Milton in his Paradife Lofl ; of 
 which, I imagine, he took the Hint from 
 the famous Spenfer. This fort of Allego- 
 ries, tha not ftri&ly Epick, us'd with 
 Temperance and Judgment, affect the 
 Mind with Wonder and Delight, and en- 
 liven and beautify the Poem. There is 
 yet a third fort of Allegory, which if it is 
 
 not
 
 EPICK POETRY. 43 
 
 not effcntial, is however very agreeable in 
 jEpick Writings, and render them more 
 perfect; which is, when the chief Aftors, 
 efpccially the principal Hero, are made the 
 Types of fome other illuftrioqs Perfons, 
 whofe A&ions and Manners are fhadow'd 
 forth by the Qualities of thofe that aft in 
 the Poem ; and in this Cafe the artful dif- 
 guife fhould be drawn fo thin, that the 
 real Characters in the View and Intention 
 of the Poet may appear underneath, and 
 be feen with eafe through the tranfparent 
 Veil ; as in the firft fort of Allegory, which 
 confifts in a Train of Metaphors, the Senfe 
 is foreign and different from the direft and 
 ufual Meaning of the Words!; fo jn this, 
 the Perfons really intended are different 
 from the Perfons of the Poem, whofc 
 A&ions and Manners are there exhibited* 
 
 THUS the Roman Emperor, Auguflus^ 
 is reprefented under the Character of the 
 Trojan Hero, jeas, in the famous Poem 
 of rirgily by which he is faid to have paid 
 him the greateft Complement that was 
 ever made to any Prince : And it is not 
 improbable, that Homer > in his Iliad, de- 
 fign'd to honour fome great Perfons then 
 flourishing in Greece^ under the allegorical 
 Chara&ers of AgAmemnon^ Achilles^ Diome* 
 dts, and the other principal Aftors in that 
 
 Poem,
 
 44 dn ESSAY 
 
 Poem, tho by the diftance of Time we 
 cannot trace the Allufion ; for it is not 
 likely that Virgil^ who is fo exat an Imi- 
 tator of Homer -, would have attempted to 
 have writ in this way, if Homer had not 
 encourag'd and directed him by his Ex- 
 ample, 
 -ii'j !i,;i'4*i Sfn 2**^ 2ifr* n? *- ; f>ci ,* ';- % x. 
 
 IN this Cafe the Poet fhould take care, 
 that the diftinguifliing Accomplifhments 
 and great Exploits of his principal Hero 
 fhould be fo delineated, that in the Series 
 of the Actions and Manners, and the Allu- 
 fions and Incidents of the Poem, the in- 
 tended great Man fhould be plainly point- 
 ed out. Thus the typical Hero is intro- 
 duc'd at once to conceal and difcover the 
 real one, who is lightly difguis'd, that he 
 may be fhown to greater Advantage. 
 To bear downright upon an excellent Per- 
 fon with Applaufe, is bold and ill-man- 
 ner'd, and for that Reafon difagreeable and 
 fhocking to Men of Tafte and Judgment. 
 The Epick Poet therefore exhibits the Per- 
 fon whofe Praifes he defigns to celebrate 
 under another illuftrious Character, that 
 by this means he may break the Violence, 
 and correct the Rudenefs of bare-fac'd 
 Commendation, and that the Panegyrick 
 thus qualify'd may fhine through the alle- 
 gorical Cloud with milder and more agree- 
 able Luftre. IN
 
 EPICK POETRY. 45 
 
 IN. this Place ifliallaflert the Liberty 
 of Reafon, and endeavour to fhew that in 
 this, which likewife is true in fome other 
 Inftances, the admirable Poem of Virgil* 
 for no Humane Works that are extant are 
 free from blemifhes, is defeftive, which 
 however in the Contrivance, Conduct, and 
 Di&ion, is the moft finifh'd of the kind ; 
 and perhaps the Time may come, when 
 the learned World may bear an impartial 
 Examination of the Writers of the moft 
 eftabliftTd Authority, and not condemn 
 every thing that deviates from the Precepts 
 of Ariflotle^ and the Examples of Virgil and 
 Homer, as poetical Herefy. 
 
 'T i s evident that this excellent Author 
 intended, as before mention'd, to celebrate 
 the great Prince above-nam'd under his 
 Typical Hero, JLneAs. But as the general 
 Character of Piety is not, I imagine, per- 
 fectly drawn, particularly in his behaviour 
 to Dido, and his interefting the Gods in the 
 difhonourable Ufage of that Queen, after 
 her obliging Reception of himlelf and his 
 fhipwreck'd Companions ; which never fails 
 to move the Reader's Pity to the injur'd 
 Lady, or to make the ungallant Hero the 
 Object of his Cenfure and Refentment ; fo 
 neither is this Charafter of Piety perhaps 
 
 fo
 
 46 An E s s A r < 
 
 fo well accommodated to the Qualities of 
 Auguflits Cie/ar, if authentick Hiftorians 
 rnay be creaked. But fuppofe this gene- 
 ral Idea does bear a fimilitude to the Dif- 
 pofition and Habits of that Monarch, there 
 are very few Particulars in the Poem that 
 carry any Refemblance between ALneas 
 and the typify'd Hero, or that put the 
 Reader at any time in mind of fach a Per- 
 fon. There are no peculiar Manners of 
 Auguftn$, nof any of his great Actions 
 or Exploits fbadow'd forth by thofe of 
 Mneas\ none of his Battles, Expeditions, 
 Dangers, or Succefles, reprefented or al* 
 hnkd to in the whole Story of the Trojatfs 
 Hazards and martia! Atchievements, no, 
 not the famous Sea Fight at Aftium, which 
 crowr/d afl the Labours of Attgnflus^ and 
 ftabhih'd him in the Poffeflion of the 
 Roman Empire, tho nothing was more me- 
 fifiorabk and important, and therefore no- 
 thing more pertinent or ornamental could 
 have been introduc'd into the Poem, as 
 might have been done with great eafe. 
 
 THE Fights and Adventures in the 
 might have ferv'd as well for any 
 " "rft 
 
 Other Hero as for Augustus : The firi 
 feem to be Hour's Battles fought over 
 again in Ifalj, and not appropriated to the 
 Emperor. The Army of ALntAs^ 
 
 with
 
 EFICK PoEtaY. 47 
 
 With which he made his Defcent upon L*- 
 tium, is composM of many of the fame 
 Warriors, who were engag'd at the Siege 
 of Troy, and thofe too not Trojans, which 
 would have made it more excufable, but 
 Grecians, their victorious Enemies. This 
 Inadvertency will appear to any, who (hall 
 attentively read the Battels in Virgil^ and 
 compare them with thofe of Homer. The 
 truth is, that while Virgil was contemplat- 
 ing Homer, after whom he copy'd, he was 
 fo intent on the Grecians Model, and fo 
 careful to follow him in every Part of his 
 Foem, that he forgot his own Hero. 
 
 Of the UNITY. 
 
 TT is requirM in the Definition of an 
 * Epick Poem, that it fhould be the Nar- 
 ration of forne one Aftion. One principal 
 End muft be defign'd by the Author, and 
 the Contrivance, Difpofition, and Depen- 
 dence of the Parts muft be fuch, that all 
 trie Incidents and inferior A&ions may evi- 
 dently conduce to the comparing of the 
 main Event. From the Order and Con- 
 nexion of the Parts confpiring in their Pla- 
 ces to promote the chief Defign, ariles the 
 Unity of the A&ion, on which depends 
 the Unity of the Poem : For if any Part is 
 co-ordinate and not fubfervient to the prin- 
 * cipal
 
 48 An Es s AY upon 
 
 cipal Aim of the Poet, the Unity of the 
 Action is broken, and the Work is no 
 longer one Piece, but becomes as many 
 diftinct Poems or Fragments of Poems, as 
 there are found unconnected and indepen- 
 dent Actions. The two laft Books of the 
 Iliad are therefore fuperfluous and out of 
 the Poem, becaufe the Celebration of the 
 Funerals of Pamelas and Hetfor, which 
 are there recited, came after the main De- 
 fign was attain'd, and the principal Action 
 was ended. 
 
 Of the IMPORTANCE of the Addon. 
 
 AS the principal Action ought to be 
 " one, fo it ought to be important; 
 the Reafon is, that it may excite Admira- 
 tion, which is effential, as before has been 
 Ihown, to this Species of Poetry. By this 
 Property it is like wife difiinguifh'd from 
 Comedy, where the Characters are infe- 
 rior and the Action of little Confequence. 
 Eoffu requires no more to render the Acti- 
 on important, than that it fhould be the 
 Action of an illuftrious Perfon, to which 
 I cannot agree ; becaufe great Men may 
 fometimes, for their Recreation and Di- 
 yerfion, or worfe Purpofes, be taken, up 
 in mean and trivial Matters. If the Em- 
 peror Commons fhould be introduc'd fight* 
 * ing
 
 EPICK POETRY. 49 
 
 ing as a Gladiator in the Amphitheater, 
 or DomitUn as engag'd in his darling Plea- 
 fure of chaceing Flies, the Dignity of the 
 Actors would by no means render the 
 Action important ; I conceive therefore, 
 that to give Importance to the Action, it 
 is not only neceflary that the Actor fhould 
 be a Perfon of Diftinction for his noble 
 Extraction or high Employment, but that 
 the Action related fhould be of great Con- 
 fequence in it felf, and fuch as becomes an 
 illuftrious Actor. 
 
 THE Criticks have univerfally declar'd 
 their Opinion, that the chief Hero of an 
 Epick Poem ought to be engag'd in fome 
 eminent Action ; but this, I imagine, is 
 from their following, in a fervile manner, 
 the Dictates of the Stagyrite, and the Ex- 
 amples of the Iliad and the JLneid. I have, 
 in the Preface to the Paraphrafe on Job, 
 advanc'd a contrary Pofition, and endea- 
 vour'd to prove, that the principal Cha- 
 racter of the Poem may be as well unactive 
 and in a State of Suffering and Calamity. 
 It is evident, that none of thefe Criticks 
 have enquir'd into the Grounds and Foun- 
 dation of this Maxim, That the Hero muft 
 be always a fighting, or at leait, an active 
 Perfon : They have, from one Generation 
 to another, taken this Aflertion upon con- 
 E tent,
 
 5-0 An ESSAY ufm 
 
 tent, and rely'd upon a continu'd Chain 
 and uninterrupted Succeflion of Authority 
 down from Arijlotlis Days to the prefent 
 Age, without examining the Matter, or 
 offering any Reafon to fuppoit their Doc- 
 trine. Setting then afide the Veneration 
 of great Names and the Authority of the 
 Schpols, I appeal to the Tribunal and 
 decifive Decrees of lleafon. I have in 
 the Work above- mention'd denaonftrated, 
 that the principal End and all the effen- 
 tial Properties of an Epick Writing may 
 be attain'd, tho the chief Perfon fhould be 
 an eminent Sufferer, and no Battle fhould 
 be fought through all the Poem. As much 
 Divine Inftruclion relating to Providence, 
 to the Encouragements and Rewards of 
 Vertue, and the terrible Confequences of 
 Irreligion and Vice ; as great and illuftrious 
 Examples of Piety, Fortitude, andHeroick 
 Firmnefs of Mind ; as noble and ufeful 
 Morals, and as fublime Sentiments, all 
 fit to infpire the Reader with excellent 
 Notions, to excite the moft generous Paf- 
 fions, and to produce the moft vertuous 
 Refolutions, may be found in fuch a Poem, 
 as well as in that which is full of Aftion 
 and martial Atchievements. And where 
 this principal End of an Epick Poem may 
 be attain'd, and the Characleriltick and 
 dTenrial Difference, with all the concomi- 
 tant
 
 EPICK POETRY. 5* 
 
 tant and inseparable Properties of it may 
 be found, as they may be, where no Camps 
 arefbrm'd, nor any Armies engag'd, why 
 this fhould not be denominated a genuine 
 Epick Poem, I am not able to imagine. ; 
 and on this Plan I take Homer's Vljjfes to 
 be form'd. Befides> kt it be eonfider'tf, 
 that many excellent Tragedies have been 
 composed by the Ancients^ as well as Mo- 
 derns, where the Hero or Heroine of the 
 Poem has beep paffive and unhappy ; and 
 why Nature in this Inftance, may not 
 with equal right be imitated by the Epick 
 Poet, J believe is difficult to aifign * 
 Reafon. 
 
 IF this arguing be allow'd^ then the 
 Criticks will have no occafion to exercife 
 their Sagacity, in finding out the Hero of 
 Milton's Poem; for then it will be evi* 
 dent, that it mult have been Adam him- 
 felf. Nothing could have tempted learn- 
 ed Men to have fearch'd after any other 
 Hero, but the Prepoffeffion under which 
 they lay, that the chief Perfon of the 
 Poem ought always to be active, and in 
 the end profperous : But by what has been, 
 alledg'd I imagine, that Prejudice may be 
 remov'd; and under this view that cele- 
 brated Poem will appear more regular and 
 perfect than it has hitherto been allow'd 
 E 2 to
 
 51 An Ess AY upon 
 
 to be. Another Reafon why they are 
 not willing to allow Adam to be the Hero 
 of the Poem is this, That they believe the 
 Idea of a Hero implies illuftrious Vertue 
 as well as military Fortitude ; but this 
 Error is occafion'd, by confounding the 
 Notions of a Moral and a Poetical Hero; 
 the firft is always a Perfon of regular and 
 vertuous Manners, but the other may be a 
 flagitious, unjuft, and cruel Man ; nothing 
 being requir'd in his Character, but that 
 he fhould be pertinent and neceflfary in 
 the Fable ; that is, that he fhould emi- 
 nently ferve to bring about the principal 
 End, whence fome ufeful and inftru&ive 
 Moral (hall arife : But more of this after- 
 wards. 
 
 Of the EPISODES. 
 
 "IT is demanded in an EpickPoem, that 
 A the Recital of the Action fhould be ex- 
 tended by Epifodes. An Epifode at firft 
 was nothing but an Action inter pos'd to di- 
 verfify the Pleafure of the Audience, and 
 relieve the Satiety of the Tragedy, which 
 then entirely confided in Mufick ; and an 
 Epifode had its Name from being fome- 
 thing fuperadded to it. At the beginning 
 only one, afterwards more fuch Actions, 
 bearing relation however to the Tragedy, 
 
 were
 
 EPICK POETRY. 53 
 
 were introduc'd ; till by degrees the Epi- 
 fodes, which before were foreign and fu- 
 perfluous, became the whole Poem, and 
 the Mufick was retain'd only in the Cho- 
 rus. The Epifodes then, or Incidents, are 
 the integral Parts of the Poem, which con- 
 fider'd as united, make up the Matter 
 that is efTential to the Conftitution of the 
 Work; and if taken fingly the Abfenceof 
 any one would leave it mutilated and de- 
 
 THE Connexion and mutual Depen- 
 dance of the Epifodes are fo neceflary to 
 make the whole one Adion, that where 
 thofe are wanting the Poem is imperfect 
 and vicious, its Unity being broken ; and 
 as oft as this happens the Incident is no 
 part of the Structure, but ftands by it felf 
 as a divided Piece or Outwork, detach'd 
 and feparate from the Building : And 
 therefore, as Rapin obferves, the Epifode 
 of the Voyage of Telemachus in the Odjffes y 
 which has no relation to the main Action, 
 and contributes nothing to the Return of 
 Vfyjfes, or the Events that follow'd it, is 
 fuperfluous, and no integral part of the 
 Work. The Poet has fcarce enter'd upon 
 his Subject when he takes his leave of it, 
 and for four Books together entirely lofes 
 fight of his principal Defign. Several o- 
 E 3 ther
 
 54 <&> ESSAY upon 
 therlnftances of this Nature might be cited 
 out of the Poems of that admirable Wri- 
 ter, which, notwithftandingthe Authority 
 of his Example, cannot be juftify'd ; for 
 k is evident, that having no Union or Cor- 
 refpondence with the other Epifodes, nor 
 any Influence on the chief A&ion, they 
 make fo many Chafms or Breaks in the 
 Poem, and therefore mutt be impertinent. 
 Nor ran this Pradicebe vindicated, by al- 
 ledging, that this loofe manner of Writing 
 is agreeable to the Cuftorn and Tafte, not 
 only of the Eajter* World, but of the moft 
 eminent Poets of Greece, efpecially P/W<o\ 
 who, not felicitous about Tranfitions and 
 Connexions, frequently ftart from their 
 main Defign, and without any warning 
 or preparation, abruptly purfue a foreign 
 and unexpected Mttter, till tir'd with the 
 long ana independent Digreflion, they 
 fomerimes return to their Subject, and 
 ibmetifnes entirely forget it. And in this 
 they are imitated by Horace in his Odes y 
 who on a fudden fprings from his Theme, 
 and follows another Chafe, neither very 
 pertinent, nor of a fuitable Proportion : 
 tho theic Exourfions are perhaps lefs 
 blameable in the great Lyrick, where the 
 Stile is more paffionate, rapid, and vio* 
 leat. Jf the Beauty and Perfection of a 
 poetical Frame, according to the uncon- 
 
 tefted
 
 EPI CK Po ETRY. 55 
 
 tefted Doftrine of the Criticks, arife from 
 the Regularity, Union, and juft Length of 
 the Parts, then I fhall always believe that 
 Defect and Deformity will naturally re- 
 fult from Diforder, Incoherence, and la- 
 equality : Nor can I give into the contrary 
 Opinion, tho prefs'd by the Example of 
 the greateft Writers, while the Dictates 
 of Reafon condemn their Practice. 
 
 IF any Epifodes exceed a due Propor- 
 tion, or if they are extended too far, or 
 are too fhort, tho the Unity of the Acti- 
 on is preferv'd, yet the Symetry of the 
 Work is blemifti'd according to the De- 
 gree of fuch Excefs or Defeft in the length 
 of the Parts. And here I fhall take no. 
 tice, that the Epifode which takes up the 
 fecond and third Book of Prince Arthur, 
 which how ncceffary foever it is to carry 
 on the main Action, fwells to a difpro- 
 portionate Size, and is therefore obnoxi^ 
 ous to Cenfure. This I well knew when 
 I writ that Poem, but becaufe the Subject 
 was of fuch Dignity, Ufefulnefs, and Im- 
 portance, I deliberately fuffer'd that De- 
 fecl to continue, for the fake of a greater 
 Advantage to the Work. 
 
 T H'E Criticks allow Virgil to annihilate 
 
 Time, and* fink above 200 Years upon his 
 
 E 4 Reader,
 
 5 6 An ESSAY upon 
 
 Reader, that jRveas and Dido may become 
 Contemporaries, and that the Poet by this 
 means jnight have a Foundation for the 
 Epifode of the fecond Book, which how- 
 ever does not add any Beauty, as be- 
 fore fuggefted, unlefs Ingratitude and the 
 want of Gallantry in ALwas to a Queen, 
 to whom in his Diftrefs he had been fo 
 highly oblig'd, and his charging upon Hea- 
 ven his faulty Behaviour, can adorn a 
 Poem : And if this Maxim be eftabliflfd, 
 that an Author with a Defign to introduce 
 a greater Beauty, may be allow'd to com- 
 mit fome inferior Error, then much more 
 may a Poet be jultify'd, who, for the fake 
 of a confiderable moral Good, tranfgrefles 
 a Rule of lefs Importance, which he would 
 otherwife have obferv'd ; fince that Bene- 
 fit will better bear him out in doing fo, 
 than the mere Entertainment and Diver- 
 iion of his Reader. 
 
 BESIDES this fort of Epifodes, which, 
 taken as united integral Parts, conftitute 
 the whole Matter of the Fable, there are 
 other Parts calPd by the fame Name, 
 which for diftin&ion fake I will ftile Di- 
 greilions. Thefe do not neceflarily and 
 immediately grow from the main Action, 
 but refult from fome Incident, by which 
 it is united to the Body of the Fable. 
 
 Thcfe
 
 EPI CK Po ET-KY. 57 
 
 Thefe Digreffions, which perhaps beft de- 
 ferve the Appellation of Epifodes, are not 
 indeed neceflary to the Being nor the Inte- 
 grity of the Poem, but they add to it 
 Beauty and Ornament ; they refemble the 
 Hair on a Man's Head and Eye-Brows, 
 and the Leaves and the Bloffoms of a 
 Tree, which fpring from the integral 
 Parts of the Individual, tho they are not 
 fuch themfelves, and without which the 
 Eflence is preferv'd intire, tho naked, and 
 in a manner deform'd. If thefe Digref- 
 fions are forc'd and unnatural, that is, if 
 they do not evidently arife from fome In- 
 cident or Epifode of the A&ion, by the 
 Mediation of which they are connected to 
 the Poem, they are no more a part of it, 
 than a Worm is of an Animal, to which 
 it adheres, or than Ivy or Woodbine are 
 parts of the Tree, to which they cling. 
 If they are very frequent, they call off too 
 much the Attention of the Mind from the 
 principal Bufinefs and Defign of the Poet, 
 and inftead of Ornaments they become 
 an Encumbrance, and opprefs the Fable ; 
 and if they fwell to a great length, by 
 which the main Action is forgotten and 
 left out of Sight, they are fo many Tu- 
 mours and large Excrefencies, that deform 
 the Narration and weaken its Force. 
 
 THE
 
 58 An 
 
 Ttf Mior* of the Poem is carry 'd ori 
 as well by Epifodes that contain Conful- 
 tstions, Conferences, Songs and Speeches, 
 as by thefe which are entirely a&ive, efpe- 
 ciafly if they are put into the Mouths of 
 the Aftors. Some^ for want of Judgment, 
 liave h*iagtnM, that tht Poem ffofids ftifl 
 while any of the Perfons are erigag'd kr 
 fpeaking, arid' not hi Action or the Narra- 
 tion* of Ibfflfe bdfy 8ft*y ; but this is never 
 tme f but \>rlien> the Poet ir* his own j Per- 
 fon mafce$ Remarks and' moral Reflexions. 
 We d^ n<w find th^t the Song of Jopts m 
 Vtogtli ^ cdntfsmr/d by any Criticks for 
 <feteying tihe A^io'n OP interrupting its 
 Contfoaiiy, Iho many have cenfur*d it as 
 rtdt pettkient to fws Subjeft, while they 
 &i&& g0 that Of Home* ift ! his Vfyffes great- 
 er P?0ppfety. Narrations that are unfldtive 
 airg fbrnetmies rieeeflary to carry on chc 
 FptA*; and th& chey do not ftrifee t-he Ima- 
 giwatidn With foch Vehemence as military 
 s, w other a^ive^ Objects-, yet in- 
 Poetry, which is nlGte fedate than 
 , they a^e not odj in themfelves 
 beautiful and eriterraining, but they tem<- 
 ptr arid reduce ehe Effidtions of tihe Mind, 
 Wfiich- wouM be too violent! and 1 unfiip* 
 portable; tf tine Vehemence- of the Action 
 fhould be conftant, and not interrupted 
 through a Poem of fuch extent. Of
 
 EPICK POETRY. 59 
 
 Of INTEGRITY. 
 
 AS the chief Adion of the Poem ought 
 to be one and no more, fo that one 
 Aftion ought to be finifh'd and compleat, 
 in which the Integrity of it does confift. 
 Should a Painter delineate the Figure of 
 a Man, either without a Head or without 
 Feet, the Pi&ure muft be imperfect and 
 deform'd ; in like manner, fhould an Epick 
 Poet fo contrive his Fable, that any iate- 
 gral Parts of the Aftion fhould be want- 
 ing, the Piece would be lame and de- 
 fective. And this Error is confpicuous in 
 the Plan of the llUd, where, if according 
 to the Judgment of Horace, the ThyVw War 
 is the AcYion, that A&ion is not perfect and 
 entire, becaufe it neither begins with that 
 famous Siege which commenc'd many Years 
 before, nor does it end with it, fmce it 
 continu'd a Year after the Death of Hector, 
 and the Conclufion of the Poem. If it 
 be faid that the Aftion began with the 
 Anger of Athillet, which Homer mentions 
 in his Proposition that introduces the Fable, 
 then Rapin thinks there would be two 
 Angers of Milks ; one for the Lofs of his 
 Miitrefs detain'd by Agamemnon, which 
 occafion'd his departure from the Army ; 
 and another quite diftinft, which arofe 
 
 upon
 
 60 An, ESSAY upon 
 
 upon the Death of Patroc/us, and brought 
 back the Hero to the Field, that he might 
 revenge the Fall of his Friend upon the 
 Trojans : Whence, fays the Critick, it will 
 evidently follow, that the Action or Sub- 
 ject of the Poem will be double ; which is 
 at leaft as great a Defect, as the want of 
 Integrity. 
 
 Of the METRE, 
 
 T T is requir'd in the Definition of an 
 * Epick Poem, that the feign'd Story 
 ihouid be recited in Verfe ; the reafon is, 
 that it may be fpecifically limited and di- 
 verfify'd from Writings in Profe, which is 
 Oratio Soluta; that is, a Speech or Dicti- 
 on free and unbounded by Metre. I do 
 not affirm, that Rhime is neceflary ; tho 
 in the modern Languages, which cannot 
 imitate the Numbers of the Greek and 
 Latin Poems, it is a Beauty and a mufical 
 Entertainment, and when it is eafy, un- 
 conftrain'd, and manag'd with Skill, has 
 a good Effect. It is true, as before-men- 
 tion'd, thatadevis'd Story related in Profe, 
 where the Action is important and its 
 Unity is prefer v'd, where the Characters 
 are illuftrious, the Sentiments great and 
 noble, and the Diftion figurative, fplen- 
 did and fpiritful, comes near to the Nature 
 
 of
 
 EPICK POETRY. 61 
 
 of an Epick Poem, and wants nothing but 
 Numbers to make it fuch; but without 
 this eflential Property it cannot claim that 
 Appellation. If an invented Aftion re- 
 cited in Sentences not limited by Metre 
 were a Poem, then all the Fables of Efop, 
 and of the Romantick Writers, would 
 merit the fame Denomination : The Truth 
 is, that the Narration of an imagin'd and 
 contriv'd Aftion without Numbers, is a 
 counterfeit Poem in Profe; as the recital 
 of real Fals and Incidents in Metre, is a 
 true Hiftory in Verfe. 
 
 Of the TIM E. 
 
 HpHE Duration of the A&ion in it 
 -*- felf is unfettled, and muft be deter- 
 min'd by the Judgment of the Poet, ac- 
 cording to the different Nature and va- 
 rious Circumftances of his Subject : If that 
 be violent and full of Paflion, or on the 
 contrary, calm and moderate; if it be fim- 
 ple, or lefs or more implex, the Narra- 
 tion will be fliorten'd or more extended. 
 Befides, it is in the Power of the Writer 
 to invent variety of Epifodes and Digref- 
 fions, and to contract or enlarge them, 
 provided he preferves Order and Propor- 
 tion, in refpeft of the Parts one to ano- 
 ther : And in this his Liberty is like that 
 
 of
 
 6i An Es s A Y ufw 
 
 of an Architect, who may act in confor* 
 mity to the Rules of his Aft, whether he 
 gives more or lefs, larger or narrower 
 Rooms to his Building, fo he maintain 
 that Regularity and Symetry of the Parts, 
 which the Perfection of the whole re- 
 quires. 
 
 HENCE it is that the Duration of the 
 Aftion in the llud, the Odyffes, and the 
 JLnetS) is very different ; the Extenfion of 
 the Time, which the Bufmefs of the Poem 
 fhall take up, being of arbitrary Deter- 
 mination; in fixing, however, of which 
 the Poet is oblig'd to have regard to the 
 Nature of the Action, and the Beauty and 
 Order of the Structure. 
 
 THE Writer is at liberty to begin his 
 Poem with the firft Part of the Action, 
 and to continue the Relation by a regular 
 Succefiion of Incidents, till the Work is 
 finifli'd, which Method is obferv'd in the 
 Iliad ; or elfe at the Beginning of the Poem 
 he may enter upon any fubfequent Part in 
 Order of Time, and referve the firft Part 
 of the Action to be introduc'd by way of 
 Recital, which is practis'd by Virgil in his 
 JEveis : Both thefe ways are warrantable, 
 fince no Dictate of Reafon in this Cafe, 
 reftrains the free Choice of the Poet. It 
 * is
 
 EPI CK POETRY. 63 
 
 is evident that this Hiftorical Relation, 
 which is made by fome proper A&or, is 
 as much an Epifode or integral Part of 
 the Poem as the reft, which united, con- 
 ftitute the Matter eflential to the Aftion ; 
 fince without it the Work will be maim'd 
 and defective. But the Narration of E- 
 vents that (hall happen in Times to come, 
 after the Epick Action is ended, which is 
 fometimes made by way of Prediction, as 
 that of Anchifes to ALneas, that continues 
 the Story down to the Reign ofAt/guftus, 
 cannot be efteem'd an Incident or integral 
 Part of the Aftion, but is to be reckon'd 
 a Digreffion fpringing from an Incident or 
 Epifode, by the Means of which it is 
 united to the Poem, and the Reafon is 
 evident ; for if the Prophecy were re- 
 mov'd, there would be indeed a great 
 Beauty loft, but no Epifode or material 
 Part would be miffing by its Abfence, but 
 the Poem would continue unmaim'd and 
 entire. 
 
 Of the MACHINES. 
 
 AS to the Machines, that is, the Cele- 
 ftial and Infernal Powers introduced 
 by the Poet, tho they muft not be look'd 
 on as neceflary and eflential, yet when 
 they are interefted in the Aclion, they 
 
 raife
 
 64 ^fc E s s A Y upon 
 
 raife the Dignity of the Poem, and make 
 the Narration more illuftrious and impor- 
 tant ; whence they muft be efteem'd highly 
 expedient and ufeful. This Pra&ice is 
 warranted and encourag'd by the eldeft 
 Example of fublime Poetry, which was 
 long before the Age of Homer^ I mean> 
 the Book of Job compos'd under the Gui- 
 dance of Divine Infpiration ; in which the 
 Supreme Being and the chief A poftate Angel 
 are engag'd as Parties concern'd ; whence 
 it appears very probable, that the Ufe of 
 Machines in Heroick and Tragiek Poems 
 took its rife. 
 
 IT is by fome obje&ed, that the intro- 
 ducing of Divine and Angelick Beings to 
 aflift the Hero of the Poem, and fight a- 
 gainft his Competitor, muft highly de- 
 tract from the Glory of his A&ions, and 
 diminifh the Opinion of his Bravery and 
 Conduct; for, fay they, What Honour 
 can juftly redound to the Warrior, who 
 has conquer'd his Enemy not fo much 
 by his own Arms, as by the Power of 
 mighty invifible Beings, who aided and 
 protected his Perfon, and difpirited and 
 affrighted his Rival? If Minerva fup- 
 ports Achilles againft Hector, and Jupi- 
 ter engages on the fide of jfLmas againft 
 Turnus, can it be any Dishonour to the 
 * Van-
 
 Ep I C K Po E T R Y. 5 
 
 Vanquifh'd, if they are look'd on as in- 
 feriour in ' Power to the Gods ? Had 
 Heaven ftood neuter and efpous'd neither 
 Caufe, who can tell whether Hetfor or 
 Turnus might not have triumph'd over 
 their Enemies? If two Champions are 
 engag'd in Combat, and a third fuperior 
 or equal in Strength to either of them, 
 fbould ftep in to aflift one to fubdue the 
 other, would this be a fair Decifion, who 
 of the two did excel his Competitor in 
 Strength and Courage? 
 
 T o this I anfwer ; That it does by no 
 means derogate frorn the Glory of the vi- 
 clorious Hero, that in the Fight he was 
 animated and affifted, as his Rival was ter* 
 rify'd, by fupernatural Powers ; the Reafon 
 is, becaufe the Aftion is entirely his own, 
 notwithstanding the Adiftance of Celeftial 
 Beings. But the Cafe would be quite o- 
 therwife did another Champion rufh into 
 his Aid, for then the Aftion would be evi- 
 dently fhar'd between them, and no Ho- 
 nour would redound to either. The Su- 
 pream Being, as univerfal Caufe, muft 
 afford his concurring Power, not only to 
 fupport the Exiftence of all his Creatures, 
 but likewife to enable all their Faculties 
 and Powers to exert themfelves in Afti- 
 on. Should we fuppofe a created Being 
 F inde-
 
 66 A E s s A Y 
 
 independent on the Creator in any one 
 natural Operation, let it be the flighted 
 fenfitive Perception, the firft Formation of 
 a Thought, or the leaft Itnpulfe or Voli- 
 tion of the Will, that Creature would be 
 independent in all his Adions, there being 
 nothing more requir'd for the Indepen- 
 dency of all, than of any one Operation, 
 and then it would follow, that this Being 
 would be endow'd with Divine Perfe3i* 
 ons, and become a Deity. Befides the 
 Phyfical Neceflky of the Concurrence of 
 the Supream Being to enable his Crea- 
 tures to aft, all Men, who have a juft 
 Idea of him, will allow that he does actu- 
 ally intereft himfeif in the Government of 
 Humane Affairs, and by his Providence 
 difpofes Things in fuch a manner, that 
 thofe Events, which he defigns, ftiali cer- 
 tainly come to pafs ; that he brings about 
 the Rife and Fall of Empires, promotes 
 or disappoints the Schemes of Statefmen, 
 and as Lord of Armies, beftows Victory on 
 which Leader he pleafes ; that he infpires 
 the Heart of his iavour'd General with 
 Courage and Wifdom, fbields his Head in 
 the Day of Battle, animates his Troops, 
 and disheartens and confounds the Ene^ 
 my. Nor is the Hero's Valour or Pru- 
 dence the Jefs his own, becaufe infpir'd 
 and given by Heaven \ nor is his Honour 
 
 dim!*
 
 E'prtaK POETRY. 7 
 diminifh'd by the Intervention of Provi- 
 dence, that difpos'd Circumftances in his 
 Favour; for our Faculties and Powers, are 
 freely, and without conllraint, exerted 
 In all our Operations; and the Concur- 
 r-ence of Divine Aid does not fufpend, 
 much lefsdeitroy, the Liberty and Self- 
 determining Power of the Will ; and there- 
 fore how much foever we are affifted 
 by the Supream Being, as an univerfal 
 Caufe, our Actions are as much our 
 own, as it is poffible that a Creature's 
 fbould be. 
 
 TH E Poets therefore out of Reverence 
 to the Deities, whom they fupposM to be 
 interefted in the Administration of Hu- 
 mane Affairs, efpecially of thofe that are 
 attended with memorable and important 
 Events, by introducing their Machines in 
 all great Actions, defign'd, as I imagine, 
 no more than to give an allegorical Re* 
 prefentation of that fupream Providence, 
 which guides and directs the Univerfe, 
 and particularly interpofes in the Concerns 
 of Mankind ; and by this means they fup- 
 =pos ? d they fhould make a greater Imprefr 
 flon on the Minds of Men, and propa- 
 gate more effectually the pious Notion 
 of God's Government of the World in a 
 Moral Senfe , and perhaps they might like- 
 F 2 wife
 
 68 An Es s AY ufon 
 
 wife have fome regard to him as a Phyfi- 
 
 cal univerfal Caufe. 
 
 A SUPERIOR Critick of our own Na* 
 tion has affirm'd, that to be thus aflifted 
 by the Gods is fo far from debafing, that 
 it very much heightens the Gharafter of 
 the Hero, fince it is in it felf and in the 
 Opinion of the People, a greater Honour 
 to be a Favourite of Heaven, than to 
 perform the greateft Aftions without 
 Divine Aid ; it being juftly look'd on 
 as the ftrongeft Proof of any Man's un- 
 common Merit, that he is belov'd and 
 fupported by the Gods, to whom an ill 
 Man can never be dear or acceptable. 
 This Aflertion has, at firft fight, a good 
 appearance, but in my Opinion, if exa- 
 rnin'd, it will be found more ingenious 
 than folid. In the firft place it is not 
 in Fa& true, that the principal Hero of 
 the Poem, how great and fuccefsful fo- 
 ever he is, and how much foever encou- 
 rag'd and aided by the Gods, is, or ought 
 to be a good or vertuous Perfon. An 
 ill Man may be a very good poetical 
 Hero, and this is the Cafe of the Iliad. 
 Achilles is not drawn as a Character of a 
 pious and prudent Warrior, but is always 
 furious, cruel, and inexorable, and fome- 
 times unjull and impious: Nor is he fa- 
 
 vour'd
 
 EPICK POETRY. 69 
 
 vour'd by Heaven for his Piety and-Ver- 
 tue, but for his Caufe, and the fake of 
 his Country, whofe Intereft the prevailing 
 Part of the Deities had efpous'd. And this 
 has been actually the Fate of many other 
 fuccefsful Generals, who by an uninterrupt- 
 ed Series of glorious Actions have acquir'd 
 univerfal Fame, notwithstanding they have 
 been eminent for no Vertue, but Military ; 
 for Divine Providence often animates and 
 fupports a valiant, tho a vicious and pro- 
 fane Leader, and enables him to do Won- 
 ders, that by his over-ruling Wifdom he 
 may bring about fome great Event that 
 ferves the Ends of his Government, which 
 however were never intended by the 
 Warrior, that promoted them. And this 
 being an evident Truth, it is plain, that 
 to be aflifted and favour'd by Heaven is 
 not a Mark of extraordinary Merit in the 
 Hero, and therefore cannot redound to his 
 Honour. 
 
 BUT were it otherwife, and could we 
 fuppofe that the Pagan Deities never took 
 part with any Heroes, but thofe that were 
 eminently Moral and Pious, and that no 
 ill Prince or General was favour'd by Hea- 
 ven and crown'd with great and wonder- 
 ful Succeffes; yet if it be allow'd, that the 
 Deities do any thins more than as univer- 
 F fai
 
 jo An E s s A y upon 
 
 fal Caufes, which concur and co-operate 
 with the Hero, that is, if their Actions 
 are diftinct and feparate from the Hero's, 
 if hi Perfon they fight againft, or by their 
 menacing Prefence terrify the Enemy, as 
 in the Cafe of Turnus, Dii ms terrent &' 
 Jupiter kofti* : It is clear, that this Adion 
 is no more the Hero's than if a third Man 
 had thruft a Firebrand in the LAtian\ 
 Face, to facilitate the Trojans Victory. Let 
 the Hero then be ever fo much a Favou- 
 rite of Heaven, and ever fo illuftrious 
 for his Vertue and religious Qualities, if 
 it be fuppos'd that the Gods do actually 
 engage in Combat with his Rival, and 
 personally help to fubdue him, the Hero 
 can by no means derive any Honour from, 
 this Conqueft : But if it be allow'd that 
 the Poet, by interefting Celeftial Powers 
 in the Action intends no more, than in an 
 allegorical Manner, to inculcate on the 
 Minds of the People a juft Notion of Di- 
 vine Providence, and the Neceflity that 
 we lie under to implore his Favour, and 
 rely on his Afliftance in all important Un- 
 dertakings : If it be likewife acknow- 
 ledg'd that the Affitbnce, which he gives 
 the Hero, is by inipiring his Mind with 
 intrepid Reiolution, and animating him to 
 put forth his utmoft Strength, as well by 
 difpofog of Circumftances fo as to inti- 
 midate
 
 Epi CK Po ETRY. yi 
 
 midate the Enemy, or to occafion his Con- 
 fufion and Diftraction ; this Concurrence 
 will not detraft from the Glory of the 
 Conqueror, but augment it ; for this does 
 not make his Actions to be lefs his own, 
 fince the Aid he receives from Heaven is by 
 Co-operation, and by enabling him to ex- 
 ert his Faculties and Powers to the higheft 
 Degree of which he is capable, but not 
 farther: And if this Explanation be al- 
 low'd, the Difficulty arifing from the a- 
 bove-mention'd Objection to Machines in 
 Epick Poetry, is remov'd. 
 
 THE famous Raphael in his only He- 
 roick Piece, I mean, the Battle fought by 
 ConfAntim and Maxentius for the Roman 
 Empire, delineates three, arm'd Angels 
 flying over the Head of the firft Leader ; 
 by which he reprefents the watchful Care 
 cf Heaven, in protecting the Perfons and 
 affifting the Troops of favourite Leaders; 
 but he judicioufly chufes not to mingle 
 them in the Army, or to exhibit them 
 actually fighting againft Maxentius or his 
 Soldiers ; for had that been done, the Ho- 
 nour of the Victory could not juftly have 
 been afcrib'd to his Rival. IF therefore 
 Homer and Virgil by engaging the Deities 
 in the Action, meant any thing more than 
 a figurative Representation of Divine Pro- 
 F 4 vidence,
 
 yi An Es s AY ufm 
 
 vidence, that concerns it felf intimately in 
 Humane Affairs, in my Opinion Reafon 
 will not bear them out ; but that itrange 
 Mixture of Gods lighting with Men muft 
 be not only harfh a.nd uncouth, but unna^ 
 tural and abfurd. 
 
 THERE are two forts of Men among 
 us, thofe who disbelieve invifible Beings 
 of a fuperior Order to that of Men, and 
 many Chriftians of the contrary Opinion, 
 who notwithftanding they are pleas'd with 
 the Machines introduced by Pagan Wri- 
 ters into their Poems, and think they im- 
 part Ornament, Strength and Dignity to 
 thp Work, are not fatisfy'd that a Chri-. 
 ftian Poet fhould engage Celeftial or In- 
 fernal Powers, agreeable to the Scheme oi 
 their own Religion, either in Epick or 
 any other great Ppems. They had rather 
 all Things fhould be reprefented as ma- 
 nag'd and over-rul'd by Pagan Deities; 
 and therefore the Poets of this Principle 
 do not make ufe of Chriftian Machines in 
 their Writings, tho in a Country where 
 that Religion is profefs'd and eftahlifh'd, 
 but employ the Idols of the ancient Hea- 
 thens in all their Works, notwithftanding 
 the Practice is fo incongruous and abfurd. 
 The Reafon I fuppofe, why the firft fort, 
 I mean our irreligious Scepticks, aft iu 
 
 this
 
 EPICK POETRY. 73 
 
 this manner is this, That they know the 
 Heathen Deities, whom they intereft ia 
 their Poems, are no more than imaginary 
 Beings, and they can freely concern them- 
 felves with fuch Gods, without difturbing 
 their Minds, by raifing Apprehenfions of 
 Divine Juftice, Remorfe for Guilt, or Fears 
 of Punifhment. They can mention Mars, 
 Apollo and Venus with great Satisfaction and 
 Serenity of Mind ; for they are paft doubt 
 that thefeare invented Divinities, that have 
 no Exiftence : But when they name the 
 Creator and fupream Moderator of the 
 World, the Celeftial Hierarchy and Infer- 
 nal Spirits, as attested by the Chriftian 
 Revelation, not being certain, that is en- 
 tirely deliver'd from diftruft, that thefe 
 Beings are the mere Creatures of Fancy 
 and Fiction, they cannot think of them 
 without fome inward Awe and Diftur- 
 bance ; and this is a good Reafon to prove, 
 that tho the Atheift is fully fatisfy'd of the 
 Falfhood of Heathen Schemes, yet he is 
 not fure of the Falfhood of the Chriftian ; 
 for if he were, he would equally be in- 
 din'd to the one and the other, and then 
 he would infallibly prefer the Chriftian 
 Religion, and out of Decency and Con- 
 gruity make ufe of it in his Writings, 
 fince it is the eftablifli'd Religion of his 
 Country. 
 
 BUT
 
 An ESSAY 
 
 Bu T the Reafon why many Chriftians 
 pppofe the Ufe of Machines agreeable to 
 their own Religion, is of a different Na- 
 ture. Thefe Gentlemen are of 
 
 Judgment, that the Greatnefs and Majefty 
 of the Chriftian Religion would be de- 
 bas'd, by engaging in Epick Poems fu- 
 perior, invisible Beings, according to that 
 Syftem ; and Sir Wtlli&m Temple is of the 
 fame Opinion. But let ir be confider'd, 
 that Epick Poetry is indeed the Theology 
 of the Country where the Poet lives, and 
 every Work of this kind is a Syftem of 
 the Religion, and a fort of Confeilion of 
 the Publick Faith there eftablifh'd ; and 
 therefore it is as great an Abfurdity for an 
 Epick Writer to employ any other Scheme 
 of Religion in his Poems, as if a Chri- 
 ftian Preacher fbould form his Difcourfes 
 upon the Plan of Mahomet, or in Confor- 
 mity to the Do&rinesof tfizGentiles. Be- 
 fides this Objection, that the Chriftian 
 Religion does not furnifh fuch proper Ma- 
 terials for Heroick Poetry as the Pagan 
 Theology, will fall to the Ground, if it be 
 confider'd, that the Supream Being and the 
 rft Apoftate Angel have actually been 
 introduc'd in the Book of Job, without de* 
 bafing the Dignity of Religion ; that Mil- 
 ion has, with Succefs ? employ'd in the 
 
 Africa
 
 EP I C K Po ET RY. 75 
 
 AcYion of his Poem Machines fuitable to 
 the Chriftian Scheme, and that the like is 
 done in Prince Arthur^ and other Poems 
 that followed it, without finking the Sub- 
 limity or diminifhing the Majetty of that 
 Divine Institution. 
 
 Of the DIGNITY of the Narration. 
 
 TN an Epick Poem all Things fliould be 
 * great, ferious, and elevated, without 
 any Allay of puerile and light Ideas. The 
 Gravity and Dignity of the fubiime Stile 
 will not endure facetious Expreflion, much 
 lefs fuch Strains as have an Air of Raillery 
 and Burlefque. None of thefe low and 
 ludicrous Mixtures, which are inconfiftent 
 with the Height and Importance of an 
 Epick Adion, is any where found in Vir- 
 g//'s jveis ; fo careful was that judicious 
 Author not to debafe the Greatnefs, cor- 
 rupt the Purity, or fully the Luftre of the 
 Heroick Stile, by interfperfing gay Con- 
 ceptions and Sports of Fancy, which carr 
 only be agreeable to a falfe Tafte, that 
 cannot judge of the true Sublime. And 
 when Homer entertains his Reader with 
 the Pleafantry and Laughter of the Gods, 
 occaiion'd by the awkward Behaviour of 
 the limping Deity that fill'd out the Netfar 
 at thgir Feaffo, and with the merry Pranks 
 
 of
 
 j6 An ESSAY upon 
 
 of Mars and Venus entangled in his artful 
 Net, he offends againft Propriety of Man- 
 ners, by reprefenting Celefttal Beings en- 
 gag'd in mean and trifling Paftimes, un- 
 becoming their Divine Character. And 
 as by introducing into Heaven Farce and 
 BuflFoonry, an improper Place for fuch 
 Diverfion, he has broken in upon the Con* 
 gruity and Decency which fhould be al- 
 ways preferv'd in the Characters, fo he 
 tranfgrefles the Rule, that banifbes in ge- 
 neral from Heroick Works, all comick 
 Manners, witty Conceits and Ridicule ; 
 the reafon of which Rule is founded on 
 the Nature of Epick Poetry, whofe Pro- 
 perty it is to celebrate the Actions of the 
 Supream Being, Angels, and iliurtrious 
 Men, and therefore is too folemn and no- 
 ble to bear the little Plays of Imagination. 
 
 Of the MORAL. 
 
 AN Epick Poem muft be inftruclive, 
 ^"*- and it is requir'd that it fhould be 
 agreeable only that it may the more effectu- 
 ally leave vertuous Impreflions on the 
 Mind; which ufeful end is common to 
 this, with the other Species of Poetry. It 
 is not fufficient that fome few moral Sen- 
 tences are here and there interfpers'd, but 
 a Divine Spirit fhould reign through the 
 * whole
 
 EPICK POETRY. 77 
 
 whole Compofition. The Incidents and 
 Digreflions fliould every where convey to 
 the Imagination great and elevated Ideas, 
 fill the Breaft with generous PafllonSj and 
 produce in the Soul warm Refolutions to 
 follow the Dictates of Reafon, and obey 
 the Precepts of Religion and Vertue ; and 
 beiides this, fome important Moral fhould 
 arife from the whole Fable. 
 
 I CANNOT conceive that Bo/fifs A 
 fertion, however -ingenious it may be, is 
 founded on good Reafon, which is, that the 
 Poet muft in his firft Intention be dog- 
 matical and pitch upon fome confiderable 
 Moral, and then contrive his Fable fuitable 
 to that Defign : If it be well obferv'd it 
 will evidently appear, that no Author 
 can form the Narration of any great and 
 memorable Aftion but fome Moral will 
 arife from it, whether the Writer intends 
 it or not: And fince Homer and Vir- 
 gil do not exprefly draw any Doftrine 
 from their Fables, it is uncertain whe- 
 ther they defign'd any, tho they ought 
 to have done it ; and it is ftill more un- 
 certain, whether they intended thofe par- 
 ticular Morals which are generally afcrib'd 
 to them, becaufe many fuch Leilbns of 
 Inftru&ion will refult from the Imitation 
 of any illuftrious and extraordinary Action, 
 
 either
 
 78 An ESSAY ufm 
 
 feither in Epick or in Tragick Poems* A3 
 from Pulpit Difcourfes on Divine Sub- 
 jects, many ufeful Inferences may be de- 
 duc'd by the Preacher ; fo in thefe fupe- 
 rior Poems various Doctrines may arife, 
 which the Poet may himfelf mention if 
 he pleafes, or leave them to be drawn by 
 the People for their Improvement. 
 
 THO the Epick Poets fddom name 
 their Moral at the end of the Action, yet 
 the Tragick often do ; and when they men- 
 tion it, they are not to be cenfur'd, be- 
 caufe others likewife may be nam'd, fmce 
 many, and thofe very different too, may 
 naturally fpring from the fame Subject. 
 But when the Writer mentions thefe in- 
 ftruetive Sentiments at the end of the 
 Poem they are no Parts of it, but are out 
 of the Action, and only refult from the 
 Cataftrophe ; which is evident, fince the 
 Action is compleat without it. 
 
 THAT in the end of the Action the 
 chief Perfon fhould be fuccefsful, has been 
 the general Opinion of the Poets and mere 
 Criticks; which Rule they have laid down 
 and propagated without confulting Reafon 
 in the Cafe, being led into it by the Iliad 
 and Odjffes of Homer, and the lEneid of 
 Virgil \ in which the Event ,is profperous, 
 * * and
 
 EPI-GK POETRY. 79 
 and the Hero furmounts all his Difficul- 
 ties. See here another Inftance of the 
 Submiflion which the Poets and Com* 
 meritators have made to naked Authority, 
 by which they have advanc'd Maxims out 
 of Reverence 'to great Names, without any 
 difcuflion of the Subject, or entring upon 
 any Enquiry into the Foundation that fup- 
 ports their AfTertion. I fhall therefore re- 
 |el this Rule, which is unwarrantably 
 impos'd upon Epick Writers, and main- 
 tain the contrary Opinion, as more agree- 
 able to Reafon. 
 
 THERE is no NecefTity that the Hero 
 fliould finifh the Aclion with Vi&ory and 
 Renown, if we reflect, that the end of 
 the Epick Poet may be equally attain'dj, 
 tho the Event fhould be unfortunate ; va- 
 rious and important Inflations will arife 
 as well from a calamitous as a happy IP 
 fue, and which perhaps will have a bet- 
 ter EfFeQ: and kave a more lading Im- 
 preflion on the Mind. If Men would not 
 cut off the Connexion of this Life with the 
 next, hut would contemplate this State of 
 Probation and that of Immortality and 
 iudkial Retribution to come, as one Du- 
 ration unbroken by Death, which does 
 not deftroy and extinguifh our Life, but 
 diverfify and change its Cirumftances : In 
 
 this
 
 80 An E s s A Y upon 
 
 this View the Mind of the Reader would 
 become eafy, tho he finds at laft a wicked 
 Prince or Warrior triumph over diftrefs'd 
 Vertue, or a Perfon endow'd with He- 
 roick Qualities left in the greateft Mife- 
 ry ; for he will pleafe himfelf with the 
 Profpeft of their future State of Life, when 
 Rewards and Punifhments fhall be im- 
 partially diftributed, when Per fans of Me- 
 rit and Piety fhall be ever happy, and 
 the Irreligious and Immoral be confign'd 
 to endlefs Sufferings. 
 
 BESIDES, an unhappy IfTue of the 
 Action is no lefs an imitation of Nature, 
 which is eflentially requir'd in this Species 
 of Poetry, as well as in Tragedy and 
 Comedy, than a profperous Cataftrophe : 
 We lament every pay the calamitous 
 Fate of excellent Princes and illuftrious 
 Worthies, while cruel Tyrants and impi- 
 ous Generals appear like Favourites of 
 Heaven, bleft with Succefs in all their 
 Undertakings. This, by the Permiflion of 
 Divine Providence, is moft ufuallyobferv'd 
 in the common Courfe of Humane Af- 
 fairs ; and therefore the Reprefentation 
 made by the Poet, of unprofperous Events 
 that happen to the Hero, is the neareft 
 imitation of Nature, as being that which 
 raoft commonly comes to pafs. If it be 
 
 obje&ed.,
 
 B?ICK Pdfe t R Y. Sr 
 
 objected, that this would bring Difhonour 
 upon Providence that farters Vei tue to be 
 ill treated, while Vice and Impiety are 
 not only unpunifh'd, but attended with 
 Wealth and Dignity, and raife in the 
 Minds of the People murmuring and dif- 
 content, while thefe Examples of neglected 
 Merit and diftrefs'd Innocence are fet be* 
 fore them, which cannot but difcourage 
 Men from imitating thofe generous Qua^ 
 lities, that are like t a involve them in 
 Trouble and Ruin. I anfwer, that there 
 is not the leaft Weight in this Objection, 
 if Men, as I obferv'd before, would look 
 en the Prefent and the Future State of 
 Life to be one extended Exiftence, which 
 Death, 'cis true, varies, but does not in- 
 terrupt or ditto! ve its Connexion. Take 
 then into one View, thofe Parts of Life 
 that {hall fucceed Death, and thofe that 
 have preceeded it, and regard it as much 
 an entire and undivided Duration, as that 
 of Infancy, Youth and Age, and the Dif- 
 ficulty will foon be remov'd ; for then 
 the Reader will fee, that Innocence and 
 Vertue, which fufter in one part of Life, 
 will flourifh and be rewarded in another 
 of infinitely greater Extent ; and Impiety, 
 tho now prosperous and triumphant, will 
 hereafter meet with condign Punishment. 
 
 Cr AS
 
 ,A E s s A Y 
 
 Of the CHARACTERS. 
 
 AS to the Perfpns that enter into die 
 A&ion, they ought to be diftjnguifh'd 
 by their varioujJ.Charadersy either asPrinces 
 qr Subject Wife or. Valiant, Fious oir te 
 religious, Calm OR Turbulent* or others 
 wife, diverfify'd by different; Inclinations; 
 and Habits ; aodiwJlenitfceir, Chambers are. 
 iparkM and fetxled, their Manners fhouldl 
 be fuit^ble and becoming! thofe Chacacr 
 tprs, thfttt is, every, Perfoji fhould fpeakandi 
 at v whererever he is ifltroducd, a it is* 
 reafo.nable and. proper tbat.-a.Man of ftich: 
 Qualities fho.uld> do^ and diaf likewife ac-< 
 cording to the : Tamper and: GircumftanceSi 
 in which, he is^at the loftant*. whemhe acbu. 
 If he is calm - and: fedate, or agitated by any^ 
 great Emotion of. Mind, he mull expnefs, 
 his Temper in his Language and Deport- 
 ment. As the whole Poem is an imitation-. 
 of Nature, fo that Imitation fhould be com- 
 ftantly preferv'd^ and appear every where 
 confpicuous in all the Aclors* The, Poet 
 therefore ought to obferve a dUe regard/ 
 to Time, Place and Perfbns, which is the 
 Foundation of Propriety, Fitnefs, and De- 
 cency ; , for jWhatever is improper and un- 
 becoming, is likewife (hocking and offen- 
 five. The Poet's Piftures, as well as the 
 
 Painter's
 
 Eric* PO'TKY. 
 
 Paintd^, flfouftf be"ar a 1 ju(t arKf lively' 
 RefdmWaric'e bf die Original: ^fen'DtlV 
 fimiiitude' and DifagreeiHeht is found be-^ 
 tween the Reprefentation and the'dBjecl: 
 reprefented; this is not to irnitate, but 
 to Bely Nature, t and inipofW ^raxi^l ujidn 
 tHd RdaHet*; Atltf tftis u'alit of Jiiftriefi;,. 
 Uniformity, and a bdaUtillll^ft^Mdrlta- " 
 tiort'of natural 5 C-dufes arid Effecls in' rti^ii? 
 various- DifHn6Uofis \^ill be a* grea't* B^d 1 
 rfilfli rb tHd ^rltirig, aTid\difcdverv ^tiaif 
 the' Autttbr is ; eitlier careldts of irijiidiclbu'^. 
 Mfance, fhould a Perfbri^in dfep Di- 
 
 pdrted ? \^it!i' fege; or hurtling vritfr Re^ 
 venge,. ma-ke a- long arid elegant Drfcodife" 
 fbll of f!ne ' SimilJc^j qmintf Tfutfis, an(F 
 fui'pfizing^fetaphors; lid Wbdlcf offe'rid^ 
 againft : the Cuftbrfi arid Rtild of j^atiirel 
 v^hich- iti fuch CircumftanCes nevef 
 in 'that 1 marmet. But I* fliatl not eril 
 upon this ufeful and copious Subject, 
 hasrbeeii already ekhatilkd'' by; rttahy'ettii-'" 
 merit W'ritei^: Hdhce it appears" lib w .ne-" 
 ceflary ir is -for the Poet tb ftUdy'artd'mlk^ 
 himfelf well acquainted with the various^ 
 Temperaments, Inclinations, and Pa {Rons 
 of Mankind, tb penetrate into the? (beret 
 Springs of Humane talons; arfd 1 MbW 
 Nature through Her' minuteft 1 Ret'efTes';' 
 that by this he may be qual^'^to'ap*" 
 G 2 pYopnafe*
 
 4 An E s s A Y upon 
 propriate to each different Complexion 
 and inward Principle of Action, their 
 chara&eriftick Manners and genuine Ex- 
 preffion. 
 
 BY what has been faid it will be evi- 
 dent, that the Difference between a nEpick 
 Poem and a Tragedy is not fo great, but 
 that they may be mutually converted one 
 into another. Should the Epick Poet re- 
 trench his Invocation, Propofition, and In- 
 troduction, fhould he fpeak nothing him- 
 felf, but exprefs every Thing by the 
 Mouths of the Aftors ; fhould he contract 
 his Epifodes and reduce their Number, 
 omit his Digreflions, cut off the length 
 of his Speeches and Similes, and make his 
 Incidents moi"9 vehement and paflionate, 
 he would change his Poem to a Tragedy. 
 On the contrary, fhould the A&ion of the 
 la ft be exhibited by Narration, where the 
 Poet fometimes fpeaks himfelf ; fhould the 
 Epifodes be multiply 'd and extended, and 
 the whole Aftion grow more calm and 
 moderate, it would plainly become an Epick 
 Poem. 
 
 . AND for this Reafon it farther appears, 
 that the Event in an Heroick Compofi- 
 tion may be unhappy as well as in a Tra- 
 gick, the Tranfmucation of one to another 
 Being fo eafy. IT
 
 EpICKPoETRY. 85 
 
 IT was affirm'd in the foregoing Dif- 
 courfe, that Epick Poetry was more near- 
 ly ally'd to Tragedy, than to any other 
 kind ; and therefore to fet the Nature of 
 it yet in a clearer Light, it may not be 
 improper to form a Comparifon between 
 them. 
 
 AComfarifon between EPICK POETRY 
 and TRAGEDY. 
 
 HP R A G i c K and Epick Poetry agree in 
 *- their general Idea, both being equally 
 an imitation of Nature. But the Tragick 
 Poet imitates by Reprefentation, as the 
 Epick by Recital or Narration : The laft 
 tells what Things were done, and in what 
 Order by thofe who are interefted in the 
 Aftion : But the firft introduces the A&ors 
 doing all Things in their own Perfons. 
 The Epick Poet often interpofes Difcour- 
 fes of his own, which the Tragick never 
 does; but every Th.ng is faid and done 
 by the Parties engag'd in the Poem ; the 
 Difference is the fame as between two 
 Authors, of whom one relates a Confe- 
 rence held by two or more Perions, and 
 tells the Reader what was faid, and by 
 whom in the whole Debate j and the o- 
 G J ther,
 
 ther introduces the Parties themfelves dif- 
 jattfwii,ng p$ another in [the 
 
 '. T^fe fpets likwl{e.a 
 in <heir Efld, wjti'ch is tp -improve 
 i^donft^ndin^ witih MoraJ and Irvine 
 ap.d iojipir/e ?t^e H^rf \yith a 
 pious Ardor and a generous Refolutioo ^9 
 aim at Heroick Vertue : But they proceed 
 in a different way to attain tlieir De/ign. 
 ^he Tragick Poet to procure his End, rc- 
 prefents fucb Aftj.o^s, \and iatroduces fuch 
 Incidents and various Turns, as are moft 
 jwpef afu) .efedjuai to raife Terror a^d 
 f^i.pafi.oj:? in the iyjind of fhe ^udience ; 
 Jb.ut $ie ^picfc Authpf cp^tr^ves Iws Fabjlp, 
 
 fitted \^ay jt t q create Delight ancj 
 ' 
 
 IT i$ requn'd, thaf in each of tfeefe 
 f Poetry the principal perfon 
 JhpuJ4 be (of i)-l,yftripjjs Bir;h or high Sta- 
 tipn, thai js, fpeijcaj ff erpes and HerpinS, 
 ?o4 thajt the A^ipn be great aad irppof- 
 |/nt. Bt they ^lif^greein this, diatTra-? 
 geiJy is v/ery biify and vehement, it works 
 tji Spul with tiij-bulenjt En^ptipns an4 
 ^fs Trai^fpprts, and pQnft^ntly ejthep 
 the tender, pr agitates he violent 
 while Epicfc Poetry is ijipre 
 
 calm
 
 EPI*CK POETRY. $7 
 
 cahn and moderate, where the Reader is 
 carry'd on with a lively and pleafant Gale ; 
 bot not as in the other Cafe, hurry'd with 
 Violence, and driven by a Tempeft. ^\.n 
 Epick Poem being more fedate and quiet^ 
 crre A6Hon is of long Ekiration, fometimes 
 of many Yeats; and the Narration, by 
 mtfltiplyM Epifodes, Events, and Digref- 
 fions, is carry'd on to a .great Extent. But 
 the Action in Tragedy being more paflio- 
 nate and impetuous, is Of far fhorter Con- 
 tinuance, brcing usually finiflf d in two or 
 three Days, or }^et a Sorter Tirae. An 
 Epick Poem contains as well plenty of 
 Characters, wbtch enliven and enrich the 
 Work, as great variety of Subject Mat- 
 ter in its integral Parts, and frequent Ex- 
 curfions. Tragedy is more clofe and con- 
 cife, being ftraiten'd and confin'd in a nar- 
 rower compafs of Time. 
 
 TH E3E two Species of Poetry are uni- 
 verfally allow'd to furpafs all others, but 
 there is fome Controverfy which of them 
 is fuperior and to be moft etteem'd ; Ari- 
 Jtotle gives the firft Rank to Tragedy, b$f 
 by the unanimous Suffrages of fucceedihg 
 Crkicks, an Epick Poem is the moft noble 
 and excellent Production of Humane Un- 
 demanding ; and it is remarkable, that 
 the Criticks deferred their Mafter in this 
 G 4 Point,
 
 8-8 An E s SAY. 
 
 Point, when his Authority was at he 
 greateft Height and the, learned "Work} 
 jfcrvilely fubmitted to his Judgment in the 
 Arts and Sciences : Nothing can account 
 fot., this, but. that the Evidence was fo 
 ftrong and clear againft drift oilfs Opinion, 
 that they were not ,able, how willing fo- 
 ever they might be, to refift its Convicti- 
 on. Rapin, a Critick 9f the firft Clafs, 
 affirms, that an Epick Poem, is the moft 
 admirable and perfeft Work of the Mind, 
 and affigns this Reafon of his Aflertion, 
 That it contains. in it felf the Perfections 
 of all other kinds of Poetry. To iirengthen 
 and fupport his Aflertion, he cites many 
 of the moft eminent Matters of Criticifm. 
 
 HAVING thus examin'd the Nature and 
 Conftitution of an Epick Poem, and fliown 
 in what Inftances my Notions agree with, 
 or differ from the receiv'd Opinions of the 
 ArijtotelUn Critick s, I am now oblig'd by 
 Promife to give my own Definition of fuch 
 a Work,' which I look upon as more juft and 
 reafonable than that laid down in the be- 
 ginning of this Difcourfe ; An Epick Poem 
 Tf a probable, marvellous, and dew is* d Story of 
 Aft impart ant Exterprize, or great Suffering of 
 fame tllujtrious Perfon y recited in Vtrfe of the 
 fublime Stile, to afford Delight and Inftrttftion* 
 I have left out of this Definition, the Term 
 
 Allego-
 
 EPICK POETRY. 89 
 
 Allegorical, becaufe it is not neceflary that 
 an Epick Poem fhould be Allegorical in 
 any other Senfe> than that the Narration 
 ought to be Metaphorical and Figurative ; 
 which Property is fully exprefs'd by re* 
 quiring, that the Recital be made in Verfe 
 of the fublime Stile. I have left out the 
 Term Aftion, and have added Enterprise 
 or Suffering, for the Reafons alledg'd in 
 the foregoing DifTertation ; and I have faid 
 lllufriou* Ptrfon, to leave the Definition 
 free, and not reftrain'd to a Hero; fince 
 no Reafon, as I believe, can be aflign'd, 
 why a Heroine may not be the Principal 
 Perfon of an Epick, as well as a Tragick 
 Poem, to which it is fo nearly ally'd. It 
 is evident, That the eflential Properties of 
 an Heroick Work may be all preferv'd, 
 and the principal End of the Poet be as 
 effedually obtain'd, where an illuftrious 
 Woman is introduc'd as the chief Cha- 
 rafter, as well as where a Prince or Gene- 
 ral fuftain that Province. 
 
 s E CT.
 
 An ESSAY upon 
 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 *'i. -j;io Mi : 
 
 HAV 1 N<* m :flTC foregoing Pages in- 
 qqirrM Trtto the tntrinfick ConfHta- 
 tion aoa efaitial Properties >f tm Epick 
 Worft, I ihall now proceed to exarrwne 
 , mrd ortrer external Qrfrttes ire- 
 to Ais elevated "Species ctf Poetry. 
 
 t N to the eldeft Ages of the World 
 Men pesrceiv't! a want of Means to com- 
 mqnkatc their Serrtrments to Pedbns at a 
 great Dilterce, and to many at once* and 
 defirM a more fairhfu! and hfting Pre- 
 ferver of their Opinions than Oral Tradi- 
 tion, the Ait of Printing being yet un- 
 known, they fonnd out various ways of 
 committing their Thoughts to Writing : 
 At firft they infcrib'd them in Bricks and 
 Stones, and afterwards in Tables overfpread 
 with Wax, ufing a piece of Iron call'd a 
 6V//?, which is a Gra^Term made ///&. 
 This fmall Inftrument was pointed at one 
 end, and flat at the other. They em- 
 ploy'd the pointed End to raife up the 
 Wax and form the Letters, and with the 
 
 flat
 
 CK POETRY. 9$ 
 
 flat they effac'd the Writing at Pleafure, 
 by filing up tfee Js^rpows ad foaoothing 
 th? W&> jacccH$i9g *o tbat of Horace, 
 
 vert ft itewm qu* digui legi 
 
 Qft ftp? your /$?, and, #fi tti 
 
 write Tbivgs mrtky to be read. 
 
 Py degrees the Term Stile came 
 tively to exprefs the Way or Chara&er of 
 Writing in general, and was divided into 
 feveral ippps tfet arofe from the various 
 JV4odes Qf Di&ip# t iu DifcOAirfcs on var 
 riojus 6u{)je3:s^ Jt was Ijfceivife us'd to 
 figaify tte Matter .of Expreffioa peoaliar 
 p jhis or that A^hor j So we fyf'WrgiP* 
 or L^^/ Stile. So Ciser0, m his Book of 
 famous Orators, dj&fcnbes a wonderful Va* 
 rie^y of EJoqueflcg in the Romans, whofe 
 diflPerient Stile he delineates with admirable 
 Diftuiftfon, The Word is now like wife 
 tranflated, an4 becofnes Technical in the 
 4rts of Mufick and Painting, by which 
 the Artifts expfefs the ,difFereat Manner 
 of writing Mufick, or drawing Pictures, 
 proper to diffe?eiit Mafters. 
 
 STILE
 
 92 An E s s A y ufm 
 
 ^3'sj. r -* o * . 
 
 STILE then, in general, is the Chara- 
 fter or Fafbion of Writing. This to the 
 Method and Symetry of the Compofition 
 adds Complexion, Vivacity and Decora- 
 tion, and enlivens the Difcourfe, which 
 before was an imperfecl: Draught, with 
 fmiihing Strokes and beautiful Colouring. 
 Here 'the Writer exerts his Skill, beftows 
 all the Charms and Graces that his Art 
 affords, and adjufts every thing to the ut- 
 rnoft Advantage that he may raife the 
 Admiration of the Reader. 
 
 - T.S W." rus . ^ion-" 1 ' ni ^nijhW 
 
 O ^ 
 
 A s the Choice of Words, which, in the 
 Opinion of eminent Criticks, is the prin- 
 cipal Part of Eloquence, belongs to the 
 Stile ; fo does the ranging of them in a 
 beautiful and harmonious Order, as well 
 as all the elegant and moving Turns of 
 Expreffion, whith adorn their proper Pla- 
 ces and give Life and Luftre to the Whole. 
 Hither alfo is refer'd the Art of touching 
 the Soul, and agitating the Paflions by 
 bold and warm Images, Interrogations, 
 Apottrophes, Profopopeia's, Expoitulati- 
 ons, and other pathetick Forms of Di&ion. 
 
 VARIOUS are the Species of Stile, 
 the Smooth or Rough, the Natural or Af- 
 fected, the Flowing or Stiff, the Clear or 
 
 Obfcure,
 
 EPICK POETRY. 9? 
 
 Obfcure, the Simple or Ornamental, and. 
 the Concife . or DifFufive ; but the prin- 
 cipal pivifion is into Low and Lofty. I 
 fhall confine my felt' to the Laft, which 
 is the Stile requir'd in Epick Poetry. 
 
 THO the Mind fhould be ever fo happily 
 turn'd for Epick Eloquence, yet without 
 the Improvements of Art and .a well in- 
 form'd Judgment to conduft its Motions, 
 it will not be able to avoid many difho- 
 nourable Errors, nor will it. ; ever rife to 
 that Perfection of which its native Facul- 
 ties are capable. It is .true, no Difcourfe 
 is fo mafterly and prevalent, as that which 
 appears natural and dictated by the prefent 
 Paflion, and it is for this End that Rules 
 are necefTary ; for the greateft Art is re-* 
 quir'd to make it feem artlefs and unla- 
 bour'd, and the moft effe&ual Directi- 
 ons for this End fhall be afterwards taken 
 notice of. 
 
 ?;;;; id 'i)J ; to 
 
 . T o form the fublime Stile, that it may 
 anfwer the Dignity of the Subject, which 
 muft be always great and important, the 
 Concurrence of thefe Particulars is necef- 
 fary ; Elevation of Thought, a due Choice 
 of Words, and a proper Difpofitipn of 
 them ; as likewife the ufe of apt Rhetori- 
 cal Figures, and a right Addrefs to the 
 f Paffions.
 
 Paflk>ri& The Defeft of any of 
 
 bates the Paifce atfd Beauty of tnle- Sdl<* 
 
 and thUftdnfrof fonle wholly deftroys ft. 
 
 O/" ffe S u B L I M I T Y <?/ the 
 Thouglit^ 
 
 ,.. r/ .jj/. f ^'.. : < t:'4jX.U."i J Q. i *U.v 
 
 Hto^Gii^s at^e thetl'fublirne,, when 
 th^y are ccinceiv'd in an 
 r' Manner, and' am elevated above 
 ami ferfliliar Setidmehttr^ atid 
 Subhmi^ off the Id&tf impa'i'ts- ihternal 
 "" c, Vigour an'* JVfejefty to " 
 
 as tHe judicious- atid^ happy Ghdke- 
 and f exrffl^e Wdfd^ 
 
 ahd^ fplewdkl and pbHte Di&ioh, gi 
 ward^ Richnefej Elegance^- and? 
 ceiieoi 
 
 ' a-Fo^of tHis ^Kindimay raife His 
 Thoughts to a juft Sublimity for Matters* 
 of fuch Dignity and Excellence as thofe 
 Whicfrfreis (TonVeHaii^abdUti it^is nectef- 
 fay he fhoiild" fix- his> Mindi ujfth 
 thac by/ Familiarity aJtf& lon^ 
 hfe 
 
 . It is^tHfeRenlark-ofJ 
 ttlpbfTibte for a- Man i 
 vulgar T^h^ughts* to^r^ach ; that: 
 
 vaton
 
 EPIGK 
 
 vatiofl'of Mind* which is neceffary for 
 0ra>r of die firft Rank:;- Such, a 
 fays he, wilt raven i^eslc any nteng: ex- 
 traordinary, on writs' any thircgf w.Gfrcfiyj 
 of Pofterity ; and therefore he advifes 
 JMen to nourilhum their Minds ai geneifcus 
 Temper, that will always; indins: phemiooB 
 form high' and noble Ideas.: Alnckifi it-b& 
 fo necerftry for an Orator,, it isrv yet: mtKlit 
 more required of an- Hpick Poet y whofe 
 Subject is always Great and Hluftiious, L6 
 it be his Ambition to write: extraordinany? 
 Things, becoming the* Heighfandi Impere* 
 tanee ott his -Subjeft, worthy of hb Cha*- 
 radeiy and>fit to be tranfmitted 1 to-Fuoire 
 Times, he fllould- not grovd. in-thei 
 nor breach? in- thick, impure Ain,- 
 above, andi inure himfelfi toiloity 
 plation, till: by a> conftanfc Correfpoiidfences 
 and Intercourfe w^ith fuperior-Obje^ tier 
 gets a Habit of Thinking in -ehe- great: a*id! 
 devated Manner, peculiar toahcj Meaoklff 
 Boet. By this he will ber enabied to/ rifei 
 to the Heights of Heaven, and-from'thtrMSs 
 to caft himlelf down with a; generous Free** 
 dom and'R^folutionj and piling^ amidft th& 
 Depths of Nature, to difcover the fecnst?; 
 Springs of her wonderful Operation^;, andi 
 by the. fame Principle he will be capable 
 of penetrating the dark, Walks and ;myfl- 
 rious Labyrinths of Divine Providence, iaa 
 
 the
 
 96 An Ess A Y upon 
 
 the Adminiftration of Humane Affairs } 
 by which means he will colled rich Ma- 
 terials, and proper Onnaments to embel- 
 lifh his Work, and make it marvellous. 
 
 ; AND this Power of forming great and 
 extraordinary Conceptions, and laying up 
 Hoards of lively and wonderful Ideas, is 
 fo necefTary to infpire the Narration with 
 Life and Ardor, that it is impofiible by 
 any Means to fupply its Abfence. Where 
 this is wanting, all artificial Decoration is 
 idle and ridiculous; but this alone gives 
 fuch force and luftre, that without the 
 Additions of Art, it will attract our Efteem 
 and raife our Admiration. This is remark* 
 able not only in Poetical Eloquence, but 
 in that of the Pulpit, where fome Preach- 
 ers, tho not curious in the choice of their 
 Words, nor correft and muficai in their 
 Diftion, by the Sublimity of their Thoughts 
 and Divine Expreffion, accompany 'd with 
 an awful Gravity, a becoming Zeal, and 
 the ferious .Air of One in earneft, fucceed 
 far better than many who are more polite 
 and regular in their Stile. It is the Ma- 
 jefty, Strength, and Vivacity of the Ima- 
 ges, the Solidity and Loftinefs of the Sen- 
 timents, that chiefly penetrate and melt 
 the Audience; and the various Precepts of 
 Rhetorick, which of themfelves have no 
 
 Force,
 
 EPICK PoETftr. 97 
 
 Force, can only aflift their Operation i 
 Notwithftanding great Poets, as well as 
 Orators, may be defeftive in fome Points 
 that relate to external Embellishments, 
 they abundantly atone for all their Faults 
 by the admirable and excellent Senfe which 
 they every where abound with; and as 
 Longinus fays of Demofthenes and P/afo 9 
 one or two of their wonderful Thoughts 
 make amends for all their Errors. Ex- 
 traordinary Minds, as that Critick re- 
 marks, are fo taken up with great Ob- 
 jefts, that they have no Time or Incltoa* 
 tion to attend to the low and minute Af- 
 fairs ot Rhetorick, and therefore their O- 
 miflions are not fo much to be imputed to 
 want of Skill, as to Inadvertency ; not to 
 theWeaknefs of their Judgments, but to 
 the Strength and Elevation of their Con- 
 ceptions. 
 
 ' > *\ t .*"; -' 
 
 Of the CHOICE of Words. 
 
 AFTER the Sublimity of the Thoughts, 
 ** a due Choice of Words is to be re- 
 garded, which being only Marks and ad- 
 monifhing Signs to tranfmit the Senti- 
 ments of the Speaker to the Hearer, thofe 
 certainly are the beft, as moft adapted to 
 their End, which moft clearly, and with 
 the greateft Facility, reprefent the Mind 
 H of
 
 r>Es.SAY 
 
 qf the one,, audjaremoft eafily apprehends 
 <$ by the otter; and therefore, avoiding. 
 all odd and uncouth Phrafes, tow Lan~ 
 
 ;, and vulgar Metaphors, on one 
 and the vain Pomp of the falfe Sub- 
 on thp otiber^ the Epick Poet {houl{fc 
 ohufe the asiiddl6foi?t, that is, proper^ clar T 
 ^nd^ fignificanfc Words r that will not by 
 their Ba&n6fc r cflend the more Judicious, 
 nor by their Unacquaintednefe be unintel*- 
 ligjbte to-. ?ei4bns eS good Senfe, tho not 
 o^greatlieafniDg. Askis a great Miftakc 
 to; think tha elevated .Stilet it ferm'd of* 
 founding. Weeds and tofoy<Di&ion, which* 
 CQnfifts chiefiy in^ the Gc^toefs, StrengEh r 
 asndt Majefty: of. the Sentirtnents ; fo on the 
 other haxjflV the Poet rn-uft not ufe courfe 
 anal: ferniihtf; . gtpceffiori^ on ptrecence 06 
 ooav.eying hikTGhoughcs with greater eafit 
 and clearnefs ; for that would deftroy. t$t> 
 Sublime another way. 
 
 S i N c E a pbiite and finifh'd Stile de- 
 jjendsfotitlueh on a judicious Choice a 9$ 
 r-ajigiflg ,o/ the Wovds* I MiiJl be mors par- 
 tkuJar. oa. tlti^ Sy^efc-r Words, ^te the 
 Me rks aoiid Eepnefentations by wshich we? 
 comfnunicate. ctur; Conceptions to others ; 
 atid tbeije. are, ttoes for^s which we ufe for- 
 this piTrpQfq;,thfi.P!^ Strange, 'and Fk 
 The.' Plain and;Sim]^ft, whoie. 
 
 figni-
 
 EPICK 
 
 fignification is by common Cuftom fufrk 
 ciently eftablifh'd, when well chofen and 
 well difpos'd, become the Foundation' of 
 all' Eloquence : The Poet therefore a that 
 fie may write juftly and correftly, is o*- 
 Mg'd to ufe nune but pure and proper 
 Words, fueh as are authoriz'd by the moft 
 eminent and approv y $ Authors, and are 
 generally receiv r d by Men of Condition, 
 Education, and Learning^ in the Age ia 
 which he lives. 
 
 THO the Eqrfiflr have not taken fp 
 much Pains, nor inftittjred Academies, like 
 tome of their Neighbours, to refine and 
 embellifh their Language, yet the Genius 
 of the Times, ano/ the great Improve* 
 ments made in the politer Parts of Learn- 
 ing, have rais'd it to a greater height of 
 Purity than that of paft Ages. Abundance 
 of obfolete Words and fordid Phrafes ar? 
 banifh'd, not only from the Prefs and Pul- 
 pit, but from Conversation likewife ; and 
 if there be any who continue fond.of un- 
 couth and antiquated Terms, they have 
 few intelligent Perfons among their Ad* 
 mirers. The Language of the prefent 
 Times is fo clean and chafte, and fo very 
 different from our Anceftors, that Oiould 
 they return hither, they would want ari 
 Interpreter to- conv-erfe with us. And 
 H 2 why
 
 ioo An ESSAY 
 
 why fhould any be fond of an old Mode* 
 when the far greater Part are got into 
 another Drefs, and efpecially when the 
 Change is fo much more decent and con- 
 venient? It is a fordid Difpofition of 
 Mind, that makes any Men prefer their 
 ruftick and offenfive Stile, before thofe 
 pure and beautiful Forms of Speech which 
 our Tongue abounds with ; where none 
 have reafon to complain of fcarcity of 
 Words, againft which there lies no Objec- 
 tion, to exprefs their ftrongeft Sentiments 
 to the greateft Advantage. Should we 
 lay by all bafe and unbecoming Phrafes, 
 and carl off the Ruft and Drofs of Antiqui- 
 ty, we fhould ftill have enough left, not 
 only to put our Thoughts into a bare 
 Habit, but to ferve alfo for Pomp and Or- 
 nament. 
 
 AND as it ought to be the Poet's Care, 
 that in the Choice of Words he always 
 examines their Purity and Propriety, fo in 
 the next place, he ought to have great 
 regard to their clearnefs and aptitude to 
 reprefent his Thoughts. All Terms are, 
 by Ufe and Cuftom, ftampt with their di- 
 ftincT: Significations, and when many may 
 be employ 'd to exprefs the fame Thing, 
 yet fome bear a more lively Image of it, 
 and convey it with greater Eafe and Ad- 
 * vantage
 
 EPICK POETRY, joi 
 
 vantage than others. Words, like good 
 Pi&ures, are to be valu'd more for their 
 Likenefs and Refemblance,than their Rich- 
 nefs and Splendor : For if they are itrong 
 and clear they go immediately to the 
 Head, and thence diredly to the Heart, 
 and will inftruft and excite the Reader 
 more, and with more eafe than long ob- 
 fcure Sentences and tedious Circumlocu- 
 tions; which is the Reafon, why Arifto- 
 tie fo much condemns thofe Orators, who 
 affeft always a Paraphraftical way of Speak- 
 ing, when a few proper and plain Words 
 would have done their Work better, and 
 much fooner, 
 
 THE Temperance likewife and Mode- 
 fty of the Words, are Qualities that fhould 
 greatly recommend them to the Poet : 
 And thefe Vertues are found in them, either 
 in refpecTt of their Sound, or their Signi- 
 fication, or their Number: A judicious 
 Poet feeks the pureft and moft natural, 
 not the moft founding and fplendid Terms. 
 He does not reject thefe, provided they have 
 the other more deiirable Properties : But 
 he is not felicitous to bring into every 
 Line, fuch as have little elfe to make them 
 acceptable, but the Pomp of their nume- 
 rous Syllables. He does not afFe& always 
 to Ihine forth in bright Expreffions, nor 
 H 3 does
 
 An ESSAY apon 
 
 does <he foar aloft in ever Period. A de 
 cent and mafculine Stile abhors the Vanity 
 of fuch Dibion, which, wanting Thoughts 
 and Senfe to fill and animate the Senten- 
 ce^ is fo far from being ftrong and ma- 
 >eftick, that it becomes feeble and . ridi- 
 culous. 
 
 THE next Care of the Epick Poet is 
 to $referve the Chaftnefs of tbe Stile, by 
 reftraining the Luxuriancy of his Words, 
 which in Reafon Should be no more than 
 will feffl* to convey his Thoughts ; nor 
 more than .are equal and cornrnenfurate to 
 the Senfe, and adapted to the Capacities 
 of the Reader. And if this Rule were 
 o&fervM, many Writers would be oblig'd 
 to cut off great rpatt of their Poems, as al- 
 together utelefs and impertinent. Some of 
 a poor and Shallow Underifandkig, endea- 
 vour to fapply their want of Thought, -by 
 thc^redundancy of their Sentences; others 
 who indeed diink u^l, for want of SMI, 
 do oiten fo over-charge tfeeir Worl with 
 utineceflary Oiftion, that they Jofe m-uch 
 of the Beauty and Strength of rtieir -Per- 
 formance, while by maay fynonimous 
 Tsrms *r>d a Traits of long ^nd found- 
 ing Epithets, their Thoughts are over- 
 wiietei'd, and the Senfe is carry'd off in 
 a Torrent erf Words, 
 
 CARE
 
 fc Po T fc Y. to 3" 
 
 A R 'E and -Obfervation .will correft $lfc 
 Fault, which in many Poets arite frotft 
 the great Fertility of their Genius, and i$ 
 moftly incident to younger -Men, \vh6 
 have warm and a6hve Fancies, and not 
 Judgmenft'Cflwigh to reftrain their Excefles. 
 The'fe fhould therefore 'ftudy a more ffcbet 
 Conduct, 2nd hold the Reins over theit 
 Imagination more fteady, that it may ddt 
 fun on wkh that Violence and tepetuofitj, 
 to which it is naturally inclined. They iliooia 
 confider, that the Words in v^Jtich w:e 
 drefs our Sentiti>ents, like the Habits of 
 our Bodies, become beautiful and conve- 
 nient, by their fknefs and *exad Propor- 
 tion ; and tyshat is more than this, is ordi- 
 narily not only fqperfluous and ufelefs, but 
 inconvenient and burdenfome . Our 'Gsr* 
 merits are made for Defence, a'fid Decency, 
 and are not fo vaft and ntrrtieircfus as t6 
 load and ot>prefs us ; and if we Xd^ Jeweh 
 Ornaments, they are neither maiy not . 
 : If in proper Places, as in 6pic% 
 Works it very oftefi happens, the Poet w^oulS 
 appeal- with greater Splendor, as the rnoft 
 niodeil Perfons do -on folemn Qccafions, te 
 may give his Fancy greater Liberty, an'4 
 let it fhew its Plenty and Magnificepce : 
 He may not only cloath his Tnodghts in 
 iapt and plain Expreffipnsj.bxit may fotfti 
 H 4 others
 
 164- An ESSAY upon 
 others richer and wider for Pomp and 
 Pignity, if his good Senfe has Strength 
 and Majefty enough to fupport them ; o- 
 therwife there will be fuch an Excefs of 
 Words, as a fober Stile will not endure. 
 
 A s for ftrange and uncommon Words, 
 they are fuch as convey our Thoughts 
 without a Metaphor, but not without Sur- 
 prize and Novelty ; and thefe are either 
 ancient, but not obfolete, or foreign, which 
 are borrow'd from other Languages, or 
 compounded, Jrijiotle allows the ufe of 
 thefe to Poets, and fays of the firft, That 
 they render the Sentences more majeftick 
 and venerable; and the reft, asunufual and 
 furprizing, raife our Admiratipn, and give 
 .us Pleafure in the hearing : Yet he en- 
 joins the temperate ufe of them, and 
 tells us, that it requires a great deal of 
 Conduct to obferve the Decorum, it be- 
 ing very eafy to abufe the Liberty of em- 
 ploying ftrange and uncommon Words; 
 but he forbids the ufe of them to the Ora-f 
 tor ; For, fays he, only proper, familiar, 
 ,nd metaphorical, in exclufion of ancient 
 , and unufual Terms, are profitable and ber 
 -cpming in Piofe. 
 
 As to foreign Terms, it muft be ob* 
 fev'd, that fince the EnM Tongue has 
 
 - ' i_i j 
 
 cnnchd
 
 EPICK POETRY. 105 
 
 enrichM it felf with many Words borrow'd 
 from other Languages, efpecially from the 
 Latin, thefe being infenfibly introduced 
 and naturalized by Cuftorn, are no longer 
 Strangers. And tho the ufe of thefe be- 
 fore they are made free and incorporated 
 into our Language by general Confent, 
 difcovers the Writer's Vanity and AfFe&a- 
 tion, yet afterwards he may fafely and 
 laudably employ them ; only he fhould ob- 
 ferve that it will be ungrateful to the Ju- 
 dicious, if he fhews himfelf always foli- 
 citous to bring in Terms but newly ad- 
 mitted and made EngHjb, when we have 
 a fufficient Plenty befides, altogether as 
 beautiful and fignificant. But for com- 
 pounded Words, they never fucceeded 
 well in EKgli/b, either in Verfe or Profe ; 
 and tho fome Writers in Imitation of the 
 Greeks, whofe Tongue is ennobled and a- 
 dorn'd by them, have attempted to bring 
 in this Cuftom, yet they have not been 
 able to eftablifh it; our Language will 
 not bear fuch Compofitions, and therefore 
 Heart-awakeMing, Nation-deftroying, and fuch 
 like double Words, make but ill Muficfe 
 to an Englifh Ear,
 
 io6 At ESSAY 
 
 Of the RANGING of tix Words. 
 
 WHEN the T*0et has chofen the tnoft 
 pure, proper, and fignificant Words, 
 for die Ranging of them in the juftelt Or- 
 der, and the forming of the Periods, *he 
 following Rules may be ufeful. Since i 
 turning a beautiful Sentence, there is re- 
 qmf'fl a feft Proportion of {^aantity, &st 
 Pbet is t>bfigM to fcbferve a due Medio- 
 criiy between ^Kceffive Length and Bre- 
 vity ; \vlwch he wifl-do, if his Periods en* 
 tiTely *nd clearly c^qjrefs his Mind, fltid 
 arc no koger than tnay be comprehended 
 at the firft R-eading. 
 
 is more tedious and uti* 
 cfy to the R-cafler, than protrafted and 
 iridifttnft Sentences, by whkh his At- 
 tention fs broken, his Memory confound- 
 ed, and his Patience exhaufte*l. There- 
 fore Jttfhtk Condemns the continuM and 
 wnntemrpted Stile of the Ancients as moft 
 un^rateftil, and gives this Reafon fbr it, 
 That the People can never fee it finifh'd. 
 The pompous Afatick manner, '\irhere the 
 Period was never compleat, till the Senfe 
 was ended, which therefore took up an 
 iannoderate Compafs, muft be very dif- 
 ficult to be apprehended. Few are able 
 
 to
 
 E?ICK POETRY. 107 
 
 to manage fuch long and unweildy Sen* 
 tences with the Succeft that Lncer-o has 
 done it: We find, when the Language 
 and Judgment of the Romans were rais'd 
 with their Empire to the greateft Height, 
 the Delicacy and Severity of the Age would 
 not bear this tedious and difuOve Stife, 
 tho perhaps the Men that endeavoor'd to 
 retrench its Exuberance, efpeciafty Se#?ca 9 
 ran into the other Extreara, a Fault very 
 common to Reformers. But tho the Wri 
 ters in Profe were more careful to avoid 
 this Error in the Auguftan Age ; yet Hor&ce 
 in his Lyricks of the fubiirne Kind, very 
 often by fufpending his Senfe for a great 
 number of Lines, difgdfts and perplexes 
 the Reader ; Ins EKcefs in the Proportion 
 of his Sentences in his Odes is the more 
 furprizing, becaufe in his other Poems he 
 is io concife and fo frugal of Expreffion, 
 that he becomes obicure by the contrary 
 Extream. To conclude ; the Sentences 
 fhould be fo bounded and fo ^liftincl: in 
 their Parts, that the Thought may at firft 
 View be apprehended, without giving any 
 Pain or Confufion to the Mind. 
 
 ON the other hand, the Periods of the 
 Poem ought not to be too fhort, for then 
 the Stile will be fo clofe and the Stream 
 of the Narration will flow with fuch pre- 
 cipitation,
 
 io8 ^ ESSAY ufon 
 
 cipitation, that the Readers will not have 
 time to catch the Senfe ; they will be al- 
 ways embarafs'd and troubled to find out 
 the Poet's meaning ; and the quick and 
 hafty palling from one Sentence to ano- 
 ther will fo diftraft them, that they will 
 not be able to keep Company with the 
 Author. Before one Period has finifh'd 
 its Impreflion on their Thoughts, another 
 cqming fuddeniy on, effaces the imperfeft 
 Strokes of the former, which muft needs 
 difturb and difappoint the Reader. 
 
 NEXT to the due Proportion of the 
 Periods, Care muft be taken that the Words 
 be fo united as to render them clear and 
 perfpicuous ; and to this two Things are 
 requir'd, that the Connexion of the Terms 
 be eafy and natural, and that the Period 
 confifts of diftinft Members. As to the 
 firft, an Engltjh Writer is unpardonable, 
 if the Order of his Words is not plain 
 and obvious, for which perhaps no Lan- 
 guage in the World affords fuch great Ad- 
 vantages; no other admits and preferves 
 that regular Succeflion of the Words as 
 our own. In the Greek^ Latix, Italian, 
 German, and Spanifh Tongues, efpecially 
 in the two firft, the unnatural Tranfpofi* 
 tion of the Terms extreamly obfcures the 
 Sentiments of the Writer ; their Periods 
 
 are
 
 EPI CK POETRY. 109 
 
 arc inverted from the Order in which the 
 Mind form'd its Conceptions ; and if the 
 Words are the Images of our Thoughts, 
 this is to reprefent them in a very irre- 
 gular and dittorted manner ; as if a Man 
 were drawn with his Head between his 
 Feet, or his Heels in the Air : Nothing 
 being more common with thefe Writers, 
 than to begin with the End or the Mid- 
 dle, and to leave off with the Beginning. 
 The Nominative Cafe, which fhould in 
 Reafon, and does certainly in Conftrufti- 
 on, lead the Sentence, and precede the 
 Verb, in thefe Languages fometimes con- 
 ceals it felf in the Middle, and is often 
 refer v'd for the End : And there are many 
 other Tranfpofitions altogether as crofs and 
 troublefome ; and tho perhaps by this 
 means the Period may become more har- 
 monious, yet it grows much darker and 
 more perplex'd, and therefore vexes and 
 diftra&s the Mind more than it gratifies 
 and delights the Ear : And tho the French 
 are more regular in placing their Words, 
 than thofe above- nam'd, yet they range 
 almoft in every Sentence fo many Parti- 
 cles and Relatives before their Verbs, which 
 according to the Dictates of Nature and 
 Reafon ought to follow, that it greatly 
 abates the Eafinefs and Perfpicuity of their 
 Stile. But the English exprefs their Thoughts 
 
 in
 
 iia An. E s A * upon 
 
 in the fame Train aod Method in which 
 the Mind conceives them * r at leaft they 
 may do it, if they affect not to be ob* 
 ficure : When we farm; our Periods, na 
 hafty Words thcnft themfelves in before 
 their Turn,, and none linger or are left be* 
 hind to. trouble aad interrupt the Current 
 of the DifcQurfe, than= which nothing can 
 contribute more to rendbr a Stile eafy and 
 intslligiblei 
 
 i";j :' !jC 1 iL'IfiV/ ,^iGJ . 4 3ViJ::i 
 
 WHAT has been faid on this Artdcky 
 regards our Wricei's both in Verfe as Profe ; 
 ajad tho the Poet is allowed greater Li- 
 berty ia tranfpofing his Words y yet from? 
 what has been alledg'd it will f appear, thac 
 he has great Advantages from our Lan- 
 
 fiage, tor enable him to exprefs his 
 bought^ in a regular Tfcain and Soccef- 
 fion, and _by chat to< impact Perfpicuity 
 to hi 
 
 B IT x this; will not be enough^ unlefa 
 the Period -be ailfo diftinguiflx'd into Parts 
 $f fit Propordon, and regularly fticceeding 
 each other, j&fiak nequi res- this, when he 
 , " A compound Period is $ fort of E- 
 locution finifli'd, perfect for its Senfe, 
 cojififting of diftincl; Pants, and that can 
 eafily be pronounced in a Breath. " And 
 tells us, That a Period of more 
 
 Mem-
 
 EMC'K POETRY, m 
 
 Members or Articles is molt delightful; 
 mo(r perfpicuous, and morVeafily retained* 
 giving tlie Orator and the Audience time 
 to breath and reft. 
 
 Of tfe VERSIFICATION. 
 
 T> UT that which in a peculiar manner is 
 *-* required of the Epick Poet, is the Arc 
 of Verifying, which confifts in a free and 
 natural Order and Connexion of the Words 
 in a beautiful SuccefBon, a rnofical Ca- 
 dence, and a noble Train of the Periods ; 
 the Sentences fhould be full, but eafy and 
 clear, moderately extended, but not drawn 
 out fo far, as to keep the Reader too long 
 in fufpence ; which generally they will do> 
 if they exceed the length of fix Lines. To 
 avoid the Error and Deformity of uncoil 
 ne&ed and independent Couplets, which) 
 in the Writings of fotne Poets, are fo de* 
 tach'd and unconcerned with the refy that 
 the Reader may as well begin with any 
 Two, either in the Middle or the- Bnd$ 
 as with the firft, and quite invert the 
 der in which they are placed ' by the 
 thor, without any Injury done to the 
 em, by confounding the Senfe : To avoid 
 this Error, I fay, the Writer muft beware* 
 fol to unite his Lines, and make then?, in 
 .their Senfe and Conftru&ton to depend up- 
 * on
 
 Hi An ESSAY upon 
 
 on one another, and not always to compleat 
 the Sentence at the End of the fecond 
 Verfe. To avoid Monotony and Unifor- 
 mity in finifhing the Senfe, and giving a 
 Reft at the End of every Couplet, which 
 is tedious and ungrateful to the Reader, 
 the Poet fhould often run the Second Line 
 into the Third, and after the manner of 
 the Latines, and Milton, make the Stop in 
 the Beginning or Middle of it ; this will va- 
 ry the Sound that before returned to Sa- 
 tiety, relieve the Ear, and give Dignity 
 and Strength to the Narration. 
 
 WHEN the Words are thus rang'd in 
 a free and natural Order, and the Period 
 makes all itsPaufes and Advances with due 
 leifure, and each Point fucceeds in its pro- 
 per Time and Place, it will appear beauti- 
 ful, and be fully comprehended ; whereas, 
 without this Oeconomy in conducing the 
 Sentence, there will be fuch a Tumult and 
 Gonfufion, fuch a mix'd and diforderly 
 Croud of Words eroding and prefling up* 
 on one another, that the Stile muft needs 
 be dark and deform'd. As the juft Pro- 
 portion of the Periods hinders the Stream 
 of the Narration from overflowing, fo 
 this orderly ranging of the Words and di- 
 viding the Sentence into diftinft Parts, 
 faves it from being troubled and inter- 
 rupted.
 
 EPICK POETRY. 115 
 
 rupted. As to the harmonious Courfe and 
 rnufical Cadence of the Sentences, which 
 fome too much neglecl, and others infill 
 upon with too much Care, it arifes from a 
 grateful Variety of apt and melodious 
 Words happily inteimix'd, and regularly 
 fucceeding one another; whence the Pe- 
 riod, like a peaceful River, flows with- 
 out Tumult, and fupports it felf equally 
 in every Part. If the Ohjecls are noble 
 and majeftick, and the Terms fignificant 
 and well founding ; if they are fo artifi- 
 cially connected, that the Strength and 
 Firmnefs of fome uphold the Weaknefs 
 of others, that are apt to fink and creep ; 
 and the Softnefs and flowing Eafmefs of 
 thefe fmooths the Roughnefs and tempers 
 the Rigour of thofe ; the Dignity of the 
 Thoughts, and the Splendor of the Phra- 
 fes being likewife fuppos'd, the Narration 
 cannot fail of being admirable and de- 
 lightful. 
 
 HOMER and Virgil have given us great 
 Examples of Writing in this manner, whence 
 their Diftion is very beautiful and fub- 
 lime. But tho Horace in his Odes is ad- 
 mirable, and the happieft Writer imagin- 
 able in the choice of his Words v yet it is 
 evident he is defective in the difpofition of 
 them ; for frequently his Sentences are not 
 I only
 
 1 1 4 An ESSAY ufm 
 
 only too far extended, but by reafon of 
 many hard Tranfpofitions, and the irregu- 
 lar ranging of his Words, his Serrle is often 
 fo involv'd and clouded, that it is diffi- 
 cult to difcover his meaning. 
 
 SOME Poets, out of Negligence or 
 Affectation, have fuch a harih and per- 
 plex'd Stile; where the Words fo croud 
 and juflle each other, and the Phrafes 
 have fuch a flaring Look and awkward 
 Pace; where the Links of the Difcourfe 
 are fo broken, the Periods being with- 
 out diftinftion of Parts or natural Order, 
 here cramp'd with Parenthefes, and there 
 disjointed and gaping for want of Con- 
 nexion, that the Work inftead of a beau- 
 tiful Structure becomes a rude heap of 
 Words. And this was often the Cafe of 
 our Englijb Poets, before Waller attempted 
 to cultivate and refine our Diftion, and 
 led others, by his Example, to aim at Ele- 
 gance and Polirenefs. 
 
 A N D as thefe Men are juftly cenfur'd 
 for too great Neglect of their Expre(non,ib 
 are others for their too great Concern and 
 Labour about it. As a .Man may as well 
 be too finical as too fordid in his Drefs, fo 
 ii Poet may eifily exceed the Bounds of 
 Moderation and Decency, and beftow too 
 
 much
 
 EPICK POETRY. 115 
 
 much Time and Pains in turning the. 
 Periods, polifhing the Stile, and beauti- 
 fying the Phrafes. True Eloquence is 
 not fo much felicitous about its Orna- 
 ments as its Strength, and tho it loves 
 Decency it defpifes the Luxury of a wanton 
 Stile. 
 
 LONGINUS obferves of Demofthenes, that 
 he usM to embarrafs and trouble his Stile 
 on purpofe, that the People might believ 7 e 
 the Agitation and Diforder of his Mind 
 was the Caufe of this Irregularity ; fince 
 'tis not likely a A/Ian mov'd with violent 
 Pafiions, fhould be fo elegant and cor- 
 ret in his Diction, as a calm and fedate 
 Writer. 
 
 BESIDES the too Uriel: Obfervation of 
 Rules about the Choice of Words and 
 forming of Periods, will fetter and retrain 
 the Invention of the Writer; he will com- 
 pofe in fuch Fear, and his Imagination 
 will bs fo curb'd and check'd in its At- 
 tempts, that he will not be able to form 
 any great and fur prizing Ideas ; which 
 Effeft judicious Men oblerve in the Dii- 
 courfes and Writings of thofe, who are 
 exceflively curious about their Stile. I 
 confefs, 1 am very much pleasM with ele- 
 gant Phrafc and fine Expreflion ; but then 
 
 I 2 1
 
 1 1 6 An ESSAY upon 
 
 I would have QuintiliAtfs Advice obferVd, 
 That this fhining and beautiful Diction 
 be employM to reprefent Thoughts that 
 are much greater and more fublime. If 
 the Sentiments are generous and majeftick, 
 it is but fit they fhould appear in a richer 
 and more fplendid Drefs; but when they 
 are mean and common, their Habit fhould 
 be fo too. An intemperate and too anxi- 
 ous Care about the Ornaments is as un- 
 grateful, and as much to be cenfur'd as 
 our Negligence. Nejcio negligent}* m hoc, 
 an folltcitudo fit 
 
 SOME Poets, mifguided by a wrong No- 
 tion of Politenefs, cut and prune their Dic- 
 tion fo clofe, as makes it dry and barren, 
 and dwell fo long on correcting and finifh- 
 ipg, that they emaciate and ftarve the 
 Stile, which by this means wants the Spi- 
 rit, Strength, and florid AfpeQ: of a maf- 
 culine Production. While they aim at a 
 clean and elegant manner of Writing, by 
 too fcrupulous exa&nefs, they enervate the 
 Expreflion fo much, that it will never 
 rife to the true Sublime ; that is, will ne- 
 ver become rich, magnificent and admi- 
 rable, It may pleafe, but will never a- 
 ftonifb. It may be without Faults, but 
 then it will have few Beauties ; and if 
 there bs nothing to be cenfur'd, there will 
 
 be
 
 EPICK POET ITY. J 1 7 
 
 be little to be admir'd. Thefe Men are 
 not endow'd with a generous, free and 
 daring Genius, which is neceiTary for ele- 
 vated Writing, and have too much of the 
 Grammarian and Corrector to attempt lof- 
 ty Flights. Their Poetry is fo bare and 
 fpiritlefs, that it approaches near to Profe ; 
 and a profaick Poet is no more acceptable 
 than a poetical Orator : It proceeds from 
 a falfe Tafte of Elegance and Simplicity, 
 that the Poet is fo thrifty and parfimo- 
 nious in his Diction, and allows fo little 
 Expence in Ornaments. For fear of re- 
 dundance in Words, too daring Figures 
 and immoderate Pomp of Expreffion, they 
 defraud their Stile of becoming and ne- 
 ceiTary Graces. They always grovel and 
 creep below; and leaft they fbould fall, 
 are afraid to rife. Thefe Poets drefs their 
 Thoughts as Quakers do their Bodies, whofe 
 Garments are n't, clean and modeft, but 
 without Ornament. But it is certain, the 
 Habit of a Gentleman, that is richer and 
 more fplendid, is more polite and agreea- 
 ble. Should a Prince, efpecially on iolemn 
 Days, when ufually he is clad in Robes 
 of State, appear in the plain and cheap 
 Drefs of a frugal Citizen, he may look 
 neat and decent, but by no means Auguft 
 and iMajeftick. Now it fhould be con- 
 iider'd, that in the Epick Stile where the 
 I 3 Perfons
 
 1 1 8 An ESSAY ufon 
 
 Perfons are Illuftrious and the Aclion of 
 
 freat Importance, Magnificence and Splen- 
 or are always required ; and indeed Pro* 
 fufion is here fcarce a Fault, or if it be, it 
 is however more pardonable than a nig- 
 gardly Oeconomy ; and for this Reafon 
 Homer may in fome meafure be defended 
 againft the Cenfure of thofe, who except 
 againft his Stile as Redundant. 
 
 BY a too elaborate and correct Stile 
 the Author will difcover his Affectation, 
 and become obnoxious to P//>'s Cenfure, 
 Such an Orator has no Error but this, That 
 he has none. It is the Vcrtue of a good 
 Speaker and Writer fometimes to commit 
 a Fault, and by a ftudy'd Carelefnefs to 
 leave fome Blemifhes, to avoid the Vice of 
 too great Politenefs, that expofes the Art 
 by making it too vifible. All the Matters 
 of Eloquence agree, thar it is the greater! 
 Regularity fometimes to tranfgrefs the 
 Rule, for which Reafon we fee fo many 
 rough and abrupt Places, and fo many Dif- 
 orders in Number, Metre and Syntax in- 
 terfpers'd in the Orations and Poems of the 
 Greeks and Latins^ yet with fo much Beau- 
 ty and Art, that they pleafe as much with 
 their Negligence as with their Labour, and 
 from their Faults Pofterity has learned to 
 make Figures. 
 
 BESIDES,
 
 EPICK POETRY. 119 
 
 BESIDES, it is doubtful whether Epick 
 Poetry demands that exaft and polifh'4 
 Diftion, which the moft careful Writers 
 contend for ; there is fometimes a Rough- 
 nefs in the true Sublime, like that in the 
 Surface of fome ftat-ely Buildings, which 
 makes it appear, if not more Beautifu^ 
 yet more Majeftick. The Epick S^le re- 
 quires fomething above Elegance and Neat- 
 nefs, for the greateft Part it fhould be e- 
 levated and marvellous, which it may be, 
 notwithstanding fome Neglefts and Inac- 
 curacies that the Writer is not felicitous 
 to avoid ; and therefore I am apt to think, 
 that the ALneid, was induftrioufly tranfmit- 
 ted to Pofterity without that rlnifhing, 
 which the modern Criticks demand. It is 
 evident, that the Author was able to have 
 given as much Corre&nefs to his Epick 
 Poem, as he had done to his Georgicks, and 
 he wanted not Time for it, having em- 
 ploy'd many Years to bring it to Perfecti- 
 on : And therefore that he left it as it is^ 
 feems to proceed from Deliberation and 
 Choice. But there is yet a ftronger Ar- 
 gument to fupport my fuggeftion. Sup- 
 pofe that Virgil, out of Negligence, or 
 from want of Leifure or Induitry, left his 
 Poem unfinifhM ; yet let it be confider'd, 
 that after his Death the Emperor fubmit- 
 I 4 ted
 
 1 10 An ESSAY ufm 
 
 ted it to the Correction of two great Cri- 
 ticks, TUCCA and VAYIUS, the laft of whom 
 was Virgins intimate Friend, and, as Ho 
 rMe aflures us, an excellent Epick Poet ; 
 and therefore there is no doubt but thefe 
 Perfons were well qualify'd to execute the 
 CommiiTion they had receiv'd, that they 
 were capable Judges of an Heroick Work, 
 and could foon difcern the Beauties and 
 Errors of it : And as they were able to 
 find out the Errors, fo if they had any 
 regard to the Trult reposM in them, and 
 their Duty to their. Prince ; if they had 
 any Concern for the Honour of their Coun- 
 try, or the Reputation and Fame of a 
 deceas'd Friend, they muft like wife have 
 been willing to correct them ; but fince 
 they have left feveral Imperfections with- 
 out Amendment and unexpung'd, it is evi- 
 dent that thefe Criticks did not cenfure 
 them as Faults, or at leaft look'd on them 
 as fuch, as would not blemifh the Beauty 
 or debate the Dignity of an Epick Poem. 
 
 Of Cool and Sedate FIGURES. 
 
 A FTER elevated Thoughts and well 
 ** chofen Terms, the next Thing con- 
 iiderable in the Epick Stile is the Ufe of 
 Figures, or fuch Forms of ExpretTion as 
 raife the Difcourfe above that of common 
 
 Conver-
 
 EP I C K Po ET RY. Ill 
 
 Converfation ; which are fedate and calm, 
 or vehement and paflionate : Of the firft 
 fort, which concern the beautiful Order, 
 mufical Cadence, and acute Signification 
 of the Words, as well as the fpiritful and 
 furprizing Turns of the Diction I look 
 on a Metaphor to be the moft ufeful, as 
 that which principally ennobles and adorns 
 the Narration of an Heroick Aftion, by 
 making it Figurative and Allegorical. 
 
 A METAPHOR is an oratorical Fi- 
 gure, that reprefents one Object by the 
 means of another, and is of all others of 
 the fedate fort, the moft lively and impref- 
 five ; the Ingenuity and Sharpnefs of our 
 Conceptions chiefly confift in joining No- 
 tions, that have a great Likenefs between 
 them,tho found in diftant and very different 
 Objects, in which while the Mind conceives 
 and compares many diftincl: Qualities and 
 Habitudes, as it obferves great Diflimili- 
 tude between fome, fo it difcerns certain 
 Relations and Refpecls in which others 
 are alike; and thenfingling outthofe Ideas 
 that refemble each other from the reft, it 
 makes uie of one to exprefs the other. 
 It requires therefore a metaphyfical Ab- 
 ilradion to form a Metaphor ; and where- 
 as other Figures are employ'd only about 
 tho Words and the Order of them, this 
 
 pene-
 
 m An ESSAY upon 
 
 penetrates the Notion of Things, and 
 fearches Affinity and Agreement among 
 the moft oppofite and difagreeing Objefts. 
 Therefore to form a Metaphor, as Ariflo- 
 tlt obferves, is requir'd great Activity and 
 Sagacity of Mind, fince it muft run through 
 fuch variety of Subjects, and fo many dif- 
 ferent Relpefts and Confiderations under 
 which they fall, to find out the Similitude 
 of two Notions, from the Union of which 
 the Metaphor refults. So that while other 
 Figures doath and adorn our Thoughts 
 with Words, this enlivens and embellishes 
 the Words by our Thoughts, whence it 
 becomes the moft agreeable of all Figures. 
 Others may raife the Narration from a flat 
 and low Manner, but this gives it all that 
 it has of furprizing and extraordinary. 
 The Strangenefs and Ingenuity of repre- 
 fen ting one Object by another, ftrikes the 
 Reader with agreeable Admiration. We 
 are gratrfy'd to fee an unexpected Idea 
 prefented to -our Understanding, and won- 
 der at the beautiful Conjunction of No- 
 tions fo feparate and remote before ; and 
 whatever is marvellous is delightful too ; 
 as we always fed a Pleafure at the fight 
 of Foreigners and their Garments, fo the 
 Mind rejoices to fee an Object out of its 
 ordinary Drefs, and appearing by the help 
 of a Metaphor m the Habit of a Stranger: 
 
 At
 
 EPICK POETRY. 113 
 
 At the fight of fuch unufual and wonder- 
 ful Images, we are as much pleas'd as 
 with the fudden changing of Scenes, or 
 with the curious and extraordinary Works 
 of Art or Nature, which we never faw 
 before, 
 
 IF the Acquifition of Knowledge with- 
 out Pains and Trouble is agreeable to us, 
 this Figure has the Advantage of all o- 
 thers, fince it leads the Mind with great 
 fwiftnefs from one Objecl to another, and 
 in one Word reprefents more Things : 
 And as this is delightful to the Reader, fo 
 it is exceeding ufeful to the Poet, who by 
 this means will have great Plenty of Ideas 
 in his Imagination, and be always fup- 
 ply'd with apt and lively Expreffion, 
 which the Poverty of his Language and 
 the Scarcity of Words could never have 
 furnifh'd ; for when-ever a proper Term 
 is wanting, which happens very often 
 in the moft copious Tongue, a Metapho- 
 rical one is always at hand to make good 
 that defect. 
 
 NEITHER do thefe Figures afford Ne- 
 ceiTaries only, they likewife enrich and 
 beautify the Di&ion, being difpers'd like 
 fo many Stars or fparkling Jewels through 
 the whole Compofition. drijiotle makes 
 
 all
 
 1 24. An ESSAY ufm 
 
 all that is extraordinary and admirable ro 
 confift in thefe foreign Images, than which 
 nothing can more heighten and illuftrate 
 the Sentiments, or give more Force and 
 Dignity to the Stile. Thus as the ufe of 
 Garments, which is Cicero's Remark, was 
 at firft introduc'd by Neceffity, but did foon 
 after ferve for Pomp and Magnificence ; 
 fo tranflated and metaphorical Words, 
 which the Sterility of their native Tongue 
 and the want of proper Terms oblig'd 
 Men at firft to ufe, were quickly em- 
 ploy 7 d as Ornaments to give Splendor and 
 Majefty. 
 
 NOR is it lefs certain, that many Dif- 
 courfes would not only lofe their Beauty, 
 but their Force and Spirit too, if the me- 
 taphorical Words fhould be chang'd : for 
 the Proper are unable to convey the 
 Thoughts of the Poet with fuch Advan- 
 tage; and this happens chiefly where In- 
 tellectual Notions are reprefented by o- 
 thers deriv'd from the Senfes. The Soul, 
 while immers'd in Flefh, is oblig'd to acl: 
 iu a great meafure dependent on the Bo- 
 dy ; and having been long accuftom'd to 
 receive her Ideas from the Objeds that 
 pafs through the Senfes, (he contrafts a 
 great Propenfion to conceive every Thing 
 by that way of Conveyance ; and when that 
 
 can-
 
 EPICK POETRY. 125 
 
 cannot be obtain'd, the Mind afts in Pain 
 arid feems uneafy and diflatisfy'd. And 
 therefore to affift her, and render her Con- 
 ceptions more lively, eafy, and delightful, 
 we put our Intelleftual Ideas into a fo- 
 reign Drefs, borrow'd from the Senfes. 
 Hence we fay, the Sight or Blindnefs of 
 the Underftanding, the Bent or Biafs of the 
 Will, the Sweetnefs of Knowledge, the 
 Beauty of Vertue, the Deformity of Vice, 
 a muddy or a clear Head, and a thou- 
 fand other fuch Modes of Speech may 
 be obferv'd ; and no proper Word can in 
 thefe Cafes fignify our Sentiments fo well. 
 Hence in the facred Scriptures, the fu- 
 pream Being is pleas'd to teach us fpiri- 
 ttial and Divine Things by fenfible Re- 
 prefentations ; fuch as the Kingdom of 
 Heaven, an Incorruptible Crown of Glo- 
 ry, the Breaft- plate of Faith, the Sword of 
 the Spirit; and an infinite Number more 
 of the like Expreflions might be mention'd. 
 
 A s to the Rules that concern the Poet's 
 Choice and Conduct of this Figure ; in the 
 fir ft place care fhould be taken, that it be 
 not oblcure, which it will be, as often as 
 it is conceiv'd in Terms not eafily under- 
 Itood, or when the Notions are iearch'd 
 and fetch'd too far ; the JMmd muft be 
 furpriz'd at the Novelty of the Image, 
 
 but
 
 Il6 An Ess A y ufon 
 
 but not put to any Trouble to find out 
 the Similitude, which gives Being to the 
 Metaphor ; and therefore it mutt be fo 
 represented, that the Under (land ing may 
 at the firft View perceive the Agreement. 
 Nor muft the Analogy be founded on too 
 nice and fine Considerations, nor exprefs'd 
 in Terms to which a competent Reader 
 is not accuftom'd ; for either of thefe will 
 darken the Metaphor, as that will deform 
 the Diftion, the Beauty of which much 
 confifts in its being clear, and eafy to be 
 understood. 
 
 A METAPHOR muft alfo be exactly 
 proportion'd, other wife it will be ungrate- 
 ful or ridiculous. I do not mean, that 
 there fhould be no DiiTimilitude or De- 
 formity between the Objects, for very 
 lively Figures of this fort are found in 
 Things very oppofite ; but that there fhould 
 be a juft Refemblance or Conformity be- 
 tween thofe two Notions or Refpecls, that 
 are abftraclcd from the reft, and united 
 in the Mind of the Poet, when he forms 
 a metaphorical Idea. Therefore he that 
 has the moft active Imagination, and that 
 can with a quick and fearching View pafs 
 through Multitudes of Objeds, examine 
 their Nature, and penetrate their feveral 
 Qualities, that can readily difcern their A- 
 t
 
 EPIC K: POETRY, iij 
 
 greement and Differences, feparate the Like 
 from the Unlike, and join thofe together 
 that exactly reiemble one another, will be 
 the moft able to form thefe juft and well 
 proportioned Figures, which the Mailers 
 of poetical Eloquence fo much admire. 
 
 ANOTHER thing demanded is, that 
 the Metaphor be eafy and natural, which 
 it will be, if in the Translation of the 
 Word from its proper Place to that where 
 it ferves as a Figure, it may feern to come 
 willingly and not by conitraint; other- 
 wife it will appear itudy'd and affecled, 
 and inilead of pleafing, will greatly offend 
 the intelligent Reader. But if the two 
 former Rules are obferv'd, this Error will 
 be avoided ; for Metaphors are then forc'd 
 and unnatural, when they are either fetch 'd 
 from Objects too remote and uncommon, 
 or if from others more familiar and known, 
 yet the Notions are not well proportion'd 
 and adapted one to another. If the Me- 
 taphorical Image be too little or too fhort, 
 the Reprefentation will be lame and im- 
 perfect ; if it be too narrow and ftrait, it 
 will pinch and fit uneafy on the Objecl to 
 which it is apply'd, and if it be not fuf- 
 iiciently refin'd and feparated from Notions 
 unlike and difagreeing, it will become ir- 
 regular and deform'd. 
 
 IT
 
 1 28 An ESSAY upon 
 
 IT is requir'd, that a Metaphor {hould 
 not be bafe or fordid; the Writer mufb 
 not reprefent one Object by another, whofe 
 Image will be juftly fhocking to fober 
 and modeft Readers : For tho the Simi- 
 litude, which is the Foundation of the Me- 
 taphor, may be clear and perfect bet ween 
 the two Notions, which he compares, 
 and tho that Refemblance only is expreft, 
 yet fince the Word, which he ufes, con- 
 veys an aflbciate Idea, which is indecent 
 and ofTenfive, at the reading of it the 
 noxious as well as the innocent Meaning 
 is awaken'd in the Mind, which can fcarce- 
 ly conceive the one without the other. 
 The Gravity and Dignity of the fublime 
 Character will oblige the Epick Poet to 
 forbear fuch Metaphors, which by their 
 Courfnefs will be misbecoming his impor- 
 tant Subject, and by their Sordid nefs will 
 difguft the Reader. If Words of a double 
 Signification, of which one is impure, 
 are juftly cenfur'd in Low, Lyrick, and 
 Comick Poetry, then it muft be allow'd 
 to be infufferable in Heroick Works, where 
 all Things (hould be Chafte, Grave, and 
 Great. 
 
 IN the next place, the Metaphor in 
 
 Epick Compositions {hould not be gay and 
 
 * too
 
 EPICK POETRY. 129 
 
 too delicate, for that will emafculate the 
 Stile, and inftead of inftruftiBg, abufethe 
 Mind, and draw it off from the folidand 
 marvellous Part of the Narration, to ad- 
 mire a Train of fine Words, and the In- 
 genuity of the Conceptions. Many Me- 
 taphors are fo light and fparkling, and dif- 
 cover fo much youthful Fancy, that the 
 Dignity of Heroick Poetry will not en- 
 dure them. As the Ufe of thefe will be- 
 tray the Levity and Oftentation of the Poet, 
 which extreamly misbecomes his Cha- 
 racter ; fo it tends to vitiate the Tafte of 
 the Reader, who will be always hearken- 
 ing after bright Sayings, and defpife the 
 noble Sentiments and moral Inftruclion of 
 the Fable. 
 
 ANOTHER Rule is, that the Meta- 
 phor be not pufh'd too far, left it become 
 tedious and ungrateful; this is a Fault for 
 which Italian Authors are juftly cenfur'd, 
 their Metaphors are often fo extended that 
 they tire the moft patient Reader ; and 
 it is by this means that their Stile grows 
 redundant and obfcure. It is an Error to 
 lengthen a Comparifon till it takes up 
 great room in the Difcourfe, and much 
 more is it fo to continue and amplify a 
 Metaphor, which is a narrower way of 
 Expreflion than by a Similitude ; for thac 
 K aflerts
 
 150 An ESSAY upon 
 
 aflerts the Things to be the fame, but this 
 affirms only that they are alike, and 
 fhews wherein they are fo. Metaphors, 
 as faid before, when well chofen, give 
 great Life and Vigoi to the Narration; 
 out if they are excefiive, they make it 
 ^/Enigmatical and turn it all to Allegory. 
 This efpecially will lie the Event, if they 
 are as intemperate in .their Number, as 
 their Length : Figures of .Eloquence are 
 chiefly chofen to fupply the Deteft: of pro- 
 per Words ; and when they are fought for 
 Delight, and to give a Reliih to the Nar- 
 ration, they muft not be fo many as will 
 make it lufcious. 
 
 :.}'. ... . zftu.n-.I'j'r'jt'J! *r\ 
 
 ANOTHER Rule is, that the .Metaphor 
 be not too bold and lofty ; for the Effect 
 of this will be a flatulent and bloated Stile. 
 Such hardy and fwelling Figures fit about 
 the Object which they are intending ; to 
 exprefs, like loofe and wide Garments up- 
 on a Man that walks againft the Wind ; 
 it is more defirable to fink and creep 
 ftian to be always tow'ring amidft the 
 Clouds. .It is enough to be now and 
 then in the fecond Region, the Store-houfe 
 of Metaphors as well as, Meteors;: but. to 
 be always in this noify and tempeftuous 
 Place, forming ftrong and daring Figures, 
 will by no means become the Chaitnefs, 
 
 Gravity,
 
 EPICK POETRY. 131 
 
 Gravity, and Elevation of the Epick Di- 
 
 ftion ' : ,,**> 
 
 ANOTHER Direction to be obferv'd 
 is, that the Metaphors, how acute foever 
 they are, be not chofen and introduced 
 purely for their own fakes. As it is im- 
 pertinent to ftrain the Fancy upon every 
 Occafion for fome ingenious and polite Fi- 
 gure, to gratify the voluptuous Tafte of 
 the Reader, fo nothing more plainly dif- 
 covers the Vanity and Orientation of the 
 Poet, than when he exerts his Genius and 
 fliews the Riches of his Fancy, where there 
 is not the leaft Occafion for it. I allow, 
 that an Epick Poet may, and ought to 
 ufe Art in adorning his Stile ; but if the 
 native Luftre and Dignity of his Senti- 
 ments does not break through and eclipfe 
 the Splendor of the outward Ornaments, 
 the Narration will be flat and difagreeable. 
 The Beauty of a good Poem refcmbles 
 that of a healthful iMan, which fpnngs 
 from within, and arifes from the Abun- 
 dance and Vivacity of his Spirits, from his 
 vital Heat and the regular Motions oflSK 
 Blood. A Soldier may polifh his Arms 
 till they fhine and glitter, and by that may 
 dazle and terrify his Enemy ; but it is their 
 Edge and Strength that he will confide in, 
 and not their Brightnefs. 
 
 K 2 THOSE
 
 _.,, 
 1 3 $ ^4w ESSAY ufon f 
 
 THOSE Poets who are greatly coil* 
 cern'd to raife and adorn their Narration, 
 fljould remember Cicero's Remark, That as 
 it falls out almoft in all Things, fo it does 
 in Poetical, as well as Oratorical Works, 
 That thofe very Things that are moft ufe- 
 ful and profitable, have always moft Dig- 
 nity and Gracefulnefs. In the glorious Fa- 
 brick of the World, if we contemplate the 
 regular and harmonious Order of the Parts 
 One would think the Author defign'd 
 only to raife our delightful Admiration ; 
 if their Neceflity and Ufefulnefs, that he 
 refpected only our Profit and Advantage. 
 In the Structure of Man, all the Parts are 
 form'd with fo much Wifdom, are fo ex- 
 actly proportion'd and dependant on each 
 other in fuch admirable Order, where no- 
 thing is either defective or fuperfluous, 
 and nothing to be alter'd, either for its Fi- 
 gure, Place, or Connexion, but to the great- 
 eft Difad vantage, that all Things appear 
 fhap'd and united intirely for Beauty and 
 Majefty, and yet nothing feems contriv'd 
 but for Ute and Convenience. When in 
 this manner good Senfe is fet off with the 
 genuine Beauties of Poetry, the Compo- 
 fure will be both admirable and ufeful, and 
 yet fo eafy and natural, that notwithftand- 
 ing there is in it the greateft Art imagin- 
 able.
 
 Epi C K Po ET RY. 133 
 
 able, no Labour or Mark of Affe&ation 
 will been feen. 
 
 THE laft Rule I fhall mention about 
 Metaphors or Tranflated Words is, that 
 they always ought to be vary'd fo as to 
 be accommodated to the Subject of the 
 Difcourfe, Sublime and excellent Things 
 muft not be reprefented by others that are 
 bafe and vJe ; nor mull a low and hum- 
 ble Matter aflTume a pompous and magnifi- 
 cent Figure ; fuch a Decorum is to be ob- 
 ferv'd in changing thefe Ornaments, that 
 they may be Magnificent or Modeft, Sub- 
 lime or Humble, Splendid or Plain, Calm 
 or Paflionate, as the Subject is to which 
 they are apply'd ; and this Variety, as it will 
 render the Diftion very Beautiful and Na^ 
 tural, fo it will greatly contribute to the 
 Fleafure and Advantage of the Reader. We 
 are foon cloy'd with a Writer that always 
 runs on in one beaten Track, that ftill enter- 
 tains us with the fame fort of Phrafes, and 
 has only the Sun and Clouds, and two or 
 three more ftale Topicks to furnifh his 
 Difcourfe with metaphorical Ornaments. 
 An Heroick Poet fhould have fuch fega> 
 city of Mind, and fuch a fertile Imagina- 
 tion, that he need not be oblig'd, whatever 
 his Subject is, to cloath it ftill in the fame 
 Drefs. ; for tho it fhould be ever fo decent 
 K and
 
 1 34 sin Ess \v upon 
 and proper, and ever fo well adjufted, 
 yet it will be an Argument of the Po- 
 et's Poverty, as well as an Offence to the 
 Reader, if he is always feen in the fame 
 Habit. 
 
 HAVING difeours'd at large of Meta- 
 phors, which are the principal Figures of 
 the Gobi and Sedate Kind, I fhall pafs 
 by the others of that fort, which are not 
 confiderable enough to be fingly difcufs'd. 
 
 Of AMPLIFICATIONS, DESCRIP- 
 TIONS, and SIMILITUDES. 
 
 AMPLIFICATION is nothing elfe but 
 fuch a juil Diffufion of the Senfe, as 
 is proper to attain the Poet's End, which 
 is to raife Admiration and Joy ; and there- 
 fore the Stile fhould be fo far enlarg'd, as 
 a jull Impreflion, on the Reader's Mind 
 makes ic neceflary. In plain Tranlitions 
 and Hiftorical Recitals, the Diftion is to 
 be kept in more moderate Bounds; for in 
 fuch Iriftances a few proper, well-chofen, 
 and well-plac'd Words will fufficiently fig- 
 nify the Writer's Mind, where a natural 
 and decent Simplicity is only demanded. 
 
 BUT
 
 E"p i c : K POET R Y. 1 3 5 
 
 BUT, on the other fide, the Poet rauft 
 take care, that the Senfe be not fo much 
 diluted and difpers'd as to weaken its Spirit, 
 and hinder its EfFecl. Words are but the 
 Vehicles of the Thoughts, and therefore 
 muft be in fuch a meafure as the Ideas can 
 well animate ; not fo numerous as to en- 
 feeble them fo far, that they will not be 
 able to move' the Reader. As a clofe and 
 concife Stile impnfons the Sentiments in 
 too ftrait Limits, fo this contrary Error 
 ftretcbes them out into fuch a thin Expan- 
 fion, that they hover in the Air without 
 Force and Weight.' 
 
 THAT the Senfe may not be too poor 
 and weak by fpreading out the Thoughts 
 too much, the Poet Ihould take care to 
 draw iMatter from the various Circum- 
 ftances of the Subject fufficient to fupport 
 his Stile, and fecure it from languifhing. 
 Some Perfons have an extraordinary Feli- 
 city in this way. Longtmts obferves it in 
 Cicero, and we may take notice of the 
 fame in many others, as well Poets as Ora- 
 tors, who, tho they give themfelves li- 
 berty, and take up a great Com pafs with 
 their diffufive Diftion, yet ftill they find 
 Supplies to maintain their Difcourfe in 
 equal Vigour, which they take from all 
 K 4 Things
 
 l%6 An ESSAY upon 
 
 Things that nearly refpect and ftand a- 
 bout their Subject, where they always dif- 
 cover fomething agreeable to their Pur- 
 pofe, and fit to furnifh them with noble 
 Ideas. 
 
 AMONG all the Ornaments of a fub- 
 lime Stile, there are none that give it more 
 Beauty and Spirit than well-drawn Ima- 
 ges and juft Defcriptions, which are fo 
 many lively and clear Delineations of an 
 Object intellectual or fenfible. This Fa- 
 culty of forming Poetical Images, feems 
 to excite an Apprehenfion of a diftant 
 Thing, by giving a Reprefentation of it 
 to the Ear, as Painting does to the Eye; 
 but the former has this great Advantage, 
 that it does not only exprefs the outward 
 Lineaments and Complexion, but alfo the 
 internal Principles of Life and Motion, 
 not only of Corporeal Beings, but like- 
 wife of the Soul and Immaterial Natures. 
 When the Mind of the Poet has by vi- 
 gorous and intenfe Contemplation maiter'd 
 the Object, and form'd a true and bright 
 Idea, it ftamps the Impreflipn on proper 
 and well-rang'd Words in fo ftrong a manner, 
 that the abfent Object feems in fome fort pre- 
 fent to the admiring Reader : And as this 
 difcovers the Regularity and Vivacity of the 
 Poet's Sentiments, and the Extenfion and 
 
 Force
 
 EPICK POETRY. 137 
 
 Force of his Imagination, fo it (hews like- 
 wife his Skill in choofing and difpofing 
 of his Words; both which united cannot 
 but meet with great Succefs, if the Things, 
 whofe Images he reprefents, are truly 
 Great and Sublime. 
 
 H EN c E by an eafy and natural Meta. 
 phor the Poet is faid to paint, and his De- 
 icriptions are call'd Pictures, which as oft 
 as they are of a due proportion, pertinent, 
 juft, ftrong, and a lively Expreflion of the 
 Objefts reprefented, they are not only 
 great Beauties and Ornaments of the Work, 
 but they recreate and relieve the Reader 
 by an agreeable Variety, retard the Ra- 
 pidity of the Narration, and make it flow 
 with a more gentle and fedate Courfe, 
 which is neceflaiy to a Writing of fuch 
 extent, as that of an Epick Poem. If the 
 Defcriptions are luxuriant or very frequent, 
 as they incumber the Poem and weaken 
 its Force, fo they misbecome the Gravity 
 and Dignity of the true Sublime, anddif- 
 cover a wanton puerile Genius, which is 
 always intemperate in this Article, But 
 when kept in due Limits, the Poetical 
 Images enliven and beautify the Poem, 
 which is obferv'd in Homsr\ Vlyffes and 
 VirgiPs JLneid', in which the Reprefenta- 
 tion of Gardens, Palaces, rich Furniture, 
 
 magni-
 
 1^8 An 
 
 magnificent Feafts, Rivers, Embattles, Tri- 
 umphs, and various other great Ideas, add 
 Splendor and Ornament to the Poem. 
 
 A Si M i L i T u D E is an Illuftration of 
 anObjeft, by comparing it with another 
 in fome Qualities and Refpe&s in which 
 they agree ; and this- is a great EmbeHifh- 
 ment of the Writing, when the Refem- 
 blance between thofe two Objects is ex- 
 prefs'd fully, clearly, and with Strength 
 and Spirit ; but if the C-omparifon is lame 
 and imperfect, or -if it runs off into Cir- 
 cumftances remote and foreign to that Qua- 
 lity or Relation in which the Similitude is 
 founded, it will lofe its Effect, and not 
 illuftrate, but rather obfcure the Poet's 
 Sentiments. And this is evidently a Fault 
 in Homer, who amplifies and fwells his Si- 
 militudes by the Recital of Circumftan- 
 ces altogether impertinent to his Bufinefs ; 
 and even where -there is fome Refem- 
 blarice, it is often fo dim and defective, 
 that it is not obvious and eafily difcern'd ; 
 which made a great Wit in the laft Age 
 fay, That he never met with any Things 
 fo unlike, as HomeY\ Similies. If the V/- 
 milies are extended to a great Length 
 they grow tedious to -a judicious Reader, 
 and if they are very frequent they fufpend 
 the Aftion too much : If they are bafe and 
 "r' courfe,
 
 EPICK POETRY, 159 
 
 courfe, which many of Homer's muft be al^ 
 low'd to be, they offend again ft the Dignity 
 of the Epick Stile. There is no Rule to fet- 
 tle the Length of a Comparifon, it muft be 
 determin'd by the Nature of the Thing. 
 If it does not fully and clearly exprefs the 
 Refemblance between the Objefts com- 
 par'd, it is too fhort; if it does more, it 
 is weak and redundant. It is therefore 
 ridiculous to affirm, that becaufe Virgil 
 and Homer have never exceeded fuch a 
 number of Lines in their Similitudes, this 
 Proportion muft be a Rule to all other 
 Poets, as if Examples and not the Reafon 
 of Things were to guide our Choice. Some- 
 times the Simile may be difpatch'd in a 
 Line or two, fometimes it will demand a 
 greater number; moft commonly four or fix, 
 fometimes eight or ten Lines, and fome- 
 times yet more will not be redundant. Tho 1 
 Homer lias fometimes crouded one -Simi- 
 litude upon another to illuftrate the fame 
 Thing, and Virgil has follow'd his Exam- 
 ple; yet if one Simile be ftrong and fully 
 expreflive, a fecond, and much more a 
 third, is, in my Opinion, fuperfluous and 
 offeniive. Similitudes, like other Figures, 
 being the Ornaments and Jewels of the 
 Diftion fhould therefore be fparing; the 
 Garniture and Trimming fhould be enough 
 to fet off and adorn, not fo profufe as to 
 
 cover
 
 1 4.0 An E s s A Y upon 
 
 cover and hide the Garment ; and thefe 
 Comparifons fhould be moft us'd, where 
 the Subjeft is dry and uniform, as in 
 Sieges and Battles, where the fame Matter 
 often returning, would other wife grow fiat 
 and tedious to the Reader. 
 
 Of Vehement md 'Patbetick FIGURES. 
 
 T C o M E now to the vehement Figures 
 * of Speech, which regard the Paflions, 
 and which no Poet will manage with Suc- 
 cefs, without his own innate Fire ; I mean, 
 that warm and ative Temper which we 
 mention'd before, as requir'd on Nature's 
 Part ; give him the cleared Head and the 
 moft fertile Imagination, without this Poe- 
 tical Fervency he will never be able to 
 do any thing wonderful. It is true, this 
 generous Impulfe or Ardor of Spirit, if 
 left at liberty and unguided, is liable to 
 many Mifcarriages and diflbonourable Er- 
 rors, and therefore I fhall lay down the 
 Rules which concern its due Conduct, 
 after I have fpoken of the Ufefulnefs and 
 Neceffity of the Pathetick Figures to the 
 Sublime Stile. 
 
 A MASTERLY Way of touching the 
 Paflions is always demanded in the upper 
 Species of Poetry, and tho it is chiefly re- 
 quir'd
 
 EPICK POETRY. 141 
 
 qutr'd in Tragedy, which is more aftive 
 and vehement, yet it is likewife nece.flary 
 in Epick Works ; and therefore what Ari- 
 ftotle, Cicero, Longinus, and Quintilian fay, 
 of the Necefiity and Ufefulnefs of Pathe- 
 tick Figures in Oratory, is equally appli- 
 cable to the fublime Poetical Eloquence. 
 Longinus fays, I dare affirm there is no- 
 thing that raifes a Difcourfe more than a 
 Paffion difcreetly manag'd. It is like a 
 fort of Infpiration, that animates the Dic- 
 tion, and gives it fuch Force and Vigor, 
 that it feems altogether Divine. Cicero 
 fays, all the Energy and Strength of Elo- 
 quence is to be exprefs'd in exciting or 
 quieting the Paffions ; and in another place 
 fays he, who is ignorant that the greateft 
 Force of an Orator confifts either in ex- 
 citing in the Minds of Men Anger, Ha- 
 tred, or Grief, or in reducing them from 
 thefe Emotions to Tendernefs and Com- 
 pafTion : And he affirms, that Orator will 
 do nothing that is not acquainted with the 
 Nature of Man, and the Means by which 
 his Paffions are mov'd and govern'd. 
 
 QUINTILIAN lays fo great a Strefs upon 
 moving the Paffions, that he prefers this 
 Faculty of the Orator even to his Proofs 
 and Reafons. He fays, That Men of a 
 narrow Spirit and (lender Vein of Wit may, 
 
 by
 
 An E S-S.A Y ufon 
 
 by the Affiitance of Learning and Ufe, 
 come to fome Maturity in the Laft ; and 
 of thefe, fays he, there has been always 
 a great Number : But for Orators that can 
 command the Audience, and transform 
 their Minds into what Shape and Ap- 
 pearance ihey pleafe, thefe have been 
 very Few* Let the Orator, fays he, 
 $udy how to ftorm and impel the Minds 
 of the Audience ; this is his Province, 
 this is his Labour, without which all 
 Things will be naked, jejune, feeble, 
 and ungrateful; as if the Spirit and Soul 
 of Eloquence confided in managing the 
 Affedions. Jriftotle, who lays the great* 
 eft Strefs upon the Proofs and Arguments, 
 yet relies not a little on the paffionate 
 Forms of Expredion, and fays, That Men 
 of a warm Complexion are of all others 
 the mod fuccefsful in the Art of Eloquence. 
 And therefore he teaches Orators to ex- 
 prefs themfelves in a pathetick manner; 
 which they will do, fays he, if in treat- 
 ing of an Offence or Injury receiv'd, the 
 Difcourfe feems to come from a Man in 
 Anger ; or if they mention any thing im- 
 pious or bafe, they feem to fpeak of it 
 with Indignation and Averfion; and on 
 the contrary, whilft they heat of any 
 great and laudable Action, they exprefsan 
 extraordinary Joy and Satisfaction ; and 
 * if
 
 EPICK POETRY. 145 
 
 if the Subject is fad and worthy of Com- 
 paffion, the Difcourfe be ferious and ac- 
 company'd with a becoming Sorrow. Thus 
 likewife fpeaking of the Choice of Words, 
 he fays, that greater .-Liberty 'is permitted 
 to the Orator, when he has, as it were, 
 tranfported the Hearers out of themfelves, 
 whether by Praifes or Invectives, by his 
 Anger or by his Joy, or the Motion of any 
 other vehement Paflion. 
 
 IT is for this Reafon that the great 
 Teachers of Eloquence have left fo many 
 Rules and Precepts about the Nature of 
 the Paflions,' and the moft effectual Me* 
 thods to excite them. For this End Art" 
 ftotle has given a very exaft Defcription of 
 them, as well of thofe that predominate 
 in the different Ages of Life, as in the 
 different Ranks and Condition of Men ; 
 that the Orator being acquainted with the 
 particular Tempers and Difpofitions of his 
 Audience, and the true Ways of fpeaking 
 to the Heart, he may manage and govern 
 them with eafe, and lead them where- 
 ever he pleafes. And what Breaft will be 
 able to hold out againft a Speaker that is 
 well appriz'd of all its weak and indefen- 
 fible Places, who -is not only able to pof- 
 fefs himfelf of all the Paflages, but knows 
 how to form and keep an Intelligence 
 
 with-
 
 144 ^ ESSAY upon 
 within, and to attack it with his utmoft 
 Force in the very Seafon when 'tis pre- 
 par'd to furrender ? That Orator will 
 make himfelf Mafter of any Spirit, that 
 can aflault it with fuch Ad vantages, that can 
 command the Paflions, thofe Storms and 
 Winds of the Soul, and they obey him. 
 
 LONGINUS tells us, at the latter End of 
 his Treatife, which is come to the Hands 
 of Pofterity, that he defign'd to write a 
 Tract apart about the v P4J/Mw. And Ci- 
 cero, where above-cited, declares his Opi- 
 nion, That it is impoffible to be an Orator 
 without the Knowledge of their Nature, 
 and the Art of moving them. And as this 
 is their general Doctrine, fo we find their 
 Practice was conform'd to it. Cicero ad' 
 mires Demoftbenes for this, That he never 
 fpoke a Sentence but in a warm and pa- 
 Chetick way : Such was the Violence of his 
 Figures, fuch the Majefty of his Thoughts, 
 fuch the Force of his pailionate Complexi- 
 on, that a Man might as well ftand againft 
 Flafhes of Lightning, or ftem a rapid 
 Torrent, as hold out againft his Perfua- 
 fion. And Cicero, who was call'd the La- 
 tin Demofthenes, was like him in nothing 
 more than his artful manner of addref- 
 fing himfelf to the Affections. With what 
 Vehemence of Spirit, with what Energy 
 * of
 
 Efl C K P0 ETS Y. 145 
 
 of Expreffion does he aflault Verfes, Cati- 
 line, and Anthony ? With what bitter and 
 fharp Inveftives .does he purfue them ? 
 In how lively and tragical Shapes does he 
 reprefent their Crimes ? What Sentence 
 does not penetrate and wound the Perfon 
 he accufes ? How bold, how ftrong, how 
 irrefiftib'le are all his Figures ? Is it pof- 
 fible to. (land againft the commanding 
 Force of his Exagerations, Exprobations, 
 Threatnings. and Exhortations? Like a 
 Temped, like a Deluge, like a 1 Conflagra- 
 tion, he (batters, diffolves, (hakes, and o- 
 verturns all Things in his way. Are not 
 Quintilia.ri<s Declamations likewife full of 
 thefe moving and warm Expreflions? Does 
 he not every where force his Entrance by 
 the violent Affaults he makes an this Quar- 
 ter ? And had not C^pr's Eloquence beeri 
 accompany'd wfth' the fame Vehemence 
 and Ardor, which he exprefs'd in the Field, 
 he had never been honoured with fuch 
 Succefs. When Cicero gives the dilHnct 
 Characters of the feveral famous Orators 
 of his Time, this paffionate way of Ad- 
 drefs makes a great part, u Sulpitius, fays 
 w he, had fuch a vigorous Impulfe of 
 " Mind, fo full and fo loud a Voice, fuch 
 " Agitation of Body, and Dignity of Ge- 
 " (lure, and that Gravity and Plenty of 
 " Words, that no Genius feem'd better 
 L t turn'd
 
 An E s s A y 
 
 " by Nature for the Art of Speaking* 
 And afterward, u Do you obferve, fays 
 " he, the Manner of Speaking proper to 
 " Anicnius, ftrong, vehement, full of Mo* 
 " tion, on evefy fide fenc'd and guarded^ 
 " earneft, acute, clear, fifting every Thing, 
 <c purfuing eagerly, terrifying, befeechirig,- 
 " with the greatest Variety of Oration, 
 " but with no fatietv of our Ears wh0 
 " hear him. w 
 
 THUS in the Opinion of thefe great 
 Men, that Orator will not fail of perfuad- 
 ing, who is thus acquainting with the 
 Avenues of the Mind, and knows how, 
 by the force of his Sentiments, the violent, 
 warm, and aSive Forms of his Expreflion, 
 to lie and prefs like a ftrong Wind upon 
 die Audience, till he drives them this or 
 that way, as he leans upon them. 
 
 WHAT thefe Matters fpeak of pathetick 
 Figures in Rhetorick, may, with parity 
 of Reafon, be apply'd to all the fuperior 
 Kinds of Poetry, where Proofs and clofe 
 Argument are not fo much requir'd, as in 
 Oratorical Performances. Perfuafive Ad- 
 drefs, Skill and Capacity to work up the 
 Paffions, and touch all the Springs and 
 Movements of the Soul, are fo neceflary 
 tp Tragick and Epick Poets, that it is not 
 
 poffible
 
 EPIGK POETRY. 147 
 
 poflible they fhould fucceed without them; 
 For how fhall one of thefe Writers 
 move Terror and Compaflion, and the. 
 other Admiration and Delight, without: 
 the Art of changing the Soul by thefe vari- 
 ous Emotions ? The Intlances of this kind 
 are endlefs, which might be produc'd out 
 of the Conferences, Speeches, and Conrefts 
 of the Iliad and the &mid, of which that 
 of Dido to Aeneas is one of the moft ad- 
 mirable for its paflionate Eloquence: But 
 no Works whatfoever afTord more Exam- 
 ples of pathetick Expreflions than the Sa- 
 cred Writings. Is it poffible to ufe more* 
 moving Language, and more piercing Fi- 
 gures than thofe which every where they 
 abound with in the Poetical and Prophe- 
 tick Parts? How majcllick and terrible; 
 are the Threats, and how earneft the Ex- 
 hortations of the Prophets ? How fharp 
 and penetrating their Reproofs ? How a- 
 wakening their Admonitions? How paf- 
 donate their Expoftulations ? How feW 
 Sentences are there in the Pftlms, that are 
 not caft into fome of thefe lively Forms ? 
 Nor in the New Teftament are they lefs 
 frequent. St. Patil, the great ApofUe of 
 the Gentiles, employs every where this ve^ 
 hement Diction ; he intreats, befeeches, 
 terrifies, reproves, exhorts, and expoftu- 
 lates with filch variety of violent pathe* 
 L 2 tick
 
 1 4.8 An ESSAY upon 
 
 tick Figures, that the Kingdom of Heavert/ 
 by fuch a Management, feems to invade^ 
 and take the Auditors by Force. It is ob- 
 fervable too, that we rind the Forms of 
 Prayer addrefs'd to God by devout Men 
 recorded in the Scripture*, full of thete 
 figurative ExprefTions, as if they were de- 
 fign'd to perfuade the Almighty, by mo- 
 vmg fome Paflion to change his Purpofe ;' 
 which manner of Invocation evidently 
 fhews, that this is the moft effectual way to 
 prevail with Men> which we chufe to in- 
 cline the Will of God. 
 
 BECAUSE I look on the vehement Forms 
 of Speech in the fublime Parts of the Scrip- ; 
 ture, for their Greatnefs, Majefty, and 
 Force in moving the Soul, as fuperior to 
 any in the Pagan Poets, I will felect from 
 tfiem fpme Examples. What more Ten^ 
 der and Compaffionate than this ; Ephra- 
 im, what fljall 1 do unto thee ? Ifrael, what 
 {ball 1 do unto thee ? for your Goodnefs is <t$ 
 A Morning Cloud, and as. the early Dew it 
 faffes away. How fhall 1 give thee up y E- 
 phraim, how {hall I deliver thee, Ifrael ? 
 How fljall I make thee AS .Admah ? How 
 full I fet thee as Zeboirri ? My Heart is 
 turned within me, my RepeMtings are kindled 
 together. Ifrael, thou hajt dejiro)ed th} 
 felf) but in me is thy help As 1 Jive, faith 
 
 the
 
 EPICJC POETRY. 149 
 
 the Lord, 1 have no Pltafure in the Death of 
 A Sinner, turn ye, turn yc, for why mil ;<? 
 die, Houfe of Ifrael. 7- P Jerufalem, Jeru- 
 falem, thou that killeft the Prophets, And fto~ 
 neft them that are font unto thee, horv often 
 would I have gathered thy Children, as a. Hen 
 gathereth her Chickens under her Whig, and ye 
 yould not ? 
 
 As to Ironical Forms of Speaking, which 
 have great Force to move the Pa (lions, that 
 of Elijah to BaaPs Prophets, when they 
 had a long time invok'd their God, in 
 vain, to anfwer them by Fire, is very far- 
 caftical and cutting ; Cry aloud, for he is a. 
 God, either he is talking, or he is purfuixg, 
 or he is in a Journey, or per Adventure he 
 Jleepeth, and muji be awaked. And that of 
 the wife King to inconfiderate Youth ; Re- 
 joice, young M^n, and let thy Heart chear 
 thee in the Days of thy Touth, and walk in 
 the Ways of thy Heart, and in the Sight of 
 thy Eyes ; but know thou, that far all theft 
 things, God will bring thee into Judgment, 
 
 A s to the Forms of calling to Witnefs, 
 which are alfo very Paffionate, we have 
 feveraj Examples of them in St. Paufs fi- 
 piftles God is my Record, how greatly I long 
 after you in the Bowels of Jejus Cbrijl 
 I therefore becaufe 1 love you not, Gedknomth. 
 L 3 IK-
 
 j 50 <$& Eg s AY upon 
 
 INSTANCES of Repetition, which is 
 a more vehement Reflection upon what 
 has been faid, to make a ilronger Impref- 
 fion of it on the Minds of the Hearers, 
 are fuch as thefe ; What thing /ball I fake 
 to Witmjs forthee? What thiag /ball I liken 
 to thee, Daughter of Jerufalem ? What 
 (ball I equal to thee to comfort thee, Virgin 
 Daughter of Zion ? - Woe, Woe to the In- 
 habitants of the Earth, by re*fon of the Voices 
 of the three Angels that are yet to found Woe 
 unto you Scribes and Pharifees, Hypocrites^ 
 for ye ffitit the Kjngdom of Heaven, &c.^r- 
 Woe unto you Scribes and Pharifees, Hypo- 
 crites, for ye devour Widows Houfes, &c. * 
 Woe unto you Scribes and Pharifees, Hypo- 
 crites, &c. 
 
 As to Forms of Admiration, what can be 
 greater than that Epiphonema of St, Paul^ 
 the Depths of the Riches both of the Wif- 
 dom and Kjwiv ledge of God, how unfa arch able 
 are his 'judgments, and his Ways pa. ft finding 
 out /-And that, Death, where is. tkjStwg y 
 Grave when is thy Vittory / 
 
 FORMS of Exclamation are fuch as, 
 thefe ; Qfool/jb Galatians, who hath bewitched 
 you, that you (bould. not obey the Truth. And 
 of the Prophet againft Jerokoa%?$ 
 
 tar;
 
 EPICK POETRY. 151 
 
 tar; Alt AY, Altar, thus faith the Lord, 
 Behold, &g. 
 
 THERE is nothing more common than 
 Interrogations in Scripture, which fome 
 Matters of Eloquence call the Vigorous 
 and Divine Forms of Speaking. All the 
 infpir'd Writings, that are not Hiftorical 
 or Genealogical, fo abound with them, 
 that we meet with them in every Chapter, 
 and almoft in every Verfe. That of St. 
 Paul, wherein he Queftions and Anfwers 
 himfelf, is a way extreamly apt to touch 
 the Readers ; Are they Hebrews ? fo am I. 
 Are they Minifters of Chrift ? 1 Jfeak as 4 
 I am more. 
 
 THAT Profopopeia of 'Job concerning 
 Wifdom, is very noble ; The Depth faith, 
 it is not in me. Deftrufthn and Death fay, 
 ive ' have heard the Fame thereof with our 
 Ears, &c* 
 
 THAT Apoftroptje of Ifaiah is very mo- 
 ving ; Hear, Heavens, and give Ear 
 Earth, for 1 have nourifl.ed and Brought up 
 Children, and the) have rebelled againft me. 
 And this that follows, which fuppofes 
 both Hearing and Speaking in inanimate 
 Things ; Sing, O ye Heavens, for the Lord 
 hath dons it : Shottt the lower Parts of the 
 L 4
 
 > f 
 
 Earth, break forth into (wring ye Mount Air^ 
 O forrefi a nd every " Tree tierem ; for tli? 
 Lord bath redeemed Jacob, and glorified him- 
 fdf in JfraeJ. 
 
 ,,' J > v .' 
 
 THE Forms of Exhortation are fa many 
 and io well known., that I need not fet 
 down any Example. 
 
 THOSE of Commanding are very mo- 
 ving ; Tucrj is that of 'St. Paul, Tell me all 
 je that depre to he under the Law, &C 'And 
 the fame figure us'd by Jo/buj. to the ljra$+ 
 lites, is very great and imprefllve ; Chcoft 
 you this Day whom ye will ferve, the Gods 
 whom )0ttr Fathers Jerved, that were on the 
 other fide of the Flood^ or the Gods of the 
 Amorites, in rvhofe Lan^ ye dwell ; hut as 
 for me and yiy Houfe^ w$ will ferve the Lord* 
 
 THE Poet fliould feel thofe Emotions 
 of the Soiil, which he would raife in o.- 
 thers ; and if his Expreffions are warm 
 and animated with his own Paflion, they 
 Will eafily transfufe the fame Life and 
 pergy into the Breaft of the Reader, who 
 is alto always affecled as the Pqet is ; and 
 therefore the Divine Fire mutt be firft 
 kindled in the Writer/ who defigns to 
 convey his Impulfe and Sentiment tQ the 
 Minds of Qth.^rs. 
 
 BESIDES
 
 E?I CK Po ET RY. 153 
 
 BESIDES, the ilrong and lively Impref- 
 (ions of the Poet have this Ad vantage, That 
 they give Fertility to his Fancy arjd Faci- 
 lity' to his DiHon ? and the moft natural 
 and perfuafive Forms to his Exprefftons. 
 A Man mov'd with Anger, Sorrow, or 
 Pity, never wants proper XVords, fit Lan- 
 guage, or a fuccefsful manner of Elocu- 
 tion. Hence it is that miferable Men havq 
 fomething more perfuafive in their Expref- 
 fion and way of Addrefs, than the politefj: 
 Poets and Orators in the World. And 
 thofe, who upon other Occafions had very 
 indifferent Rhetorical Faculties, have learn'4 
 that prevailing Eloquence from their Paf- 
 fions, which the greater Matters could ne- 
 ver teach trjem. 
 
 BESIDES, the Paffions give acutenefs 
 to the Underftanding, quicken and enlarge 
 the Fancy, by expanding, and, as it were, 
 inflaming the Spirits, or by fixing the Ima- 
 gination intenfely on its Object, that the 
 Mind may be able to view all the Circum- 
 uances of the Thing it contemplates, and 
 {o form a clear and powerful Image of it. 
 Thus we find that fome Difeafes, by ra- 
 rifying the Blood, and giving quicker Mo- 
 pons to the Spirits, make Men fluent in 
 Words and fruitful in their Thoughts, tha 
 
 rnoft
 
 154 An ESSAY ufon 
 moft commonly they want Judgment to 
 conduct them. I conclude therefore witbj 
 what Quintilinn fays on this Subject, -which 
 Confirms the? Aflertion of Arijlotle, men- 
 tion'd before; let thofe things move our 
 felves which we defire fhould move o^ 
 thers, and let us be affected our felyes, be- 
 fore we attempt to affect them : By this 
 means the Poet will accomplifh his Deflgn,, 
 and not only transmit his Words to the 
 Ears, but his Soul into the Breafts of his 
 Readers. 
 
 To the true Sublime in one Extream, is 
 oppos'd the 'fwelling and fuftian Stile; 
 where weak and trilling Thoughts are fet 
 off with all the Ornament that founding 
 Worc|s and pompous Periods can beftow, 
 while {he (lender Senfe is effac'd with too 
 much Colouring and Decoration. As this, 
 gfren happens on the Theater, when the 
 Tragick Poet, that wants Judgment and 
 Strength of Imagination, would fupply the 
 Defect of great and elevated Ideas, by 
 turgid and wind^Diction, and attempts to 
 terrify the Audience by the mere Power 
 of raging Words, or melt them into Cohi- 
 paiTion with render and gentle Metaphors ; 
 to in the other upper kinds of Poetry, this 
 Error is frequently committed by Writers 
 of a low and barren Genius, who incum- 
 
 ' ber
 
 EP I CK Po ETRY. 155 
 
 ber and ftifie their jejune and vulgar Senti- 
 ments by improper and redundant Expref- 
 fion, for which more Authors than Starius 
 are juftly cenfur'd. Tho the Words fhould 
 be \vellchofen, and ranged with the great- 
 eft Exaftnefs; tho the figures fhould be 
 juft and fplendid, and no external Gra- 
 ces fhould be omitted, this will not pafs 
 for fublime Eloquence, if good Senfe and 
 lofty Conceptions are wanting, which fhould 
 warm and enliven the Compofition. 
 
 THAT which is oppos'd to the true 
 Sublime in the other Extream is the flat 
 Stile : where the Thoughts are low and 
 puerile, the Diction familiar, eourfe, and 
 fometimes defective in the Art of vulgar 
 Rhetorick, where the Phrafes are bafe and 
 ruftick, and the Metaphors dark, poor, or 
 fullbme, and the whole Difcourfe is a fad 
 variety of Things ill conceiv'd, ill exprefs'd, 
 and huddled together without Order 
 Contrivance^ 
 
 APPEND
 
 156 tin ESSA,Y upon 
 
 A N 
 
 .i-vllft ?y-!, v ' : .V'F* C:'fi *'t;3$ft& 
 
 4 P.P E N D I X. 
 
 MANY Years ago, in the Preface to 
 the Paraphrase on Job, I declar'd 
 againit the decifive Power of Authority, 
 and refus'd Submifliontq'the Examples of 
 ancient Writers, unlefs they were fupport- 
 by Reafon ; and fince it i evident, that 
 among the Moderns we have no Originals, 
 their Poets being all Imitators, who form'd 
 ttiemfelves on t}ie Greek and Latin Models, 
 I exprefs'd my Willies that fome great 
 Genius, qualify'd for fuch an Undertaking, 
 would break t;he Ice, afifert the Liberty of 
 Poetry, e^d ftriking off from a fervile Imi- 
 tation of the eldeft Plans, would attempt 
 an Epick Poem, in fome meafure, of a dif- 
 ferent Caft, but agreeable however to the 
 Nature and Conltitution of that Species 
 of Poetry ; fuch as niight bear a Confor- 
 mity to the Tafte of the prefent Times, 
 and to the Cultoms, Manners, and efta- 
 blifh'd Religion of the Author's Country. 
 I was not without Hopes that fome Per- 
 
 fons
 
 EPI CK POETRY. 157 
 
 fonsof a free Spirit, Learning^and Capacity, 
 would have improvM the" Hint, and by 
 feconding my Attempt, have carr^'d on 
 the DeGgn much farther ; that by difin- 
 gaging our Poets from PrepofTeflion, they 
 would have enlarg'd their Freedom, and 
 dcliver'd thcin from blind Obedience to 
 Antiquity, and their Servitude to Opinions, 
 receiv'd only upon the Credit of celebra- 
 ted Names. But fo great was the Preju- 
 dice of the polite Part of the Nation in 
 favour of the ancient Poets, that it was 
 look'd on as no lefsthan down-right He- 
 refy in Poetry r to entertain any new No- 
 tions, that had not the Example of Hcmer^ 
 and the Warrant cf driftvtie and his Com- 
 mentators to bear them out ; nor would 
 any Man faiJ of being iiniverfally con- 
 demn'd as a Perfon of dangerous Princi- 
 ples, and difaffe&ed to the Interefts of 
 Learning, that fbould write or fpeak any 
 thing contrary to the Sentiments of Men 
 of fuch Erudition and facred Authority ; 
 I had therefore no Followers. The Anci- 
 ents, efpecially Homer , continue in full Pof- 
 fefiion of their Reputation and Power. 
 
 BUT fince the Writing of the forego- 
 ing Difeourfe, I have read two French Cri- 
 ticks, who have lately flood up with great 
 Courage in the Defence of the juft Exer- 
 
 cifc
 
 158 An ESSAY tij, 
 
 cife of Reafon, in examining the Writers 
 6f the moft eftablifh'd Credit. I acknow- 
 ledge it is a Satisfaction, as it Confirms me 
 in the Belief of my having pafs'd a right 
 Judgment, to fde two Perfons of iuch a 
 polite Tafte, of fo much Penetration and 
 good Senfe, fall in with my Opinion, and 
 warmly engage in the fame Defign, of 
 vindicating the Rights of Humane Nature, 
 of fetting prepofleis'd Men at Liberty, and 
 feftoring to them the free Ufe of their Un- 
 derilandings. Their Adverfaries exclaim 
 againft them, as prefumptuous and prag- 
 matical Innovators, Men that from a proud 
 and petulant Temper have reviv'd the 
 Schifm of Pen-ault ; whofe Arrogance, fay 
 they, was fufficiently chaftis'd, while his 
 Notions were abundantly confuted by the 
 able Pen of Dejj>reai/x. The other fide, iri 
 their Defence, difown all Partiality to the 
 Modems, and difrefpecl to the Ancients; 
 they declare, they have no other Inten- 
 tion, but to feek and difcover the Truth 
 by an impartial Inquiry into the celebrated 
 Poem of Homer ^ and accufe the Criticks that 
 fland by him, as Perfons blinded with 
 Prejudice and guilty of fuperftitious Ado- 
 ration of his Writings, anfing from the 
 Applaufes they have receiv'd from fo many 
 learned Men 'in all Ages. Perraalr, fay 
 they, was born down by the fuperiot 
 
 Strength
 
 EPICK POETRY. 159 
 
 Strength and Judgment of his Rival ; and 
 notwithstanding his Caiife was good, lie 
 mifcarryM by an ill Management ; that he 
 was unequal to the Undertaking, and by 
 feveral Errors and Mi (lakes, .gave an occa- 
 fion of Triumph to his Adverfary. But 
 then, fay they, tho this Gentleman for 
 want of fufficient Skill and Conduct, faiPd 
 in his Attempt, at which no Man fhould 
 be furprizd, fmce it was the firlV of the 
 Kind ; yet this does not bar the Right of 
 any Men to refume the Controverfy, who 
 hope they can carry it on with a greater 
 Profpea of Succefs. Thus a critical War 
 is bioke out in FrAsu, and the Mufes arc 
 engag'd in Civil Contentions, while one 
 Faction is for pulling down the Authority 
 of Homer, and the other frrenuoufly op- 
 pofes, and maintains the Credit of that 
 Poet. In my Opinion, the Difputants on 
 either fide are partly in th& right, and 
 have divided the Truth between therty 
 tho perhaps the AggrefTors have the great- 
 ell Share ; while the Poets that depreci- 
 ate and decry Homers Poem, ftand up for 
 the Privilege of Mankind, and the Reafon- 
 ablenefs of examining the Evidence brought 
 in favour of any Opinion before they em- 
 brace it ; while they affirm, that Example 
 and Authority are not Pveafon and De- 
 monltration, and that every Man has a 
 
 Power
 
 160 An E s s A Y itfon . 
 
 Power of deliberating and weighing thd 
 Arguments producM on each fide of the 
 Queftion, and a natural Right of judging: 
 for himf If ; laftly, while they affert that 
 impartial Criticks may freely fife the Wri- 
 tings of the greateft Name and Authority ; 
 and where they believe they are not back'd 
 with evident Reafon, to cenfure and con- 
 demn their Pradice, thus far their Opi- 
 nion will bear the Teft. For it is certain, 
 that no Man's Understanding was ever de- 
 fign'd as a Standard for .mine, any more 
 than mine was intended as one for his. 
 No Example is to be. followed, but as ie 
 is juft and reafonable ; and how fliall it 
 appear fo, if we have no Liberty to exa- 
 mine it? Univerfality and Antiquity are; 
 to be look'd on with Refpeft and Reve- 
 rence; but fince they have been often .pro- 
 duc'd to fupport manifeft. Errors in Philo- 
 fophy as well as in Religion, and have. 
 therefore been often rejected, why (hould 
 they be regarded as infallible in Poetry ? 
 I fhall therefore readily allow, that the 
 Moderns have an undoubted Right ta 
 judge of the Works of the Ancients, and 
 to appeal from Homer and Ariftotle them- 
 fejves, to the Decifion of Reafon. But 
 then it muft be allow'd, that great Care 
 and Caution fhould be cs'd that our De- 
 terminations be iuft and folid, when we 1 
 
 deviate 1
 
 EPICK POETRY. 1 6 1 
 
 deviate from the general Practice and Qpi- 
 nion of Men of eminent Learning and 
 Candor through many fucceflive Ages. 
 
 As in my Judgment the critical Ag- 
 greifors fall too feverely on this famous 
 Poet, and attack various Places, that may 
 well be defended ; fo on the other hand, 
 their Adverfaries engage in too difficult a 
 Province, when they undertake in all 
 things to fupport him. The firft fhew a 
 free Spirit, and have, to their great Ho- 
 nour, difingag'd themfelves from a fervile 
 Submiflion to the Underftandings and 
 Dictates of the greateft Men, and by 
 their Example have encourag'd a difin- 
 terefted and unprejudiced Exercife of our 
 Reafon. Their Adverfaries feem more 
 fetter'd with PrepofTeflion, and by favour- 
 ing too much the arbitrary Dominion of 
 Authority and Antiquity, would check 
 the generous Efforts of modern Genius's, 
 whofe Aim is to improve the Art of Poe- 
 try, and allow them only the Honour of 
 being Imitators and Copyers of the An- 
 cients. 
 
 MIGHT I prefume to offer my Media- 
 tion to thefe contending Fa&ions, that this 
 Difpute may be brought to an amicable 
 Conclufion, and that for the future angry 
 M la-
 
 161 An Es s A Y 
 
 Invectives, and the unneceffary Effufion 
 of more critical Learning may be pre- 
 vented, I would propofe that each Party 
 fhould lay by their Prejudice, make fome 
 Conceffions,and relinquifh fome Pretenfions 
 that now they infift upon with too great 
 Obftinacy. It is not to be doubted but 
 there are great, if not equal Prejudices on 
 both fides ; When a Perfon has fpent many 
 Years in (tudying the learned Languages, 
 and acquainting himfelf with the ancient 
 Writers, it will be very difficult for him to 
 part with the Superiority which he thinks 
 he has acquir'd in refpect of others, who 
 are comparatively unvers'd in thofe Stu- 
 dies ; he will be apt to look with Con- 
 tempt on thofe that cannot pretend to fo 
 much Learning, and have little to truit to 
 but Reafon a folid Judgment, and a good 
 Tafte. If I yield a controverted Point, 
 will he be apt to fay, to the naked Deci- 
 fion of Reafon, how much Time have I 
 fpent in vain ? How many Volumes have I 
 turn'd over, and how many Common Pla- 
 ces .filPd to po purpofe? What will be- 
 come of all my Reading? What will all 
 my Citations and Authorities avail, if 
 young petulant Writers, without Givofrand 
 Antiquity, fhall be allow'd to difputc the 
 receiv'd Maxims of Poetry, fupported by 
 the general Suffrages of the learned World ? 
 
 It
 
 Epick POETRY. 163 
 
 Jt is not, I fay, reaibnable to fuppofe, that 
 thefe Perfons will eafily recede from their 
 fuppos'd Advantage of Erudition, tho it 
 is little more than that of a Grammarian 
 and Commentator, to degrade themfelves, 
 and level their Character with that of 
 Men of mere Genius and an arguing Head. 
 Whence it comes to pafs, that thefe Per- 
 fons (tho of all Learning that of the Com- 
 mentator and Antiquary, which is the fole 
 Effect of Labour and Memory, is the low- 
 eft) are the moft remarkable for a faftidi- 
 ous Temper, and appear always ready to 
 take the Chair and dictate to Mankind, 
 But to compofe thefe interline Feuds and 
 prepare Terms of Accommodation, it is 
 necefTary that thefe Perfons fhould [hew a 
 more candid and difinterefted Spirit, and 
 at leaft be willing to acknowledge every 
 thing that is plainly prov'd againft them. 
 
 NOR is it reafonable to fuppofe, that 
 on the other hand the Champions of the 
 Moderns are always freed from Prepoflef- 
 fion ; that they are not prejudic'd in the 
 Favour of the prefent Age, of their own 
 Country, and their own Performances: 
 May they not envy the fuperior Fame 
 and Reputation of the ancient Writers 
 eftablifh'd by the concurrent Applaufe of 
 learned Men through fo many Ages, and 
 M 2 be
 
 164 dn Es s AY upon 
 be very well pleas'd to pull down a mighty 
 Power, which has fpread fo far, and laft- 
 ed fo long, that upon the Ruins of it they 
 may ereft an Empire of their own ? Some, 
 perhaps, may be willing to fink the E- 
 ileem of the eldeft Authors, that they them- 
 felves may not feem to want any Excel- 
 lence in not underftanding the learned Lan- 
 guages, or to mortify fome fupercilious 
 Commentators, whofe whole Stock of Me- 
 rit confifts in expounding thofe Authors, 
 and difolaying their fuperficial Beauties. 
 When iuch Reafons as thcfe have prevaiPd 
 with Men of Wit and Letters, to efpoufe 
 the Interefts of the Moderns againft the 
 Ancients, their Engagement to a Party, 
 and their Zeal for the Honour of carrying 
 the Caufe and triumphing over their Com- 
 petitors, will ftill increase their Prejudice, 
 lay a Biafs on their Underftanding, and 
 prevent an impartial Judgment: We fre- 
 quently fee the greateft Sticklers for a free 
 Exercife of Reafon, and the moft vehe- 
 ment Exclaimers againft the arbitrary Pow- 
 er of Authority, as much enflav'd to their 
 Prejudice againft the Ancients, as the o- 
 ther Party is to theirs againft the Mo- 
 derns. 
 
 I PROPOSE therefore, that the Lea- 
 ders of the Moderns Ihould examine and* 
 
 weigh
 
 EPICK POETRY. 165 
 
 weigh the Ili^d without Prepoffeflion, pre- 
 meditated Ill-will, and an obftinate Refo- 
 lution to be pleas'd with nothing in it ; 
 that they would not fhut their Eyes to 
 the fhining and excellent Parts, and open 
 them only to the Errors and Imperfecti- 
 ons. I allow, that the greateft number of 
 the Advocates for the eldeft Poets, from 
 an Oftentation of Judgment and Penetra- 
 tion, and to raife the Efteem of their Eru- 
 dition, can find out nothing but admirable 
 Senfe, pure Diction, and inimitable Con- 
 trivance in the Iliad and the ALneid; and 
 employ all their Critical Abilities fometimes 
 to extenuate and excufe their Defeats, and 
 fometimes to improve them into Vertues 
 and Perfections, while they look upon the 
 modern Writers with Contempt and Pity ; 
 and as they can difcover no Faults in the 
 firft, fo they can fee no Beauties in the laft. 
 But then, on the other fide, let not the 
 Champions of the Moderns fo far refent 
 this Partiality and ill Ufage of the later 
 Poets, as out of Revenge to imitate the 
 Example of their Adverfaries, by cenfur- 
 ing and condemning the Ancients to an 
 unmerciful extent, and denying them the 
 Praife which is really their due. Let them 
 not enrich and advance the Moderns, by 
 robbing and degrading their PredecefTors 
 and Matters ; but let them weigh their 
 M 5 Merit
 
 1 66 An ESSAY upon 
 
 Merit in impartial Scales, and do Juftice 
 to one without defrauding the other. If 
 they difcern Flaws and Errors in the firft, 
 let them take notice of their Perfections j 
 if in the la ft they obferve many Beauties, 
 let them not be blind to their Blemifhes 
 and Defers. Let Candor and Judgment 
 reign through all their Obfervations on 
 either fide, that the Reader may not be 
 tempted to fufpeft the Equity and Since- 
 rity of the Critick, while he fees him 
 tranfported to indecent Exceffes by an in* 
 temperate Zeal in a Party Caufe. 
 
 i , >,V r f ' - - 7 r '^ ti'' J ' ! i '* "" 
 
 A s to the Concefllons to be granted by 
 each Party. In the flrft place, I fhould 
 judge it reafonable, that the Champions of 
 Homer fhould no longer continue in their 
 Intrenchments of Authority and Antiqui- 
 ty, defend themfelves byPrefcription, and 
 draw about them Legions of Authors of 
 their own Opinion for their Security ; but 
 that they fhould agree to quit their Fait* 
 neiTes and come forth into the open Field ; 
 there let them oppofe Reafon to Reafon, 
 Argument to Argument, and let the ftrong- 
 eft and cleareft Evidence prevail. For it 
 is no Demonftration that their Judgment 
 is Right, becaufe a Multitude of others 
 have the fame Sentiments. Arifodft Nc- 
 tions in Philofophy were, for many Ag^s, 
 
 as
 
 Ep I CK Po ET RY. 167 
 
 as univerfally receiv'd by the learned World 
 as Homer's Poetry, and efteem'd as the 
 Dictates of the moft profound Judgment 
 and Oracles of Rcafon ; yet, after he had 
 reign'd in the Schools many Centuries 
 with unconteited Authority, upon Exami- 
 nation he was difcover'd to have no juft 
 Claim to this great Dignity ; he was found 
 out to be an Ufurper, ftrip'd of his Ti- 
 tles and Regalia, and not only degraded, 
 but treated with the greateft Contempt. 
 Unlefs the Admirers of Homer will alTert 
 and prove their Infallibility, why may they 
 not be deceiv'd as well as the Difciples 
 and Adorers of Ariftotle ? And if fo, what 
 Argument can be brought why they fhould 
 not fubmit their Poet to an impartial Trial ? 
 It is in vain to urge the Suffrages of Anti- 
 quity, againft clear and folid Argument. 
 In this Cafe Citations are neither pertinent 
 nor ufe fill, for the Authors of former Ages 
 are difqualify'd from giving their Votes in 
 a Matter of this Nature ; no length of 
 Time, no not three Thoufand Years, is a 
 fufficient Prefcription to bar the Claim of 
 Reafon, which has an undoubted Preroga- 
 tive to feize upon its Rights, when, and 
 wherever they are difcover'd. 
 
 IT is very plain, that the Admirers of 
 
 Homer (hould give him up in fome Inftan- 
 
 M 4 ces,
 
 1 68 An Es s AY upon 
 
 ces, in which it is too difficult to fupport 
 him ; and (Ince it muft be acknowledg'd, 
 that no Production of Humane Under- 
 ftanding is faultlefs, and that the Intel- 
 lectuals of Mankind are not more perfect 
 than their Morals, it is no diflionour to 
 any Author, that he is not intirely free 
 from Imperfection ; and therefore one has 
 reafon to fufpeft the Sincerity of any Cri- 
 tick or Commentator, that {hall obitinately 
 defend every thing in a prolix Author, 
 and not allow, through the whole, the 
 lead Error or Blemifh, efpecially when in 
 fuch a Defence he is obliged to make end- 
 lefs Apologies, and many times fuch as 
 are forc'd and unobvious, and rather inge- 
 nious and fubtile, than natural and folid ; 
 and this is often the Cafe with the Advo- 
 cates of the Iliad. 
 
 THEY fhould, in my Opinion, yield to 
 their Competitors, that there are coniider- 
 able Flaws and Defects in the Contrivance 
 of the Fable, in the Propofition, the Sub- 
 ject, the Connexion and Dependance of 
 the Epifodes, which have been detected 
 by Rapiv, and by two later French Wri- 
 ters; the laft of whom has examin'd the 
 Plan, as well as all the Qualities of that 
 Poem, with more Penetration, Exaftnefs, 
 and juft Obfervation, than all that have 
 
 writ
 
 EPICK POETRY. 169 
 
 writ before him on that Subject. And 
 when their Ad ver fanes object to them the 
 Indecency and Abfurdity in the Actions 
 and Manners of the Gods, who are drawn 
 by Homer, not only with Impropriety and 
 Inequality of Character, but with all the 
 Paflions and Infirmities, that are the Shame 
 and Reproach of Humane Nature ; in this 
 Cafe they had better, in my Opinion, yield 
 the Point to their Opponents, and demo- 
 lifh all the Works they have caft up for 
 the Security of thefe paultry Deities, and 
 give them up as defenceless and unwor- 
 thy of their Care ; for it is impoflible to 
 make any Apology, that will cover this 
 faulty Conduct of the Poet. 
 
 IT is but juft Jikewife, that they fhould 
 withdraw the Protection of the facred Wri- 
 tings from the frequent Repetitions in Ho- 
 mer, and acknowledge that it is an Error 
 that admits no Excufe ; for if any other 
 could have been made, I imagine, no Cri- 
 tick would have fearch'd for one in the 
 infpir'd Books. A Difpurant muft be hard 
 driven in a Debate about Poetry, that is 
 oblig'd to defend the Practice of Homer 
 from the Stile of the Scriptures, which 
 were no more intended to inftruct Man- 
 kind in the Rules of Poetical or Oratori- 
 cal Eloquence, than in Architecture, Paint- 
 ing,
 
 170 An ESSAY uf&n 
 ing and Natural Science. It is true, the 
 Sentiments in the Poetical and Prophetick 
 Parts of the Bible are as great and elevated, 
 and the Figures as bold, ftrong and ex- 
 prelTivc as can be found in the moft cele- 
 brated Works of the Ancients ; but as that 
 Accuracy ,Correftnefs and Perfeft ion, which 
 the Rules of Poetry and Eloquence* de- 
 mand in a finifh'd Piece, are fometimes 
 neglecled in the Stile of the Sacred Scrip- 
 tures, fo were they never defign'd to be 
 a Model of indefeclive Writing. Tho they 
 abound with noble and fublime Ideas, yet 
 they were propos'd to the World as a 
 Rule of Faith and Manners, and not of 
 elegant and polite Diction. When the mo- 
 dern Aftronomers affirm, that the Earth 
 moves and the Sun (lands ftill, fhould they 
 be admonifh'd that this is to affront the 
 Authority of the Bible, where it is faid, 
 that the Sun runs his Race like a Giant, 
 and that it was ftop'd in its Courfe to fa- 
 vour the Israelites, while they flaughter'd 
 their Enemies? For many things are ex- 
 prefs'd there, as accommodated to the ge- 
 neral Conceptions of the People ; the Scrip- 
 tures being defign'd by the Divine Infpirer 
 to inftruft Men in Religion, not in Poetry 
 and Philofophy. It is therefore an Indig- 
 nity to the Sacred Volumes, to produce 
 their Authority in Juftifkation of any De- 
 feds
 
 EPICK POETRY. 171 
 
 fefts in Writing objected to the Ancients ; 
 for this is to mifapply rfie Divine Reve- 
 lation, by interefting it in the little Dif- 
 putes of VVits and Criticks, in which it 
 was never intended to decide. 
 
 IT is likewife very reafonable, that the 
 Idolizers of Homer fhould make a farther 
 ftep towards an Accommodation, by ac- 
 knowledging Deformity and Inequality in 
 the Manners of his Heroes ; who often in 
 their Aft ions, Speeches, and Paffions, fay 
 and do many things contrary or improper 
 to their refpecYive Characters, of which 
 their Adverfaries produce many evident 
 Inftances. 
 
 IF they likewife condefcend to flop the 
 Mouths of the Heroes Horfes, and not al- 
 low to Rivers the Privilege of making 
 Speeches in an Epick Poem, which is di- 
 ftinguifti'd from other Fables by its ftrict 
 obfervance of Probability, it may not be 
 look'd on as an unreafonable compliance : 
 For tho Virgil has made the Horfes of Pal* 
 Us to fhed large Tears at his Funeral, the 
 Latin Poet's Authority will no more bear 
 down Reafon, than Homer's can do ; and 
 tho Virgil^ while he follow'd the Greek 
 Mailer, corrected many of his Defects, yet 
 here it is plain, that to imitate his Model 
 
 he
 
 172 An ESSAY upon* 
 
 he mifreprefented Nature, and tranfgrefs'd 
 the Bounds of Verifimilitude ; and it is in 
 vain to produce the Error of one great 
 Poet, to juftify the fame in another. The 
 Cafe is quite, different, when by eloquent 
 Figures a Poet or Orator attributes Speech 
 to Animals or infenfible Creatures. For In- 
 tfance, that in the facred Writings, Hear, 
 Heavens, and give Ear, O Earth, jor I 
 have nourished and brought up Children, and 
 tlxy have rebelled again ft mt\ And that of 
 one of the Perfons in the Book of Job, en- 
 quiring after the Place where Wifdom 
 makes her Abode : The Earth and the Sea 
 fay, {be is not here ; Death and the Grave fay, 
 &c. For the Reader immediately appre- 
 hending the Figurative manner of Speak- 
 ing, is in no danger of being deceiv'd ; 
 but in the other Cafe, the brute Animal is 
 engag'd as an A&or, and not brought in 
 by a Figurative Expreflion. Homer, by 
 this Management, inverts the Order, and 
 confounds the Subordination of Beings. By 
 endowing with Humane Speech and Paf- 
 fions, Beafts and inanimate Creatures, and 
 introducing them as Parties afting in the 
 Poem, he raifes them to the Dignity of 
 the Humane Species ; as by giving to his 
 Gods the Infirmities and Indecencies be- 
 longing to Humane Nature, he degrades 
 and finks them from their high Station to 
 
 that
 
 EPI CK POETRY. 173 
 
 that of degenerate Man ; and while he be- 
 ftovvs on his Heroes incredible Power, 
 gives them Courage and Strength diffident 
 to ingage in Combate with the Gods, and 
 to inflift terrible Wounds on immortal Be- 
 ings, he advances them to the Rank and 
 Character of Deities : Thus he makes 
 Men of his Beafts, and Gods of his Men, 
 and Men of his Gods. The Poet, I ima- 
 gine, Was tempted to bring in this Confu- 
 lion and Diforder by an affectation of rai- 
 fing Wonder and Surprife in every thing 
 he reprefented, by which means he often 
 blemilh'd his Poem with the falfe Marvel- 
 lous ; for where there is not a juft obfer- 
 vance of Decency and Probability, a judi- 
 cious Reader will always be (hock'd, not 
 delighted : And notwithstanding Arifiotlc^ 
 fway'd by the Authority of Homers Ex- 
 ample, aflerts, That in an Epick Poem, 
 for the fake of raifing Admiration, one 
 may fometimes drain it to an unreafonable 
 pitch, I cannot fubmit to his Opinion ; for 
 nothing that is unreafonable can pleafe 
 Reafon, and nothing that is unnatural and 
 therefore incredible can be acceptable to 
 a difcerning Tafte. 
 
 N the other hand, Prejudice apart, let 
 the Moderns yield to the Iliad the great 
 Honour of being the original Work of the 
 
 moft
 
 1 74 dn E s s A Y ufon 
 moft excellent Kind of Poetry, as far as 
 appears by any Models now extant ; and 
 that if it be not abfolutely perfeft, it is 
 neverthelefs a wonderful thing, that the 
 firft Attempt of fo difficult a nature fhould 
 fUcceed fa well, and come fo near to a 
 finifh'd Piece. Befides, a candid Judge will 
 attribute the Failings in fo long a Work, 
 ftruck out and labour'd in the Poet's Ima- 
 gination without the help of a Model, to 
 the Infirmity of Humane Nature, which 
 is never capable of a fauklefs Produ&ion. 
 
 NOR will they, I imagine, deny that 
 the Iliad Chews a vaft Imagination, full of 
 noble and admirable Ideas, a fertile and 
 exhauftlefs Invention, and great Vivacity 
 and Splendor of Expreflion : That they 
 obferve a copious Variety of Characters 
 well diftinguifh'd, while his Warriors, tho 
 all Valiant, are judicioufly diverfify'd by 
 mingling their Courage with various Qua- 
 lities of another Kind, which is the beft 
 demonftration of a rich Genius. 
 
 LET it be granted, that the Iliad has 
 many Defefts, and if they pleafe, that it 
 is far from being a finifh'd Work ; yet it 
 is fo perfect, that none of the Moderns 
 dare let up any of their Performances in 
 Competition with it. The French muft 
 * not
 
 EPI c K POETRY. 175 
 
 not produce their Clevis, nor the Italians 
 their Taffo and dnajio, as Rivals to this 
 Poet, notwithstanding his Blemifhes and 
 Defe&s: And if Virgil himielf be corn- 
 pa rM with him, fince it mull beacknow- 
 ledg'd that this great Poet is not an original 
 Contriver, and no more than an exact 
 Imitator, I had almolt faid a. Tranflator 
 of Homer, the firft Rank of Honour muft 
 be due to the Greek Poet. It is true, that 
 Virgil has avoided fome of the Errors 
 which he obferv'd in Homers Model ; but 
 that he has retain'd others, and commit- 
 ted many of his own, and a greater num- 
 ber, perhaps, than his Admirers imagine, 
 will, I believe, appear, fhould any Man 
 with the fame Penetration and Severity 
 examine that Poem, with which two new 
 French Authors have fearch'd and fifted the 
 Ihael, to difcover its Faults. 
 
 JUSTICE likewife demands that the 
 Patrons of the Moderns fhould concede to 
 their Competitors, that the principal Aftors 
 in an Bpick Poem may be unjuft and im- 
 pious, violent and perfidious Perfons ; and 
 therefore Homer is by no means to be con- 
 demn'd for introducing Warriors of (uch 
 Qualities and Manners. The Idea of a 
 moral and poetical Hero are very different : 
 the firft muft always be reprefented as a 
 
 Perfon
 
 176 An ESSAY upon 
 
 Perfon of eminent Vertues and fuperior 
 Merit, but the la ft may often be as much 
 diftinguifh'd by his enormous Vices ; for 
 an Heroick Work being a devis'd Aftion 
 or Fable, irreligious and wicked Perfons 
 may be engag'd in it, as oft as they in- 
 fluence the principal Defign, and are ne- 
 ceflary to bring about the Moral, which 
 refults from the whole. It is true, when 
 the Characters are fettled, the Poet muft 
 obferve Uniformity and Congruity ; and 
 whenever thofe Perfons are introduc'd in 
 the Poem, he is oblig'd to make them act 
 and fpeak in conformity to the Idea under 
 which he reprefented them at firft ; and 
 therefore they muft every where appear 
 like themfelves; for whenever there hap- 
 pens, through Negligence or Defeft of 
 Judgment, a Difagreement or Contrariety 
 in their Expreffions or Manners to the firft 
 eftablifhM Character, the ConduQ of the 
 Writer will be juftly condemn'd : And in 
 this Cafe the Cenfurers of Homer have fame- 
 times too great Reafon to complain. But as 
 to the Objection above mention'd, it anfes 
 from a falfeNotion of a Poet's Hero ; the ge- 
 nerality of Perfons think, that the Concep- 
 tion of a Hero denotes, befides the Idea of 
 Courage, fome extraordinary Vertues ; and 
 'tis hard to free the Mind from this Com- 
 plication when that Term is offer'd to it ; 
 * and
 
 EPIGK POETRY. 177 
 
 and therefore I wifh that in fpeaking of 
 Epick Subjects-, Men would lay afide the 
 Word Hero, becaufe of its ambiguous Sig- 
 nification, and ufe in its place, either Chief 
 Perfon, Aftor, or Warrior, which would 
 not tempt the Reader to expecl a Man of 
 uncommon Merit. Achilles and Mezentius, 
 tho Cruel and Impious, may be as ufeful 
 to promote the Morals of the main A&ion, 
 as Neflor and ALneas with all their Piety and 
 Wifdom. To require that all the Men in 
 the Poem fhould be Perfons of Vertue, is 
 as unreafonable, as that all the Women 
 fhould be ill Characters, according to Arifto- 
 tte^s Maxim ; which AfTertion, fmce no 
 Reafon can be affign'd to fupport it, I re- 
 ject as Arbitrary and Abfurd. 
 
 THESE Gentlemen, that have attack'd 
 the Iliad with fo much Vigor, are to be 
 greatly valu'd for their free and generous 
 Spirit, in afTerting the Right of Mankind 
 to judge for themfelves ; and that they have 
 detected many Errors and Defects in the 
 Iliad) I acknowledge, feems to me very evi- 
 dent : But as it falls out, that many active 
 and fubtile Politicans, who with Vigilance 
 and Art have puird down a fettled Frame 
 of Government, want Skill and Ability 
 to erect a butter in its place ; fo it hap- 
 pens to thefe Criticks ; they ilrive to fink 
 N the
 
 1 78 An ESSAY upon 
 
 the Reputation of Homer and demolifti the 
 Iliad, before they have contriv'd a wifer 
 Scheme. 
 
 As to the firft of thefe ingenious Ag- 
 greffors, he has laid down fuch a loofe and 
 crude Definition of an Epick Poem, that 
 it will take, in the whole Story of any He- 
 ro's Life; nor does he fee, fo he fays, why 
 a Hiftory of fuch a long Train of .Events, 
 fliould not be comprehended in the etfen- 
 tial Idea of fuch a Work. 
 
 I IMAGINE that this eminent Poet, 
 having a mind to complement the "late 
 King of France, by writing the great At- 
 chievementa of his Reign, and drawing the 
 Character of an excellent Prince at a ful- 
 ler Length than what has been yet at- 
 tempted, as he himfelf fuggelts in his Dif- 
 courfe upon Homer, was willing that fuch 
 a Hiftory in Verfe fhould be called an 
 Epick Poem; and therefore ftretches the 
 Definition of it fo wide, that it might in- 
 clude an Hiftorical Recital of the Life of 
 any Illuftripus Perfon. But when he fhall 
 confider with greater Attention, the Con- 
 ftitution and EiTential Properties of an 
 Epick Writing, and reflect that it is but 
 one Fable, I believe he will, without dif- 
 ficulty, allow, that the Unity of the Poem 
 
 depends
 
 EPICK PoETfcY. 179 
 
 depends upon the Unity of the Aftion ; 
 and therefore that a Poem that recites a 
 Jong Train of independent Events, is not 
 one Poem, but in the fame Senfe that a 
 Heap of Grain is one Heap, or a Cro^d 
 of People is one Crowd : And there is yet 
 greater reafon to believe, that he will quit 
 this as a defencelefs Place, when he ob* 
 ferves, that the judicious Author that has 
 fince embark'd in the fame Caufe, has de* 
 clar'd againft that Part of his Definition* 
 
 YET that very Author, who has at* 
 tack'd Homer with greater Violence, has 
 given to the World as faulty a Definition 
 of this kind of Poetry ; but, as I fuppofe, 
 upon a different View* The Poets of the 
 French Nation, tho ingenious and polite 
 Writers, not having yet attempted an F.- 
 pick Work with Succefs, this Gentleman, 
 that the Nation may not want an Heroick 
 Poem, refolv'd to fet up 6ne written m 
 Prole, and to make Quantity and Metre 
 unneceflary in the Sentences of fudi a Nar- 
 ration, by which the Ideas of Orath Solut& 
 and Metric A are confounded. 
 
 As the firft feenfls to have accommo- 
 dated his Definition, fo as to take in a 
 Hiftory in Verfe, for the Reafon, perhaps, 
 above-memionM ; fo on the contrary, the 
 N 2 other
 
 i8o An ESSAY ufon . > 
 
 other lias given fuch a drefs'd and forc'd 
 Definition, that a Fable in Profe may claim 
 the Title of an Epick Poem ; nor do the 
 Precepts of Poetry, laid down by Arijlotle, 
 bear a greater Conformity to the Example 
 of Homer, than the Rules of Poetry which 
 thefe Criticks advance, are accommodated 
 to the two feveral Defigns, which I ima- 
 gine, they had in view. 
 
 THE Adventures of Telemacbi/s is the 
 Writing which this Critick affirms is a 
 more perfect Epick Poem, than thofe of 
 Homer, or any other which he ever read. 
 I allow that Book is the Production of a 
 great Genius, that it contains many ex- 
 traordinary Beauties, and an excellent Mo- 
 ral ; but it can by no means claim the 
 Appellation of an Heroick Work. A very 
 great, if not the greater! part of it, tho 
 the Diction is pure and elegant, is how- 
 ever entirely Profaick, and not elevated 
 above the familiar Didaftick Stile; and 
 therefore docs not rife to the true Sublime 
 required in an Epick Writing: And tho 
 fome Parts contain a great deal of Poetick 
 and fplendid Expreflion, yet the Senten- 
 ces not being meafur'd nor limited by 
 Quantity and Metre, it is no more a Poem 
 than a Novel or Romance are fuch, in 
 whiqh the Unity of the Aftion is tolera- 
 bly
 
 EPICK POETRY. 181 
 
 bly preferv'd. It had therefore been rea- 
 fonable, that the Critick (hould have made 
 it appear, that this Book was a Poem, be- 
 fore he had afBrm'd that it was one of the 
 EpiC*k Kind. It is true, a Comedy is 
 term'd a Poem, notwithftanding it is writ 
 in Profe ; the Reafon is, becaufe the A&- 
 ors have vulgar Characters, and the Sub- 
 ject or Action is low and familiar, and 
 therefore not proper to be reprefented in 
 a figurative and lofty Stile : But if the 
 Upper Lyrick and Epick Poetry, as well 
 as Tragedy, where elevated Diction is de- 
 manded, is not rais'd above the Comick 
 Dialogue and familiar Profe Expreffion, the 
 eflential Idea of the Sublime Stile is loft 
 and confounded with that of the Low. 
 
 ANOTHER great Objection to the Work 
 above-mention'd is, that the Writer has 
 not acted in Conformity to his Character ; 
 for fince in an Epick Poem, the Author 
 often fpeaks in his own Perfon, there is as 
 great reafon why he fhould prefer ve Uni- 
 formity and Congruity of Manners in re- 
 fpect of himfelf, as in regard to his Act- 
 ors. If the Aftors in Teltmtchtts, who are 
 Grecian Pagans, fhould be introduc'd with 
 the Manners of Jews, Egyptians, or other 
 Nations remote from Greece, this Conduct 
 would prefently appear abiurd and ridi- 
 N 3 culous ;
 
 i8a An ESSAY ufan 
 
 culous; nor would it have been lefs in- 
 congruous, had Homer when he fpeaks in 
 his own Perfon, always fpoke as a Jew, an 
 Egyptian, or Chaldean, and not as a Pagan 
 Greek. Let it then be confider'd, that this 
 celebrated Author evidently deftroys the 
 Congruity of Manners, while he never 
 fpeaks in his own Perfon as a modern 
 Chriftian, but as an ancient Heathen : He 
 employs all their paultry Machines, enga- 
 ges Jupiter, Venus, and Cupid himfelf in 
 the Action, and in the Character of Men* 
 tor, his Conduct feems as much abfurd 
 and inconfiftent with the Properties of a 
 Divine Nature, as that of Homer in the 
 Management of his contemptible Deities. 
 Certainly that Author fhould not be imi- 
 tated, who has introduced Celeftial Beings 
 into his Aftion in fuch a way, as would 
 tempt one to believe, that he was impious 
 in Principle, and that to avoid the igno^ 
 xninious Charafter of an Atheifr, and the 
 Punifhment of the Magiftrate, as fome of 
 the Philofophers have done, aflerted in- 
 deed the Exiftence of the Gods, but de- 
 fcrib'd them in fuch manner, and engag'd 
 them in fuch unworthy and oft immoral 
 A&ions, that they might appear ridiculous, 
 and Religion be e^pos'd to Contempt.
 
 EpI CK Po ETRY. 185 
 
 HAD Homer or Virgil employ'd in their 
 Poems Deities not received and acknow- 
 ledg'd in Greece and Rome, and fuch as were 
 look'd on as imaginary Beings that had no 
 real Exiitence, it muft have been condemn'd 1 
 as an unpardonable Error; yet this is 
 the Cafe of Te/ewachus. The great Arch- 
 bifliOp of CAmbray does not appear in that- 
 Writing a better Divine than the Pagan 
 Poet; and tho the Moral contain'd in it is 
 fine, and very ufeful, is that fufficient with- 
 out the Concurrence of other effential Pro- 
 perties to conftitute an Epick Poem ? 
 
 A T R A G i c K Poet, tho a Chriftian, 
 may write a Poem where the Ators are 
 all Pagans with great Propriety, and with- 
 out offering Violence to his own Chara- 
 cter; becaufe the Actors in Tragedy are 
 introduc'd (peaking and doing all Things 
 themfelves, while the Poet is intirely filent 
 and una&ive : But in Epick Poems the 
 Author has a great Part, and fpeaks often 
 himfelf ; and therefore, as I have faid, he 
 ought every where to maintain his proper 
 Manners, and is oblig'd by the Rule that 
 enjoins fuch Uniformity, always to fpeak as 
 a Chriftian, as much as his Actors, if they 
 are Pagans, are bound to act and fpeak as 
 fuch Idolaters. 
 
 N 4 To
 
 Es s AY upon 
 
 To fet this Matter yet in a clearer 
 Light. If this Writing is an Heroick Poem, 
 the Author, no doubt, might have invoak'd, 
 as is ufual, the Afliftance of fome Deity. 
 Now I ask, what Divinity could he have 
 addrefs'd himfelf to ? Not to the Chri- 
 ftian, for that would have been inconfiftent 
 with his Pagan Plan : And on the other 
 hand, fhould he have call'd on any Idol 
 or Abomination of the Heathens, how 
 /Locking muft fuch a Prayer have been from 
 the Mouth of a Chriftian Prelate ? Whence 
 it is evident, that no Invocation could have 
 been made by the Author. And tho it 
 fhould be faid, that the Invocation is not 
 neceflary to an Epick Poem, yet none will 
 affirm that it is imprafticable, which plain- 
 ly it is in the Profe Poem, of which we 
 are difcourfing. 
 
 HENCE it appears that 'tis impoffible 
 for a Chriftian Poet to write upon the 
 Syftem of the Pagan Theology, without 
 commiting the moft offenfive Abfurdities. 
 Should I undertake a fuller and more ftricl: 
 Inquiry into the Defeds of that Writing, 
 I mean, as it is produced for an Epick Poem, 
 it would fwell this Difcourfe to a greater 
 Extent than is proper in this place : and 
 were it as perfect a Performance of that Kind 
 
 as
 
 EP I C K Po ET RY. 185 
 
 as Come affirm, yet ftill it is an Imitation 
 or Copy of Homers Model in his Ulyffes. 
 Upon the whole Matter, notwithftanding 
 many Things charg'd upon Homer's I/iad 
 by the French Criticks muft be allow'd to 
 be great Defects and Blemifhes, the Au- 
 thor muft be acknowledg'd as a Perfon of 
 an extraordinary Genius and a vaft Capa- 
 city ; and that he has laid two Plans of 
 Heroick Writing fo happily, that no Poet 
 has yet excelPd them ; and which with all 
 their Faults are fo juft, that perhaps no 
 future Author, that fhall attempt a Work 
 of that kind, is likely to fucceed, if he 
 deviates far from thpfe Models, and much 
 lefs if he leaves them quite out of Sighj.
 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON 
 
 W I T.
 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON 
 
 W I T. 
 
 HE Inclinations of Men, in 
 this their degenerate State, 
 carry them with great Force 
 to thofe voluptuous Objects, 
 that pleafe their Appetites 
 and gratify their Senfes; and which not 
 only by their early Acquaintance and Fa- 
 miliarity, but as they are adapted to the 
 prevailing Inftinfts of Nature, are more 
 efteem'd and purfuM than all other Satif- 
 faftions. As thofe inferior Enjoyments, 
 that only affect the Organs of the Body 
 are chiefly coveted, fo next to thefe, 
 * that
 
 1 9o An E s s A Y 
 
 that light and facetious Qualification of 
 the Mind, that diverts the Hearers and is 
 proper to produce Mirth and Alacrity, 
 has, in all Ages, by the greateft Part of 
 Mankind, been admir'd and applauded. 
 No Productions of Human Underftand- 
 ing are receiv'd with fuch a general Plea- 
 fure and Approbation, as thofe that abound 
 with Wit and Humour, on which the 
 People fet a greater Value, than on tlie 
 wifeft and moft inftructive Difcourfes* 
 Hence a pleafant Man is always careis'd 
 above a wife one, and Ridicule and Satyr, 
 that entertain the Laughers, often put fo- 
 lid Reafon and ufeful Science out of Coun- 
 tenance. The wanton Temper of the Na- 
 tion has been gratify 'd fo long with the 
 high Seafonings of Wit and Raillery in 
 Writing and Converfation, that now al- 
 inoft all Things that are not accommoda- 
 ted to their Relifh by a ftrOng Infufion 
 of thofe Ingredients, are rejected as the 
 heavy and infipid Performances of Men 
 of a plain Undemanding and meer Ma- 
 fters of Senfe. 
 
 SINCE the Power of Wit- is fo preva- 
 lent, and has obtain'd fueh Efteem and 
 Popularity, that a Man endow'd with 
 this agreeable Quality, is by many look'd 
 on as a Heavenly Being, if compar'd with 
 
 others,
 
 ufm WIT. 191 
 
 others, who have nothing but Learning 
 and a clear arguing Head ; it will be worth 
 the while to fearch into its Nature, and 
 examine its Ufefulnefs, and take a View 
 of thofe fatal Effefts which it -produces, 
 when it happens to be mifapply'd. 
 
 TH o perhaps the Talent which we call 
 Wit, like that of Humour, is as clearly un- 
 derftood by its fimple Term, as by the 
 moft labour'd Defcription ; an Argument 
 or which is this, That many ingenious 
 Perfons, by their unfuccefsful Eflays to ex- 
 plain it, have rather obfcur'd than illuftra- 
 ted its Idea ; I will notwithftanding ad- 
 venture to give the Definition of it, which 
 tho it may fall fhort of Perfection, yet I 
 imagine, will come nearer to it, than any 
 that has yet appearM. Wit is a gu&lif- 
 cation of the Mind, that raifes And enlivens 
 cold Sentiments And plain Proportions, by 
 giving them An elegant And furprtzing Turn. 
 
 IT is evident, that Wit cannot eflen- 
 tially confift in the Juftnefs and Propriety 
 of the Thoughts, that is, the Conformity 
 of our Conceptions to the Obje&s we con- 
 ceive ; for this is the Definition of Truth, 
 when taken in a Phyfical Senfe ; nor in 
 the Purity of Words and Expreflion, for 
 this may be eminent in the Cold, Didaft- 
 
 ick
 
 192 An Ess A Y 
 
 ick Stile, and in the correcl Writers F 
 Hiftory and Philofophy : But Wit is that 
 which imparts Spirit to our Conceptions 
 and Diclion, by giving them a lively 
 and novel, and therefore an agreeable 
 Form : And thus its Nature is limited and 
 diverfify'd from all other intellectual En- 
 dowments. Wit therefore is the Accom- 
 plifhrnent of a warm, fprightly, and fer- 
 tile Imagination, enrich'd with great Va- 
 riety of proper Ideas; which a&ive Prin- 
 ciple is however under the Direction of 
 a regular Judgment, that takes care of the 
 Choice of juft and fuitable Materials, pre- 
 fcribes to the lighter Faculties the due 
 Bounds of their Sport and Activity, and 
 afliib and guides them, while they im- 
 print on the Conceptions of the Mind their 
 peculiar and delightful Figures. The Ad- 
 dition of Wit to proper Subjeds, is like 
 the artful Improvement of the Cook, who 
 by his exquifite Sauce gives to a plain 
 Difh, a pleafant and unufual Relifh. A 
 Man of this Character works on fimple 
 Propofitions a rich Embroidery of Flow- 
 ers and Figures, and imitates the curious 
 Artift, who ftuds and inlays his prepar'd 
 Steel with Devices of Gold and Silver. 
 But Wit is not only the Improvement of 
 a plain Piece by intellectual Enameling; 
 befides this, it animates and warms a cold 
 
 Senti-
 
 upon WIT. 195 
 
 Sentiment, and makes it glow with Lifs 
 and Vigor ; and this it effects, as is ex- 
 prefs'd in the laft Part of the Definition, 
 by giving it an elegant and furprizing 
 Turn. It always conveys the Thought of 
 the Speaker or Writer cloath'd in a^ plea- 
 fing, but foreign Drefs, in which it never 
 appear'd to the Hearer before, who how- 
 ever had been long acquainted with it; 
 and this Appearance in the Habit of a 
 Stranger muft be admirable, fince Surprize 
 naturally arifes from Novelty, as Delight 
 and Wonder refult from Surprize ; which 
 I have more fully explain'd in the former 
 Ertay. 
 
 A s to its efficient Caufe ; Wit owes its 
 Production to an extraordinary and pecu- 
 liar Temperament in the Conftitution of 
 the PofTeflTors of it, in which is found a 
 Concurrence of regular and exalted Fer- 
 ments, and an Affluence of Animal Spirits 
 refin'd and reftifyM to a great degree of 
 Purity ; whence being endow'd with Vi- 
 vacity, Brightnefs and Celerity, as well in 
 their Reflexions as direct Motions, they 
 become proper Instruments for the fpright- 
 ly Operations of the Mind : by which 
 means the Imagination can with great Fa- 
 cility range the wide Field of Nature, con- 
 template an infinite Variety of Objecls, and 
 O bv
 
 194 Jfa ESSAY 
 
 by obferving the Similitude and Plfagree- 
 ment of their feveral Qualities^ tingle out 
 and abftraft, and then fuit and unite thofe 
 Ideas, which will beft ferve its purpofe. 
 Hence beautiful Allufions, furprizing Me- 
 taphors and admirable Sentiments are al- 
 ways ready at hand : And while the Fancy 
 is full of Images collected from innumer- 
 able Objects and their different Qualities, 
 Relations and Habitudes, it can at plea- 
 fure drefs a common Notion in a ftrange, 
 but becoming Garb ; by which, as before 
 obferv'd, the fame Thought will appear 
 a new one, to the great Delight and Won- 
 der of the Hearer. What we call Genius 
 refults from this particular happy Com- 
 plexion in the firft Formation of the Per- 
 fon that enjoys it, and is Nature's Gift, 
 but diverfify'd by various fpecifick Chara- 
 cters and Limitations, as its active Fire is 
 blended and allay'd by different Propor- 
 tions of Phlegm, or reduc'd and regulated 
 by the Contraft of oppofite Ferments. 
 Therefore as there happens in the Com- 
 pofition of a facetious Genius a greater or 
 lefs, tho ft ill a.n inferior degree of Judg- 
 ment and Prudence, and different Kinds of 
 Inftincts and Paffions, one Man of Wit 
 will be vary'd and diitinguifli'd from ano- 
 ther. That Diftinclion that feems com- 
 mon to Per fons" of this Denomination, is 
 
 an
 
 ufm Wl T. 195 
 
 an inferior Degree of Wifdom and Difcre- 
 tion ; and tho thefe two Qualities, Wit 
 and Difcretion, are alrnoft incapable of a 
 friendly Agreement, and will not, but 
 with great Difficulty, be work'd together 
 and incorporated in the Constitution of 
 any Individual ; yet this Obfervation is not 
 fo confpicuous in any, as in thofe, whofe 
 native Complexion comes the neareft to a 
 Subverfion and Abfence of Mind, tho it 
 fhould never degenerate into that diftem- 
 per'd Elevation of the Spirits : Nothing is 
 more common, than to fee Perfons of this 
 Clafs always Think Right, and always Aft 
 Wrong ; admirable for the richnefs, deli- 
 cacy, and brightnefs of their Imaginations, 
 and at the lame Time to be pity'd for 
 their want of Prudence and common Senfe ; 
 abounding with excellent Maxims and 
 inilructive Sentiments, which however are 
 not of the leaft Ufe to themfelves in the 
 Conduct of their Lives. And hence it is 
 certain, that tho the Gentlemen of a plea- 
 fant and witty Turn of Mind often make 
 the induftrious Merchant, and grave Per- 
 fons of all ProfelTions, the Subjects of their 
 Raillery, and expofe them as itupid Crea- 
 tures, not fupportable in good Company ; 
 yet thefe in their Turn believe they have 
 as great a right, as indeed they have, to 
 reproach the oihers for want at Industry, 
 O 2 good
 
 i 96 An ESSAY 
 
 good Senfe, and regular Oeconomy, mtach 
 more valuable Talents than thofe, which 
 any mere Wit can boaft of ; and therefore 
 wifef Parents, who from a tender Concern 
 for the Honour and Happinefs of their 
 Children, earneftly defire they may excel 
 in intellectual Endowments, fhould, in- 
 ftead of refin'd Parts and a Genius turn'd 
 for pleafant Converfation, wifh them a 
 iblid Underftanding and a Faculty of clofe 
 and clear Reafoning, thefe Qualifications 
 being l.kely to make them good Men, and 
 the other only good Companions. 
 
 AND this leads to another Obfervati- 
 on, namely, That Peribns of facetious Ta- 
 lents and agreeable Humour, in whofe 
 Temperament, Judgment, and Difcretion, 
 as before obfervM, are ufually found in a 
 difproportionate Meafure, are more inclined 
 than others to Levity and diflblute Man- 
 ners : The fame Iwiftnefs of Thought, 
 and fprightJineGof Imagination, that qua- 
 lifies them for ingenious Converfation, 
 Sports of Fancy and Comick Writing, do 
 li-kewife give them an exquifite- Tafte of 
 ienfual Pleasures, and expoie them to the 
 prevailing Power of Tempting, tho for- 
 bidden Enjoyments. The Paflions and 
 Appetite* of. thefe Men,, from the fame 
 Spring from: whence they derive their ex- 
 * ' iraordi-
 
 ufon WIT. 197 
 
 traordinary Parts, that is> a Redundancy 
 of warm and lively Spirits, are more vio- 
 lent and impatient of Reftraint, than thofe 
 in a cooler and lefs active Complexion, 
 ivho however may be more eminent in 
 the fuperior Faculties of the Mind: Hence 
 it will be no wonder, that while their 
 Propenfions to Pleafuie are much ftronger, 
 and their Rcafon much weaker than thofe 
 of other Men, they fhould be lefs able 
 than others, to refill the Allurements of 
 criminal Delights ; and this Remark is con- 
 firm'd by daily Experience. How few of 
 this facetious and comick Species of Men, 
 carefs'd and applauded for their (Lining 
 Parts and witty Difcourfes, efcape the Snares 
 that encompafs them, and preferve their 
 Vertue and Sobriety of Manners? It too 
 often happens, that a Man elevated above 
 the reft by his uncommon Genius, is as 
 much diftmguifh'd by his extraordinary 
 Immorality : And it would be well if it 
 ftop'd here ; but by degrees he often grows 
 much worfe, by adding Impiety and Pro- 
 fanenefs to Looienefsof Manners: .For be- 
 ing unable, that is, having a moral Im- 
 potence of Will to reftrain his evil Pro- 
 penfions and govern his vicious Appetites, 
 and finding his guilty Enjoyments, at- 
 tended with inward Uneafmefs and un- 
 avoidable Remorfe, and being confcious 
 O that
 
 i'S?8 An ESSAY 
 
 that his irregular Life is inconfiftent with 
 Safety and Happinefs in a Future State;. to 
 remove the troublelome Mifgivings of his 
 Mind from the Apprehenfions of Guile 
 'here, and rid himfelf of the Fears of Suf- 
 fering hereafter, he at length difclaims 
 the Belief of a Supream Being and a Fu- 
 ture Exigence, and with much ado brings 
 over his Judgment to the fide of his Paf- 
 fiohs : This ingenious Libertine, having too 
 little 'flrength of Reafon to fubdue his 
 Appetrtts, and too much Wit to think, 
 that if that be not done, he (hall efcape 
 at laft Divine Punifhment, abolifhes his 
 Creed for the -Quiet of his Mind, and re- 
 nounces his God to preferve his Vices. 
 
 TH'-E Objefts about which Wit is ex- 
 ercis'd, are the common and lefs impor- 
 tant Aftions of Life. It is the Province of 
 the Civil Magistrate to make Laws againR 
 enormous Crimes and great Immoralities, 
 and by punifhing Offenders, to deter Men 
 from the like Tranfgreffions ; but they take 
 too notice of lower Errors, either becaufe 
 they have not fuch noxious Influence on 
 the State, or becaufe it is impoflible to 
 forefee and enumerate their numberlefs 
 ClalTes, and prevent their Growth : Where 
 then the Legiflator ends, the Comick Ge- 
 mtis -begins, and prefides over the low 
 
 and
 
 'upon WIT. 199 
 
 and ordinary Affairs and Manners of Life. 
 It extends its Power and Jurifdi&ion over 
 the wide Field of inferior Faults and ri- 
 diculous Follies, over the Diftrifts of Jn- 
 difcretion, Indecency, and Impertinence, 
 and is Vifitor of the Regions void of Dif- 
 cipline, Politenefs, and Civility. 
 
 WIT is employ'd in its own Province, 
 when the Poffeffor of it exercifes his Ge- 
 nius on the ordinary Cuftoms and Man- 
 ners of Life, either in Converfation, or 
 Comick Writing. It has therefore no 
 place in the Works where fevere Know- 
 ledge and Judgment are chiefly exercis'd ; 
 thofe fuperior Productions of the Under- 
 Handing muft be exprefs'd in a clear and 
 flrong manner, without intervening Strains 
 of Wit or facetious Fancies, which, were 
 they admitted, would appear incongruous 
 and impertinent, and diminifh the Merit 
 of the Writing. Hence Wit has no place 
 in Hiftory, Philology, Philofophy, or in the 
 greater Lyrick or Epick Poems ; the two 
 laftof which containing either the Praifes 
 of Deities or Demi-Gods, or treating of 
 lofty and illuftrious Subjects; fuch as the 
 Foundation, Rife, and Revolution of King- 
 doms, Commotions of State, Battles, Tri- 
 umphs, folemn Emba flies, and various o- 
 ther important Actions of Princes and He- 
 O 4 roes,
 
 aoo An ESSAY 
 
 roes, are exalted above the Sphere of Wit 
 and Humour. The Strength and Dignity 
 of the fublime Stile is debasM and adul- 
 terated by the foreign and improper Mix- 
 ture of light Sentiments, and pretty Fan- 
 cies. Thefe Sallies and Sports of the Ima- 
 gination, will no more advance the Beauty 
 of fuch fuperior Productions, than the Ad- 
 dition of glittering Tinfel and glafs Beads 
 \villimprovethelmperial Purple, or adorn 
 the Crowns of great Monarchs. And 
 therefore we fee, with what judicious Care 
 Virgil has avoided this Error; how clear 
 are his celebrated Writings from the leaft 
 fprinlding of Wit an,d pleafant Conceits, 
 which corrupt the Purity, debafe the Ma- 
 jelly, and fully the Luftre of the greater 
 Species of Poetry ? And ?.s the Gravity 
 and Chafinefs of the fublime Stile, in the 
 Works lait mentioned, will not endure the 
 gay Ornaments of Fancy ; fo does that 
 light Drefs more misbecome the pious and 
 wife Difcourfes, that come either from 
 the Pulpit or the Prefs. W T it is fo far 
 from being a Grace or Improvement of 
 Divine Eloquence, that on the contrary, 
 it deftroys its Dignity, breaks its Force, 
 and renders it bafe and puerile. 
 
 THF End and Ufefulnefs of this inge- 
 nious Qualification, is to delight and m- 
 
 flrucl.
 
 upon W IT. 201 
 
 ftrul. It animates and fweetens Conver- 
 fation, by raifing innocent Mirth and good 
 Humour ; and by this EfFecl it relieves 
 Pomeftick Cares, revives Men of Bufinefs 
 and lludious Profeillons, and foftens the 
 Afperity of morofe Difpofitions. It fuf- 
 pends uneafy and anxious Thoughts, dif- 
 pels cloudy and fullen Melancholy, and 
 by unbending and exhilerating the Minds 
 of the AfTembly, gives them new Life and 
 Spirit to refume the Labour of their re- 
 fpeclive Employments. The Exercife of 
 Wit and a pleafant Genius, excels all o- 
 thcr Recreations. What is the Satisfacti- 
 on that arifes from Country Sports, or the 
 politer Diverfions of Balls and Operas, 
 compar'd with the delightful Conversation 
 of Men of Parts and facetious Talents ? 
 Other Amufements, how agreeable foever, 
 only pleafe the Body and gratify the Sen- 
 fcs, but this ftrikes the Imagination, touches 
 the Paflions, and recreates the Intellectual 
 Faculties. And as theTafte of the Soul 
 is more delicate and exquifite than that of 
 the Body, fo much fuperior are the Plea- 
 fures of one to thofe of the other : It is 
 no wonder then, that the AfTemblies of 
 Friends are dull and heavy, that Feafts 
 and Wine are flat Entertainments, unlefs 
 fome ingenious Perfons are prefent to im- 
 prove their Tafte, and enliven the Com- 
 pany by agreeable Difcourfes. A NO-
 
 201 Jin E s s A Y 
 
 ANOTHER part of the Province in 
 which Wit is properly exercis'd, are in- 
 genious Writings, intended to pleafe and 
 improve the People ; and this is more va- 
 rious and extenfive than Comick Poetry, 
 tho of the fame Kind ; for it takes in not 
 only the "Stibje&s of Prudence and De- 
 cency, regular Behaviour and vertuous Afti- 
 ons, but Hkewife the jultnefs of Human 
 Sentiments and Opinions in Points of Con- 
 troverfy ; of the laft, the Dialogue of 
 Dr. 'Each'ard' again ft Mr. Hobbes is a famous 
 Example, where, by great Strength and 
 Solidity of Reafon, mixt with agreeable 
 Wit and Raillery, he entertains and in- 
 forms the Header, and at once expofes 
 and confutes the conceited Philofopher. 
 An Inftance of .the firft is, the celebrated 
 Hiftory of Don Quixote, compiled by the 
 Spam/b Wit Michael de Cervantes ; a Book 
 fo well imagin'd, and writ with fo much 
 Spirit and fine Raillery, that it effectually 
 procur'd the End of the admirable Au- 
 thor ; for by turning into Mirth and Ri- 
 dicule the reigning Folly of Romantick 
 Chivalry, and freeing the 'Minds of the 
 People from that fafhionable Delufion, he 
 troke the Force of as ftrong an Enchant- 
 ment, and deftroy'd as great a "Monfter as 
 Was ever pretended to be vanquiQYd by 
 
 their
 
 upon Wi T. 203 
 
 their imaginary Heroes. And many more 
 Books on other moral Subjects have been 
 compos'd with much Wit and Vivacity in 
 our own and foreign Countries, to expofe 
 Vice and Folly, and promote Decency and 
 Sobriety of Manners. But the Producti- 
 ons of this Nature, which have of late ap- 
 pear'd in this Nation, whether we regard 
 the juft and generous Sentiments, the fer- 
 tile Invention, the Variety of Subjects, the 
 furprizing Turns of Wit and facetious 
 Imagination, the genteel Satire, the Purity 
 and Propriety of the Words, and the Beau- 
 ty and Dignity of the Diction, have fur- 
 pafs'd all the Productions of this kind, 
 that have been publifh'd in any Age or 
 Country. The Reader no doubt is be- 
 fore-hand with me, and concludes, that I 
 mean the Tatter and Spectator, which for 
 the greateft Part, have all the Perfe&ion 
 of Writing, and all the Advantages of 
 Wit and Humour, that are requir'd to en- 
 tertain and inftruct the People : And it 
 muft chiefly be owing to the great De- 
 pravity of Manners in thefe loofe and de- 
 generate Times, that fuch worthy Perfor- 
 mances have produc'd no better Effects. 
 
 BUT this excellent and amiable Qua- 
 lification of the Mind is too apt to be 
 abus'd and perverted to ill purpofes. In- 
 
 ftead
 
 a 04 An ESSAY 
 
 ftead of being ingag'd on the Side of Ver- 
 tue, and us'd to promote juft Notions and 
 Regularity of Life, it is frequently em- 
 ploy'd to expofe the moft Sacred Things, 
 to turn Gravity and referv'd Behaviour in- 
 to Ridicule, to keep in Countenance Vice 
 and Irreligion, and with a petulant and 
 unreftrain'd Liberty, to deride the Prin- 
 ciples and Practices of the wifeft and belt 
 of Men. The Converfation of ingenious 
 Libertines generally turns upon Reveal'd 
 Religion and the venerable Teachers of 
 it ; or on thofe of the Laity, who feem 
 moft fmcere in the Belief of Chriftianity, 
 and exprefs the greateft Conformity in 
 tjieir Actions to the Precepts of it. No- 
 thing gives fo high a Seafoning to their 
 Raillery, and more improves the Talte 
 of their Jefts, than (ome fharp and point- 
 ed Ingredients, that wound Religion and 
 the Profeflbrs of it ; whereof fome are 
 made the Entertainment of the Company 
 by thefe facetious Scoffers, and expos'd as 
 Perfons fetter'd w ; ith PrepofTe (lions, and 
 biafs'd by Notions of Vertue, deriv'd from 
 Education and the early Inftruftions of 
 canting Parents. Others are reprefented 
 as indebted for their Piety to the Preva- 
 lency of the Spleen, and an immoderate 
 mixture of Melancholy in their Complexi- 
 on, which, fay they, give to the Mind a 
 
 fuper-
 
 ufon Wi T. 105 
 
 fupei ftitious Turn, and fill the Head with 
 religious Chimeras, frightful Phantomes 
 of Guilt, and idle Fears of imaginary 
 Punifhments ; while others are ridicul'd 
 as Men of a cold and phlegmatick Com- 
 plexion, without Spirit and native Fire; 
 who derive, fay they, their Vertue, 
 not from Choice or Reftraint of Appe- 
 tite, but from their deadnefs and in- 
 difpofition to Plcafure ; ' not from the 
 Power of their Reafon, but the Weaknefs 
 of their PafTions. It would be endlefs to 
 enumerate the various Ways which the 
 atheiitical Wit and merry Libertine em- 
 ploy, to take off all Veneration of Reli- 
 gion, and expofe its Adherents to publick 
 Derifion. This is certainly the greateft 
 Abufe of Wit imaginable. In all the 
 Errors and monftrous Productions of Na- 
 ture, can any appear more deform'd than 
 a Man of Parts, who employs his admi- 
 rable Qualities in bringing Piety into Con- 
 tempt, putting Vertue to the Blufh, and 
 making Sobriety of Manners the common 
 Subject of his Mirth ; while with Zeal and 
 Induftry, he propagates the malignant 
 Contagion of Vice and Irreligion, poifons 
 his Friends and Admirers, and promotes 
 the Deitruclion of his native Country ? And 
 if thefe foolifih Wits and ingenious Mad- 
 men could reflecl, they would foon be 
 
 coa-
 
 206 An ESSAY 
 
 convinced, that while they are engag'd 
 againft Religion they hurt themfelves ; 
 and that Wit and Humour thus mifap- 
 ply'd, will prove but a wretched Com- 
 penfation for their want of Venue. 
 
 IN this Place I crave leave to tranfcribe 
 fome Paflages relating to this Subject, from 
 the Writings of a good Judge of Wit, and 
 as great a Matter of it as perhaps any 
 Nation ever bred, I mean Archbifhop Til- 
 lot [on ; " I know not how it comes to pafs, 
 44 fays he, that fome Men have the For- 
 " tune to be efteem'd Wits, only for jeft- 
 " ing out of the common Road, and for 
 " making bold to feoff at thofe things, 
 " which the greateft Part of Mankind re- 
 " verence . If Men did truly confult 
 " thelntereft, either of their Safety or Re- 
 " putation, they would never exercife 
 <( their Wit in fuch dangerous Matters. 
 " Wit is a very commendable Quality, 
 <; but then a wife Man fhould have the 
 " keeping of it. It is a lharp Weapon, 
 " as apt for Mifchief as for good Purpo- 
 *' fes, if it be not well manag'd : The 
 ct proper ufe of it is to feafon Converfa- 
 " tion, to reprefent what is Praife-worthy 
 " to the greatetr. Advantage, and to expofe 
 * c the Vices and Follies of Men, fuch things 
 46 as are in themfeives truly ridiculous : 
 * 4i Put
 
 upon W i T. 107 
 
 cc But if it be apply 'd to the Abufe of the 
 " graveft and moft ferious Matters, it 
 " then lofes its Commendation. If any 
 " Man thinks he abounds in this Quality, 
 " and hath Wit to fpare, there is fcope 
 " enough for it within the Bounds of Re- 
 <c ligion and Decency ; and when it trant 
 " greffeth thefe, it degenerates into Info- 
 " lenceand Impiety And afterwards: A 
 " (harp Wit may find fomething in the 
 " wifeft Man, whereby to expoie him to 
 :t the Contempt of injudicious People. The 
 " graveft Book that ever was written, 
 " may be made ridiculous, by applying 
 '-' the Sayings of it to a foolifh purpofe, 
 ;< for a Jeft may be obtruded upon any 
 " thing ; and therefore no Man ought to 
 u have the lefs Reverence for the Prin- 
 " ciples of Religion, or for the Holy Scrip- 
 " tures, becaufe idle and profane Wits can 
 break Jefts upon them. Nothing is fo 
 " eafy, as to take particular Phrales and 
 " Hxpreflions o&t of the belt Book in the 
 " World, and to abufe them, by forcing 
 " an odd and ridiculous Senfe upon them." 
 And in another place, having mention'd 
 the moft proper Objects of Wit, he thus 
 
 cxpreiTes himfelf, * This I fay on 
 
 " purpofe to recommend to Men a nobler 
 " Exercife for their Wits, and if it be 
 u poffible, to put them out of Conceit 
 
 4t with
 
 ao8 An ESSAY 
 
 cf with that fcoffing Humour, which is fo 
 
 " eafy and fo ill-natur'd, and is not only 
 
 " an Enemy to Religion, but to every 
 
 " thing elfe that is wife and worthy ; and 
 
 " I am very much miftaken, if the State 
 
 " as well as the Church, the Civil Go- 
 
 <c vernment as well as Religion, do not 
 
 " in a fhort fpace find the intolerable In- 
 
 " convenience of this Humour." 
 
 THO the Perfons addicted to this im- 
 pious Folly, expofe the facred Myfteries 
 of Chriftianity, and make its Votaries 
 the common Topick of their Raillery, 
 it cannot thence be concluded, that they 
 are certain that thofe whom they thus de- 
 ride, as whimfical, ftupid, and deluded 
 Men, have not the leaft Reafon to fup- 
 port their Religious Principles and Prac- 
 tice ; for if they were fure of this, they 
 would treat fuch unhappy Perfons as Men 
 rob'd of their Senfes, with Tendernefs and 
 Companion ; for none will allow fuch di- 
 fremper'd Minds to be proper Subjects of 
 Ridicule and Derifion: But thofe, who 
 attentively obferve the Manner and Air of 
 thefe jefting Libertines, when they laugh 
 at Vertue, will fee plainly their licentious 
 Mirth fprings from other Principles ; either 
 from this, That the Example of many Per- 
 fons, who in earned embrace and profefs 
 t the
 
 ufon W i Ti 209 
 
 the Articles of Religion, continually di- 
 fturbs their Opinion of themfelves, and 
 creates fevere Mifgivings and Diftruft in 
 their Minds, left their Notions about Re- 
 ligion fhouid not be true, when they ob- 
 ferve, that many Perfons of eminent Parts, 
 fuperior Reafon and Erudition, maintain 
 with Zeal quite contrary Sentiments : or 
 elfe it proceeds from their Hatred of Men 
 of Vertue, founded in the Diffimilitudeof 
 Difpofitions and Manners, and Difagree- 
 ment in Intereft, Employments and De- 
 figns; or from an Envy of their great Me- 
 rit, innocent Life, and worthy Actions, 
 which from the prevailing Power of their 
 own vicious Inclinations^ they are unable 
 to imitate ; for after all their Raillery and 
 Expreflions of Contempt, Vertue has that 
 native Luftre and amiable Appearance 1 , 
 that will compel Men fecretly to eltsern 
 it, even while they deride the Poffeilbrs 
 of it. Such is the Pride and Vanity of 
 degenerate Nature, that loofe Men will- 
 always endeavour to level the eminent 
 Characters of religious and fober Perfons, 
 and reduce them to the inferior Degree of 
 their own : And for that end, they will 
 labour to fink the Opinion and Elteem of 
 any Excellence or Merit, to which them- 
 felves can make no Pretence. While they 
 cannot equal the bright Example of Ver- 
 P tue
 
 no An E s s A Y 
 
 tue in others, they ftrive to fully or efface 
 it, and by turning it into Ridicule, make 
 it feem rather the Difhonour and Defor- 
 mity, than the Beauty and Perfe&ion of 
 the Mind : And if they can difgrace Re- 
 ligion and fubvert all moral Diftinftion, 
 Men will be valu'd only for their intel- 
 lectual Endowments, and then they ima- 
 gine they have gain'd their Point, fince 
 the Superiority of Wit, as they fuppofe, 
 is on their Siae. Thefe feem to me the 
 genuine and natural Caufes, why Men of 
 great Parts and extraordinary Wit, but of 
 loofe Principles and immoral Lives, who 
 above all others affeft Popularity and gafp 
 after Applaufe, take fo much Pleafure, with- 
 out the leaft regard to Modefty and De- 
 cency, in a Chriftian Country to mock 
 Religion and jerk with fpiteful Satire Men 
 of Vertue and inoffenfive Behaviour. 
 
 W i T is likewife mifapply'd, when ex- 
 ercis'd to ridicule any unavoidable Defects 
 and Deformities of Body or Mind ; for 
 fince nothing is a moral Blemifh, but as 
 it is the Eftecl of our own Choice, no- 
 thing can be difgraceful but what is vo- 
 luntary, and brought freely upon our 
 felves ; and fince nothing is the proper 
 Objeft of Raillery and Ridicule, but what 
 is fhameful, it muft be a Violence to Rea- 
 
 fon
 
 upon Wi T. 21 i 
 
 fen and Humanity, to reproach and ex- 
 pofe another for any thing that was not in 
 his Power to efcape. And therefore to make 
 a Man contemptible, and the Jeft of the 
 Company, by deriding him for his mifnapen 
 Body, ill figur'd Face, ftarmmering Speech, 
 or low Degree of Underftanding, is a great 
 Abufe of ingenious Faculties. 
 
 NOR is it a lefs criminal Ufe of this 
 Talent, when it is exercis'd in lafcivious 
 and obfcene Difcourfes. The Venom is 
 not lefs, but more infectious and deftruft- 
 ive, when convey'd by artful Infinuation 
 and a delicate Turn of Wit ; when im- 
 pure Sentiments are exprefs'd by Men of 
 a heavy and grofs Imagination, in direct 
 and open Terms, the Company are put out 
 of Countenance, and naufeate the Coarfe- 
 nefs of the Converfaticn : but a Man of 
 Wit gilds the Poifon, drefles his wanton 
 Thoughts in a beautiful Habit, and by 
 flantingand fide Approaches, pofleffesthe 
 Imagination of the Hearers, before his 
 Defign is welldifcover'd ; by which means 
 he more effectually gains Admiilion to the 
 Mind, and fills the Fancy with immodeft 
 Ideas. 
 
 NOTHING can be more ilUmanner'd, 
 
 or difagreeable to Psrfons of Vcrtue and 
 
 P 2 Sobriety
 
 213 An ESSAY 
 
 Sobriety of Manners, than wanton and ob- 
 fcene Expreflions ; on which Subject the 
 excellent Archbifhop Ttllotfon has the fol- 
 lowing Paragraph : u Nothing that tref- 
 " pafles upon the Modefty of the Compa- 
 " ny, and the Decency of Conversion, 
 " can become the Mouth of a wife and 
 rt vertuous Perfon. This kind of Con- 
 " verfation would fain pafsfor Wit among 
 " fome fort of Perfons, to whom it is ac- 
 4C ceptable ; but whatever favours of Rude- 
 " nefs and Immodefty, and Ill-Manners, is 
 " very far from deferving that Name ; and 
 4C they that are fober and vertuous cannot 
 " entertain any Difcourfe of this kind, 
 " with Approbation and Acceptance. A 
 " well bred Perfon will never offend in 
 " this way. And therefore it cannot but 
 " be efteem'd as an Affront to modeft 
 " Company, and a rude prefuming upon 
 " their Approbation, impudently taking it 
 <c for granted, that all others are as lewd 
 u and diflblute as themfelves." 
 
 MEN of finer Spirits do likewife abufe 
 their Parts, as well as mifapply their Time, 
 when to gain Applaufe and increafe their 
 Popularity, they run, without Diftindlion, 
 into Company, and by too great Conde- 
 fcendon and falie Humanity, mingle in in- 
 ferior and unworthy AfTemblies; where 
 
 delight-
 
 upon Wi T. 21:5 
 
 delighted with the filly Approbation of 
 ignorant Laughers, they fhine forth in a 
 great EfTufion of Wit and Humour; by 
 which they make themfelves cheap, if not 
 contemptible in the Opinion of wife and 
 difcerning Perfons. Men of fingular Wit, 
 like Women of great Beauty, fhould ne- 
 ver be unguarded ; for if not endowed 
 with a decent Refervednefs, a modeft Air, 
 and a difcreet Behaviour, they fink in their 
 Value, and by appearing in all Places, and 
 becoming common and familiar, lofe, in a 
 great meafure, their Honour, and the Opi- 
 nion of their Merit. It is a meretricious 
 Proftitution of Wit, when the PoITeflbrs of 
 it can deny no Addreflfes, and refufe no 
 Invitations and Appointments, but fuffer 
 themfelves to be fhown at every Enter- 
 tainment : Befides the gratifying of their 
 Vanity, by a conftant purfuit of Approba- 
 tion and Praife, which is the Spring whence 
 this Prodigality of Parts and wafte of fa- 
 cetious Humour chiefly arife ; it is evi- 
 dent, they ipend a great deal of Time, of 
 which a wife Man can give no Account, 
 while Wit, which ihould in its proper 
 place, renew and revive the Spirits for 
 ufeful Employment, becomes a contmu'd 
 Diverfion, and makes everlafting Idlenefs 
 the Bufmefs of Life. 
 
 IT
 
 ESS 
 
 AY 
 
 I T is pity that a Man of fine Spirit 
 and fertile, as well as delicate Imagi- 
 nation, fhould think himfelf engag'd in 
 high Converfation, when he is only em- 
 ploy'd in the loweft Affairs that concern 
 Mankind. His Poft is of the fame Kind, 
 and but the next in Order above that of 
 Players on Inftruments, admirable Voices, 
 excellent Actors on the Stage, and famous 
 Dancers ; whofe Province is only to amufe 
 and recreate; and is therefore far below 
 theirs, who are either bufied in govern- 
 ing the State, defending their Country, 
 improving the Minds, or relieving the Bo- 
 dies of other Men. 
 
 HENCE the Labours of the meaneft 
 Perfons, that conduce to the Welfare and 
 Benefit of the Publick, are more valuable, 
 becaufe more ufeful,than the Employments 
 of thofe, who apply themfelves only, or 
 principally, to divert and entertain the 
 Fancy; and therefore muft be as much 
 preferable to the Occupation or Profeflion 
 of a Wit, as the Improvement and Hap- 
 pinefs of Men is to be regarded above their 
 Mirth and Recreation. I allow, that the 
 Talents of thefe ingenious Men are very 
 much to be efteem'd in their proper place ; 
 that is, as they unbend the Mind, relieve 
 
 the
 
 ufm WIT. i'5 
 
 the Satiety of Contemplation and Labour, 
 and by the Delight which they give, re- 
 frefh the Spirits and fit them for the Re- 
 turns of Study and Employment : But then 
 it muft be granted, that, as I have faid, 
 this is the meaner!, as being the leaft be- 
 neficial Province in which our intellectual 
 Faculties can be engag'd ; and therefore 
 thefe facetious Men can only claim the 
 higheft Rank among thofe, who are In- 
 ventors or Minifters of Pleafure, and pro- 
 vide Amufements and Recreations for the 
 Bufy and the Wife. 
 
 I WOULD illuftrate what I have aflfert- 
 ed by the following Reflection. Dome- 
 flick Fowls, the Hen, the Turkey, and 
 Goofe are preferable, as more ufeful, to the 
 finging Bird, and the Parrot. The Ox, 
 that ploughs the Field and brings home 
 the Harvert, the Horfe, the Mule, and even 
 the ftupid Afs, that carry their Owners, 
 or their Goods and Merchandize, are more 
 to be regarded than the Hound, the Lap- 
 Dog, and various other Animals that feem 
 to have been created only for our Plea- 
 fure and Amufement : And the Reafon of 
 this is very evident, Mankind may be very 
 happy, and States and Kingdoms may re- 
 main in a flourifhiug Condition, tho there 
 were no fuch diverting Creatures in the 
 P 4 World:
 
 a 1 6 An ESSAY 
 
 World : And from the fame Confrderation, 
 Men, tbo of a lower Station, who are 
 not only beneficial, but ntceffary to the 
 Well-being of Human Societies, are of far 
 greater Importance, and therefore deferve 
 more Efteem than thofe, who only are 
 fubfervicnt to our Recreation; for the 
 World may (till fubfift, and continue in 
 very comfortable Circumftances without 
 One, but not without the other : And 'tis 
 eafy to name fome learned and powerful 
 Communities, the Envy and Terror of 
 their Neighbours, who tho they abound 
 in Men of good Senfe and diligent Appli- 
 cation to Bufmefs, yet have few Wits and 
 Jefters among them to make them merry. 
 
 THE Truth of what I have aflerted 
 will farther appear, if we refleft that ge- 
 nerally Meii of a plain Underftanding and 
 good Senfe, but of greatlnduftry and Ca- 
 pacity forBufinefs, are in all Governments 
 advanced to Pofts of Truft and great Em- 
 ployments in the State, while meer Wits 
 are regarded as, Men of the loweft iMerit, 
 and accordingly a.re promoted to the mean- 
 er and lefs profitable Places, being look'd 
 on, by reafon of their Inapplication and 
 volatile Temper, as unfit for-a higher ra- 
 tipn, 
 
 $$*- f i'. Kfl'J&ZK'J ' 'Ofl ''./ 
 
 A NO-
 
 WIT. 
 
 ANOTHER pernicious Abufe of Wit 
 is that which appears in the Writings 
 of fome ingenious Men, who are fo hardy 
 as to expofe from the Prefs the moft 
 venerable Subjects, and treat Vertue and 
 Sobriety of Manners with Raillery and 
 Ridicule. Several, in their Books, have 
 many farcaftical and fpiteful Strokes at 
 Religion in general, while others make 
 themfelves pleafant with the Principles of 
 the Chriftian. Of the laft kind this Age 
 has feen a moft audacious Example in the 
 Book intituPd, A Tale of a Tab. Had 
 this Writing been publifh'd in a Pagan or 
 Popifh Nation, who are juftly impatient 
 of all Indignity offer'd to the Eftablifh'd 
 Religion of their Country, no doubt but 
 the Author would have receiv'd the Punifh- 
 ment he deferv'd. But the Fate of this 
 impious Buffoon is very different ; for in 
 a Proteftant Kingdom, zealous of their 
 Civil and Religious Immunities, he has 
 not only efcap'd Affronts and the Effects 
 of publick Refentment, but has been ca- 
 refs'd and patroniz'd by Perfons of great 
 Figure and of all Denominations. Vio- 
 lent Party Men, who differ'd in all Things 
 befides, agreed, in their Turn, to fhew 
 particular Refpect and Friendfhip to this 
 jnfolent Derider of the Worfhip of his 
 
 Country,
 
 Ess AY 
 
 Country, till at lail the reputed Writer is 
 not only gone off with Impunity, but tri- 
 'umphs in his Dignity and Preferment. I 
 do not know, that any Inquiry or Search 
 was ever made after this Writing, or that 
 any Reward was ever offer'd for the Dif- 
 covery of ihe Author, or that the infa- 
 mous'Boo'k was ever condemned to be burnt 
 in Publick: 'Whether this proceeds from 
 the exteffive Efteem and Love that Men 
 in Power, during the late Reign, had for 
 Wit/ or their defeft of Zeal and Concern 
 for the Chriftian Religion, will be deter- 
 min'd 'beft by thofe, who are beft ac* 
 quainted with their Character. 
 
 BUT the moft extenfive Abufeof Parts 
 and Ingenuity, appears in the loofe Pro- 
 duftions of our Writers to the Stage. It 
 was the Complaint of the celebrated Wit 
 t>f Spaix, flfrckael de'Cervavtes, before- cited, 
 that the Comedies in his Time were not 
 only extravagant and monftrous in their 
 'Contrivance, but Hkewife the Exemplars 
 of Vice and Reprefentations of Lewdnefs: 
 But had the Plays m Spain, at that Time, 
 "been as Immoral and Unchafte as the daily 
 'Entertainments of the Britifb Theatre, 
 which have a manifeft Tendency to vitiate 
 theTafte of the People, fill their Imagi- 
 'nations with obfcene Ideas, and their Lives 
 * with
 
 uspm Wi T. 119 
 
 with Levity, Idlenefe and Luxury ; f fay, 
 if that great Man, whofe Judgment was 
 equal to his admirable Genius, had feen 
 Religion and Vertue fo derided, and Mo- 
 defty, Refervednefs, and Decency fo in- 
 fulted and expos'd, his Zeal for the Honour 
 of his Country, and his Love of Mankind, 
 would have animated him to have attack'd 
 the Comick Poets with the fame Spirit, 
 with which he aflaulted the prevailing 
 Folly of his Age, the Romantick Atchieve- 
 ments of Knights Errant ; his Wit and good 
 Senfe would have made thofe merry Au- 
 thors as odious for poifoning the People 
 with their loofe and immoral Writings, as 
 he made the others ridiculous for their ex- 
 travagant and idle Tales. 
 
 No doubt a Comedy may be fo con- 
 triv'd, that it may at once become delight- 
 ful, and promote Prudence and Sobriety 
 of Manners ; that is, when the Characters 
 are well chofen, juftly delineated, and 
 every where diftinguifh'd ; When the va- 
 rious Manners are exactly imitated and 
 carry'd on with Propriety and Uniformity ; 
 when the principal Action contains an in- 
 ftruclive Moral, and all the Parts in a re- 
 gular Connexion, Dependance and Pro- 
 portion, illuftrate and fupport each other, 
 and have a manifeft Influence on the main 
 
 Event;
 
 An ESSAY 
 
 Event ; When the Incidents are well ima- 
 gin'd, and refult from the Manners of the 
 Dramatick Perfons, when the Turns are 
 furprizing, the Knots or Obftru&ions na- 
 -tural and unconftram'd, and the unravel- 
 ing of them, tho unforefeen, yet free and 
 eafy; and when the Diftion is pure, pro- 
 per and elegant, as well as chafte and in- 
 offenfive to the modeft and vertuous Hear- 
 ers. So regular and beautiful a Piece a^ 
 this cannot but greatly pleafe and divert, 
 ;as well as inftrucl the Audience. Nor is 
 it, I imagine, from want of Knowledge 
 of the Rules of Writing, nor of furBcient 
 Genius, in which this Nation abounds, that 
 fo few Comedies, diftinguifh'd by thefe 
 Perfections, have been produc'd : But this 
 Defeft arifes partly from this, that the 
 Comick Poets are often Men of loofe Man- 
 ners, and therefore unlikely Perfons to un^ 
 dertake the Promotion and Encouragement 
 of Vertue, of which they have no Tafte, 
 and to difcountenance Imprudence and 
 Immorality, when by doing fo, they muft 
 expofe their own Character to denfion ; 
 tho fometimes it may happen, that a loofe 
 Poet as well as Preacher, merely from his 
 juft Manner of Thinking, and his Senfe 
 of Decency in forming Difcourfes be- 
 coming his Character, may entertain the 
 Audience with laudable Performances. 
 
 t ANP-
 
 ufm W i T. 
 
 ANOTHER, and the chief Caufe of 
 the Immorality of the Theatre, is the ill 
 Tafte of the People, who, notwithftand- 
 ing they have applauded feveral clean and 
 regular Tragedies, fuch as thofe which 
 have of late appear'd that are worthy of 
 the greateft Commendation, efpecially Cato 
 and the Plays for the moft part of Mr. Row, 
 as great a Genius for Tragedy as any Na- 
 tion in any Age has produced, yet ftill fre- 
 quent and encourage the loofeft Comedies. 
 It happens, that the greateft part of Men of 
 Wit and Humour, who not being eafy in 
 their Fortunes, work for the Stage, and 
 are Day-Labourers to the Mufes, lie un- 
 der a Neceffity of bringing thofe Pro- 
 du&ions to Market, which are in Fafhion, 
 and therefore vendible ; while others, tho 
 of ever fo much greater Value, would be 
 turn'd back upon their Hands ; nor would 
 the Aclors, who live by their Employ- 
 ment, as the Comick Writers do by 
 theirs, undertake to reprefent an Inno- 
 cent, and much lefs a Comedy of yet 
 higher Merit. 
 
 THO feveral Aflaults have been made 
 upon the Comick Poets in Fafhion, and 
 many Batteries have been rais'd again ii: 
 the Theatre, yet hitherto they have prov'd 
 
 unfuc-
 
 222 An EssAt 
 
 unfuccefsful ; the Stage is become Impreg* 
 nable, where loofe Poets, fupportcd by 
 Numbers, Power, and Intereft, in Defi- 
 ance of all Rules of Decency and Vertue, 
 flill provide new Snares and Temptations 
 to feduce the People, and corrupt their 
 Manners. Notwithftanding the earnelt 
 Cries of this great City, that importune 
 thefe "Writers to reform the Theatre, and 
 no longer to infect her Youth, and draw 
 their Inclinations from their Profeffions 
 and Employments ; notwithftanding the 
 Sighs and Tears of many once flourifli- 
 ing, but now difconfolate Families, ruin'd 
 hy the diflblute Lives of their chief Branch- 
 es, who loft their Vertue by frequenting 
 the fatal Entertainments of the 1 heatre ; 
 notwithftanding the wife and fober part of 
 the Kingdom earneftly follicit them to 
 fpare the People, to flop the fpreading 
 Plague and ftay the deftroying Pen, they 
 perlevere with intrepid Relblution and in- 
 exorable Cruelty, to poifon the Minds, and 
 ruin the Morals of the Nation. 
 
 THE great Archbi(hopr/7/^/^has fet 
 our prefent Theatre in a true Light in his 
 Difcourfe upon Corrupt Communication: 
 < I (hall only fpeak a few words concern- 
 " ing Plays, which as they are ROW or- 
 " der'd among us, are a mighty Reproach 
 " to the Age and Nation. To
 
 WIT. 
 
 < c T o fpeak againft them in general, 
 " may be thought too fevere, and that 
 " which the prefent Age cannot fo well 
 " brook, and would not perhaps be fo 
 " juil and reafonable ; becaufe it is very 
 u poflible they might be fo fram'd and go- 
 " vern'd by fuch Rules, as not only to be 
 " innocently diverting, but inftrufting and 
 " ufeful, to put fome Vices and Follies out 
 " of Countenance, which cannot perhaps 
 " be fo decently reprov'd, nor fo effe&u- 
 " ally expos'd and corrected any other 
 " way. But as the Stage now is, they are 
 " intollerable. and not fit to be permitted 
 " in a civiliz'd, much left a Chriftian Na- 
 " tion. They do moft notorioufly mini- 
 " fter both to Infidelity and Vice. By the 
 " Profanenefs of them, they are apt to in- 
 " ftii bad Principles into the Minds of 
 " Men, and to leflen that awe and reve- 
 u rence which all Men ought to have for 
 " God and Religion : and by their Lewd- 
 " nefs they teach Vice, and are apt to in- 
 " fe6l the Minds of Men, and difpofe 
 " them to lewd and diflblute Pradices. 
 
 "AND therefore I do not fee how any 
 " Perfons preteriding to Sobriety and Ver- 
 " tue, and efpecially to the pure and holy 
 " Religion of our Bleifed Saviour, can, 
 
 " with-
 
 ESSAY 
 
 " without great Guilt, and open Contra- 
 " diftion to his holy Profeflion, be prefent 
 " at fuch lewd and immocleft Plays, much 
 " lefs frequent them, as eoo many do, who 
 " yet would take it very ill to be (hut out 
 " of the Communion of Chriftians, as 
 " they would moft certainly have been in 
 " the firft and pureft Ages of Chriftia- 
 nity." 
 
 AND not only wife and fober Men have 
 declar'd their deteftation of the Immora- 
 lity of the Stage, but eminent Poets them- 
 felves, who have written the moft ap- 
 plauded Comedies, have own'd, that the 
 Theatre ftands in great need of Reftraints 
 and Regulation, and wifh'd that Plays 
 were compiled in fuch an inoffenfive Man- 
 ner, that not only difcreet and vertuous 
 Perfons of the Laity, but a Bifhop him- 
 felf, without being fhock'd, might be pre- 
 fent while they were aded. Mr. Dry- 
 den has, up and down in his Prefatory 
 Difcourfes and Dedications, freely acknow* 
 ledg'd the Loofenefs of our Dramatick En- 
 tertainments, which fometimes he charges 
 upon the Countenance given to it by the 
 dilTolute Court of King Charles the Second, 
 and fometimes upon the vitiated Tafte of 
 the People. In his Dedication of ^u-veml^ 
 made Englijh, to the late famous Earl of 
 
 Dcrfet,
 
 ufm WIT. 225 
 
 Darfif, he thus befpeaks him ; " As a 
 '< Counfellor bred up in the Knowledge of 
 *' the Municipal and Statute Laws may 
 " hpneftly inform a juft Prince how far 
 " his Prerogative extends, fo I may be al- 
 " low'd to tell your Lordfhip, who by 
 " an indifputed Title are the King of Po- 
 " ets, what an Extent of Power you have, 
 " and how lawfully you may exercife it 
 " over the petulant Scriblers of the Age. 
 " As Lord Chamberlain, you are abfolute 
 " by your Office, in all that belongs to the 
 " Decency and good Manners of the Stage ; 
 " You can banifh thence Scurrility and 
 " Profanenefs, and reftrain the licentious 
 " Infolence of the Poets and their Actors, 
 " in all things that (hock the publick Quiet 
 <l or the Reputation of private Perfons, 
 ** under the Notion of Humour?"* Hence 
 it evidently appears, that Mr. Dryden look'd 
 on the Decency of the Stage to be viola ted 
 in his Time, by licentious and infolent Po- 
 ets; and I wifh I could 'fay, that there is 
 lefs Reafon of Complaint in ours. In a 
 Copy of Vef fes, publifh'd In one of the 
 Volumes of the Mi'fcellany Poems, the 
 fame celebrated Author inveighs againft 
 he Lewdnefs and Pollutions of the Stage 
 
 in t;he ftfongeft ExprefTibns that can be 
 
 conceived ; and in hiis latter days, when 
 
 his Judgment was more Mature, he cqn- 
 
 Q." ' demns
 
 An ESSAY 
 
 BUT tho Men who love their Country, 
 
 born down with aTorrent of profane Liber- 
 
 tines, Perfons without Tafte and Diftinftion 
 
 of Vertue and Vice, have almoft defpair'd of 
 
 feeing the Comick Poets reformed, and the 
 
 exorbitant Liberties of the Stage reftrain'd 
 
 within the Limits of modeft Language and 
 
 decent Behaviour; yet now their Hopes 
 
 revive, and they promife to themfelves a 
 
 fudden and effectual Reformation of thefe 
 
 Abufes, fmce the Government has plac'd 
 
 fo worthy a Perfon at the Head of the 
 
 Actors, and given him ample Authority 
 
 to rectify their Errors : What a happy Re- 
 
 volution, what a regular and clean Stage 
 
 may juftly be now expected ? How free 
 
 from all fordid and impure Mixtures, how 
 
 innocent, as well as diverting, will our 
 
 Comedies appear, when they have been 
 
 corrected and refin'd by fuch an accom- 
 
 plifh'd Director of the Drama-tick Poets? 
 
 One that has a true and delicate Tafte, and 
 
 who is fenfible of the Indecencies and hurt- 
 
 ful Nature of our Plays ; who has engag'd 
 
 his celebrated Pen, in defiance of fneering 
 
 Wits and powerful Libertines, on the Side 
 
 of Vertue, and has propagated the Efteem 
 
 of Morals, Humanity, Decorum and So- 
 
 briety of Manners ; who with great Spi- 
 
 rit, Genius, and Courage, to his lafting 
 
 Honour,
 
 ufm Wi T. 
 
 Honour, has publickly expos'd the Abfur- 
 dities, Vices, and Follies, that ftain and 
 difgrace the Theatre ; in which Cenfure 
 he has not fpar'd his own Performances : 
 One who has exprefsM a warm Zeal on 
 this Subjeft, and declared his generous In- 
 tention, if it were in his Power, to cleanfe 
 thefe polluted Places, and not to fufFer a 
 Comedy to be prefented but what had paft 
 a fevere Examination, and where all things 
 which might fhock a modeft Ear, or be 
 Jook'd on as repugnant to good Manners, 
 might be expung'd. 
 
 Bu T if thefe fair Expectations fhould be 
 blafted in the Bloom, and notwithftand- 
 ing the vigorous Efforts which will be 
 made by this Reformer, Immorality fhall 
 maintain its ground and keep Poffefiion of 
 the Theatre, fome other Expedients may 
 be fuggefted to procure a Regulation. It 
 might, perhaps be defirable, that a few 
 Pcrfons of Importance, Men of Learning, 
 Gravity, and good Tafte, might be com- 
 miffion'd by Authority, as a Check upon 
 the Aftors, to cenfure and fupprefs any 
 Dramatick Entertainments that fhall orfeni 
 againft Religion, Sobriety of Manners, or 
 the Publick Peace; and all Perfons fhould 
 be encourag'd to fend them fuch loofe or 
 profane -PaSages which they hear from, the 
 Q. 3 Stage,
 
 An Ess AY 
 
 BUT tho Men who love their Country, 
 
 born down with aTorrent of profane Liber* 
 
 tines, Perfons without Tafte and Diftinftion 
 
 of Vertue and Vice, have almoft defpair'd of 
 
 feeing the Comick Poets reformed, and the 
 
 exorbitant Liberties of the Stage reftrain'd 
 
 within the Limits of modeft Language and 
 
 decent Behaviour; yet now their Hopes 
 
 revive, and they promife to themfelves a 
 
 fudden and effectual Reformation of thefe 
 
 Abufes, fmce the Government has plac'd 
 
 fo worthy a Perfon at the Head of the 
 
 Actors, and given him ample Authority 
 
 to rectify their Errors : What a happy Re- 
 
 volution, what a regular and clean Stage 
 
 may juftly be now expected ? How free 
 
 from all fordid and impure Mixtures, how 
 
 innocent, as well as diverting, will our 
 
 Comedies appear, when they have been 
 
 corrected and refin'd by fuch an accom- 
 
 plifh'd Director of the Dramatick Poets? 
 
 One that has a true and delicate Tafte, and 
 
 who is fenfible of the Indecencies and hurt- 
 
 ful Nature of our Plays ; who has engag'd 
 
 his celebrated Pen, in defiance of fneering 
 
 \Vits and powerful Libertines, on the Side 
 
 of Vertue, and has propagated the Efteem 
 
 of Morals, Humanity, Decorum and So- 
 
 briety of Manners ; who with great Spi- 
 
 rit, Genius, and Courage, to his lafting 
 
 Honour,
 
 ufon Wi T. 229 
 
 Honour, has publickly expos'd the Abfur- 
 dities, Vices, and Follies, that ftain and 
 difgrace the Theatre ; in which Cenfure 
 he has not fpar'd his own Performances : 
 One who has exprefs ? d a warm Zeal on 
 this Subjeft, and declared his generous In- 
 tention, if it were in his Power, to cleanfe 
 thefe polluted Places, and not to fuffer a 
 Comedy to be prefented but what had pa ft 
 a fevere Examination, and where all things 
 which might fhock a modeft Ear, or be 
 Jook'd on as repugnant to good Manners, 
 might be expung'd. 
 
 Bu T if thefe fair Expectations fhould be 
 blafted in the Bloom, and natwithftand- 
 ing the vigorous Efforts which will be 
 made by this Reformer, Immorality fhall 
 maintain its ground and keep PofTeflion of 
 the Theatre, fome other Expedients may 
 be fuggefted to procure a Regulation. It 
 might, perhaps be defirable, that a few 
 Pcrfons of Importance, Men of Learning, 
 Gravity, and good Tafte, might be com- 
 miflion'd by Authority, as a Check upon 
 the Aftors, to cenfure and fupprefs any 
 Dramatick Entertainments that fhall oifend 
 againft Religion, Sobriety of Manners, or 
 the Publick Peace ; and all Perfons fhould 
 be encourag'd to fend them fuch loofe or 
 profane -Paffages which they hearfrom.the 
 d 5 Stage,
 
 a 30 An Es s A,Y 
 
 Stage, or read in the printed Plays: Nor 
 will it be tefs expedient; that they fhould 
 be inftrufted to perufe the Plays already 
 publifrfd'.' and which are now publickly 
 acted, and to'expunge all ofFenfive and cri- 
 minal Mixtures, that hereafter they may 
 become a clean and innocent Diverfion. 
 Befides, this End would the more etfeclu^ 
 ally be accompli fh'd, if the Writers of 
 Comedy, Farce, and Interludes, were re* 
 warded and fupported by Means indepen- 
 dent on the Aftors : For while the Poets, 
 who write for a Maintenance, are -paid by 
 the Theatre, they will be under a great 
 Temptation to write as defir'd and di- 
 recled by the Actors, which was the Com- 
 plaint of Cervantes above-cited, concerqr 
 ing the Comick Poets of Spain. The 
 Aclors,' we ma-y fafely conclude, are not 
 rettrain'd by fuch rigorous Precepts of Ver* 
 tue,butthac they will always be inclin'd tQ 
 prefent thofe Performances which will e.ft 
 fill the Houfe and promote their Iqfereft \ 
 and therefore they will readily huRioyr 
 the vitiated Tafte of thp Audience, by 
 acling the moft immoral Plays, \vhil<? 
 they find their account in doing fo : AncJ 
 that which confirms this Obfervation is, 
 |:hat they nev^r, as far as I. have heard, re-f 
 jefled any Comedy merely for its Loofe- 
 iieiSj, ^ho I believe they have refus'd many 
 
 foi'
 
 WIT. 231 
 
 Jbr want of that entertaining Quality. 
 Now were the Comick Writers provided 
 of a Subfiftence fprne other way, they 
 would be deliver'd from the NecclTity of 
 complying with their A^Q r s, by writing 
 fuch Plays as they fhall beipeak, or at 
 leaft approve, as the moil lively to invite 
 a profitable Audience. 
 
 IT would prove an efteftual Remedy 
 for this Evil, if the Ladies would difcoun- 
 fenance thefe loofe Comedies, by expref- 
 ling their diflike, and refuting to be pre- 
 fent when they are afted : And this no 
 doubt they would do, were they inform'd, 
 fhat the Comedies which they encourage 
 by their Appearance at the Theatre, are 
 full of wanton Sentiments, obfcene Allq- 
 fions, and immodeft Ideas, contain'd in 
 ExprefTions of a double Meaning : for it 
 cannot be imagin'd they would bear with 
 Unconcernednefs, much lefs with Pleafure, 
 Difcourfes in Publick, which they deteft 
 as unfufferable in private Converfation, 
 if they knew them to be unchaft. And 
 fhould the Ladies aflert their Efteem of 
 Vertue, and decla^ openly on the Side 
 of Modefty, the'moft attraftive Beauty of 
 the fair Sex, as certainly they would do, 
 if they underftood how much thofe amia^ 
 ble Qualities have been expos'd a,nd afFront- 
 
 0. 4 "4
 
 $gi An Es s AY 
 
 ed by our moft eminent Comick Poets; 
 this would lay the Ax to the Root, 
 and at one Blow deftroy this pernicious 
 Practice; for after this, what Writer 
 would tranfgrefs the Rules of Decency 
 and Purity of Expreflion, when he knows, 
 that by his immodeft Mixtures he diall 
 fright the Ladies from the Houfe ? 
 
 IT would be another effeftual Means 
 to redrefs the Grievance of the Stage, if 
 the Clergy could be prevaiPd upon to 
 condemn from the Pulpit and the Prefs, 
 as well as in their Converfation, the un- 
 juftifiable Entertainments of the Theatre 
 would they infift upon it, and urge it as 
 a necefTary Duty of the People to avoid 
 thefe Occafions, and at leaft Appearan- 
 ces of Evil ; would they (hew them, 
 that by frequenting thefe unwarrantable 
 Diverfions, they rufh into Snares, court 
 Temptation, and invite others to follow 
 their criminal Example: would they fet 
 before them the Hazard of playing on 
 the nice and dubious Limits of Inno- 
 cence, and adventuring to the utmoft Ex- 
 ,tent of Vertue and the Frontier of Vice, 
 there would be great hopes of fremming 
 this ftrong Tide of Iniquity. And this 
 is no more than the indifpenfable Ob- 
 ligation, which our Divines are under, 
 
 whofc
 
 ufon Wi T. 233 
 
 whofe proper Province it is to warn the 
 People of their Danger, and to prefs 
 them earneftly to fly from it. This ve- 
 nerable Order have, by folemn Engage- 
 ments, fet themfelves apart, as fpiritual 
 Guides, to point out the fatal Rocks and 
 treacherous Sands to their Neighbours, 
 that they may not make Shipwreck of 
 Modefty and Innocence, and plunge in- 
 to the Depths of Irreligion and Vice : 
 Nor is it obvious, why thefe Reverend 
 Teachers, by their Silence and Neutrali- 
 ty, fhould give Profanenefs and Immora- 
 lity fuch fair Play, as if the Controverfy 
 between the Stage and the Fulpit were 
 compremis'd, and the Poets and the Priefts 
 were engag'd, as indeed they ought to 
 be, in the fame good Defigns, Interefts, 
 and Purfuits. It is certain, that this 
 Mildnefs, and friendly Behaviour of the 
 Clergy to the Comick Writers, cannot a- 
 rife from any Refpeft or hand fo me Ufage 
 which that facred Order has met with 
 on the Theatre, where they have been 
 fo often jerk'd and exposed in fuch a 
 manner, that their Divine Function has 
 been wounded through their Sides. 
 
 THE Clergy lie 'under fuch man ifeft 
 Obligations to attack publick Immorali- 
 ty, wherever it is found, and by what- 
 
 foever
 
 Ess AY 
 
 foever Patrons of Power, Dignity, and 
 Intereft it is fhelter'd and fupported, thatj 
 as I have fuggefted, it is not eafy to ima- 
 
 finfe whence their' Lenity and Tender- 
 efs for the Theatre can proceed. But it 
 the true Reafon of it, whatever it is, 
 and which is fo hard to be accounted for, 
 were remov'd, and our Divines would u> 
 tereft themfelves with Zeal in the Caufe 
 of Vertue, in refpeft to our Dramatick 
 Entertainments, as they efpoufe and de- 
 fend it in all other InftancesJ I cannot 
 believe that the Stage, without a Regu- 
 lation, would be able to ftand, when bat- 
 ter'd with Vigor from the Pulpit. The 
 Poets and Players would foon find them- 
 felvcs oblig'd to rettrain their licentious 
 Conduct, reform the Theatre, and preV 
 fent to the Town, if not inftruQive, at 
 leaft inoffenfive and unfhocking Diverfi- 
 ons. And it is very defirable, that this 
 Expedient were fet on foot, that the Ho- 
 nour of the Englifb Theatre may be re- 
 trievM ; that while we juftly boaft of 
 our Priority in Wit and Humoui 1 to our 
 Neighbours, we may not be oblig'd to 
 acknowledge the great Inferiority of our 
 Comedies, in refpet of Cleannefs and mo- 
 ral Beauty ; that we may not be re- 
 proach'd, that while we profefs a Re- 
 fbrm'd and pure Religion, we encourage 
 ^ an
 
 Wi T. 235 
 
 an immodeft and unreform'd Theatre, and 
 that we are very defective in the Prac- 
 tice of Vertue and Regularity of Man- 
 ners, while thefe Abominations are in- 
 dulg'd, and thefe unhallow'd Groves and 
 High Places of Immorality are frequentec} 
 w tthout Difturbance. 
 
 A N
 
 "-?s
 
 AN 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON 
 
 FALSE VERTUE.
 
 A 8. a 
 
 u T Ji a a & J A i 
 
 ^!^^
 
 - 
 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON 
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 
 
 HE Propenfions inherent la 
 the Faculties,and interwoven 
 with the Conftitution of de- 
 prav'd Man, carry the Will 
 with fo ftrong a Biafs to 
 fenfual Plea Cure, that the greateft Part of 
 the World have always difrelifh'd thofe re- 
 ligious Di&ates of Reafon, which laid 
 them under Obligations to reftrain their 
 inordinate Appetites; but at the fame time 
 believing the Exiftence of a Deity, the 
 Moderator and Judge of the World, at 
 
 whofe
 
 SSAY jp0 
 
 whofe Tribunal they look'd on Man as 
 an accountable Being, and finding in 
 themfelves that the Confequence of Guilt 
 was unavoidable Remorfe, as well as ter- 
 rible Apprehenfions of Divine Difpleafure, 
 they thought it neceffary, for removing 
 the Difquiet of their Minds, to atone the 
 fupream Being, and procure his Favour; 
 and therefore instituted fuch Forms of 
 Religion and Modes of Adoration, as they 
 judg'd mod effectual for this purpofe. ,But 
 nqt being willing to undergo the feyere 
 and difficult Task of fubduing their irre- 
 gular Paflions, and denying their Senfes, 
 they defign'd fuch Schemes of Religion, as 
 might, in their Opinion, at once be ac- 
 ceptable j to Heaven, and eafy to their cri- 
 minal Inclinations. In order to this, in- 
 ftead of Purity of Mind and the Practice 
 of Vertue y they contriv'd an external Wor- 
 fhip of the Deity, confifting of various 
 .Hites and Ceremonies, which only affec~t- 
 ,^d their Bodies or diminifh'd their Trea- 
 fure: They erected ftately Temples, con- 
 fee rated. Pr lefts to oiBciate at their Altars, 
 .and appointed numerous Feftivals, folemn 
 Procefllons, and various Plays and Exer- 
 <:iies, in Honour of their Gods, hoping 
 they. would be appeas'd and, reconcifd by 
 t^is pompous and coftly Devotion. Nbr 
 r^idf^y forbear the Severities and Pains 
 * . of
 
 FAJL&E VERTUE. 241 
 
 ot Failing, Scourging, and performing Pil- 
 grimages ; by which they endeavour'd to 
 revenge the Guilt of their Minds on their 
 fuffering Bodies. They likewife profufely 
 prefented their Gods with rich Offerings^ 
 and beauttfy'd their Temples and Images 
 with expenfive Ornaments: They were 
 willing to commute for inward Piety and 
 elTential Goodncfs at any Price, and could 
 part with their Eafe and Wealth, and 
 fometimes with Life it felf, raiher than 
 renounce the Principles of Religion ; from 
 the Practice of which they defir'd how- 
 ever to be excus'd ; and were contented to 
 facrifice their Children, thq not their Vi- 
 ces, to their imaginary Deities. 
 
 THE greater! part of the Heathen 
 World fatisfy'd their Minds with fuch re- 
 ligious Inititutions as I have memion'd, 
 tho it muft be allow'd that a fmall num- 
 ber of more reafonable Perfons plainly dif- 
 cern'd the infuificiency of thefe outward 
 Ex pre (lions of Refpeft and Veneration 
 paid to the Gods, not accompany 'd with 
 a vertuous Life, to denominate a good 
 Man, and make him acceptable to Hea- 
 ven. And notwithstanding the Redeemer 
 -of Mankind, when he pubh'frfd his Sy- 
 Item of Religion to the World, acquaint- 
 ed his Followers in the fulleft and clear- 
 R eft
 
 -An E s s A V upon 
 
 eft Terms, that the Soul and Spirit of Re- 
 ligion confifted in the pious Inclinations of 
 their Minds, and the Innocence and Inte- 
 grity of their Manners, and not in exter- 
 nal Splendor, nor any corporeal Aufteri- 
 ties ; yet how foon did the Simplicity and 
 fpiritual Nature of his Institution dege- 
 nerate into outward Ceremony and a me- 
 chanical Devotion of the Body ? All Man- 
 kind exprefs an equal deadnefs and indif- 
 pofition to the extirpation of vicious Pro- 
 penfions, and the fincere Practice of Ver- 
 tue, from whatever Seel: of Religion they 
 take their Denomination. And tho the 
 Chriftian Inftitution, by affording clearer 
 Light and greater Encouragements and 
 Arfiftance to Obedience than the Pagans 
 ever enjoy'd, is far more prevalent to con- 
 quer that Reluctance and Averfion that is 
 found in the Minds of Men to true Piety ; 
 yet it muft be confefs'd, that the far great- 
 eft part of Chriftians have, in common 
 with the Heathen World, a ftrong Incli- 
 nation to compremife the Matter with 
 Heaven ; and inftead of internal Purity 
 and a regular Life, to put off the Deity 
 with fuperftitious Rites, magnificent De- 
 corations, and bodily Worfhip, while they 
 flatter themfeives that he will reft fatif- 
 fy'd with this fplendid Devotion, tho he 
 exprefly declares the contrary. 
 
 IN
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 243 
 
 IN the mean time, a number of more 
 judicious Perfons not being able to recon- 
 concile the Precepts of Chriftianity to a 
 rneer Ceremonial Religion, abftra&ing from 
 intrinfick Piety and the moral Goodnefs of 
 their Actions, to eafe their Remorfe and 
 unquiet Reflections, and fecure their future 
 Happinefs, fet up fpurious and falfe Ver- 
 tues in the place of the genuine and fin- 
 cere; while others yet more inlighten'd 
 bid higher for the Favour of Heaven, by 
 embracing and cultivating fome real Ver- 
 tues ; which, however, being in a weaker 
 degree, and over-balanc'd by ftronger evil 
 Inclinations in their Hearts, and Immora- 
 lity in their Lives, are infufficient to deno- 
 minate them good Men, and to give them 
 a Title to future Felicity. 
 
 As to the firft of thefe, to convince 
 them of their Error in this important 
 Cafe, and fubvert their ill-grounded and 
 prefumptuous Opinion of their being Men 
 of Vertue, the following Obfervation may 
 have fome Weight and Influence. 
 
 THE necefTary intrinfick Principle which 
 
 conftitutes a moral Action, is an End de* 
 
 fign'd ; and that which confines its general 
 
 Nature, and diftinguifhes a good Aftion 
 
 R 2 from
 
 An ESSAY upon 
 
 from an evil one is a right End, which 
 excites the Will to chufe it, and to which 
 it is direfted in the Intention of the A- 
 gent. It is not poflible that the Author 
 and Lord of Nature ftiould have any other 
 Defign in creating an intelligent Being, 
 and endowing him with Faculties to know, 
 obey, and adore his Maker, than to ma- 
 nifeft his own Perfections in the Happi- 
 nefs of fuch a Creature : His own Ho- 
 nour in producing a Being of fo high a 
 Rank, by which he exprefs'd his Power 
 and Wifdom, as well as his Delight in 
 communicating his immenfe Goodnefs, muft 
 be firft intended by him. And unlefs Men 
 may be allow'd to endeavour to difappoint 
 the fupream Caufe, and oppofe the De- 
 fign of their coming into Being, then the 
 End which the Creator propos'd to him- 
 felf in creating, ought likewife to be the 
 End which his Creature fhould chufe and 
 purfue. 
 
 BESIDES, he evidently declares the 
 End for which fuch a Being is defign'd 
 by the Faculties, which he imparted to 
 him in his Formation. Whence it plainly 
 will appear, that it is the Duty of Man to 
 acl according to the Capacities, Powers, 
 and Endowments of his Nature, and 
 through all his Schemes of Life, to aim at 
 t the
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 24.5 
 
 the only End of his Being ; that is, the 
 Glory of his Creator, and his own Per- 
 fection and Felicity. The choice of this 
 principal End and the Reference and Sub- 
 ordination to it in the Mind of the Agent, 
 is the fpecifick Qualification of every Acti- 
 on morally Good ; and where the Direc- 
 tion of the Mind is wanting to promote 
 this ultimate End by a due Connexion of 
 the Action with it, that Action is morally 
 Evil. And tho it is mod certain, that the 
 Moderator of the World, by his wife and 
 over-ruling Providence, will attain the great 
 and glorious Ends of his Government, and 
 make thofe who have no fuch Defign, his 
 Inftruments to bring them about; yet if 
 any Man does not in his Intention and 
 Choice endeavour to advance thofe Ends, 
 his Pretences to Vertue will be fruitlefs 
 and impertinent. 
 
 Inflames of FALSE VERTUE. 
 
 O u p p o s E a Patriot of eminent Abili- 
 *^ ties fhould, in bad Times, with great 
 Sagacity, Courage, and Diligence, oppofe 
 and defeat the mifchievous Defigns of 
 evil Miniilers, and detect the Frauds and 
 Corruptions of Under-Oificers employ'd 
 in the Government ; if all his Clamour 
 againft the ill Management of Publick At- 
 R 5 fairs,
 
 An ESSAY upon 
 
 fairs, and his great Induftry and Zeal for 
 the common Good terminate in private 
 Aims : If his Vigilance and Labour to 
 pull down Men in Power, fprings from 
 an ambitious View to raife himfelf in a 
 new Scheme of Adminiftration, to fome 
 great Place of Profit or Honour, let him 
 be ever fo much valu'd and applauded by 
 the People, as one tfcat has deferv'd well 
 of his Country, yet his Actions taking 
 their Rife from the irregular Motive of 
 Self-Intereft, he has no manner of Claim 
 to the Character of a vertuous Man. 
 
 I F a Perfon of Power and Wealth, who 
 defigns the Improvement of Mens intel- 
 lectual Faculties, by advancing Arts and 
 Sciences, and embellifhing the Language 
 of his Country, fhould encourage Philofo- 
 phy and polite Literature, fhould carefo 
 the Authors of diftinguifh'd Merit, and 
 reward their Labours with Gifts and Pie- 
 ferment, fuch a Patron of Learning difco- 
 vers eminent Marks of a great and ge- 
 nerous Mind. But if this Refpecl: paid 
 to Men of Letters proceeds from a Pro- 
 fpect and Expectation, that Perfons of E- 
 rudition fhould every where mention his 
 Name with Honour, and that all the fine 
 Pens of the Age fhould celebrate his Praifes, 
 and propagate the Efteem of their boun^ 
 
 tiful
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 24.7 
 
 tiful M*cen&s : If his aim be to engrofs 
 the Dedications of the principal Writers, 
 and have the Satisfaction of foothing his 
 Vanity and Self- Ad miration, by feeing his 
 extraordinary Qualities fet in a ftrong Light 
 by an artful Flatterer ; this is fo far from 
 being a fmgular Vertue, that 'tis a great 
 Blemifh and Diftemper of Mind : for what 
 is this but for a Man to make himfelf the 
 Idol of his own Efteem and Adoration, 
 and to engage mercenary Authors to bring 
 in Votaries, that mutt burn their Incenfe 
 at an Altar, which infatiable Thirft of 
 Praife has fet up. 
 
 IT is the fame Cafe, fhould any Man 
 in his Converfation and Behaviour, ex- 
 prefs all the Marks of Gentlenefs, good- 
 Nature, and Benevolence to his Friends 
 and Acquaintarce ; fhould he addrefs him- 
 felf to every Man in the moft courteous 
 and obliging manner, and not only fpeak 
 handfomely of them in their Abfence, excufe 
 and cover their Defeats, do juftice to their 
 Merit, and promote their Reputation, but 
 likewife flhould be ready, with a liberal 
 Hand, to amft them in their Wants, and 
 by raifing them to Places of Profit, to 
 make them eafy in their Fortunes ; in fhort, 
 fhould he take all Occafions to do good 
 Offices to all Men : If fiich a polite and 
 R accom-
 
 148 An ESSAY 
 
 accompli fh'd Perfon, by his amiable Ex* 
 preflions of Humanity and fine Nature, 
 principally aims at procuring Applaufe 'to 
 gratify his own Vanity and Self-Admir-ft* 
 tion: If lie fays kind Things to others, 
 that they in their Tu,rn may fpeak ; well 
 of him, and ftnves to oblige every Man, 
 that every Man may applaud his Charac- 
 ter and fpread the Opinion of his excellent 
 Qualities; it; is certain,.tljat while his 'In- 
 tention in _all this fpjeno 1 id Train of Acti- 
 ons is ; chiefly *hat a plentiful Harveft of 
 Praife and popularity may come home to 
 himfelf, this fine Gentleman, can never be 
 a Man pf Vertue, being mov'd by fuch 
 a,n irregular Principle ; no, tho he fhould 
 with the wmoft Modefty and outward 
 figns of Diflatisfa&ion decline the Enco- 
 miums of his Admirers, whilft at the fame 
 time he thinks, that by fo doing he fhall 
 acquire yet -greater Honour, and make him* 
 ielf more confiderable in the Opinion of 
 the World, by adding the Character of 
 Modefty to the reft of his eminent En- 
 dowments ; for this is ftill by more fub- 
 tile, but more effectual Ways, to accom- 
 pli (h his main Defign : And therefore while 
 he fets himfelf up in the place of the 
 Deity, adores his own -Perfections, and 
 offers Praife and Admiration to himfelf, 
 he is a deform'd Being in the ifipft charm- 
 ing
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 
 
 ing and beautiful Drefs, and refernblesan 
 impure Spirit cloath'd like an Angel of 
 Light. 
 
 No Vertue in a Perfon of high Rank 
 and Fortune, is more amiable or more ap- 
 plauded than Generofity, which is a ready 
 difpofition of fhew.ing Kindnefs, and do- 
 ing Good to Mankind. A cpmpaffionate 
 Heart and an open Hand, abov-e all other 
 excellent Qualities, attract Efteem and cre- 
 ate Affection and Popularity; tho we 
 praife and admire Men for their Forti- 
 tude and Temperance, their Capacity and 
 Application to Bufinefs ; yet Love and 
 Gratitude are produc'd only by Bounty 
 and Munificence. It was well faid by 
 the Philofopher, That thofe rnofl refemble 
 the Gods, who need leaft for themfelves, 
 and do moft Good to others. To relieve 
 the W-ants and Neceflities of the Indi- 
 gent, folace the Difconfolate, and to find 
 out and advance modeft Merit and neg- 
 lected Vertue ; to defend the Opprefs'd, 
 encourage the Induftrious, and lay hold 
 on all Occafions of promoting the Eafe 
 and Happinefs of others, plainly demon- 
 ftrates a great and excellent Difpofition, 
 as oft as thefe amiable Actions arife from 
 a good Principle, and are direcled to a 
 right End. But if it happens that this 
 
 liberal
 
 550 : dn ESSAY ufm 
 
 liberal and generous Perfon aims chiefly at 
 Popularity ; if that is the charming Idea 
 that fooths his Imagination, unlocks his 
 Coffers, and diffipates his Treafure ; if by 
 the Profufion of his Wealth, he labours to 
 gain the Hearts of the People to carry on 
 his own private Intereft, and like Julius; 
 Ctfar, lavifhes out his whole Fortune, 
 that by this means he may engage a fuf- 
 ficient number of Creatures and Adherents 
 to raife him to Dignity and Dominion ; 
 it will plainly appear, that this Perfon is 
 only liberal and generous to himfelf, and 
 that by all his good Offices and endlefs 
 Expence, he is purchafing Efteem and 
 Power, and by his Munificence and Boun- 
 ty, defigns no more than to bribe the 
 People, to gratify his Ambition. 
 
 
 SHOULD a General be eminent in all 
 military Qualities, vigilant, wife, and acl> 
 ive in disappointing the Projects of an 
 Enemy, and in taking all Advantages 
 to furprize and defeat him ; tho he is 
 perfectly capable of governing a War, 
 and forming Schemes of Aftion with 
 the greateft Judgment, is cool and fe- 
 date in Council, and as warm and brave 
 in Battle ; tho he thinks juftly, deter- 
 mines with Deliberation, and executes 
 his Defigns with the utmoft Celerity ; 
 
 tho
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 751 
 
 tbo by repeated Victories and a long Se- 
 ries of great and fuccefsful Campaigns, he 
 fhould reduce the Power of afpiring Mo- 
 narchs, and by procuring Safety to his 
 Country, and Peace and Liberty to his 
 injur'd Neighbours, he fhould acquire im- 
 mortal Honour to himfelf : if this applaud- 
 ed Hero fhould, in his memorable Under- 
 takings, be chiefly mov'd and animated by 
 a paffionate Defire of enjoying the Shouts 
 and Acclamations of the People, and theTri- 
 umph of a publick Entry : Or fuppofe this 
 celebrated Warrior fhould be excited by 
 a Principle of Avarice, to engage in En- 
 terprizes full of Difficulty and Danger ; 
 fhould hedifcharge the Duties of his high 
 Station and Truft with admirable XTon- 
 duft, and perform ever fo great Wonders, 
 chiefly with a Profpeft of heaping up 
 Riches, and procuring an immenfe For- 
 tune to his Family : or if to gratify his 
 Pride and afpiring Ambition, he has chiefly 
 at Heart the Acquifition of Power and Do- 
 minion, by which he may be enabled to 
 revenge himfelf upon his Enemies, dif- 
 poflefs his Rivals, and advance his Crea- 
 tures to Pofts of Profit and Honour, it is 
 evident, that this Perfon's great A&ions 
 arifing from an irregular Spring, and di- 
 refted by perfonal Views, can by no means 
 be accounted morally Good : They plainly 
 
 pro-
 
 252 > An ESSAY ufm 
 
 proceed from a falfe Fortitude, nor has 
 the Author any genuine Vertue but Mi- 
 u! 
 
 ' 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING a Counfelfor at 
 Law (ibould be evjer fo much applauded 
 for his great Abilities and indefatigable 
 Application, and efteem'd for his Probity 
 and faithful (Performance of his Duty in 
 <die Bufineis of his Profeflion, by which 
 eminent Qualities he becomes very ufeful 
 to his Country ; yet if the Spring of his 
 Iriduftry is an immoderate love of Mony ; 
 if his Soul moves and gravitates toRiches, 
 ^s it were i>y a natural and an irrefiftible 
 InflinQ:, which exerts it felf without wait- 
 ing for cthe Approbation of Reafon, while 
 jio Acquifitions can abate his Defire, but 
 his Lutt of Riclies ftill rages and continues 
 to burn with unextinguifh'd uterine Fury : 
 ifihe is illiberal, ungenerous, and fordid ; 
 if the touching of his Purfe goes imme- 
 diately to his Heart, and notwithftanding 
 his great Wealth, he fenfibly feels his part- 
 ing with a Shilling ; if the fight of a Din- 
 ner at his Table, more expenfive than or- 
 dinary, puts him. into a cold Sweat, and 
 the News of a trivial Lofs draws Tears 
 from his Eyes; this Perfon has not the 
 leaft Title to the Appellation of a good Man, 
 \vhofe Aims thus terminate an his worldly 
 Intereft. LET
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 253 
 
 LET an able Phyfician apply himfelf 
 with theutmoft Diligence to the Duty of 
 his Profeflion, and exprefs the greateft 
 Tendernefs, Care, and Skill, in reftoring 
 Health to the Sick, and Eafe to Men in 
 Pain ; let him, with incredible Induftry, 
 weary himfelf by Day and deny himfelf 
 Reft by Night ; let him, with a fedate 
 and unruffled Temper, bear the Pride and 
 Peevifhnefs of fomc, the Weaknefs, Im- 
 pertinence, and Morofenefs of others ; 
 let him, with invincible Patience, hear 
 the Reproaches and injurious Reflections 
 caft upon him by angry Families, where 
 notwithstanding his utmoft Art and Vigi- 
 lance, he has mifs'd Succefs; let him be 
 ever fo charitable to the Indigent, be- 
 ftowing upon them, without Reward* 
 Advice, Phyfick, and Food, and treat all 
 Mankind with Humanity, Condefcention 
 and refpectful Behaviour; yet fhould it 
 be fuppos'd that this Perfon is ated by a 
 wrong Spring, and that his chief Aim is 
 to gain general Efteem and the name of a 
 great Man in his Profeflion, or to make his 
 Credit fubfervient to his covetous Defires ; 
 while from his fuperior Reputation he hopes 
 to be univerfally confulted ; and by this 
 means be able not only to fupport,but enrich 
 his Family, purchafe great PoiTeffions, and 
 
 leave
 
 254 </4 Es s A Y 
 
 leave behind him a plentiful Fortune : If 
 this, I fay, be fuppos'd, the Doftor's ap- 
 plauded Vertue is nothing elfe but fordid 
 Self-Intereft and odious Avarice, conceaPd 
 under the fair Appearance and hypocriti- 
 cal Difguife of thofe bright Qualities that 
 confpire in his Character. A good Phyfi- 
 cian he may be, but it is impoflible for 
 him to be a good Man, while the Inten- 
 tion of a right End, which is abfolutely 
 neceflary to give that Appellation, is plainly 
 wanting. 
 
 N o R is the Cafe different with one of 
 the facred Profeflion ; for fhould a Divine 
 difcover the Marks of the higheft Zeal 
 imaginable to inftrucl: and reform the 
 World, to fill the Minds of the People 
 with great and jurl Ideas of Religious and 
 Celeftial Objects, and wife and worthy 
 Sentiments, and raife in their Breafts de- 
 vout and generous Paflions, as well as vi- 
 gorous Refolutions to correct: their Errors ; 
 fhould he exhaull his Strength, fometimes 
 by exceffive Reading, and fometimes by 
 intenfe Contemplation, in compofmg ex- 
 cellent Difcourfes for the Prefs and the 
 Pulpit ; fhould he employ the Vehemence 
 of St. Paul to convince and terrify, and 
 the Benevolence and Bowels of St. John^ 
 to entreat and perfuade a flupid and de- 
 generate
 
 FALSE VERTUE:. 25$ 
 generate People to take Care of their In- 
 tereft in the future World, by reforming 
 their criminal Life in this : If all the Hours 
 that can be fpar'd from his Study, his 
 Pulpit and Domeftick Affairs are employ'd 
 in going about doing Good, in exhorting 
 his People to Afts of Vertue and Devo- 
 tion, in reconciling the Differences of his 
 Neighbours, vifiting the Sick, and folli- 
 citing the Rich to relieve the Poor ; till by 
 his watchful Care and unwearied Labours, 
 he has exhaufted his Strength and ema- 
 ciated his Body, and feems a venerable 
 Spectacle of Mortification and San&ity : 
 If, I fay, the main Defign of this Reve- 
 rend Perfon is to acquire Praife and Popu- 
 larity, and the principal Impulfe that moves 
 him is a defire to be admir'd and applaud- 
 ed as a Man of refin'd Parts and ftrong 
 Reafon, of charming Eloquence and con- 
 fummate Erudition : Or fuppofe, that in the 
 Courfe of his Life his principal End is to 
 gain Preferment, and to rife by Degrees 
 to the higheft Order of the Church ; that 
 he may acquire great Revenues to gratify 
 his Avarice, and Dignity, and Power to 
 (both his Ambition, it will follow that his 
 brighter!: Actions are no more than artful 
 Impoftures, and have nothing in them but 
 counterfeit Vertue and perfonated Piety. 
 
 * SHOULD
 
 256 A ESSAY ujioft 
 
 SHOULD a Magiftrate ufe the greatefl 
 Induftry, and exert all his Authority to 
 propagate Religion and fober Manners, and 
 fupprefs the prevailing Power of Immo- 
 rality ; and to this end fhould, with im- 
 partial Juftice, punifh the Guilty ; and to 
 encourage Obedience and Regularity of 
 Life, fhew to good Men repeated Marks 
 of his Charity^ Refpecl, and Favour. Be- 
 fides, fhould he write Books on the Side 
 of Vertue, expofe Vice and Folly by the 
 molt pointed and elegant Satire, and in 
 the moft pathetick and polite Stile, urge 
 the People to reform their loofe Behavi- 
 our. Or fhould he difperfe among his 
 Neighbours, at his own Expence, the ex- 
 cellent Writings of other Men adapted to 
 the fame laudable Purpofe ; that is, the 
 reclaiming the Vicious, and confirming the 
 Good in the Ways of Vertue. If thefe 
 fhining Actions flow from an impure Foun- 
 tain ; if this fingular Zeal and Concern 
 about mending the World, is to atone for 
 ibme fecret Guilt ; or if the Perfon fo em* 
 ploy'd intends to procure the Character 
 of a religious and fober Man, that under 
 that Difguife he may carry on fome fecret 
 Jntereft, and principally aims at Profit or 
 Applaufe, his beautiful Deeds are no more 
 than empty Clouds and gaudy Phantomes, 
 
 that
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 157 
 
 that have indeed the Face and outward 
 Appearance of valuable Performances, but 
 wanting the Eflential Part that conftitutes 
 moral Goodnefs, I mean, the Intention of 
 a right End, which is to pleafe the Di- 
 vine Being, and obtain Future Happinefs 
 in his Favour, they have only the Name, 
 without the Nature of Vertue; nor can 
 they adminifter any folid Satisfaction here, 
 or any juft Expectations of Felicity here- 
 after. But if any Perfons who endeavour 
 to reform the Manners of other Men, are 
 in the fame or other Inftances, as great 
 Criminals themfelves : If a Libertine, that 
 plunges himfelf in Vice, wallows in Pol- 
 lution, and gives the Reins to his inordi* 
 nate Appetites, becomes a great Stickler 
 in the Caufe of Vertue and Religion : If 
 one that defrauds his Neighbour, fllould 
 expofe Falfhood, and difplay the Beauties 
 of Integrity and Juftice ; if a profane 
 Swearer, or loofe intemperate Companion, 
 fhould inveigh againlt inorofe Humour, 
 Cruelty, and Hypocrify ; nothing would 
 be more evident than that the Attempts of 
 fuch unqualify 'd Perfons to correct and 
 reform the Errors and Faults of the Peo- 
 plej cannot arife from a regular Principle, 
 nor can they be directed to a pious End ; 
 the Reafon is, becaufe Vertue is an even 
 and uniform Habit, and where it is ge- 
 S miine
 
 E s s A Y upon 
 
 nuine and prevalent, it difpofes the Mind 
 to an equal Obfervance of all moral Obli- 
 gations ; and when it is unoperative and 
 ineffectual in any one Inftance, that is, 
 when it leaves any one vicious Habit un- 
 fubdu'd, all the other fine Qualities muft 
 be pronounc'd fpurious Vertues ; for did 
 they fpring from a right Caufe, and were 
 they guided by a juft Intention, the fame 
 Principle and End would direcl and influ- 
 ence all the reft of their Actions, and 
 make their Lives regular and of a piece. 
 
 IF this were adverted to, Men would 
 not be fo abfurd and unreafonable as to 
 attempt a compremifing of the Difference 
 between inconfiftent Ideas, by mingling 
 diflblute- Manners and flagrant Vices, in 
 the Character of a good Man ; and then, 
 if Men will adhere to their criminal Cour- 
 fes; they may at leaft be fet right in a 
 Matter of this Importance, and not be 
 abus'd by unmerited Panegyrick, flattered 
 with Titles of Men of Vertue, -and cry'd 
 up as Obje&s of Applaufe snd Admira- 
 tion. It is obferv'd by leaned Men, that 
 nothing perplexes and clftfounds the Un- 
 derftanding more, or S a greater Hin- 
 drance to right Concepts and Improve- 
 ment in Science, than fife indiftinA and 
 confus'd Application of v^ds to Things. 
 
 ittk. Nor
 
 Nor is it lefs true, that nothing more per- 
 verts the Mind, and obftruU the Growth 
 of Religion arid Morality, than the Ap- 
 pellation of a Perfon of Vertue attributed 
 to thofe, who have not the leaft Claim to 
 it. Tho it is a fad Truth, that there are 
 infinite Numbers of loofe and bad Men 
 in the World, yet it is as certain that 
 very few, if any, of this vaft Body wijt 
 acknowledge they are fo, and take to them- 
 felves the Denomination they deferve ; 
 which muft needs arife from tjie falfe No- 
 tions they have entertain'd of Vertue and 
 Vice. But if Flatterers would fufferMea 
 to go by their right Names^ and were 
 the People appriz'd of the efTential Diffe- 
 rence between moral Good and Evil, is 
 would be im'poflible that any (liquid be fo 
 grofly impos'd upon. For if a Perfon may 
 at once be allow'd to be remarkable foif 
 Heroick Vertue and Impiety, irifatiable 
 Avarice and Love to his Country, Fraud 
 and Humanity, Honour and Injuftice, ot. 
 flagitious Manners and Zeal fdr Religion-; 
 if one that is piung'd in the Dregs of Vice 
 may deferve the Name of a good Man, 
 and the Libertine may expect in a Future 
 State the Reward of a Saint; if thefe 
 Ideas, I fay, are not granted to be de* 
 ilruclive of one another, then Light and 
 Darknefs are become Friends, tfce grofldi 
 S 2 Abfur*
 
 a6o An Es s AY upon 
 Abfurdities will be made eafy to our Ap- 
 prehenfion, nor fhould Contradictions any 
 longer be look'd on as inconfiftent. 
 
 THUS! have given many Inftances of 
 fuch Qualities as have the exterior Refem- 
 blance and fplendid Appearance of Ver- 
 tue ; but not being animated by a right 
 Principle and End, which are the Life 
 and informing Spirit of moral Goodnefs, 
 are only beautiful Illufions and empty 
 Shadows, and are no more genuine Ver- 
 tue, than a painted Tree is a real Vegeta- 
 ble, or a Statue is a Man. It is true, that 
 in feveral of thcfe Examples, the irregu- 
 fer but hidden Spring of Mens Actions 
 not being difcernable to others, in the 
 Judgment of Charity they ought to be 
 efteem'd vertuous Perfons ; but he that ob- 
 ferves the in mod Recefles of the Heart, 
 and infpcfts the Biafs and fecret Motions 
 of the Soul, cannot be impos'd on, but 
 will pafs a contrary Sentence, and con- 
 demn the Infincerity of thefe pretended 
 Vertues. 
 
 Mfil 
 
 : oi o3r>ST;-j soft''* 'diiy ! % < >?- 
 w --
 
 FALSE VERTUE, 
 
 Of the Defire of Glory that mofl re- 
 Jemttes TRUE VERTUE. 
 
 T3UT there is yet another Pafllon that 
 " approaches nearer to the eflential Idea 
 of Moral Goodnefs, and is therefore with 
 greater Difficulty diftinguifh'd from it, I 
 mean, the Love of Fame ; which has here 
 and there been touch'd upon in fome of the 
 foregoing Inftances of F A L s E VE K T u E, 
 and fhall here be feparately fet in a fuller 
 Light. The Defire of Glory, that is to 
 be highly efteem'd by others and fpoken 
 of with Honour, has been look'd upon 
 and recommended by the beft Heathen 
 Moralifts, as the Inftincl: of a great and 
 generous Mind, and a Mark of Sublime 
 and Heroick Merit in Perfons of every 
 Denomination; and not a few Chriftians 
 feem to agree in this Sentiment. But if 
 Applaufe and a great Name are valu'd 
 and purfu'd for their own fakes, and not 
 as a Means fubfcrvient to fome nobler End, 
 whatever Encomiums have been given to 
 this PaiTion, it cannot be admitted to the 
 Rank of vertuous Qualities. To illuilrate 
 this, I fliall crave leave to tranfcribe from 
 a Writing, which I believe has fallen into 
 few Hands, a fhort Difcourfe, tho perhaps 
 S too
 
 
 An, Ess .. 
 
 too long for this place, that feL'ms very 
 pertinent to rny Subjeft. 
 
 ; \s*\\>/i. ^>^RbG 
 4 FA M^. which is the Opinion the 
 4 World expreiles of any Man's excellent 
 4 Endowments, is the Idol to which the 
 
 * Hneft Spirits have, in all Ages, burnt 
 'their Incenfe ; and the more generous 
 4 and elevated any Genius is, the more ve- 
 '. -hement is his Thirft, and the more eager 
 c are his Purfuits after this alluring Ob- 
 4 ieci. Whatever Power is invok'd, this 
 '_ is the real one that infpires the Poet, 
 
 * flocks his Imagination with beautiful 
 *. Ideas, and kindles in his Breaft the Di- 
 4 vine Rapture. This glorious Prize at 
 f once dazzles and animates the Warrior ; 
 *V'tis the Applaufe, the Triumph, the Plea* 
 
 * ,iure of being deafen'd with Acclamati- 
 Vons, and diiHnguifh'd and pointed at by 
 4 the People, that makes him. fo patient 
 4 of Toil, and puilies him amidft a thou- 
 
 * fand Dangers. As the powerful Inftincls 
 
 * of Renown excite an ambitious Monarch 
 4 to repeat his Conquefts and enlarge his 
 fc Empire, fo they raife up Heroes to op- 
 4 pofe his Arms and check his Encroach- 
 
 ments. Thus from the fame Spring and 
 
 '.Principle of Adion, Nations are 
 
 4 times enflav'd, and fometimes deliver'd, 

 
 FAXSE VERTUE. a6'3 
 
 * T H i s warms the Patriot with Zeal, 
 and makes him think he is only ferving 
 his Country, while he is pleafing him- 
 felf with Purfuits of Popularity. This 
 fmooths the Tongue of the Senator, and 
 makes it flow with Eloquence ; and it 
 were to be wifh'd that none of the ve- 
 nerable Men, who difpence from the 
 Pulpit Divine Inftruft ion, had their Lips 
 touch'd by a Coal from this foreign Al- 
 tar. Man is naturally a proud Animal, 
 and is fond of nothing more than the 
 Breath of Fame to footh his Vanity, and 
 flatter his Self- Admiration. 
 
 * T H o moft of the celebrated Authors 
 among the Ancients wrote by the Im- 
 pulfe of Vain-Glory, and Praife was the 
 chief Reward they panted after; yet 
 none fo frankly own this Paflion to be 
 the Principle that infpir'd them, as Ho- 
 rAce and Cicero. What Exultation and 
 Rapture does the former exprefs upon 
 the Profpeft: of imaginary Immortality ? 
 How has fully blemiOVd his Character 
 and obfcur'd his excellent Qualities by 
 Self-Admiration, and an open acknow- 
 ledgment, that he look'd on Praife and 
 Honour as the chief Reward of Vertue 
 and of Illuftrious Actions? I blufh for 
 
 S { this
 
 Es s AY upon 
 4 this great Man, as oft as I read the in- 
 4 temperate Expreflions of his Thirft of 
 4 Glory, which fo frequently difhonour his 
 
 * admirable Writings. 
 
 4 'Tis furprizing and painful to think, 
 4 that a Perfon of his extraordinary Fa- 
 
 * culties, Learning, and Wit, fhould befo 
 4 extravagantly tranfported with this Paf- 
 4 fion. When he fpoke his Inve&ive a- 
 4 gainft Anthony, who would have thought 
 4 he was only flattering himfelf, and pro- 
 4 nouncing a Panegyrick upon his own 
 
 * Eloquence and Zeal for his Country? 
 4 That when he defended Rofciu*, he took 
 4 upon him a Theatrical Perfon, as much 
 
 as his Client had ever Hone, and only 
 afted the Friend in great Perfection ; and 
 that when he accus'd C At dine ^ he only 
 applauded the vigilant Conful, magni- 
 fy'd the Patriot, and entertain'd theSe- 
 4 nate with his own Praife ? And yet 'tis 
 
 * evident, that fuch was his infatiable De- 
 4 fire of Applaufe, that whether he arTum'd 
 4 the Chaia&er of a Patriot, or an Orator, 
 whether he arraign'd the Criminal, or 
 
 * vindicated the Innocent, he had always 
 
 * the fame thing in view, and intended 
 4 chiefly, by various Means, to procure 
 
 * Glory to himfelf,
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 265 
 
 ( A WR i T E R in love with himfelf, is 
 fo puff'd up with Commendation and 
 Popularity, that the Mifer does not en- 
 joy more Satisfaction in furveying his 
 Heaps of Treafure, than the Author, 
 who ecchoes to himfelf the Encomiums 
 of the People, gives into the general 
 Opinion of his own Merit, and approves 
 the Tafte and Judgment of his Admirers: 
 Hence he draws, in his Imagination, his 
 own Pifture, with fuch amiable Fea- 
 tures, and fets it off with fuch beautiful 
 Colours, that he is ravifh'd with the 
 Reflexion ; and no Sycophant can footh 
 anafpiring Prince with more artfulTouch- 
 es of Adulation, than thbfe with which 
 an Author feeds his own Vanity, no 
 Man being fo hearty and finifh'd a Flat- 
 terer, as he that is making his Court to 
 himfelf. 
 
 * NOR is the Merit of a great Warri- 
 or in the Purfuit of Glory, unlike to 
 that of a Self-admiring Author : Fame, 
 however thin and airy, is the Food of 
 great Minds, that are not endow'd with 
 a more fublime and generous Principle, 
 and to the Defire of this inferior Immor- 
 tality, however empty and imaginary, 
 are owing, for the moft part, the At- 
 * ' chieve*
 
 266 An ESSAY upon 
 
 * chievements of Heroes and Patriots : 
 
 * Thefe flatter themfelves, that after Death 
 
 < they toll live by the Breath of Fame, 
 4 and be carry'd up and down the World 
 4 like the airy Phantoms and Apparitions 
 4 of Epicurus. It is true, in this they con- 
 c fefs the Belief of a Future State ; for it 
 
 < cannot be imagm'd why they (hould de* 
 4 fire to be fpoken of with Honour, after 
 
 * their Deceafe, if they did not believe 
 ' they {hould exift and enjoy the Enco- 
 
 * miums beftow'd by Pofterity on their 
 
 < Names; yet this will not deferve the 
 'Appellation of Vertue : For if the fine 
 Writer or brave Warrior terminate all 
 their Views upon themfelves ; if the Au- 
 thor only contemplates the bright E- 
 manations of his Mind as reflected and 
 coming back to himfelf in Glory and 
 Praife, and the Soldier takes the Field 
 and performs Wonders, chiefly for Lau- 
 rels and Admiration, tho this approaches 
 the neareft to true Merit of any thing 
 that is fhort of it, yet their Adions 
 fpringing from a wrong Principle, and 
 being directed to an unwarrantable End, 
 are but fplendid Illufions and Faults, 
 difguis'd under the beautiful Appearance 
 of Vertue. 
 
 IT
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 267 
 
 * IT is the incommunicable Preroga- 
 tive of the fupream Being, to fearch the 
 fecret Thoughts and difcern the Bent and 
 Inclination of the Mind, and therefore 
 no Man hy immediate Infpeclion into 
 the Recefles of the Soul, can charge up- 
 on another the Guilt of acting upon the 
 Principle of Vain-Glory ; but there is 
 one diftinguifhing Mark that difcovers 
 this irregular Spring to one's felf, and 
 4 to others, and that is, if the Hero or 
 4 Patriot, the Philofopher or Poet, \vho 
 1 pretend to the good of their City, their 
 c Country, and of Mankind, fhould, in 
 4 other In (lances, exprefs a Contempt of 
 1 Moral Obligations, and become Pra&ifers 
 4 of Vice and Patrons of Impiety; 'tis 
 
 * impoflible fuch Men fhould be govern'd 
 4 by a genuine Principle of Vertue, which 
 4 never fails to produce an equal and uni- 
 i form Series of good and generous Actions. 
 
 4 THESE Reflections cannot but ele- 
 
 * vate our Conceptions, and engage the 
 ( Mind in the Contemplation of the ad- 
 4 mirabie Conduct of Providence, which 
 4 makes ufe of culpable Paflions and ir- 
 
 ' regular Principles, fubftituted by Men* 
 4 in the place of fincere Merit, to bring a- 
 ; bout Ends Qf the greateft Importance 
 t * and
 
 o68 An ESSAY ufm 
 
 and Benefit to Mankind. If no great or 
 illuftrieus A&ions, in which the com- 
 mon Good and the Happinefs of Socie- 
 ties are concern'd, were to be perform'd 
 by any but difinterefted Men, who at 
 from a Motive of real Vertue ; how 
 often would States and Kingdoms be in- 
 volv'd in Confufion and Ruin, while no 
 Warriors would be found to defend, 
 nor Statefmen to direft and rule them. 
 But when Principles of Vertue are want- 
 ing, as apparently they are in the Mafs 
 < of Mankind, the Defire of Popularity 
 
 * and Falfe Glory, by the wife Admini- 
 
 * ftration of the Moderator of the World, 
 4 in a great Meafure fupplies their Ab- 
 
 * fence," 
 
 ?.iV ;7f3J'j. : nt i ??;&r-ra 
 
 A clofer Enquiry into the 'Diftmclion of 
 TRUE and FALSE VERTUE. 
 
 T T is very defirable that Men fhould be 
 fully inform'd in a Cafe of fuch Con- 
 fequence as this ; for while the greateft 
 part of the People think they are already 
 Men of Vertue, it is no wonder they be- 
 lieve they need no Reformation. But were 
 this Confufion and Obfcurity of their Ideas 
 remov'd, and the Diftinftion of a Good 
 and Bad Man fet in a clear Light before 
 
 them.
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 269 
 
 them, they would foon difcern their want of 
 Piety and Goodnefs, as faid before, and the 
 next Step would be to feek after thefe Di- 
 vine Endowments, on which their Peace and 
 Satisfa&ion in this World, and their Hap- 
 pinefs in the next do abfolutely depend. 
 
 THIS being a Point of the greateft 
 Importance, I will enter yet farther into the 
 Difcufllon of it. Since no Men in this State 
 of Mortality are fo compleatly wicked as 
 to be intirely unconfcious ofRemorfefrom 
 Guilt, and free from all Efteem and Love 
 of Vertue ; and none arrive at that per- 
 fection in Piety of Mind and Purity of 
 Manners, as to have no Blemifh from 
 the leaft Mixture of Evil : it is evident, 
 that the Moral Difference, by which 
 Mankind is efTentially divided into the 
 two Species Good and Bad, muft refult 
 from the fuperior Degree of Vertue and 
 Vice in the Minds of either fort. As good 
 or evil Habits are predominant in the 
 Heart and Life, they denominate and di- 
 ftinguifh a vertuous or a wicked Man. 
 But in this Cafe there is reafon to believe, 
 that great Numbers are guilty of a fatal 
 Miftake, while they conclude themfelves 
 good Men, becaufe upon the Comparifon 
 they find that their Vertues are fuperior 
 to their Vices, and that more good than 
 
 bad
 
 An ESSAY tofm 
 
 bad A&ions appear in their Lives. Thus 
 one Man notwithftanding his fordid Ava-* 
 rice, believes himfelf a Man of Vertue, be- 
 caufe he is juft, fober, and regular in the 
 Government of his Pa (Rons and Appetites: 
 Another is as well fatisfy'd with his Good- 
 nefs, who, tho he is loofe in his Behavi- 
 our, intemperate, and profane, yet he is 
 liberal, generous, a Man of Honour, and 
 a great Lover of his Country. 
 
 SINCE every Man by his native Com* 
 plexion, by Cuftom or Intereft, is more 
 powerfully fway'd by fome vicious Habits 
 and Inclinations, than by others, and is 
 therefore lefs able to refift Temptations, 
 that aiidrefs themfelves to thofe predomi- 
 nant Propenfions, the juft and impartial 
 Trial of any Man's Integrity will be to ex- 
 amine and weigh whether the Degrees of* 
 his Vertue are evidently more prevalent 
 than thofe of the opposite Vice to which 
 he is moft inclin'd. For Inftance ; if a 
 Man is prone by Nature or Cuftoin to 
 Intemperance or other forbidden PleafureSj 
 to difcover his moral Goodnefs, he is not 
 to fet his Liberality, Charity, Humanity, 
 Patience, and other laudable Qualities a- 
 gainft his Intemperance, and conclude, 
 that by his pofleflion of fo many Vertues 
 while he is blernifh'd but with one Fault, 
 
 he
 
 FA LSE ! VIRTUE. 
 
 he is from the predominancy of good Ha- 
 hits to be denominated a good Man ; nor 
 fhould a covetous Perfon weigh his Humili- 
 ty, Veracity, and Sobriety of Manners a- 
 gainft his Avarice, and then decide the 
 Queftion in his own Favour, and pronounce 
 himfeif innocent becaufe- he has many emi- 
 nent Vertues and but one Vice ; but the 
 Perfon often overcome by Temptations t 
 excefs in Wine, or other unlawful Pleafures, 
 mull compare the Degree of his Tempe- 
 rance and Chaftity with thofeof the con- 
 trary Vices, and if he has reafon to infer 
 from his frequent criminal Compliances) 
 that his vicious Propenfions are the ftrong- 
 eir, and that therefore he muft be pro- 
 nounc'd an impure or intemperate Perfon, 
 this Man is from that fingle prevalent Ha- 
 bit to be judg'd a flagitious and wicked 
 Perfon, notwithstanding his fpecious Pre- 
 tences to Vertues of another kind, which 
 are all demonftrated to be falfe and coun* 
 terfeit by the predominant Power of any 
 one Vice, as faid before ; fo if a Man by 
 a diligent and ftricb Examination fhouicl 
 difcover that his Love of Mony is fo inor- 
 dinate and infatiable, that he mull needs 
 merit the Appellation of Avaricious, what- 
 ever other fhining Qualities he may -pofleis, 
 they are no better than fp lend id Vices, and 
 from the fuperiority of Jiis covetous Habit 
 
 he
 
 17- Aft ESSAY ufon 
 he muft be pronounced, what certainly he is, 
 an ill Man : and this Rule is inviolably true 
 in all other Inftances of the like Nature. 
 When a Man enters upon an Examination of 
 his Integrity he fhould know, that if the Su- 
 periority of his Vertue is but in a low and 
 weak Degree \ if he often breaks his good 
 Refolutions, complies with Temptations, 
 and relapfes into Guilt, he will not be able to 
 determine his Condition, or conclude on 
 which Side the Ballance defcends ; and 
 notwithftanding his Goodnefs fliould be 
 predominant, yet while it is unevident to 
 him that it is fo, he will reap no Satif- 
 faftion from his Reflections on it, but muft 
 be often obnoxious to frightful Apprehen- 
 fions, and live in a doubtful, uncomfort- 
 able State. 
 
 insjjiy/ .fri-. euo^iii/j L'^jbuf ^ .iJ 
 IT will be poflible only to thofe more 
 excellent Minds, that in an eminent Mea- 
 fure have learn'd to conquer all evil Pro- 
 penfions, govern their Paflions, and fub- 
 due their inordinate Appetites, that per- 
 fevere with Conftancy in an uninterrupted 
 Practice of Vertue and Devotion, to re- 
 view their Lives with Pleafure and Satif- 
 faftion, and to difcern the Superiority of 
 their Vertue, and, in that their Title to 
 future Happinefs. 
 
 IF
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 173 
 
 I F therefore any Man would know, and 
 who would continue ignorant and uncon- 
 cern'd in a Matter that fo nearly con- 
 cerns him, to what Divifion of Men he 
 belongs, the Juft or the Unjuft, and con* 
 fequently what he muft expeft in the next 
 Life, eternal Mifery or unutterable Blifs; 
 let him ftri&ly obferve the Courfe of his 
 Life, and fearch his Heart to the bottom, 
 and when he finds he has made a fuc- 
 cefsful Oppofition to that particular crimi- 
 nal Inclination which he is moil apt to 
 gratify ; and tho by Surprize and Violence 
 of Temptation in unguarded Seafons, he 
 is fometimes guilty of Compliances, yet that 
 this rarely happens ; while for the gene- 
 ral Courfe and Tenor of his Actions he 
 lives a vertuous and innocent Life, denies 
 his moft favour'd forbidden Pleafures, go- 
 verns his Padions and reftrains his Appe- 
 tites, he may come to a determination of 
 his Condition, and reft fatisfy'd that he is 
 a Man of Vertue. 
 
 IT muft here be obferv'd, that Vertue 
 which is fo denominated from the Supe- 
 riority of its Degree, that over-bal lances 
 the contrary Vice, in which its EfTence 
 does confift, is not fuch in a ft rift Philo- 
 ibphical Senfe ; but it is fuch as is rcquirM 
 T by
 
 274 An ESSAY upon 
 by the Chriftianlnftitution to denominate 
 a Man Upright and Righteous, and to 
 qualify him for the Divine Favour and Ac- 
 ceptance ; and this is frequently call'd In* 
 tegrity and Sincerity of Heart, which o- 
 ver- powers the Oppofition of every Vice, 
 tho it never intirely fubdues it. It is 
 therefore certain, that when a Man would 
 know himfelf, he muft not believe that 
 he is a good Man, merely bscaufe he is 
 confcious to himfelf that he is fmcere and 
 in good earneft in his Refolutions and 
 many vertuous Actions ; for tho thofe Re- 
 folutions and Actions are real, yet if they 
 are oppos'd and overcome by contrary In- 
 clinations, which have a greater Intereft 
 in his Heart and Power in his Life, they 
 are but falfe Vertues, not having attain'd 
 that Superiority of Degree that constitutes 
 the Being of Vertue in a Chriftian Senfe. 
 Hence when many good Men queftion their 
 Sincerity, and are afraid they are Hypo- 
 crites they mean they are in doubt, whe- 
 ther they have attained a prevailing Habit 
 of Piety, for all Degrees under that they 
 efteem Infincerity and Hypocrify ; becaufe 
 they are not fufficient to denominate a good 
 Man, or give a Title to Future Happmefs ; 
 tho in the mean time they are fatisfy'd they 
 have fome inferior Degrees of Vertue, 
 which they know are fincere, that is, real, 
 
 tho
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 1^5 
 
 tho fruitlefs and ineffectual to the PurpofeS 
 before-mention'd. 
 
 IT is cuftomary for Men, when they 
 fpeak of others, to exprefs themfelves in 
 this manner; Such a Perfon is a ftrangc 
 Mixture, a Man of Pleafure, and too 
 much addicted to Wine and good Compa-s 
 ny ; but he has abundance of excellent 
 Qualities to over-ballance his Faults, and I 
 cannot but look upon him as a very good 
 Man. But this is a deftruftive Delufion, 
 and the Error will be foon detected, if we 
 reflect, that the Superiority of Vertue and 
 Vice, that conftitut.es the Good or Bad 
 Man, does not arife from the Inequality 
 in Number of their Good or Evil Quali- 
 ties, for then there would be no Scarcity 
 of good Men in the World. It has been 
 demonftrated above, that one prevailing 
 and predominant evil Habit is fufficient 
 to denominate an ill Man, tho we fhould 
 fuppofe him to be in all other refpeb Jfuft 
 and Innocent. When we would therefore 
 enter upon an impartial and fevere Trial 
 of our (elves, that we may determine to 
 which Clafs of Men we belong, the Cal- 
 culation by which we are to be guided j 
 mu ft not be between our good and bad 
 Habits and Actions of a different Kind ; 
 nor muft the Scales be caft by the greater 
 T 2 Nurn-
 
 176 An ESSAY ufm 
 
 Number of either fort, for then perhaps 
 a common Liar, a Swearer, a Drunkard, 
 or Betrayer of his Country, might claim 
 the Appellation of a Man of Probity ; but 
 the Decifion muft arife from a Comparifon 
 of a Man's ftrongeft vicious Habits, and 
 the contrary vertuous Inclinations, as be- 
 fore has been obferv'd. 
 
 1 1 Perfons would converfe with them- 
 ieives, and obferve with Attention the Mo- 
 tions of their Hearts, and the Entertain- 
 ments of their Imaginations, the greateft 
 Part might foon difcover what it fo much 
 concerns them to know, whether they are 
 good or bad Men. It it clear, that ac- 
 cording to the natural Method oftheSouPs 
 exerting her Powers, that Object which is 
 moft yalu'd, and therefore has the greateft 
 Intereft in the Mind, mull excite the 
 ftrongeft Defires and engage the moft ar- 
 dent Love ; whence it will ncceflarily fol- 
 low, that the Object that attracts the Soul 
 with a fuperior Force, muft begin and guide 
 her Motions to gain the Poffeflion of it : 
 What we chiefly efteem for its Goodnefs, 
 we chiefly dcfire to enjoy, and what we 
 chiefly defire to enjoy, from an invincible 
 Impulfe we endeavour to attain, by all the 
 probable Means in our Power; and du- 
 ring this Attempt to acquire the principal 
 * Idol
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 277 
 
 Idol of our Hearts, we fufpend the Pur- 
 fuits after thofe Satisfactions that have but 
 an inferior Share of our Efteem and Af- 
 feftion, or at leaft we do not follow them 
 with the fame Diligence and Ardor; and 
 this is the eftablifh'd and unalterable Order 
 of the Operations of the Mind, founded in 
 the original Conftitution of our Faculties. 
 
 UPON this Reflection it fhould nor, me- 
 thinks, be difficult to find out what Ob 
 jects principally attract the Soul, kindle 
 her Defires, and govern her active Powers. 
 Whatever appears to the Mind moft lovely 
 and defirable, muft unavoidably influence 
 and engage the Will with the greateft Force ; 
 and what has the fuperior PolTeflion of the 
 Will, is therefore moft earneftly purfu'd. 
 Now thefe Tranfactions cannot pals fo fe- 
 cretly in the Mind, but the Perfon muft be 
 confcious of them, and cannot but be fenfi- 
 ble, what it is that he chiefly values, defires, 
 and ftrives to enjoy. And therefore if any 
 Man will reflect with Attention on the Ope- 
 rations of his Mind, he cannot avoid per- 
 ceiving the principal Objeft of his Affections, 
 fince he muft certainly feel the ftrongeft E- 
 motions and Inclinations of his own Hearc. 
 
 To be more particular; fince no Ob- 
 jects can move the Will and excite De- 
 T 3 fire,
 
 An ESSAY upw 
 
 fire, but thofe that are reprefentcd by the 
 Underftanding under an amiable Idea, it 
 is very evident, that as what we make our 
 ftrft and principal Choice mutt be fo re-r 
 preferred in the intellectual Faculties, to 
 attract our Wills and command our Af- 
 fection at the firft, fo, to preferve and to 
 perpetuate its Superiority in our Efteem 
 and Love, that amiable Idea muft con. 
 ftantly abide in our Minds ; and fince in 
 this Cafe, there muft concur various Acti- 
 ons of the Soul, which mud confider, bal- 
 iance, compare, determine, and at laft 
 chufe the propereft Means for the Attain- 
 ment of it, it is very plain, that the Ima- 
 gination and Faculty of Thinking muft of 
 Neceflity be more employ'd about this 
 Object, than upon any others of inferior 
 Confideration. 
 
 TH is being premis'd, whoever would 
 cMfcover whether Vertue or Vice has the 
 chief PofTeflion of his Soul, and to what 
 Enjoyments, whether Criminal or Inno- 
 cent, the Bent and ftrongeft Propenfions of 
 his Heart carry him, he will be able to 
 decide the Doubt, by obferving what 
 Things principally engage his Thoughts 
 and dwell in his Imagination, and what 
 Ideas meet with the belt Reception and 
 arford moft Delight, remain longeft there, 
 
 and
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 279 
 
 and return the fooneft. Can it be fuppos'd 
 that a Libertine willfeldonf think of Scenes 
 of Pleafure and forbiddden Enjoyments; 
 that an ambitious and afpiring Perfon will 
 difmifs the Thoughts of Power and Great- 
 nefs, or the Avaricious fill their Minds with 
 all other Images, excepting thofe of Wealth 
 and great Poffeflions? No more is it pof- 
 fible for a Man ot Vertue, who chufes as 
 his principal End the Fruition of the Di- 
 vine Being, in a State of perfect Purity 
 and immortal Blifs, to divert his Imagi- 
 nation from dwell.ng upon that ineffable 
 Felicity, and the vertuous Means of pro- 
 curing the Pofleflion of it. It is incon- 
 fiftent with Reafon and the Nature and 
 Order of the Soul's Operations, that he 
 fhould aim at, and purfue the Enjoyment 
 of his Creator in Heaven as his greateft 
 Happinefs, while at the fame time neither 
 God nor Heaven are in all his Thoughts, 
 or at the leaft are feldom and coldly con- 
 fider'd. The habitual Difpofition and Bi- 
 ais of the Will, like a native Inftincl, car- 
 ries a good Man to Celeftial Objects, and 
 engages him in the Contemplation of his 
 future Perfection and Felicity. If his 
 Thoughts are left to themfelves by a fpon- 
 taneous Principle, they move to Heaven 
 and adhere to fuperior Objects ; and if his 
 Mind is in a State of Compreffion, and 
 T 4 engag'd
 
 2$o An ESSAY upon 
 engag'd by Force in the low Affairs of this 
 Life, when that Violence is remov'd, it 
 recovers by its own inward Spring its Di- 
 vine Temper, and rifes with Delight to 
 the things Above : Neither the Ambitious, 
 nor Covetous, nor Men of voluptuous Dif- 
 pofition, ufe any Arguments and Perfuafi- 
 ons to prevail upon themfelves to confider 
 the amiable Nature of Power, Riches, and 
 Pleafure, to entertain tbefe Objects in their 
 Minds, or to deliberate on the Means of 
 acquiring the Enjoyment cf them. In the 
 fame manner, when Piety has the greateffc 
 Power and Intereft in the Will, it will as 
 certainly engage the Mind in the Contem- 
 plation of Divine Things, and in conftant 
 Afts of Piety and Devotion : where a 
 Man's Treafure is, there will his Heart be 
 alfo ; and if it be Above,, thither will his 
 Inclinations, his Defires and Thoughts fol- 
 low it. He will dwell with Pleafure, like 
 a Merchant in a foreign Realm, on the 
 Thoughts of his native Country, antici- 
 pate the Raptures of happy Minds, and by 
 the Fore-taftes of his expected Felicity, 
 fwceten and augment his prefent Enjoy- 
 ments, as well as folace and mitigate his 
 prefent Sufferings. 
 
 Of
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 281 
 
 Of VERTUE irifng from Fear of 
 Punilhment. 
 
 H E Minds of many Perfons of a fo- 
 ber and regular Life have been much 
 difquieted, when upon Examination of their 
 Hearts and Aftions it has appear'd to 
 fhem, that they have often paid Obedience 
 to the Divine Laws from Motives of Fear 
 and Apprehenfion of Punilhment ; for it 
 is their Opinion, that genuine Piety can- 
 not refult from fuch a mean and ungene- 
 rous Principle, and therefore hang in per- 
 plexing Doubt, whether their Vertue is 
 fincere and will abide the Teft. They 
 believe, that Piety ought to be efteem'd 
 and embrac'd for its own heavenly Charms 
 and beat! tick Qualities ; That a true Lover 
 of Vertue purfues it for its intrinfick Beau- 
 ty and amiable Nature, and does not court 
 it under foreign and mercenary Confide- 
 rations. But this Opinion is founded in a 
 Miftake of the Nature of Man, and the 
 Moral Government of the Supream Being. 
 Man is conftituted with fuch intellectual 
 Faculties, as make it neceffary to move 
 him to Obedience by the Objects of Hope 
 and Fear, otherwife thofe Paflions had been 
 in vain implanted in his Soul ; and as God 
 
 has
 
 2 8 1 j4n ESSAY upon 
 has made the Mind of Man capable of 
 being influenc'd by Menaces and Promifes, 
 fo to procure Submiflion to his Laws he 
 enforces them with the Sanctions of the 
 higheft Rewards and the greateft Suffer- 
 ings. In the fame manner that Parents 
 rule their Children, Matters their Servants, 
 and Princes their Subjects, does God go- 
 vern the intelligent World. What more 
 dreadful Punifhments can be threatened to 
 deter Men from Difobedience, than thofe 
 denouncM in the Sacred Writings. Bj the 
 Terrors of the Lord, fays the great Apo- 
 ftle, we perfuade Men. But certainly thofe 
 terrible Threats had been ufelefs, were they 
 not defign'd to ad on human Fears ; and 
 ^herefore that Obedience muft be approv'd 
 in Heaven, that fprings at firft from this 
 Source. 
 
 I ACKNOWLEDGE it is a more fublime 
 and refin'd Principle of Piety, by which 
 a Creature endow'd with Reafon loves, 
 admires, and adores the Supream Being 
 for his efTential Goodnefs, and abfolute Per- 
 fections, and that thofe are mov'd by a 
 more generous and excellent Spring, who 
 embrace Vertue from its own attractive 
 Beauty and intrinfickExcellence,without an 
 Eye to other Motives. But this pure and 
 exalted Piety is perhaps only to be attain'd in
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 183. 
 
 a Future State of Happinefs, where perfect 
 Love cafts out Fear : For tho fome ele- 
 vated Minds may make near approaches to 
 it in this Life, yet I cannot think that thcfe 
 are entirely excited by the native Charms 
 of Vertue, and acl without any Impulfe 
 of Hopes and Fears, and regard to Reward 
 and Punifhment. However, the moft emi? 
 nent Vertue of the beft of Men in this 
 State of Mortality, is only rais'd to a fu- 
 perior Degree, and differs not in Kind from 
 that of others, who are chiefly governed 
 by the inftin&s of Fear and Hops. Men 
 at firft engage in the Practice of Vertue, 
 to avoid the terrible Confequences of a 
 bad Life, and this is a jult and laudable 
 Principle ; tho after long Practice and con- 
 tinuM Diligence, they acquire confirm'd 
 Habits of Goodnefs, tafte the Sweetnefs 
 and PJeafure of Vertue, and begin to love 
 it for its own moral Beauty and agree- 
 able Nature ; and then they aft much 
 more from regard to the fupream Being 
 and a filial Obedience to his Authority, 
 than from Fear of PuniQiment. In this 
 more vigorous and adult State of Good- 
 nefs, when evil Inclinations, tho not ex- 
 tirpated, yet are fo far fubdu'd, that they 
 now can make but a feeble Oppofition, 
 the Practice of Vertue becomes habitual, 
 eafy, and natural, and is carry'd on to 
 
 greater
 
 284 An ESSAY upon 
 
 greater Perfection ; not fo much from a 
 Principle of Fear, as from its conformity 
 and fuitable Nature to the regular and weli- 
 difpos'd Faculties of a good Mind. 
 
 ALL Propenfions and Habits of the 
 fame Degree, tho of a contrary Nature, 
 carry the Soul with equal Force to their 
 proper Objects; and therefore, as Liber- 
 tines want no Arguments to perfuade them 
 to gratify their vicious Inclinations with 
 fenfual Enjoyments, fo neither would the 
 Vertuous, if their Habits were equal, re- 
 quire any Motives or vehement Intreaties 
 to do good Actions, and engage them in 
 Works of Piety and Devotion. It would 
 be idle and impertinent to ufe Reafons to 
 prevail with hungry and thirfty Perfons, 
 to accept of Food and refrefhing Liquors, 
 with a weary Labourer to enjoy Repofe, 
 or a fetter'd Prifoner to receive Liberty. 
 In the fame manner were vertuous Difpo- 
 fitions thoroughly confirmed and predo- 
 minant in a high Degree, their Operati- 
 ons would be Spontaneous and eafy, and 
 the Inftin&s of the Mind would exert 
 themfelves in good A&ions, without any 
 other Motive than the Pleafure and Satif- 
 faftion of doing well, with the fame Readi- 
 neis and Force as the evil Propenfions of 
 others incline them to forbidden Objects. 
 
 IT
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 185 
 
 IT is true, as I have faid, this is the 
 Felicity and Perfection but of a few excel- 
 lent Minds, for the greateft part of good 
 Men are in a much inferior State : Their 
 Habits of Vertue are fo weak and uncon* 
 iirm'd, that they want Vigilance, Mortifi- 
 tion, and Self-Denial, as well as the lively 
 Apprehenfions of the Divine Difpleafure 
 that attends criminal Actions, to prevail 
 with them to continue in the Practice of 
 Vertue : whence it appears, that Faftings 
 and bodily Aufterities, that fome imagine 
 are the Expreflions of the higheft Degrees 
 of Piety, muft be contented with the lowed 
 Rank ; for were the vertuous Inclinations 
 of Men fo powerful and confirm'd as to 
 become natural, thofe Severities would be 
 unneceflary : For 'tis an evident Argu- 
 ment, that their fenfual Appetites and vi- 
 cious Difpofitions muft be ftrong, when 
 fuch Hardfhips and Mortifications are re- 
 quir'd to reftrain them. I would not be 
 underftood as if I condemn'd thefe Ex- 
 preflions of Self-Denial ; I only aflert, that 
 the Vertue which requires their Afliftance, 
 is generally that of Perfons new enter'd 
 upon a religious Life ; for when Vertue is 
 full grown and eftablifh'd in the Mind, 
 it becomes a new Nature, and draws it 
 in proportion with as forceable a Biafs to 
 
 Good.
 
 ESSAY 
 
 Good, as it did before to Evil : Nor would 
 I be fo underftood; as if I did not look 
 on the Vertue of thofe to be fincere, who' 
 ufe fuch Affiftance and frequently confider 
 the terrible Confequences of Guilt to de- 
 ter them from it; but this is what I af- 
 fert, that the higheft and ftrongeft Habits 
 of Piety do not demand theie Motives 
 and Helps, tho the loweft do. Thofe of 
 the moft inferior Clafs of good Men, ail 
 partly from a regard to the Authority of 
 the Supream Being, and a Love to moral 
 Goodnefs, and partly from Fear of Divine 
 Difpleafure and tbreaten'd Punifhment r 
 but the la ft Motive is the ftrongeft and 
 ftioft prevalent in their Minds ; but as they 
 continue in the Practice of Vertue, and ac- 
 {Juire more powerful Habits by degrees^ 
 they act more from their Love to Vertue 
 and the Pleafure of Obedience, than from 
 the other Principle ; and when their good 
 Habits are more predominant, and they 
 arrive at the higheft State of Perfection at* 
 tainable here, they are ft ill mov'd in a far 
 lefs meafure by terrible Apprehenfions of 
 Suffering for pifobedience. In fborr, to 
 determine their State whether they are 
 good or bad Perfons, Men fliould not be 
 fo folicitous whether they are obedient to 
 the Divine Laws, chiefly from a Principle 
 of Fear, or chiefly from their Love of 
 * Vmuc ;
 
 FALSE VERTUE. aSy 
 
 Vertue; but the important Queftion will 
 be, whether their good Habits and Incli- 
 nations do, upon an impartial Examina- 
 tion, in the general Courfe of their Lives 
 prevail, in every Inftance, over their op- 
 pofite Vices ; for if they do, it is molt cer- 
 tain that their Vertue, tho it is not of the 
 mod eminent degree, yet it is fincere in 
 it* Kind, and will abide the Teft. 
 
 To fum up the laft Article; deprav'd 
 Man is a furprizing Mixture of inconfiflent 
 Ingredients and contrary Principles of Ope- 
 ration, endow'd with Angelick intellectual 
 Faculties, but debased and diftrafted by vici- 
 ous Inclinations and irregular Appetites, 
 which, during his degenerate State, exercife a 
 predominant Power over his Mind, maintain 
 with eafe their Ufurpation, and in a preva- 
 lent Degree govern his Heart and Actions. 
 The Dictates of his natural Light are too 
 faint and dim, and the Authority and Ef- 
 forts of Reafon too feeble to make any 
 confiderable Oppofition. It is true, at Sea- 
 ions the Understanding exerts it felf, and 
 protefts againft his unwarrantable and cri- 
 minal Behaviour, while the Judge within, 
 provok'd by Guilt, ftings the Offender 
 with Tenor and Remorfe; yet thefe 
 Struggles are ineffeftual, Reafon is over- 
 born, Confcience ftifled, and the Tenor of 
 * the
 
 a88 An ESSAY upon 
 
 the Man's Life is vicious and immoraf. 
 And tho fome Men in this State of Depra- 
 vity may, in the Management of worldly 
 Affairs, be juftly applauded for their Wifr 
 dom, Vigilance, and Sagacity ; yet in re- 
 fpeft of Vertue and Vice and the Confe- 
 quences of each, it is plain the Exercife 
 of their Reafon is fufpended, and they may 
 properly be call'd moral Lunaticks. 
 
 I F in fuch unhappy Circumftances rous'd 
 and awaken'd by ibme fharp Affliction, 
 dreadful Apprehenfions of Death and Fu- 
 ture Punifhment, or convincing Difcourfes 
 and importunate Perfuafions, a Man begins 
 to reflect, and upon ferious deliberation, ef- 
 fedually and in good earnell refolves to 
 reform his Life to efcape the frightful Con- 
 fequences of Guilt ; fince a vertuous Frame 
 and Difpofition of Mind, like other Ha- 
 bits, is acquir'd, at leaft improv'd and con- 
 firm'd by great Diligence and repeated 
 Practice, his firft Entrance upon a new 
 Courfe muft be attended with Labour, 
 Trouble, and Self-Denial. And now Fears, 
 Apprehenfion of Divine Difpleafure and 
 Future Sufferings, are neceflary Motives 
 to aid and fupport his unfettled Vertue, 
 and break the Power of evil Propenfions - 9 
 but afterward, the Difficulties, by degrees, 
 abate, and a regular Life becomes lefspain-
 
 FALSE VERTUE. 189 
 
 Ful and uneafy, till at length after Ac- 
 quaintance and Familiarity, Piety grows fo 
 pleafant and delightful, that were it left to 
 his choice, he Would certainly embrace it 
 as the Beauty, Health, Dignity, and Per* 
 fedion of an intelligent Being. I (hall con-* 
 elude this Difcourfe with a Citation frorti 
 Archbifhop Tillotfon, pertinent to this Oc- 
 cafion. 
 
 " TH ER E are two Bridles or Restraints, 
 w which God hath put upon Hurrian Na- 
 " ture, Shame and Fear. Shame is the 
 " weaker, and hath place only in thofe in 
 " whom there are fome Remainders of 
 " Vertue. Fear is the ftrongef , arid works 
 " upon all who love themfelves, and de- 
 " fire their own Prefervation. Therefore 
 " in this degenerate State of Mankind, Fear 
 " is that Paffion which hath the greateft 
 u Power over us, and by which God and 
 " his Laws take the fureft hold of us. 
 <: Our Defire, and love, and Hope, are 
 tc not fo apt to be wrought upon by the 
 " Reprefentation of Vertue, and the Pro- 
 " mifes of Reward and Happinefs, as our 
 " Fear is from the Apprehenfions of Di- 
 a vine Difpleafure ; for tho we have loft, 
 " in a great meafure, the Guft and Relifh 
 " of true Happinefs, yet we ftill retain a 
 " quick Senfe of Pain and Mifery. So 
 U " that
 
 290 An ESSAY, &c. 
 " that Fear relies on a natural Love 6f 
 <* our felves, and is complicated with a 
 " neceflary Defire of our own Preferva- 
 " tion. And therefore Religion ufually 
 " makes its firft Entrance into us by this 
 cc Paflion: Hence, perhaps it is, that So- 
 <c lomon more than once calls, the Fear of 
 " the Lord the Beginning of Wifdom."
 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 IMMORTA LITY 
 
 O F T H E 
 
 SOUL- 
 
 ti* 
 
 AN
 
 a ii T '/.. ( i U 
 
 ( 1 J AT.H O M.M i. 
 

 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 IMMORTALITY 
 
 O F T H E 
 
 SOUL. 
 
 iHIS Mortal Life in its futi 
 Bloom and Vigor, is fo 
 precarious, and in its ut> 
 moft Extent fo fhort and 
 tranfient, that in the Opi- 
 nion of Men of Prudence 
 and Refle&ion, it mighti- 
 ly abates the Value of the moft defirable 
 Enjoyments of this World; and ft is jutf 
 Matter of Aftonifhment, that fince all 
 Men have a perfect AfTurance, that their 
 U State
 
 ESSAY upon the 
 
 State of Exiftence here is fo uncertain, and 
 flies away with fuch Rapidity, that the 
 prefent Satisfactions and Delights, which 
 they muft leave fo foon, and for ever, 
 fhould not fall under greater and more 
 univerfal Contempt. 
 
 ~ "~ ft Y-\ ; r ': 
 
 THE longeft Life is a fugitive and in- 
 confiderable Duration ; but if we abftraft 
 from it thofc Parts, in which we have but 
 a naked, or undelrghtful, or miferable Be- 
 ing, and therefore not; t;q bip vaju'd, upon 
 fach a Calculation, how great muft the 
 Difcompt be ? If we do not reckon the 
 Life of Man to begin till he is in PoflTefli- 
 on of himfelf, and can exercife the Facul- 
 ties and PpwerSvpecuh'ar to his Species, we 
 muft not only cut off the Stage of Infancy 
 and Childhood from it, but like wife that 
 of old Age, which for the greateft part is 
 qply the flat Leavings of Life, decay'd and 
 drawn off to the Lees; when, tho the 
 Animal furvives, the Man does fcarcely 
 exift. And yet by how many other ways 
 is our fhprt Time contracted ? Acute Pains, 
 languifhing Sicknefs, and wafting Lab.our, 
 befides tormenting Envy and anxious Care, 
 uneafy Malice, and exquifite Grief, the- 
 violent Perturbations and Tempefts of the 
 Soul arifing from a thoufand various Caufes, 
 by the numerous Gaps and Breaks which 
 
 they
 
 IMMORTALITY of the SOUL. 195 
 
 they make in Life, reduce its Duration to 
 very fcanty Limits. Add to thefe Refts 
 and Interruptions, the necefTary Returns of 
 Sleep, which fufpends the Exercife of our 
 intellectual and fenfitive Faculties ; and it 
 will appear, that all together they defraud 
 us of two Thirds of our Time : If thefe 
 Allowances are made, and the Accompt is 
 juftly ftated, what a mean Ballance will 
 remain, as the Claim of Life, if taken in 
 the View before defcrib'd ? 
 
 So fhort is the Extent of pur prefent 
 Exiftence, if confider'd in an abfolure Senfe ; 
 but how momentary will it feem when 
 compar'd with Ages that never end ? What 
 is this Span of Life, when we reflect upon 
 interminable Duration ? What is Time 
 but a little Rill, or Drop, compar'd with 
 the boundlefs Ocean of Eternity ? 
 
 As this Terreflrial Globe is reduc'd to 
 a defpicable Spot, when we contemplate 
 the immenfe Body of the Sun ; and as the 
 Sun it felt looies his Magnitude, and is no 
 more than a glowing Atom, when we 
 ^onfider the amazing Circumference of the 
 Univerfe ; fo the whole Syftem of the Uni- 
 verfe is contracted to the minuteft Size, 
 if fet in competition with the Gulphs of 
 Snace that lie beyond it, and the unlimited 
 U 4 Heights
 
 ESSAY ufm the 
 
 -Heights and Depths, and ftill increafing 
 Lengths and Breadths of vaft Immenfity. 
 In like manner, fhould the Life of Man 
 continue many Ages, even as long as the 
 Sun and Moon endure; yet when mea- 
 fu/d with Immortality, it would fhrink 
 t& an unextended Point. What is Man 
 but the Tenant of a Mould of Clay, en- 
 dow'd indeed with A ngelick Faculties, but 
 a perifhing Wight and an Infect in Dura- 
 tion? What is this intelligent Creature, 
 who thus diflblves like the Morning Cloud, 
 and as the Evening Dew vanifhes away ? 
 4nd wha,t is Life, but a tender Flower 
 that unfolds its Beauty and dies in its Bloom, 
 aji empty Vapour of the Air, that as foon 
 as kindled, glances by our Sight, and ex- 
 pires in a fudden Fla(h ? So fhort is the 
 Continuance of Man in this mortal State, 
 if compared with endlrfs Duration. 
 
 IT muft therefore be a Matter of the 
 higheft Importance to make Enquiry, whe- 
 ther by Death the Life of Man is totally 
 extinguifh'd, and the Body complicated 
 with the common Mafs of Matter, never 
 again to be collected and reunited ; or whe- 
 ther it will be continued in different Cir- 
 cumftances, and another Mode of Exift- 
 ance; and tho the Frame of the Body be 
 rjuin'.d, and its Parts diffipated and blended 
 
 with
 
 IMMORTALITY oftbeSovi.. 197 
 
 with the common Mafs of Matter, whether 
 that which we call the Soul or the Mind, 
 fhall furvive in a feparate State, and never 
 know Corruption. 
 
 It the Soul is diflolv'd, and periihes 
 with the Body, and no future Exiftence 
 is to be expected, then the Foundation of 
 all Religion and Obligation to Moral Du- 
 ties, if they are not deftroyM, will be ren- 
 der'd infignificant and ineffectual ; for no 
 Temporal Considerations will reftrain de- 
 generate Mankind from following their vi- 
 cious Inclinations, as if they had an un- 
 limited and arbitrary Power over their 
 Actions. But on the contrary, if it be 
 eftahlifh'd by convincing Evidence, that 
 the Soul is Immortal, and out-lives Death 
 in a State of Separation from the Body, 
 this will naturally lead a prudent and con- 
 federate Man to befpeak himfelf in this 
 manner : Since after this Body is buried 
 in the Grave, I fhall ftill remain in Being, 
 nor will my Exiftence be difcontinued in 
 any Period of Duration, it is of the high- 
 eft* Concern to know, whether I fhall be 
 Happy or Miferable in that Everlafting 
 State. I am a Creature and a Subjeft of the 
 Supream Ruler of the World, and by the 
 rational Faculties with which I am en- 
 dow'd, I can eafily difcern there are many 
 
 natural
 
 298 An ESSAY ufon the 
 
 natural Laws and moral Duties which I 
 am bound to obey ; and that therefore I 
 am 1 an accomptable Being, and fhall be 
 rewarded or puniflh'd, according to my 
 Obfervance, or Contempt of thofe Divine 
 Precepts and Rules of Life; and how ter- 
 rible vyill be the Sentence, fhould I be 
 condemned to endlefs Sufferings and De- 
 ipair ? Would rjot that iMan be look'd on 
 as uncapable of Reflexion and deferted of 
 common Sen fe, who fhould chufe, for the 
 fake of one Hour's Pleafure, to endure un- 
 remitting Torment and Anguifh of Heart, 
 during the whole remainder of his Life ? 
 But how infinitely greater an Inftance of 
 Folly arid Diftralion is it, for the fake of 
 the {hort-liv'd Enjoyments here, to draw 
 upon one's felf Divine Difpleafure and 
 endlefs Mifery hereafter?* 
 ' -no;> unfi JoSfiwicj JR tol vli^-fL'imi liiw t iii 
 
 THIS Point then of the Soul's Immor- 
 tality being of fuch great Confequence, it 
 is no wonder that it has cxercis'd fo many 
 excellent Pens, as well in the Pagan as the 
 ChrilVian World. P/ato, Plutarch, Aw- 
 cenne^ and Nemefius y a re celebrated Authors 
 on this Subject: and fince the Evangelical 
 Revelation has brought Life and Immor- 
 tality to Light, many have writ with great 
 itrength of Reafon on this Article of our 
 Belief, but none with fo much Force and 
 
 Perfpi-
 
 Psrfpicuity, as fome late Writers of our 
 own Nation. 
 
 BUT fmce fo great and important a 
 Doftrine cannot be too much illuftrated 
 and conrirm'd, efpecially when we reflect 
 .on the prefent prevailing Power of Im- 
 piety, which maintains its ground againft 
 the mpft vigorous Aflaults of Reafon, 
 fpreads its Contagion, and makes Profe- 
 lites in defiance of the Religion and the 
 Laws of the Kingdom, I have thought i 
 ufeful and feafonable to publifhthis ESSAY, 
 in which I have endeavour'd to add fome 
 new Arguments, and to give greater Force 
 and Clearnefs to thofe that have been al- 
 ready urg'd by others, to fupport the Be- 
 lief of the Soul's Immortality, by casing 
 them in another Form that may heighten 
 the Evidence of the Demonftration. The 
 great Spring, whence the deplorable De- 
 cay of Piety, and the univerfal Corrup- 
 tion of Manners that threaten this Nation 
 with Ruin, are deriv'd, is the disbelief of 
 2 Future State of Life, or a Fluctuation of 
 Mind about its certainty, or an indolent 
 Inattendance to it. Nor can the Vertuc of 
 this Nation, which muft beallow'd toow 
 great Difhonour, as well as Danger, to 
 be in a very languishing Condition, if not 
 at the kit Gafp, be recaver'd to a vigo- 
 rous
 
 300 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 rous and healthful State, till a warmer 
 and more general Belief of a Future Life 
 of Happinefs or Mifery, fhall take PofTeili- 
 on of our Minds, determine the Choice 
 of our Ends, and govern the Courfe of our 
 Aftions; for without the Motives drawn 
 from the Certainty of the Rewards that 
 attend the Pra&ice of Vertue, and the 
 Punifhments decreed to Irreligion and Vice 
 Irt the next State of Life, powerfully ap- 
 ply'd to our Hopes and Fears, the Strength 
 and Support of Piety and Moral Goodness 
 fall to the Ground, 
 
 THAT the PalTionsare the Blemidi and 
 Difgrace of Human Nature, the Diftemp- 
 cr and Difeafes of the Mind, and there- 
 fore entirely to be fubdu'd and eradicated, 
 was the abfurd and extravagant Opinion 
 of the Stoic k Phtlofophers. Hence they 
 infer'd, that Hopes and Fears were not 
 only unneeelTary, but inconvenient and 
 hurtful; and therefore fhould not be the 
 Springs and Principles of our Actions. 
 That we fhould not be deter'd from Vice 
 and Immorality by the Apprehenfions of 
 confcquent Shame and Punifhmcnt, nor 
 purfuc any good and generous Defign from 
 the expectation ef a Future Reward ; but 
 irt fhort, that Vertue fhould be efteem'd 
 and embraced for its native Beauty and 
 
 intrin-
 
 IMMORTALITY^/^ SOUL. 301 
 
 intrinfick Perfeftion. In conformity to this 
 erroneous Sentiment they endeavour'd, tho 
 with fruitlefs Labour, wholly to extin- 
 guifh the natural Emotions of the Sou!, 
 and pretended to court Vertue under no 
 Views of Advantage, but for its own in- 
 herent Excellence. 
 
 ABOUT two hundred Years before the 
 Incarnation, one Sddoc y a Difciple of Simo 
 the Juft, and the Founder of the S&dducees^ 
 the firlt Seel: among the Jews, profefs'd and 
 propagated the fame Doctrine; tho fomc 
 affirm, that he only afferted, that if in- 
 deed there were no Future State of Retri- 
 bution, yet an innocent and pious Life 
 ought to be purfu'd as good and delight- 
 ful in it felf, and Vice to be refifted and 
 avoided as ignominious and deteftable from 
 its own intrinfick Turpitude ; upon which 
 his unwary Scholars miftaking their Ma- 
 fter, as if he had taught that no Future 
 Recompence was to be expeded, took up 
 this Do&dne, and maintain'd it againli 
 the Pharifees. 
 
 To excite a Man to the Eilecm and 
 Love of Vertue, by the folp Reprefenta- 
 tion of its excellent and amiable Proper- 
 ties, abftra&ing from all Profpeb of pre- 
 lent or future Recompence, at firft fight 
 
 feetr.s
 
 502 An ESSAY ufm the 
 
 feems to heighten its Idea, and makes us! 
 believe, that thofe who thus adhere to it, 
 aft from a more generous and fublime Prin- 
 ciple, than they who cburt her under meN 
 cenary Views, and are more in love with 
 
 her Fortune than her Beauty. 
 
 . to* J iH$fc*l 
 
 BUT if this be examined it will foon 
 appear, that by thus refining and exalting 
 the Notion of Vertue, they have deftroy'd 
 its Force, and difmifs'd its Followers : For 
 tho it is true, that fetting afide the Conn- 
 deration, that Vertue and Religion expofe 
 Men to the Lofs of Liberty, Eftates, and 
 Life it felf, during the Violence and Per- 
 fecution of cruel Tyrants, the Dictates of 
 Reafon would determine us to the Choice 
 of a juft and religious Life ; yet if we re- 
 fleft on the innate Depravity and corrupt 
 Habits inherent in the Minds of Men, by 
 which they are powerfully fway'd to gra- 
 tify their Paflions and inordinate Appe- 
 tites, it muft be allow'd, they will not be 
 attracted by the naked Charms of Vertue; 
 nor affrighted by the meer Deformity of 
 Vice from their criminal Enjoyments. We 
 find, by conftant Experience, that all the 
 Arguments drawn from the amiable Na- 
 ture of Vertue, and the temporal Ad- 
 vantages that ariie from the Practice of 
 it, tiib back'd and entbfc'd by the En- 
 courage-
 
 IMMORTALITY of th So tfL. 303 
 
 couragcments and certain Expectations of 
 endlefs Felicity hereafter, engage but few, 
 if compared with the Race of Mankind, 
 heartily to efpoufe her Caufe ; how then 
 can we expeft fhe fhould have any Vota- 
 ries, if [he had nothing to beftow upon 
 them but her felf, and what fhe confers 
 in this Life ? Hence the Stoicks and Sad- 
 ducees* that perfuade Men to be vertuous, 
 abftrafting from Hopes of Reward, or 
 Fear of Puni foment, lay the Ax to the 
 Root of Piety, and exterminate moral 
 Goodnefs from the World. 
 
 I SHALL now Attempt to give fuch 
 Proofs of the Immortality of the Soul, as 
 will leave in the Mind noreafonable ground 
 of doubting. 
 
 The IMMORTAL IT Y of the Sou t 
 demonftrrtcd by natural Arguments. 
 
 A S at the command of the Omnipoterit 
 " Creator, to whom to Will and Exe- 
 cute is the fame, all the Beings that com- 
 pofe and adorn the Frame of Nature, 
 irarted out of Nothing and ftept up in- 
 to Exiftence ; fo the Converfation, which 
 is a prolong'd Creation of thofe Beings, is 
 owing to a conftant Communication of 
 f Power
 
 304 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 Power from this exhauftlefs Source of 
 Energy and Motion. Should he no longer 
 Will its Continuance, but fufpend his pre- 
 ferving Influence, the whole Creation 
 would immediately diflblve and difappear. 
 Streams may fooner renounce their de- 
 pendance on their Fountains, and Light 
 fubfift without frefh Emanations from the 
 Sun, than the moft excellent and perfed 
 Creatures can remain one Minute inde- 
 pendent on their Maker. 
 
 AND fince the Author is a free and 
 arbitrary Agent, the Duration and Futu- 
 rity of Being muft abfolutely rely on his 
 Pleafure ; and we are no farther capable 
 of knowing whether any of his Creatures 
 (hall have the Privilege of Everlafting 
 Exiftence, than he either by the Light of 
 Reafon or Revelation has fignify'd his 
 Will concerning it. 
 
 To know then if the Soul of Man 
 fhall for ever exift, it is neceilary to en- 
 quire, whether the Divine Author has 
 made any Declaration of his Will always 
 to uphold its Being ; and fetting afide Re- 
 velation, I fhall attempt to fhow by the 
 natural Dictates of Reafon, that he has 
 made known his Pleafure, that Human 
 Souls (hall alwavs continue. 
 
 t HE
 
 IMMORTALITY*?/^ SOUL. 505 
 
 H E has fignlfy'd this Intention, by 
 framing the Soul of a Subftance, not ob- 
 noxious to Corruption or Diflblution : Ar- 
 tificers exprefs by the Nature, Properties^ 
 and Capacities, which they give to their 
 Works, what thofe Works are defign'd 
 for ; and by the Frame, Springs, and 
 Movements communicated to their Auto- 
 mata, they fhew how long they intend 
 their Motion fhall endure. Thus by making 
 the Soul of a Subftance, that is not Mat- 
 ter, nor liable to Watte or Difuriion, the 
 Author has declar'd that he dcfign'd it for 
 an unlimited Duration. 
 
 THAT the Soul is incorporeal will be 
 the fooner granted, if an immaterial Sub- 
 ftance be not thought to imply a Contra- 
 diction, and none but the Atheift, with 
 whom I am not at prefent concern'd, will 
 maintain that AiTertion, for all others ac- 
 knowledge a Divine omnipotent Mind 
 not compounded of material Parts, and 
 therefore the Notion of an incorporeal 
 Subitance, cannot be repugnant to Reafon, 
 nor rejecled by any but the profefs'd Pa- 
 trons of Impiety. 
 
 THE Soul is difcover'd to be Immate* 
 
 rial by its Operations. That Senfation, 
 
 X as
 
 306 An ESSAY ufm the 
 
 as Aromifts aflert, can be the EffecT: of 
 the Organ from its Renitence or Elaftick 
 Spring, by which it drives to free it felf 
 from the material Object that ftrikes upon 
 it, is an inexplicable Explanation of fenfl- 
 tive Perception; for Jnitance, When the 
 Corporeal Image, fays Mr. Hobbes, enters 
 into the Organ of the Eye, the nervous 
 Fibres implanted there to refift its Progrefs, 
 fpring back againft it, and from that Ef- 
 fort Vifion refults. 
 
 Now let any Man try if he can con- 
 ceive how , the Impulfe of one material 
 Thing, and the Refiftance and Re-a&ion 
 of another can produce Senfation ; we muft 
 folve this Difficulty our felves, for the 
 Philofopher does not pretend to inform us. 
 But entirely to fubvert this Hypothefis, it 
 is evident that Perception is not performM 
 in the Organ, but in the Head, fmce it 
 often happens that Men are entirely de- 
 priv'd of Sight, tho the Eye has no de- 
 fect, and the vifible Image has free ad- 
 mittance there, as eft as the Optick Nerve 
 is Ib obftruded, as not to fuflfer the Spi- 
 rits afted upon by the Objecl;, to propa- 
 gate their Motion, and carry the Impulfe 
 from the Eye to the Brain. 
 
 IT
 
 IT is yet harder to conceive, how meer 
 Matter by its own Power, can recoil up- 
 on it felf, contemplate its own Nature, 
 Reafon and Phtlofophiie upon its o\Vn 
 Properties and review its own Aftions : 
 How, in Argumentation, it can aiTent to 
 two Proportions, between which it difcerns: 
 an Agreement, and by quite another Mo- 
 tion deduce from them a Third. That 
 Matter (hould be able to begin its own 
 Motion, to flop or change it to another 
 at Pleafure, as it mud do in Contempla* 
 tion and Reafoning, is to afcribe Powers 
 to Matter, which are acknowledged in- 
 con fiftent with all the Properties obferv'd 
 in corporeal Beings. The Formation of 
 Ideas in the Brain by Imagination, the 
 ranging and Difpofition of them by the 
 Judgment into regular Schemes and Trains 
 of Thought, mutt be allow'd the Effect 
 of an Immaterial Principle. If meer Mat- 
 ter could, by its peculiar Figuration, Pu* 
 rity, and Motion, be rais'd to the Dignity 
 of a Thinking Subftance, fuppofe, (ince 
 Matter is divifible, that when it has form'd 
 a Thought, it fhould be feparated into 
 Parts, the Confequence would be, that 
 each Part mutt retain its Portion of the 
 Character or Idea ; and thus you might 
 divide a Thought into Halves, Quarters, 
 X 2 or
 
 308 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 or yet minuter Portions, which founds a 
 a little odd in the Mouth of a Philofo- 
 pher. 
 
 NOR is it poffible to account for Me- 
 mory any more than for Reflection, Cal- 
 culation, and Reafoning from mere Mat- 
 ter and Motion ; as for many other Rea- 
 fons, fo for this, That Matter being in 
 continual Flux, and therefore the Limbs of 
 our Bodies and the Organs of our Senfes 
 being not the fame now as they were fome 
 Years ago, the old Materials perpetually 
 fleeting from the Body, and new ones fuc- 
 eeeding in their Place; the Particles of 
 Matter being loft that form'd our Spirits 
 feven Years ago, and were endow'd and 
 ftamp'd with the Chara&ersproduc'd at that 
 Time, muft have carryM away thofe Im- 
 preflions with them, and the new Matter 
 that came in the room of the former being 
 naked and unfigur'd with thofe Ideas, could 
 not pofftbly preferve the Memory of paft 
 Tranfa&ions. If aShip,on which are carv'd, 
 for Ornament, various Figures and Signs, 
 fhould itay out at Sea till every Plank and 
 Piece of Wood, by degrees, were gone, 
 and their Places fupply'd by frefh Timber, 
 as it is reported of Drake's Veffel, would 
 this Ship retain thofe Images and Ornaments 
 which it car ry'd out ? 
 
 NOR
 
 309 
 
 NOR is the Self-determining Power 
 or free Choice, which the Soul enjoys, a 
 Jefs convincing Evidence of its immaterial 
 Nature, than its Reflection, Argumenta- 
 tion, and Memory. This Capacity of de- 
 figning an End, of deliberating and bal- 
 Jancing about the Fitnefs of the Means to 
 attain it ; and at laft, upon the Com- 
 parifon of chufing one in prefereace to 
 the reft, is fo plain a Difcovery that the 
 Soul is not Corporeal, that the Oppofers 
 of its immaterial Nature acknowledge this 
 to be the moft difficult of all the Powers 
 of the Mind to be accounted for upon their 
 Hypothefis : and it is indeed fo difficult, 
 that in their Attempt to explain it, they 
 are driven to the moft extravagant Abfur- 
 dities. Can any thing be more inconfi- 
 ftent and ridiculous than the Invention of 
 Lucretius, who to folve this Difficulty, 
 fuppofes, againft the Foundation of the 
 Epicurean Scheme of Philifophy, a declin- 
 ing Motion of his Atomes ; that is, neither 
 ftrait nor oblique, but qt/afi oblique. But 
 I fhall not purlue this Subject here, having 
 fully expos'd that idle and incoherent Hy- 
 pothefis in another Writing. 
 
 IF the Soul were a Syftem compounded 
 
 of refin'd and figure! Matter, agitated by 
 
 X a
 
 510 An E s s A Y upon the 
 a rapid Motion, it would furmount the 
 reach of Human Underftanding to imagine 
 how it fhou Id fo far tranfcend the Sphere 
 of its own Activity, a* to have any No- 
 tion of immaterial Subftance ; that it 
 fhould doubt of its being Corporeal, dif- 
 pute againft its own Nature, fufpet its 
 own Properties, and grow ambitious of 
 being rang'd among fuperior Creatures, 
 even thole of angelick Endowments and 
 immortal Duration. Yet this is the Cafe 
 before us ; if the Mind of Man is made 
 of Matter, it is, I fay, unaccountable 
 whence it fhould be capable of forming 
 the Idea of an intellectual Spirit, and how 
 it came to be univerfally prejudiced againft 
 the right Conception of its own Nature, 
 and prepoilefs'd with the contrary errc* 
 neous Opinion, 
 
 ANOTHER Argument of the Soul's 
 Immaterial, and therefore Immortal Na- 
 ture is this ; that it enjoys Pleafures and 
 Satisfactions peculiar to the Capacities and 
 Tafte of a fpiritual, intelligent Being; of 
 this Nature is the Delight that a Philofo- 
 pher perceives in contemplating the beau- 
 tiful Syitem of the World, in fearching 
 the hidden Springs and Caufes of Things, 
 arid tracing Nature through the Varieties 
 of her fegret and admirable Operations ; 
 
 oj
 
 IMMORTALITY of the So u j.. 311 
 
 of this fort like wife is the Pleafure of a. 
 Mathematician, taken up in the Furfuits 
 of Knowledge by an infinite Series of co- 
 herent Deductions and Demonftrations. 
 Nor is the Poet's Delight of a different 
 Kind, that arifes from the Operations of 
 a fpiritful, fertile, and vaft Imagina- 
 tion. Thefe Pleasures, that are plainly 
 Intellectual, are fo much fuperior to 
 thofe of Senfe, that fometimes they tranf- 
 port Men out of themfelves, and fo far 
 fufpend their ReliQi and Defire of fenfi- 
 tive Enjoyments, that they forget to re- 
 frefh themfelves with Meat, Drink, and 
 Sleep. Yet the Satisfaction and Compla- 
 cency of a religious Mind, flowing from 
 Ab of Piety and Devotion, from the 
 ardent Efforts of Divine Love, Gratitude, 
 Joy, and Admiration, from the Contem- 
 plation of the infinite Perfections of the 
 Supream Being, and the Foretaft and Pre- 
 occupation of Future Felicity, are yet of a 
 more excellent and exalted Nature : Thefe 
 are refin'd, elevated, and fpiritual Joys, of 
 which the Animal Nature is entirely in- 
 capable. Nor are thefe the Delights of 
 Men of an odd and whimfical Complexi- 
 on, but of Perfons of fevere Jodgment, 
 clear Heads, ftrong Reafon, and inur'd 
 to the clofeft manner of arguing ; Men 
 unbiafs'd and difinterefted, and as much 
 X 4 deliver'd
 
 3 1 1 An ESSAY ufm the 
 deliver'd from a fuperftitious Turn of 
 Mind, melancholy Delufions, and fple- 
 petick Dreams, as their Opponents are 
 from the Jmpreflions of Religion, and 
 the Prejudices of Education. But if 
 the contrary .were true, that the Divine 
 Pleafures that arife from the Exercife of 
 pious Habits were imaginary and ground^ 
 Jefs, yet itrll the Argument holds good, 
 that they are of a peculiar Kind, prqper 
 to the Soul, and diftincl from thofe fenfi- 
 tive Satisfactions that only affect corporeal 
 Organs. A Man of Reflection will eafily 
 acknowledge they are above the Sphere of 
 Senie,and of fo pure celeftial, and fublime a 
 ISfature, as to be adapted only to fpiritual Be? 
 ings. And hence it will appear, that there is 
 the very fame Reafon to conclude that the 
 Soul of Man is Incorporeal, and therefore 
 an incorruptible Subrtance; as that any 
 created Being is fo, whofe Immaterial and 
 Immortal Nature cannot be infer'd from 
 any other Principles than thofe, which will 
 as well demonft rate the fame Properties iu 
 tfie Soul of Man,, 
 
 THE Happinefs then which the Soul 
 enjoys peculiar to its Faculties, and dU 
 fiincl: from the Pleafuresof the Body which 
 It inhabits, will facilitate to Men of Reafon 
 the Belief pf its Immortality, Brute Crea ?
 
 IMMORTALITY of the SOUL. 313 
 
 cures, not being made for endlefs Dura- 
 tion, have no Tafte or Defire of the Fe- 
 licity of an intelligent Mind, which arifes 
 from the Acquifition of Knowledge and 
 Wifdom, the Pra&ice of Vertue, and the 
 fweet Reflection on a ufeful and innocent 
 Life : For this Happinefs is proper to the 
 Soul, which it is evident it may poflefs 
 in a State of Separation ; for the Animal 
 Part of Man has no more Relifh or Per- 
 ception of thefe fuperior intellectual De- 
 lights, than the fame low Nature has ip 
 the Beafts that perifh. 
 
 AND if the Soul is capable of this Fe- 
 licity and Perfection, and has Pleafures pe- 
 culiar to its own Nature, and is capable 
 of enjoying them when difunited from the 
 Body ; and if the Creator of the World 
 did not endow it with that Capacity in 
 vain, it Ihould not, methinks, be difficult 
 to difcern, that therefore he defign'd it for 
 a happy Immortality* 
 
 NOR is the Argument lefs conclufive 
 for the Soul's Immortality, when we urge, 
 that it is capable of Pain and Mifery ap- 
 propriated to it felf. It can difcern the 
 Deformity and moral Turpitude of its 
 Aftions, and reflect on Guilt with Shame 
 4ftd Remorfe, it is ftartled and terrify 'd 
 
 at
 
 314- -A E s s A Y upon the 
 at the Apprehenfions of Divine Difplea- 
 fure, can anticipate the awful Solemnity of 
 the Day of Accompt, and to avoid an end- 
 lefs miferable Exigence, can defire to go 
 out cf Being, and wifh for Annihilation. 
 Thefe Operations are fo far above the Ca- 
 pacity of the Animal Nature, that one 
 would think they fhould convince any 
 Man, that the Soul is Spiritual and Im- 
 material, and therefore fram'd for endlefs 
 Duration : For he may be as well fatisfy'd 
 from what has been alledg'd, that the 
 Animal Part of Man is as uncapable of 
 that intelle&uai Happinefs or Mifery which 
 Iiave been defcrib'd, as we are fure that a 
 Tree, notwithftanding its vegetable Life, 
 cannot feel, fee, or hear, while we obferve 
 that it expreffes no fenfitive Perceptions, 
 nor has any proper Organs for fuch Pur- 
 pofes. 
 
 BESIDES, let it be confider'd, that 
 Mankind even in their deprav'd State, 
 notwithftanding the Obfc-urity of their 
 Thoughts and the Conhifion of their Ideas, 
 as well as their moral Corruption and De- 
 generacy, have univerfally exprefs'd a ftrong 
 Inclination to believe the two great Arti- 
 cks of Religion, The Exiftenceof a God, 
 and the Immortality of the Soul. Thefe 
 Notions bear fuch a Conformity to their 
 
 Intel-
 
 IMMORTALITY 0/f& SOUL. 315 
 Intelleftual Faculties, that as foon as ever 
 they exercis'd their Reafon, and were left 
 to the Freedom of their Thoughts, they 
 readily aflented to the Truth of them. 
 The firft of thefe Articles, the Exiftence 
 of a God, is fuppos'd to be granted in 
 this Difcourfe : And as the general Con- 
 fent of Mankind to the Notion of a God, 
 is juftly us'd as an Argument of great 
 Weight agatnft the Atheift ; fo the fame 
 univerfal Voice of Nature is of no lefs 
 Validity againft the Infidel, that disbe- 
 lieves the Immortality of the Soul; for 
 thofe Notions which the whole Human 
 Species readily aflent to, muft be allow'd to 
 be the Declaration and Opinion of Nature ; 
 or in plainer words, the ftrongeft, clear- 
 eft, and moft early Dictate of Reafon, 
 otherwife it will be impoffible to account 
 for the general and ready Belief of fuch 
 a Notion. It muft be granted, that the 
 powerful Difpofition and Bent of Mind, 
 m all Nations and Ages, to receive this 
 Propofition as true, That the Soul it Im- 
 m&rtd, will make it evident, that it muft 
 be a natural Idea, agreeable to the Incli- 
 nation, and fuitable to the Frame and Fa- 
 culties of the Mind. The common Peo- 
 ple, conducted only by the Biafs and Light 
 of Nature, believ'd that the Soul did not 
 perifh with the Body, but that after the
 
 316 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 DifTolution of that Tenement, it confcinu'd 
 in Being, and pafs'd into a State of Hap- 
 pinefs or Mifery, agreeable to its Behavi- 
 our in this Life. 
 
 THEIR Deifying of deceafed Men, who 
 had been eminent Benefa&ors to Man- 
 kind, and peopling Heaven with Colonies 
 of Heroes, their Kingdom of Pluto, and 
 the variety of Torments fuppos'd to be in- 
 flifted on the Impious and Flagitious, and 
 the Pleafures of their Eltfa Fields, the 
 Reward of the Juit and Innocent ; and in 
 fhort, their whole Scheme of Theology, 
 however furperftitious and abfurd, were 
 evidently founded on this Principle of the 
 Soul's Immortality. 
 
 THE greateft part like wife of themoft 
 eminent Philofophers held this Opinion ; 
 the Primitive Pythagoreans, the Platonifts, 
 and the Stoicks, at leaft for the moil part, 
 were AiTertors of it: and that this was 
 the general Notion of their wifeft Men, 
 we have the clear Teftimony of Cicero, 
 who with great Care had ftudy'd their 
 Writings, and was admirably vers'd in 
 the Doctrines of all their different Seels. 
 That great Man having freely declar'd 
 his Belief of the Soul's Immortality, fays 
 thus ', Nor ha,y Reafon only and Argumentation 
 
 compeWd
 
 IMMORTALITY of the SOUL. 317 
 
 compelled me to receive tbi* Opinion, but the 
 judgment and Authority of the moft eminent 
 Phtlofopbtrs. And elfewhere he affirms^ 
 That this Notion of the Soul's Immortality, 
 was fupported hy the Confent of all Nations* 
 Tho Socrates, the moft excellent of the 
 Pagan Sages, who never roundly and pofi- 
 tively affirm'd any thing, {poke with Dif- 
 fidence and Fluctuation about a Future 
 State after his modeft manner ; yet his Be- 
 lief, ;tho it did not exclude all doubting, 
 was fo prevalent, that it over-power'd and 
 controul'd his Diffidence to fuch a degree, 
 that upon the Hopes and Profpeft of a 
 happy Immortality, he laid down his Life 
 with Alacrity and great firmnefs of Mind. 
 And as in moral Habits, that degree of 
 Vertue that is powerful enough to bear 
 down the contrary evil Inclinations, and 
 engage us in predominant Obedience to its 
 Precepts, is in a Chriftian Senfe real and 
 fincere ; fo that Belief of a Future State 
 that prevails with any Man, in fpite of all 
 Oppofition, to aft in conformity to that 
 Principle muft be allow'd to be genuine ; 
 and what could have been expected more 
 from Socrates, to have manifested his In- 
 tegrity and the victorious Degree of his 
 Belief of the Soul's Immortality, than that 
 which with great Courage and Constancy 
 he exprefs'd. But of all the learned and 
 
 wife
 
 5 1 8 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 wife Pagans none have more openly, and 
 in ftronger Terms up and down his Wri- 
 tings, acknowledged his Belief of this 
 Article, than Cicero. Thefe are his words : 
 (a) The Souls of all Men are Immortal, but 
 thofe of the Good And Valiant Are not only 
 Immortal, but Divine, (b) There is nothing 
 fublunary^ but what is mortal and periling., 
 except the Souls that the Gods have beftonfd 
 on the Race of Mankind, (c) Death is not 
 the Deftruction of our Be ing, and the Ext in ft i- 
 on of all our Enjoyment s, hut a fort of Tranjla- 
 tion or Change of Life. 
 
 (a) Omnium quidem Animi Iminortales funt fed for- 
 tium Bonorumque divini. De Leg. 
 
 (b) Infra Lunam nihil eft nifi Mortale & Caducem, 
 piaster Animos gencri Hominum numcrc Deorum Datos. 
 
 (c) Mortem non interitum cfTe omnia tollentem atquc 
 deleiitcm, fed quandam migradoncm & corhmutanoueni 
 Vita:. Tufcul. 
 
 Animus fcip&m mover atquc idcirco non eft Natus 
 fed JEternus. Tiifcul. 
 
 Mors iis terribilis eft, quorum eum Vita omnia extin- 
 guntur. Petrad. 
 
 Mors aut meliorem, quam qui eft in Vita, aut ccrtc 
 non deteriorem allatura eft ftatum. Pro Place. 
 
 Incorpore inclufus tanquam alicnx domi, propria em in 
 ejus fedcs eft Coelum. Tufcul. 
 
 Sic habeto te non efle mortalcm, fed Corpus hoc, De 
 Som. Scip. 
 
 Bonorum mentes mihi Divinx arque j^ternje viden- 
 tur, & ex Hominum Vita ad Dcorurn Religionem Sancl:i- 
 moniamque migrant. De Leg. 
 
 Impii apud inferos pccrias luant. Ibid* 
 
 BUT
 
 IMMORTALITY of the SOUL. 
 
 BUT he declares his Mind upon this 
 Subject moft clearly, and in the moil no- 
 ble and pious Expreflions, in the latter end 
 of his excellent Book De Senetfute, where 
 he fays, That he firmly believ'd that the 
 famous Romans, his deceased Friends, were 
 ftill alive, and that they en joy 'd a Life 
 which only deferv'd that Name. And af- 
 terwards he aflerts, that he collected the 
 Immortality of the Soul from its Operati- 
 ons and immaterial Nature. / perfuademj 
 felf, fays he, ft nee the Soul is endow d with 
 fetch Activity, fuck a, Remembrance of Things 
 ptft, fuch a Forefight of Events to come, fo 
 many Arts, Sciences, and Inventions, th*t 
 a Nature, which contains in it felf fuch Per- 
 feffions, cannot be Mortal ; face the Soul is 
 always agitated, nor has any beginning of Mo- 
 tion, becaufe J?je moves her frlf, nor wiH 
 have any end of Motion, becaufe fie will ne- 
 ver defert, or be wanting to her felf ; and fines 
 the Nature of the Soul is pmple, nor contains 
 the mixture of any Thing that is unlike or 
 incongruous to its felf, tt can never be di- 
 vided, and therefore can never perifb. -- . 
 My Soul exerting her felf, always look'd upoa 
 Futurity in this View, that when it fljould fart 
 with Life, it fbould then Live. - / have 
 an ardent Deftre, fays he to Scipio and L<eli- 
 us, to fee your Fathers, whom I honour d and
 
 310 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 lovd, nor do I long only to converfe with thofe 
 fohom 1 knew, hut with thofe likewife ofwlorrt 
 j have heard and read, and of whom I my 
 
 felf have written. And a little after, 
 
 tranfported with the Profpecb of a happy 
 Immortality, he breaks out into this tri- 
 umphant and celebrated Exclamation 
 glorious Day, when I flail he admitted into the 
 Council and Affvmbly of Souls, and he delivered 
 from this tutnultuourand polluted World, when 
 1 /ball not only meet with the great Spirits 
 before-named, but with my lorfd Cato alfo, the 
 
 braveft and bef of Men I And after, 
 
 If 1 err in this Belief of the Immortality of 
 the Soul, 1 err willingly, nor (hall any thing 
 
 while I live wreft this Error from me. 
 
 What an excellent and divine Mind had 
 this noble Roman, tho a Heathen, com- 
 par'd with the Profeflbrs of Impiety and 
 the Chriftian Libertines of thefe degene- 
 rate Times ? 
 
 THERE remains yet another Argument 
 to prove, that the braveft and wifelt Men 
 in all Ages thought that the Soul remained 
 alive after the Diflblution of the Body, 
 and that is, their earneft Defire of Glory 
 and Immortal Fame. That the greatest 
 and moft generous Spirits among the 
 Heathens, coveted above all Things Ap- 
 plaufe and a great Name; is evident from 
 
 their
 
 IMMORTALITY 0/f^ SOUL. 511 
 
 their own Writings, in which they exprefs 
 this Paffion in the warmeft manner, and 
 acknowledge, that this was the Spring 
 and impulfive Principle from which their 
 indefatigable Labours and worthy Under- 
 takings had their Rife. And to the fame 
 Defire of Renown, perhaps, the far great- 
 eft part of the Produ&ions of famous Wits 
 and the illuftrious Atchievements of Heroes 
 among Chriftians owe their Birth. Cicero 
 fays, that this Paffion is always found in 
 the greateft and fined Spirits, (d) The 
 Minds of the befl Men, fays he, chieflj afpire 
 after immortal Glory. And elfewherc he 
 fays thus : (e) There is fierce any Man, who 
 by the Labours he undertakes, and the Dangers 
 to which he expofes himfelf, does not deprt 
 Glory, as the Reward of his great Aft ions. 
 A nd in another place he gives this Reafon 
 of it ; (f) The Life of Man is (bort, but 
 the Couffe of Glory is Eternal. In another 
 thus : (g) Of all the Rewards of Venue Glory 
 
 (J) Optimi cujufque Aninius malirae ad immortalcm 
 Gloriam mtitur. De Sen. 
 
 (e) Vix invenitur, qui laboribus ftifceptis peficulifque 
 aditis, nou quafi Merccdcm rerum Gcuacum defidcrct 
 Gloriam. Qjf. 
 
 (/) Vita brcvis, curfus Gloria fcmpitcrnus. Pro Se/l. 
 
 (g] Er omni'ons prxmns Virtutis ampliUimum e(Te Prse- 
 mium Gloriam, efle hanc unam, qua: brevitatcm Vin 
 Pofteriratis Mcmoria confolaretur, quae cfficcrct, ur ab- 
 fcntcs adcffcmuv, morcui vivcrcmu?. Pr Mil.
 
 An ESSAY upon the 
 is the greatejl ; if is only this that CM *f- 
 ford QonfoUtion for the fhortnefs of Life, by 
 caufttg us to be remembered by Poferity, that 
 can make us Prefent while Abfent, and pre- 
 fer us alive after Death. This univerfal 
 defire of Praife and Admiration, and to be 
 fpoken of with Honour in the Ages to 
 come, muft fuppofe, that thofe who covet 
 and purfue it, muft believe as I have fug- 
 gefted in another Difcourfe, that they (hall 
 continue in Being after their Deceafe, or 
 elfe that Paflion is very idle and unac- 
 countable; for what Satisfaction can the 
 Applaufes and Panegyricks of Pofterity af- 
 ford a Man that is not in Being, and 
 therefore entirely uncapable of enjoying 
 
 them? 
 
 -....- - - - - . j " . i * 
 
 THUS the beft and wifeft Perfons in 
 all Times and Nations, have look'd on the 
 Human Soul as incorporeal, except thofe 
 of the Epicurean School, who with great 
 Zeal and Labour endeavour'd to elevate 
 their Nature to the Rank of intelligent 
 Engines, and felf-moving Automata-, but 
 the Reafons they us'd were fo frivolous 
 and incpnclufive, and the Explications they 
 have given, how Matter may be difpos'd 
 to Think, Reafon, and acquire a felf-de- 
 termining Power and Freedom of Choice, 
 are fo inept and ridiculous, that to name 
 
 them
 
 IMMORTALITY fl/>fc SOUL. 323 
 
 them is enough to confirm the Reader in 
 the contrary Opinion. Let any Man con- 
 fider how thefe little Phiiofophers folve 
 the Operations of the Mind upon the foot 
 of mere Matter and Motion, and I aflure 
 my felf, he will reject their Notions with 
 Contempt. 
 
 IF then the Body of the common Peo- 
 ple, and the far greateft part of the wifeft 
 and moft learned Men in all Ages, have 
 declar'd their Belief of the Soul's Immor- 
 tality ; this will amount to the univerfal 
 Approbation of Mankind, not with (land ing 
 fome Individuals have exprefs'd their Dif- 
 fent ; of which more in the next Argu- 
 ment, And this is fo agreeable to Cicero's 
 Sentiment, that notwithstanding he had 
 acknowledg'd that Democritus, Epicurus^ 
 Dichttrchas, and others affirm'd, that the 
 Soul was Corporeal and Mortal, yet he 
 declares his Senfe thus : (h) // is my Judg- 
 ment thrt the Sou/ is Immortal, 6y the Confint 
 of All Nations. 
 
 THE no lefs univerfal Defire of Irr- 
 mortality which is found among Man- 
 kind, if well attended to, fhould induce 
 
 (b) Animos permanete arbitramur confcncu omnium 
 iciormot, Tufiul. 
 
 Y 2 US
 
 314- ^ n E is SAY ujtmthe 
 us to receive this Article ; for if this De- 
 fire be universal, it muft be an Inftinft of 
 Nature ; and if fo, muft be implanted ia 
 the Mind, like other inbred Propenfions 
 and Appetites, by the Author of Nature, 
 who, I imagine, no one will believe mixt 
 in the Constitution of Man any Defires, 
 Faculties, or Appetites, for which he had 
 provided no fuitable Objects; for this 
 would be to fuppofe, that either infinite 
 Wifdom a&ed without an End, or that 
 infinite Goodnefs defign'd a Delufion ; of 
 which more when we come to MORAL 
 ARGUMENTS. Now that the Defire of 
 Immortality is as really univerfal as other 
 natural Appetites, will appear thus, 
 
 THAT Impulfc or Propenfion muft be 
 allow'd to be Natural, which is felt by 
 all Nations in all Ages, and efpccially by 
 thofe whofe Nature is moft perfeft, and 
 whofe Faculties are moft refin'd and im- 
 prov'd, which is the Cafe before us. All 
 People, tho moft remote from each other, 
 and moft different in their Language, Cuf- 
 toms and Inclinations, agree in their De- 
 fires and Expectations of Immortality, and 
 feel fomething of a fecret AfTurance, that 
 their Lives will not be extinguifh'd by 
 the Diflblution of the Body, but only 
 change its State and Circumftances. And 
 
 it
 
 IMMORTALITY of the SOUL. 315 
 
 it is not only Death, of which by the 
 ftrong Principle of Self-prefervation they 
 exprefs an Abhorrence, but the Soul (brinks 
 and ftarts back on her felf at the Thoughts 
 of Annihilation ; and this Inftincl is fo ge- 
 neral, that it muft be concluded it was 
 originally interwoven with pur native 
 Complexion. 
 
 IT will be in vain to contend, that the 
 Defire of Living always is not univerfal, 
 and therefore not a natural Impulfe, be- 
 caufe feveral Perfons are fo far from wifh- 
 ing an Immortal State, that they decline 
 it, and dread nothing more. Let this be 
 granted, yet it does by no means over- 
 turn my Pofition ; for the Idea of Uni- 
 verfality, in this Cafe, does not include 
 the Defires of every Individual, but the 
 ordinary Temper of Mankind, and the 
 Inftin&s of infinitely the greateft Number 
 of Perfens ; for that is faid to be natural, 
 which in the cuftomary Series of Nature's 
 Operations generally is produc'd, thofome- 
 times fhe may deviate, from her common 
 Path, and furprize us with irregular and 
 extraordinary Prod unions. Deprivation of 
 Sight and incapacity of Hearing or Speak- 
 ing, which fome owe to their firft Forma- 
 tion in the Womb, will be no convincing 
 Argument,that Seeing, Hearing, and Speech 
 Y 3 are
 
 An ESSAY ufon the 
 
 are not natural to the Human Species. 
 Nor is it a Dernonftration that the Shape, 
 Number, and Connexion of Members, 
 which are commonly obferv'd in Man, 
 is not the natural Order requir'd in his 
 Strufture, fhould it be ailedg'd, that 
 in fome this Symetry is neglc&ed, that 
 the Foetus comes into the World rump- 
 led and mifhapen, with more or fewer 
 Limbs than ufual, and in its Growth 
 ftill keeps its monftrous Figure and Defor- 
 mity. Befides, it muft be cpnfider'd that 
 thofe few Perfons, in comparifon, who in- 
 {lead of defiring, would avoid Immortali- 
 ty, are generally fuch, whofe evil Habits 
 and vicious Manners make them obnoxi- 
 ous to the dreadful Apprehenfions of Di- 
 vine Puni foments in another Life ; and 
 therefore they tremble at the Thoughts of 
 a Future State of Exiftence. In this Cafe 
 thefe Men aft agreeably to Reafon, while 
 they chufe rather to perifh, to be difli- 
 pated and mingled with common Matter, 
 and to go quite out of Being, than to live 
 in Pain and endlefs Mifery. And when by 
 their immoral Behaviour they have made 
 it neceffary to their Safety, that their Souls 
 fhould perifh with their Bodies, by degrees 
 they bring over their ftruggling Reafon 
 to the fide of their Intereft, and deny, or 
 pretend to disbelieve the Soul's Immorta- 
 lity.
 
 IMMORTALITY of the Sou j.. 317 
 
 lity. And this will account for a furpri- 
 zing Event ; that is, why among Nations, 
 whofe Faculties are more cultivated and 
 inlighten'd by the Chriftian Religion, the 
 Disbelief of the Soul's Immortality fhould 
 be more rife and prevalent than among 
 ancient and modern Pagans. For thefq 
 not being fo certain of incurring, by their 
 evil Actions, Divine Difplcafure and fuf- 
 fering Future Mifery, did not lie under fq 
 ftrong a Temptation to rejeft the Opinion 
 of a Future State, as a loofe and vicious 
 Chriftian, who being inftru&ed in the 
 Conditions of Happinefs hereafter, is af- 
 fur'd, that his diflblute Life is inconfiftenc 
 with thofe Conditions; and therefore if 
 after Death there is an everlaftjng State, 
 he muft exped to be for ever miferable. 
 
 AND this Aflertion is fupported by the 
 following Obfervation. Men that have 
 been bred in loofe and ignorant Families, 
 not being thoroughly made acquainted with 
 the Nature of Vertue, and the neceffary 
 Terms of Future Felicity, feldom become 
 fo impious in Principle as to renounce the 
 Belief of a Deity and a Future State ; for 
 thefe can make their diforderly Life, and 
 the Hopes of a happy Immortality, a- 
 grce well enough together, not knowing 
 that they are really repugnant and never 
 X 4 to
 
 3 iS An ESSAY upon the 
 
 to be reconciled ; while thofe who have had 
 the Advantages of liberal and vertuous 
 Educations, and are convinced of the Ne- 
 ceflity of a regular and fober Life to the 
 attainment of Immortal Blifs, and the a- 
 voiding of end lefs Sufferings ; while thefe, 
 I fay, who are endow'd with a good Share 
 of religious Knowledge, which however 
 is unoperative in their Lives, being over- 
 power'd by the Violence of evil Habits 
 and vicious Inclinations, are very fenfible, 
 that by their irregular Actions they be- 
 come obnoxious to Divine Difpleafure, 
 whence they are conftantly difturb'd in 
 their guilty Enjoyments by fecret Terror 
 and Remorfe, it is no wonder that they 
 ufe the moft effe&ual means in their Power, 
 to remove the perpetual Anguifh and Dif- 
 quiet of their Minds ; and fince they la- 
 bour under a moral Impotency, and are 
 not able to reft rain their inordinate Ap- 
 petites, what can they do, but attempt to 
 efface the Notion of a Future State of Im- 
 mortality, that they may purfue their dif- 
 folute Courfe of Life without troublefome 
 Reflexions, and keep their Breafts from 
 being a miferable Seat of War, between 
 their immoral Habits and the Dictates of 
 .Vertue? This is the Reafon, why thofe, 
 who in their Youth have been well in- 
 ftru&ed in the Principles of Religion, and 
 
 bred
 
 IMMORTALITY of the Sou t. 329 
 
 bred among great Examples of Piety and 
 Vertiie, and of which themfelves once ex- 
 prefs'd fome Tafte and Efteem, if they af- 
 terwards become Libertines, are more inr 
 clin'd than others to renounce the Belief of 
 a Future Immortality. 
 
 I F then the Soul be an immaterial Sub- 
 ftance, and more than a diflipable Syftem 
 or curious Web of attenuated Matter, it 
 difcovers the Will of the Author, that 
 he defign'd it for immortal Duration. 
 
 Of MORAI, ARGUMENTS, 
 
 '"pHE Belief of the Exiftence of God, 
 and the Immortality of the Soul, are 
 Articles of Religion fo clofely connected, 
 that he who acknowledges the firft will 
 foon be induc'd to embrace the laft : For 
 from the infinite Perfections of the Di- 
 vine Being, namely, his Goodnefs, Wif. 
 dom, Juftice and Faithfulnefs, the eternal 
 Life of the Mind is fo evidently infer'd, 
 that it fcarce needs any other Demonftra- 
 tion. 
 
 I N the firft place, I will attempt to de- 
 duce this Conclufion from his infinite Good- 
 nefs. All who acknowledge a fupream 
 Being, the Maker and Moderator of the 
 
 World,
 
 3 3 ^w ESSAY z^wz the 
 
 World, conceive him as endow'd with un- 
 limited Power; and that therefore he is 
 able to produce all Things, the Notion of 
 which does not contain any inconfiftent 
 Ideas that deftroy each other; that is, 
 which does not imply a Contradiction : for 
 fuch repugnant Things are juftly allow'd 
 to be out of the Sphere of Omnipotent 
 Activity. It muft then be granted, that 
 an Almighty Caufe has Ability to create 
 an immaterial and incorruptible Mind like 
 himfelfi who is an Incorporeal and Spiri- 
 tual Being, fince that Conception does not 
 include contradictory Terms. Infinite Power 
 and unlimited Fruitfutnefs can, with the 
 fame Eafe, make a Seraph as a Worm : 
 nor can an incorporeal Subftance, yet un- 
 produc'd, any more difobey the creating 
 Word, or delay to put on Being and ftep 
 forth into Exiftence, than a Peble or an 
 Infeft. This being premis'd, it will fol- 
 }ow, that if we have a juft Conception of 
 the Divine Goodnefs, we may thence de- 
 duce the Immortality of the Soul. 
 
 GOODNESS is a generous Difpofition 
 of Mind, to diffufe and communicate it 
 felf to others, in proportion to the Agent's 
 Ability, and the Receiver's Capacity. This 
 Notion is fo juft, that tho a Man fhould 
 poiTefs an Affluence of all Things requir'd 
 
 for
 
 IMMORTALITY 0/ffe SOUL. 
 
 for the Gratification of his Senfes and the 
 Endowments of his Mind, yet his Felicity 
 would be incompleat, were he without 
 an Ability of being Beneficial to others; 
 no excellent and exalted Spirit can be eafy, 
 tho he enjoys whatever his De fires de- 
 mand for himfelf, unlefs he is capable of 
 fupplying the Wants of thofe about him ; 
 nor will he efteem himfelf happy, while 
 it is out of his Power to make others fa 
 
 THIS Idea of Goodnefs ftrikes us with 
 fuch Fleafure and Admiration, that we 
 prefently afcribe it in the higheft Degree 
 to the great Creator, and adore him as the 
 Beft and moft Beneficent Being. And 
 therefore the Philofopher faid well, That 
 thofe Men were moft like the Gods, who 
 wanted leaft for themfelves, and did moft 
 Good to others. The Supream Being then, 
 who is endowM with all poflible Perfecti- 
 on, and therefore poirefles this Attribute of 
 Goodnefs in its utmoft Extent, muft have 
 boundlefs Propenfions to communicate it 
 felf, and impart Felicity to others. And 
 fince he has brought into Exiftence Corpo- 
 real Creatures of an inferior Rank and of 
 different Degrees of Perfe&ion, and has 
 diffus'd one common Nature with amazing 
 Variety, through innumerable Kinds of 
 Infe&s and fuperior Animals, in a beauti- 
 ful
 
 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 ful Subordination to each other, it is not 
 to be imagined, why his Fertility fhould 
 ftop here, and not proceed to form more 
 excellent Beings ; we may then fafely con-* 
 elude, that fince he is able, his infinite 
 Defire of communicating his Goodnefs has 
 a&ually inclined him to create Subftances 
 of an immaterial Nature, and of a higher 
 Order than his vifible Produ&ions; fuch 
 are the various Ranks or Clafles of Spirits, 
 dignify 'd with Reafon and Freedom of 
 Choice. This therefore amounts to a De- 
 monftration, that God has made Creatures 
 of a more excellent Nature than thofe com- 
 pounded of Matter ; and that fuch as are di- 
 ftinguifh'd by the Faculty of Reafon, Judg- 
 ment, and Self-determining Power, muft 
 be concluded to be thefe immaterial Be- 
 ings, on whom the Author, who envies 
 no Happinefs of his Creatures, has beftow'd 
 fuch high Endowments. 
 
 AND when we contemplate the infi- 
 nite Wifdom of thefirft Caufe, the beauti- 
 ful Method and Order that he has obferv'd 
 in the various Productions of his Power, 
 it will appear very reafonable that he fhould 
 have made fuch a compound Being as Man, 
 in whom the fpiritual and Angelick Na- 
 ture is vitally blended and combin'd with 
 that of a Corporeal Animal. This, I fay, 
 
 is
 
 IMMORTALITY of the So UJL. 
 
 is reafooable to believe, if we obferve the 
 Subordination of the different Kinds of his 
 Creatures, and the gradual Afcent from the 
 loweft to the higheft, contriv'd with fuch 
 admirable Art, that it is difficult to aflign 
 the Limits where one Species ends, and 
 another begins. Some rais'd above inani- 
 mate Things poflefs only a vegetable Life. 
 The next Order are Infefts, whereof fome 
 befides a Principle of Motion, have a low 
 fenfitive Perception, imperfeft organica! 
 Frames, and are of fhort continuance. 
 Others have more Senfation, more perfeft 
 Bodies, and a greater Principle of Lo- 
 cal Motion, but in" various Degrees, and 
 of various Duration. The Clafs above 
 ,this is that of brute Animals, which have 
 fenfitive Perception, Appetites, and Local 
 Motion in a Superior manner, but de- 
 ftitute of Choice and Reafon: If now 
 from this Rank of irrational Animals, we 
 fhould ftep immediately into the fuperior 
 World of Angels and immaterial Spirits, 
 would there not appear a great Chafm 
 and want of that Subordination and Con- 
 nexion, which the wife Creator has ma. 
 nifeftly obferv'd in the gradual Afcent, 
 from the inferior to the higher Ranks of 
 his Creatures ? And is it not congruous 
 and fuitable to his Steps and Progrefs in 
 Creation, and very becoming his Divine 
 * Wifdom,
 
 334 dn Ess At u$Wi the 
 Wifdom, that before we go from feeafts td 
 Angels, that Gap Ihould be fill'd up, and 
 the ordinary Gradation be maintain'd by 
 a Species of Creatures, that are partly one 
 and partly the other, that is, Mankind* 
 who by their participation of both Na- 
 tures, beautifully preferve the Connexion 
 between the Animal and the Spiritual An- 
 gelick World ? If then the fupream Caufe 
 is able and willing to produce an imma* 
 terial Mind ; and if it becomes his Wif* 
 dom, and is agreeable to his Providence 
 and the Rule and Manner of his acting, 
 to embody fuch a Mind in a corporeal 
 Frame, one may fafely conclude that his 
 Creature Man is fuch a Production. 
 
 ANOTHER Moral Argument for a 
 Future State, may be deduc'd from the 
 joint Contemplation of the Divine Good- 
 nefs. 
 
 THE Author of this wide and magnifi- 
 cent Theater of the World, did not att by 
 a Neceflity of Nature, in producing his 
 wonderful Works, otherwife he muft al- 
 ways have exerted his utmoft Energy and 
 Art, and had given Exiftence to no Crea- 
 tures but thole of the higheft Perfe&ion, 
 who approach'd neareft to his own Divine 
 Nature j but he has fhewn himfelf a free 
 * and
 
 IMMORTALITY/ the SOUL. 335 
 
 and arbitrary Agent, by creating Beings of 
 infinite Variety ; all which) tho diftinguifh'd 
 by different Degrees of Excellence, arc 
 perfect in their Kind, and by their Con* 
 nexion and regular Subordination to each 
 other, confpire to produce the Symetry, 
 Beauty, and Harmony of the whole. And 
 tho fometimes there appear Deviations and 
 Errors in the Production of fublunary Be- 
 ings, which are call'd the Sport or Play of 
 Nature diverted from her firft Intention ; 
 yet this happens but to a few Individuals, 
 while the Kind is preferv'd regular and 
 compleat. Now all this wonderful Di- 
 verfity of Creatures arrive at a finifh'd 
 State ; Stones and Minerals, Vegetables and 
 Animals, by degrees, grow up to the Per- 
 fe&ion of their Species ; But this cannot 
 be affirm'd of Man, who in this Life ne- 
 ver arrives at confummate Felicity. The 
 moft learned Philofopher knows nothing 
 of the Works of Nature, in comparifon of 
 what he is intirely ignorant. The moft 
 Pious and Devout will own they are very 
 defe&ive, and come vaftly fhort of that 
 height of Vertue, at which they aim. 
 All forts of Men complain of Delufion 
 and Difappointment ; when by prudent 
 Schemes and induftrious Application they 
 have attain'd the PofTeflion of Wealth or 
 Power, or Pleafure, for which they con- 
 tended,
 
 336 An ESSAY ufon the 
 
 tended, they are fo far from acquiring the 
 Reft and Satisfaction they expefted, that 
 they renew their Purfuits after the fame 
 Enjoyments with as great Vehemence as 
 before. Place a Man in any Circumftan- 
 ces which himfelf fhalldefire, he willftill 
 be uneafy. The Indies will not fatisfy 
 the avaricious Mifer, nor the vafteft Em- 
 pire the ambitious Monarch. Vain Man 
 imagines, that in the tempting Object which 
 he now fecks, he fhall find his Happinefs ; 
 but when he poflefles it, the beautiful 
 Phantom mocks his Embraces, and proves 
 in his Arms an empty Cloud. The World 
 is a Scene of unfatisfy 7 d, complaining Men ; 
 for fuch are the Faculties and Capacities 
 of Human Nature, that no Objects here 
 cancompleatly gratify them. Hence juftly 
 is infer'd a Future State of Life, where 
 Man fhall attain the Felicity and Accom- 
 plifhment of his Being; for otherwife the 
 Author muft be deficient in Wifdom, Be- 
 nevolence, or Power, who has made an 
 intelligent Creature, that he either is un- 
 able, or unwilling, or knows not how to 
 carry on to PertecYion. And he that by 
 this Argument is induc'd to believe a Fu- 
 ture State, will foon embrace the Opinion 
 of the Soul's Immortality, 
 
 THE
 
 IMMORTALITY 0/ffc SOUL. 357 
 
 THE next Medium I (hall ufe to de- 
 monftrate the Soul's Immortality, (hall be 
 drawn from the Truth and Faithfulnefs of 
 the fupreara Lord and Governor of all 
 Things. 
 
 IT has been already provM, that this 
 Article of Belief has been univerfally re* 
 ceiv'd and profefs'd by the Race of Man- 
 kind in all Ages of the World ; nor can the 
 different Opinion of fome impious Philo- 
 fophers among the Gentiks^ and the S*ddu>* 
 cees among the Jews, before- mention'd, or 
 a few modern irreligious Perfons, any more 
 invalidate this AfTertion, than the appear- 
 ance of fome irregular and deform'd Pro- 
 d uftions can be pleaded againft the com- 
 mon Courfe of Things, and the general 
 Cuftom and Law of Nature ; for tho par- 
 ticular Individuals have been fo ftupid as 
 to maintain, that the Soul perifhes with 
 the Body and mingles with common Mat- 
 ter, no more to be reviv'd ; yet Human 
 Nature was never fo infatuated, as to fuf- 
 fer this malignant Contagion to fpread far 
 among the Species. From the beginning 
 of Time none ever read, or heard of a 
 Nation of Epicureans, Sceptich, or Saddu* 
 cees, who disbeliev'd a Future Exiftence; 
 which muft therefore be an Opinion efta- 
 Z blilh'd
 
 338 An E s s A Y ufm the 
 blifli'd by the general Confent of Maa- 
 
 IT is very certain that Juvenal, Cicero, 
 Plutarch, Epitfetas, and many other Mora- 
 lifts, have aflerted, that many defperate 
 Malefactors, tho they efcap'd the Cogni- 
 zance and Sentence of'tbe Magiftrate, have 
 however been arraign'd and cpndemn'd at 
 the fecret Tribunal of Confcience in their 
 own Breafts, and that Mankind in gene- 
 ral, reflecting on their Guilt, felt inherent 
 Terror and Remorfe, and lay under tor- 
 menting Pangs and frightful Apprehenfi- 
 pns of Divine Anger and Future Suffer- 
 ings. They believ'd there was a Place of 
 Punifhment, where the Gods, by feveral 
 \vays, did execute their Wrath on impi- 
 ous Criminals ; where Furies, Wheels, 
 Vipers, and Vultures, a fad variety of Pain 
 and Vengeance, tormented the Unjuft and 
 Irreligious : While, on the contrary, it 
 was their Opinion, that good and vertu- 
 ous Men fhould, after Death, forget all 
 their Sorrow, ceafe for ever from their 
 Labours, and beconvey'd to Seats of Hap- 
 pinefs and endlefs Delight. And the 
 Hopes and Expectations of this Future 
 Felicity, irifpir'd them with the love of 
 Piety and fober Manners, and excited them 
 to undertake many illuftrious and heroick 
 
 Aftions,
 
 IMMORTALITY of the SOUL. 
 
 Actions, that in the next Life they might 
 attain the Favour of the Gods and the 
 Reward of Vertue. Since then by this 
 Principle of the Soul's Immortality, Man- 
 kind have been mov'd and guided in their 
 Actions, and this has been the chief Foun^ 
 dation of Religion and Vertue in the 
 World, I thus argue, That Principle or 
 Article of Belief, Hy which God has actu 
 ally governed the Race of Mankind from 
 the Beginning of Time, cannot be falfe * 
 Now it is evident, that God has actually 
 and conftantly governM the World by this 
 Belief and Expectation of a State of Im- 
 mortality to come, and therefore that Prin* 
 ciple muft certainly be true : For ftnee 
 Mankind in all Times have been acted 
 upon and excited by Arguments and Mo- 
 tives drawn from a Future State of Life, and 
 the Supream Being has all along ruled the 
 Minds of Men by the Bejief and Expecta- 
 tion of Immortality ; if notwithftanding 
 this there fhould be no fuch State, then 
 it will neceflarily follow, that God has gc- 
 vern'd the rational World in all Ages by a 
 Falfhood and a meer Delufion. And thus 
 to mock Mankind and act upon their 
 Paffions by an imaginary and feign'd State 
 of Life in another World, is inconfiftent 
 with his perfect Truth and inviolable Faith- 
 fulnefs ; and yet, if this impious Abfar- 
 Z a day
 
 34 ^ n ESSAY upon the 
 
 dity be ndt fwallow'd, a Future State muft 
 
 be ailow'd as certain. 
 
 I F it be objected, that tbe Supream Be- 
 ing does not rule the Minds of Men by 
 the Expectations of Rewards and Punifh- 
 ments in another Life, but only permits 
 Men to deceive themfelves ; I anfwer, Firft, 
 that .the Perfons who thus deceive them* 
 felves, if indeed they are deluded, have 
 always been the wifeft, the moft vertuous 
 and excellent Men ; for the Truth of which 
 Aflertion I appeal to the Hiftory and Ob- 
 fervation of all Ages. Now it is not con- 
 fident with the Honour and Faithfulnefs 
 of the Divine Being, to fuffer thofe who 
 inoft refemble his own excellent Nature, 
 and do him the moft eminent Service, to 
 be conftantly mov'd by a Delufion, to do 
 thofe Aft ions by which they drive to imi- 
 tate, ferve, and pleafe him. 
 
 AND from hence may be form'd a ftrong 
 Argument againft thzScepticks, with whom 
 I am engag'd in this Difputation ; for to 
 any Man that reflects with Attention, it 
 will appear incredible, that if the Immor- 
 xality.of the Soul be an imaginary and 
 .falfe Notion, that a God of infinite Good- 
 iiefs and Love to Mankind fhould not, by 
 his. gracious Providence, proted Men of 
 
 Wifdom,
 
 Wifdom, Piety, and Vertue, that bear the 
 neareft Conformity and Similitude to his 
 own PerfeHons, and are moft obedient to 
 his Laws, from conftantly falling into this 
 Error, of believing a Future State, while 
 the vileft and moft flagitious Part of Man- 
 kind, whom from the perfect Purity of his 
 Nature his Soul abhors, fhould be in- 
 Jighten'd in this important Point, difoover 
 the Truth, and efcape the great Miftake 
 of the Soul's Immortality. It will be diffi- 
 cult to tell what is inconfiftent with the 
 infinite Goodnefs of the Supream Being, 
 and his Regard and Benevolence to good 
 Men, if this Suppofition we have made 
 be reconcil'd to that Divine Attribute. 
 
 FROM the Juftice of God I thus argue, 
 Thofe who believe that the Creator is 
 likewife the Lawgiver and Supream Judge 
 of the World will agree, that Man is an 
 accomptable Creature, and that one time 
 he muft appear before the high Tribunal 
 of this Sovereign, to be abfolv'd or con- 
 demn'd, and rewarded or punifh'd for his 
 Obfervance or Contempt of the Divine 
 Laws. Now, as in Faft, there appears 
 nothing in our prefent State like an equal 
 Diftribution of Rewards and Punifhments, 
 fo it is impoflible that a Man can be 
 brought to an Accompt for the Aftions of 
 2 bis
 
 A IE S S AY -jp00 lf 
 
 hi* Life, ttfl hfe Life is ended. While w 
 txift here we are under a State of Tra 3 !, 
 fior -tan it be judgM wfeether we have 
 toe Our Btfty till the Term Of our Pro- 
 bktiofi is 433CpirM ; feemg then it cannot be 
 decided how any Maw has-paTs^ the Courfe 
 of his Life, ttli Defctfa ^i 1 ^ an end to it, 
 atid yet fometime < -other *he 'muft conre 
 tipon his Tria-l, it is end<efit, that there 
 mull be a State of Life Afe* tfcis, in which 
 the Moderator and Judge of the World 
 wftl wndicat-e the Honour atid Juftice of 
 Ms Government, by an impartial Sentence 
 a ; fl Men, according to t?*eir paft J>e- 
 
 I F it appears by the Reafons which I 
 &'irffa fbrt?ieScju?sItri'mOTta^ry, that 
 thei<e is 'but a bare Pr-ofoafoirlity o*f a Fu- 
 ture Exiftence; t^e Irfei^nce will 'be ftrong 
 and evident, tfeat it 'is the Duty a'fid Inte* 
 reft of every Man to -ar^t in Conformity 
 to 'this Opinion, and fo -to tenean himfe ; lf 
 tte he may be 'happy, and not miferaible, 
 in this Etern&irStatethat ds 4Mly to 'come. 
 FTDT fince'this Tranfient Ltfe in Duration K 
 btft a Moment compar'd w.it?h vaft Bter- 
 ftity, all Men who can reflect, wfll pro- 
 ntJonoe it highly reafonable, that fince the 
 Difproportion between this ^fleeting Life 
 snd endlefs Ages is fo immerffe a<nd uncon- 
 
 ceivable,
 
 IMMORTALITY of the SOUL. 343 
 
 ceivable, every one fhould be mov'd and 
 govern'd by the probable Profpeft of E- 
 verJafting Happinefs and Mifery, rather 
 than by the Pleafures or Sufferings in 
 this State of Mortality. And this is 
 what is conftantly praftis'd by wife and 
 confederate Men, who in various In- 
 ftances part with fome Things of Value, 
 only from the Hopes of reaping a far great- 
 er Advantage ; if it be prudent in the Affairs 
 of this World, thus to govern our Afti- 
 ons, then we are evidently more oblig'4 
 to negleft the Enjoyments of this World, 
 from a probable Expectation of unlimited 
 Felicity. Now if this be a clear Diftate 
 of Reafon, that a Man fhould, in the Courfe 
 of his Life, be influenc'd by an Opinion 
 of the Soul's Immortality, then he is bound 
 by a Law of Nature, which is nothing 
 elfe but the Will of the Supream Being, 
 reveal'd to Man by the Light of Reafon 
 for the government of his Actions, fo to 
 regulate his Life, as if he were weUalfur'd 
 of a Future State. Hence it will clearly 
 follow, that if there be but a bare Proba- 
 bility of a Life to come, that the Author 
 of our Beings has made it our Duty to aft 
 in conformity to that Opinion. And fince 
 by his infinite Perfections he is uncapable 
 of deceiving his Creatures, and making it 
 their Duty to aft upon imaginary and 
 1 4 grounfl-
 
 3 44- dft E s s A Y ufm the 
 groundlefs Views, may not the Certainty 
 of the Soul's immortal Duration be hence 
 infer'd ? 
 
 OBJECTIONS again/I the 
 IMMORTALITY. 
 
 AGAINST the Immateriality, and con- 
 fequently the Immortality of the Soul, 
 fome fuperficial Philofophers, and loofe 
 Wits their Admirers, bring this Objection, 
 That an incorporeal Subftance implies a 
 Contradi&ion ; fo Mr. Dryden fays it ap- 
 pears to him, in a Dedication to Sir Charles 
 Sedley : And if thefe Gentlemen had vouch- 
 faf'd to have given any Proof of their Pp- 
 fition in a Matter of fuch Importance, it 
 could by no means have been look'd on as 
 an unbecoming Condefcenfion. How it 
 came to pafs that they thought they fhould 
 be believ'd upon their bare Aflertion, with- 
 out offering the leaft Evidence, I mull ac- 
 knowledge I cannot imagine, 
 
 IT is plain, that thefe low Pretenders to 
 Reafon take the Idea of Subftance and 
 Matterfor the fame, looking on thofe Words 
 as Synonymous ; and if it werefo, it would 
 plainly follow, that an incorporeal Body 
 would beaninconfiftent Conception,and one 
 
 Term
 
 IMMORTALITY of the Soui^ 345 
 
 Term would deftroy the other ; but why will 
 they x produce no Argument to evince the 
 Truth of their Opinion, and make it ap- 
 pear that all Subftance is Body. In this 
 Difcourfe the Exiftence of a Deity, ihe 
 Maker of all Things, is fuppos'd to be 
 granted; and unlefs they infift, tfyat the 
 Supream Being is a Material and not a 
 Spiritual Subftance, then the Idea of an 
 Incorporeal Subftance has nothing in it ab- 
 furd and impofiible, as I have had an Oc- 
 cafion to mention before. And fhould it 
 be granted, that the Soul is a Corporeal 
 Being, yet this would not hinder but that it 
 might ftill be Immortal ; for if their Mafter 
 Epicurus or Jriftotle are of any Authority 
 in this Debate, it is evident, that both 
 thefe look'd on the Gods as Corporeal, and 
 yet affirm'd they were Eternal. And if 
 thefe Gentlemen, their Followers, allow a 
 Corporeal Deity, they will notwithftanding 
 grant that he is Immortal. But there is no 
 reafon to carry this Argument farther; for 
 what is advanc'd with great Confidence, 
 but without Proof, ought to be rejected as 
 unworthy of an Anfwer. 
 
 ANOTHER Objection to the Doftrine 
 of the Immaterial and conCequently Incor- 
 ruptible Subftance gf Human Souls, is this, 
 that the Souls of Brute Animals are Incor- 
 * poreal,
 
 346 'An E s V Y upon tfa 
 
 poreal, and notwithstanding are not Im- 
 mortal, but are allow'd to be of a perifh- 
 ing Nature- It has been the almoit uni- 
 verfal Opinion of Men of Learning and 
 celebrated Judgment in paft Times, that 
 the Bodies of Brutes were enliven'd by a 
 vital Principle of a fuperior, Nature to that 
 of Matter. And thofe ingenious Corfu feu- 
 UriAns, r who of late thought fit to revive 
 and polifli the obfolete and decry'd Hypo- 
 thefis of Democritu6 and Epicurus, and will 
 not allow to Brutes an incorporeal, vital 
 Spring of Senfation, feem rather to affect 
 a Sport of Wit and Imagination, than a 
 folid Scheme of Philofophy. 
 
 I MUST acknowledge, that I look upon 
 the Souls of brute Creatures as Immaterial ; 
 for I canoot conceive how an internal Prin- 
 ciple of Sensitive Perception and Local 
 Motion can be fram'd of Matter, tho ever 
 fo fubtile and refin'd, and modify 'd with the 
 moft artful Contrivance. And I challenge 
 the raoft accute Philofopher to afiign any 
 fpecifical Character, that will efTentially 
 diverfify and diftinguifh an Animal from 
 a Watch, a Puppet, or any other curious 
 Engine, if the vital Principle that informs 
 the Animal be not Incorporeal ; for the im- 
 plex Contrivance, the curious Difpofition 
 and Minutenefs of the Parts, will by no 
 
 means
 
 lMMORTALlTTtf/>e SoUL. 
 
 means vary the Species ; fi Clock of the 
 fmalleft Size, with wonderful Diverfity ttf 
 minute Springs and Movements, and great 
 Variety of lafting Motions, docs not differ 
 in Kind from t plain one of the largeft 
 pi-mention, that lias but one fimple Mo- 
 tion and that of fhort Continuance. 
 
 WH ENCE it will follow, that 
 krg to the Philo&phy of the Atomifts, and 
 their manner of accounting for fenfitive 
 Opera tronsby the Impuhe of outward Ob- 
 jeds made upon the Organs of the Body, 
 and the Collifion, Conflid and Rea&fon of 
 Matter upon Matter, an Animal is no- 
 thing elfe but an admirable Machine an<3 
 a curious Invention, rfiat imitates exactly 
 the Principle of Senfarton in Man ; but in 
 reality is nothing but an ^xcelfcnt Fiece-of 
 Mechanifm, that reprefents and mimrcks 
 in a furprizing Manner the Perceptions of 
 Human Souls : and indeed the Imitation 
 is fo perfect, tihat w-e may be as rare that 
 a Beaft has as real Senfation, as w are 
 that any other Men bedes -our fclrcs arc 
 endow'd with that Principle: For what 
 can be al'ledg'd to demonftrate the Truth 
 of ether Mens Senfation, whidh 1 my ielf 
 do not feel, than what will as effe&uahy 
 prove, that Brute Animals are likewrfe ien- 
 fitive Beings, the Operations of foch Powers 
 
 being
 
 348 An ESSAY upon tie 
 
 being as fully evident as they are in Man, 
 and often more perfect ? 
 
 THO the Souls of Brute Animals are 
 allow'd to be Incorporeal, yet they are 
 plainly of a bafe and low Nature, and 
 deftitute of thofe intellectual Faculties 
 and free Choice that fhould make them 
 Subjects of Moral Government, enable 
 them to difcern the Obligation of Laws 
 and the Diftin&ion of Vertue and Vice, 
 and underftand the Notion of being an ac- 
 comptable Creature,and receiving Rewards 
 and Punifhments. Hence it follows, that 
 they are entirely incapable of the Felicity 
 of a Rational Soul in the Fruition of the 
 Divine Being, whom they are unable to 
 contemplate, love, admire, and adore: and 
 from this it is evident that the Author 
 and Lord of Nature has fignify'd his 
 Will, that he does not intend them for 
 perpetual Duration, in thatSenfe which we 
 mean, when we fpeak of the Soul's Im- 
 mortality, that is, its eternal Continuance 
 in a State of Happinefs or Mifery ; for to 
 what purpofe can it be fuppos'd, that the 
 Souls of Brutes fhould be deftin'd to endlefs 
 Duration, if after the DifTolution of the 
 Body they have no Faculties, Capacities, or 
 Operations, like thofe of the Soul of Man, 
 that can give them the like Delight and 
 Felicity? BUT
 
 BUT I anfwer, in the fecond place, 
 That fuppofing the Souls of Brutes are 
 Immaterial, and that they continue after 
 Death, fince they are endow'd with no 
 nobler Principle than that of Senfation, 
 and fince that muft depend upon the ufe 
 of proper Organs, it being impoflible to 
 conceive an Idea of Seeing and Hearing, 
 if one divefts it from ks Relation to an Eye 
 or an Ear, it will follow, that the Souls of 
 Brutes after Death, muft remain inactive 
 and infenfible, for want of thofe neccfTary 
 Organs by which they exerted their Ope- 
 rations when vitally united to the Body, 
 on whofe Frame and Difpofition it was 
 -wholly dependent in its Actions. 
 
 BUT whether the Animal Souls in a 
 State of Separation remain ftupid and 
 afleep, or whether they are difpers'd thro 
 the Creation and employ'd to animate o- 
 ther Beings, or return to one common Ele- 
 ment whence they were at firft deriv'd, is 
 unreveal'd ; but this is certain, that, which 
 ever of thefe is true, the Souls of Brutes 
 are not defign'd by the great Creator for 
 fuch a Life of Pleafure and Happinefs as 
 that of Human Souls in a State of Im- 
 mortality and Perfection, for the Enjoyment, 
 of which they have no Difpofitionsand Ca- 
 pacities,
 
 350 Jty ESSAY ufm the 
 pacifies. And tho we (hould not be able 
 ckarly to account for the Nature of Brute 
 Animals* and bow their Souls are difpos'd 
 of by their Maker after Death, yet our un- 
 certainty in this Point will by no means 
 weaken the Force of thofe Dernonftratiems 
 that have been produe'd for the Immorta- 
 lity of Human Souls. 
 
 /} :: ; ^ zj.: 
 
 IT is farther ObjeQed againft the Im* 
 mortality of the Soul, that it plainly relies 
 in its Operations on the Temper and Dif- 
 pofmon of the Body ; that its Faculties are 
 exerted with different Degrees of Vivacity 
 and Perfection in the feeble State of In- 
 fancy, the Vigor of Youth and the Decays 
 of old Age; that they are fufpended or dU 
 fturb'd by Sleep, and quite fubverted by 
 Lunacy or the ftroke of an Apoplexy ; that 
 they are enfeebled by languiihingSicknefs, 
 and interrupted by Fury and other violent 
 PafTions ; and therefore muft be allow'd to 
 be dependent on the Body which it ani- 
 mates. To this I anfwer, that during the 
 vital Complication of the Soul and Body, 
 the firft ufes the inftrumental Affiftance of 
 the laft ; but this docs not prove that the 
 fuperior efTential Faculties of the Mind are 
 incapable of exercifing their Operations in 
 a State of Separation ; for thofe do not de- 
 pend on Corporeal Organs, as the Principle 
 * of
 
 IMMORTALITY of the SOUL. 351 
 
 of Senfation does ; what mechanical Frame 
 is necetfary to Underftanding, Reflection, 
 Argumentation, and Memory? What fe- 
 cret Wheels, what Re-active and Elalftck 
 Springs and Movements communicate to 
 the Soul its Self determining Power, or Li- 
 berty of Will ? Can the organical Con- 
 trivance be explain'd, by which a Man is 
 fram'd a Moral and Religious Animal ; by 
 which he difcerns the Beauty of Vertue 
 and the Turpitude and Danger of Vice, and 
 by which he is mov'd to aim at the Ftlicity 
 and Perfection of his Nature, in his Refem- 
 blanceand Fruition of theSupream Being? 
 It cannot be deny'd, but thefe Operations 
 may be perform'd without the Body, fince 
 our Conceptions of thefe does not, like that 
 of Senfation, include the Idea of any ma- 
 terial Organ to which they relate ; and 
 therefore tho the Objection proves a vital 
 Union of the Soul and Body, it cannot be 
 thence infer'd, that the fuperior Faculties 
 of the Mind are incapable of acting in a 
 State of Separation. 
 
 A N
 
 . 
 

 
 OQQ3OOQQQQOOOQQOOOOOOQQQ 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 
 
 A a AN
 
 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 
 
 T would have been an ac- 
 ceptable Performance to the 
 World, if the Gentlemen 
 of the prefent Age, who 
 own a Caufelefs Supream 
 Being, but do not acknow- 
 ledge the Authority of Revelation, and 
 the Divine Inftitution of the Chriftian Re- 
 ligion, yet at the fame time complement 
 one another with the refpeftful Titles of 
 Philofophers and Maflers of unprejudic'd 
 Reafon, had publiQj'd a Scheme of Natu- 
 ral Religion, or a Syftem of thofe Laws 
 which all Men, who believe the Exigence 
 A a 2 of
 
 356 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 of a Deity, are bound to obey ; arid had 
 (hewn whence thofe Moral Obligations 
 arife, and by what Sanctions they are eri- 
 forc'd ; which, in the Preface to Creation, I 
 have urg'd them to attempt: Had they 
 done this, they would not only have wip'd 
 off from their Character all fufpicion of 
 Impiety, and have demonftrated that they 
 did not, to avoid that infamous Imputa- 
 tion, flicker themfelves under the Profef- 
 fion of Deifm ; but they would likewife 
 have a&ed an honeft part in refpeft of 
 thofe Perfons, whom with great Art and 
 Induftry they labour to convert from Chri- 
 ftianity to Paganifm. For fince from our 
 native Degeneracy the Difficulty of pay- 
 ing Obedience to the Rules and Precepts 
 of the Redeemer, and not the Articles and 
 Myfteries of Belief, is the moft frequent 
 Caufe why Men at length renounce his 
 Religion ; thefe Apoftles of Infidelity, 
 that with great Diligence ftrive to replant 
 the World with the exploded Dodrines 
 of the Heathen, ought to acquaint their 
 Difciples with the whole Scheme of their 
 Antichriftian Maxims, and not promife 
 to deliver them only from the hard and 
 abftrufe Points enjoin'd to be belie v'd, 
 while the harder and more difagreeabk 
 Vertues ftill remain to be praftis'd, which 
 is the molt difcouraging Difficulty in the 
 
 Chriftian
 
 LAWS </ NATURE. 357 
 
 Chriftian Syftem. Thus while the Unbe- 
 liever, to engage the Chriftian on his 
 fide, undertakes to eafe him in Points of 
 Faith, he conceals, out of Ignorance or 
 Defign, thofe Moral Duties which the 
 Deift is oblig'd to, as well as thofe who 
 own a ReveaPd Religion. 
 
 THERE is great Reafon to believe, that 
 many are induc'd to renounce the Chriftian 
 Religion by a falfe Notion, that if they 
 are free from the Reftraints of its Precepts, 
 they fhall enjoy a more extenfive Liberty, 
 be lefs control I'd in the Courie of their 
 Actions, and being deliver'd from the 
 Striclnefs and Severity of Manners which 
 that Divine Inftitution enjoins, they may 
 gratify their Paflions, and indulge their 
 Senfes, without Guilt and Fear of Punifh- 
 ment. But thefe Perfons fhould confider, 
 that there is nothing new in the Chriftian 
 Inftitution, but Matters of Faith. There 
 are no new Vices forbidden, nor new Ver- 
 tues commanded ; the Prohibition of the 
 one and the Injunctions of the other are 
 again indeed enforced by Revelation, but 
 without that, we are by the Moral Law 
 under the fame Obligations, and the fame 
 Confinements. And 'tis obfervable, when 
 the Scriptures recommend Chaftity, Tem- 
 perance, Juftice, and Mercy, they never 
 A a 3 give
 
 358 A E s s A Y uftM the 
 give any Definition of thofe Vertues, but 
 barely name them, fuppofing the World 
 was acquainted with their Nature, and 
 that the Obfervance of them, as well as 
 the Forbearance of the contrary Vices, were 
 the Dictates of the Light of Reafon, and 
 the Refuk of the Moral Nature of Things. 
 It is in vain therefore to reject the Chri- 
 ftian Religion, in hopes of being deliver'd 
 from the Restraints it lays upon us ; for 
 we (hall {till lie under the fame Limita- 
 tions from the Laws of Nature, whofe 
 Obligations will ftick infeparably to us, 
 and make us altogether as much ac- 
 comptable. And to make this evident, I 
 have undertaken to demonftrate the Obli- 
 gations we are under by thofe unwritten 
 Laws. 
 
 I N profecuting this Defign, I fhall firft 
 make it clear, that in Faft: there are fuch 
 Moral Obligations, which are term'd Laws 
 of Nature. And, Secondly, that thefe 
 Laws necefTarily arife from the various 
 Relations between God and Man, and de- 
 rive their binding Force from Divine Au- 
 thority. In order to this, I fhall fhew 
 what thofe Relations are, and in what they 
 are founded ; and then fhall demonftrate 
 how the Laws of Nature or Moral Duties 
 fliuft unavoidably refult from thofe relations. 
 
 BE-
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 35? 
 
 BEFORE we enter upon this Province, 
 it is neceitary to obferve, that the Aflert- 
 ors and Patrons of Impiety ufe this Ex- 
 preflion, The Law of 'Nature, in an equivo- 
 cal Senfe, arid mean by it nothing but the 
 Order and Courfe of Things, or the Se- 
 ries and Connexion of Caufes and Effe&s 
 in the vifible World ; as, for inftance, the 
 Diurnal and Anriual Revolution of the Sun, 
 the Circular Motion and various Appear- 
 ances of the Moon, the Propenfion of heavy 
 Bodies to defcend and of light ones to rife, 
 the Flux and Reflux of the Sea, and the like 
 Phenomena, are faid to be the Laws of 
 Nature, as indeed they are in a Phyfical, 
 tho not in a Moral Senfe ; that is, the 
 Author of all Things has made that Dif- 
 pofition and Connexion of active Princi- 
 ples and paflive Natures, that fuch a Courfe 
 and Order of Events fhall of Neceflity be 
 prefer v'd. But then thefe falfe Philofo- 
 phers and Pretenders to Reafon declare 
 their impious Opinion, that Man is mov'd 
 in the fame manner as Brutes and Inani- 
 mate Beings, by a necefTary Impulfe, and 
 will not allow the Deity to rule his Ra- 
 tional Creature according to his Nature, 
 and in as high and honourable a way as 
 the Civil Magiftrate governs his Subjects, 
 that is, by a Rule prefcrib'd to their Affi- 
 Aa 4 ons.
 
 360 An E s s AY upon the 
 
 ons. 'Tis plain, that by the Laws of Na- 
 ture as they regard Mankind, thefe Men 
 do not mean the Precepts or Commands 
 of God, fignify'd and directed to a Moral 
 Agent, one capable of determining him- 
 felf to Compliance or Difobedience, which 
 is the only Senfe in which I take the Ex- 
 preffion. 
 
 I s H A L TL now undertake to evince, that 
 there really are Moral Obligations, which 
 we term Laws of Nature. 
 
 THAT the Power we have over pur 
 Actions is bounded by natural Limitations, 
 which make it our Duty to do fome Things 
 and to forbear others, antecedent to the 
 Authority of Human Laws, is a Truth 
 confirmed by the general Confent of Man- 
 Ikind. Men feel in their Breafts a fecret 
 ? enfe of Religion and Vertue ; and when 
 they aft in conformity to the Rules of 
 Piety and Juftice, they are rewarded with 
 an inward Pleafureand Satisfaction : And, 
 on the contrary, when they violate thofe 
 Precepts by enormous Tranfgreflions, they 
 are ftartled by Reflc&ion on their Guilt, 
 and fili'd with Remorfe and Terror. And 
 this the Pagan World, who had not the 
 Advantage of Revelation, did always ac- 
 knowledge. Juvenal^ in the beginning of 
 
 his
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 361 
 
 his thirteenth Satire, affirms, " That every 
 " Man is difpleas'd with himfelf for be- 
 " ing the Author of an evil Action, and 
 " that guilty Perfons are condemned by 
 " their own judicial Sentence." Cicero, hi 
 his Book of Laws, fays, Furies purfite and 
 torment the Wicked, not with fabuL-ws Fire- 
 brzttds, but with the jftnguife of Conscience 
 and Tortures of inward Guilt. And in ano- 
 ther Book he affirms, That a, Mind, confcious 
 of Wickednefs, is tormented with the Expeflt- 
 tion of dl kinds of Puntfiment. 
 
 IT is the univerfal Opinion of Mankind, 
 that Humanity, good Nature, Benevolence, 
 Gratitude, Modefty, Friendfhip, and Hero- 
 ick Zeal for the good of our Country, are e? 
 minent Vertuesand the Ornaments and Per- 
 fection of our Nature. And are pot Infa- 
 Jence, Pride, Impudence, Ingratitude, Cruel- 
 ty, Avarice, and a narrow Self-interefted Spi- 
 rit, as much condemn'd and detefted ? On this 
 Subject Cicero thus argues, "If Juftice is 
 " not eftablifh'd by the Law of Nature, all 
 u Vertue is gone; where would Libera- 
 " lity, where would Chanty, where would 
 " Piety, where vvould Benef5cence an4 
 " Gratitude Exift ? If only the Fear of 
 " Punifhment from the Magiftrate, ancj 
 " not its evil Nature and Turpitude de- 
 ^ tcrs us from a flagitious an4 wicked 
 
 '
 
 362 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 " Life, no Man could be vicious or tm- 
 " juft : Nor could a Man fo properly be 
 
 call'd Wicked, as Unwary. If, 
 
 fays he, the Laws of the People, the De- 
 " crees of Princes, the Determinations of 
 " Judges, conftitute the Goodnefs of our 
 " A&ions ; then would it be lawful to rob, 
 " to commit Adultery, to forge Deeds and 
 *' Teftaments, if thefe fhould be autho- 
 " riz'd and approv'd by the Voices of the 
 " ruling Multitude ? But can the Power 
 " of ignorant Men change and invert the 
 " Nature of Things ? If fo, they might, 
 " by a Law, make Good Evil, and Evil 
 " Good. If in Rome there had been no 
 " written Law againft a Rape, in the 
 " Reign of Tarquin, would not therefore 
 " Tar^um have offended againft the Eter- 
 " nal Law, when he offer'd Violence to 
 " LucretiA? There was in this Cafe a 
 " Diftate of Nature, which did not then 
 " begin to be a Law when it was firil 
 " written, but was Coaeval with the Di- 
 " vine Mind ;" and therefore he calls it 
 the Law of the Supream God : And fays 
 farther, That the Laws of the Civil Ma- 
 giftrate are then good, when they bear a 
 Conformity to the Law of Nature ; other- 
 wife they are no Laws. 
 
 PLATO
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 363 
 
 PLATO prepares the People to be good 
 Subjects, by inculcating on them the Ob- 
 ligations they are under by the Laws of 
 Nature, to yield Obedience to the Civil 
 Magiftrate. And Cicero in imitation of him, 
 expreflfes himfelf in this divine manner : 
 " Let Citizens be firft perfuaded that there 
 " are Gods, who are Lords and Gover- 
 " nors of all Things ; that all Things are 
 " adminifter'd and directed by their Wif- 
 " dom and Providence ; that they obferve 
 M what every Man is, what he does, and 
 " what he entertains in his Breaft ; with 
 " what Temper of Mind, and what De- 
 " votion he pays Divine Worfhip; and 
 " that they make a Diftintion of the 
 " Pious and Impious: And then fays, Who 
 " will deny thefe Opinions to be ufeful, 
 " when he reflects how many Things are 
 " confirmed by a folemn path, how much 
 " religious Leagues contribute to our Safe- 
 " ty and Advantage ; how many are re- 
 " duc'd from Wickednefs by the Fear of 
 " Divine Punifhment, and how facred the 
 " Society of Citizens muft be, while they 
 u look on the Immortal Gods both as 
 " Judges and WitneiTes of their Deeds ? n 
 This acknowledgment of a moral Diftinc- 
 tion between Good and Evil, and the Fear 
 of Divine Difpleafure and Punifhment from 
 
 enor-
 
 364 An ESSAY upon tie 
 enormous Guilt, is fo univerfal, that many 
 affirm Divine Laws are born with os, 
 are written in our Hearts, and, as Qictro 
 fpeaks, implanted in our Nature. 
 
 THE Legiflative Authority of Civil 
 Magiftrates cannot extend to the Secrets 
 of the Heart, which fall not under their 
 Knowledge and Obfervation ; and therefore 
 they do not pretend to prefcribe Laws to 
 regulate our internal Aftions. If then we 
 are under no Limitations from any Divine 
 Precepts, we have an abfolute and un- 
 control'd Dominion over our Thoughts 
 and Paflions, and are accomptable to no 
 Tribunal for any fecret Tranfa&ions of the 
 Mind. And hence it will follow, that no 
 Obliquity, no Guilt, no Difhonour can 
 attend any Emotions of the Heart, tho it 
 is indeed the Source and Spring of all Mo- 
 rality. Exceflive Anger, Malice, Hatred, 
 Envy, Ill-will to our Neighbour, fecret 
 Joy at the Ruin of our Benefactors, or 
 the Misfortunes of our Country, or the 
 Deftrudion and Calamity of Mankind, 
 would be innocent and la\yfu,l : Ambition, 
 Pride, Haughtinefs, Sielf-ad miration, Con- 
 tempt and Scorn of others, Avarice, Dif- 
 fimulation, would not deferve the leaft 
 Blame or Reproach. But was any Na- 
 tion ever knowa fo flupid and barbarpus, 
 
 as
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 365 
 
 as to believe there is no Turpitude, nothing 
 to be cenfur'd or detefted in fuch Paflions 7 
 Have not the Heathen World exprefs'd 
 their Abhorrence of them ; and the more 
 civilizM and enlighten'd they were, did 
 they not the more condemn and inveigh 
 againft them ? Have not the wifeftofthem 
 left excellent Writings, wherein they per- 
 fuade and excite Men to the Government 
 of the Paflions, and lay down Rules and 
 Directions by which they may attain this 
 Perfection ? Were not Socrates, Ptato, Ari- 
 ftotle, and Pluttrch, Cicero, Seneca, Antonine^ 
 and Epitfetus, befides many others, famous 
 for their Instructions on this Head of Mo- 
 rality? And if the fecret Operations of 
 our Minds and the Regulation of our 
 Thoughts, the Reftraint of our Appetites, 
 and the Conduci of our Paflions, are Mo- 
 ral Duties, they muft be denominated fuch 
 from the Obligations of Divine Commands, 
 that is, from the Laws of Nature. 
 
 ALL Laws muft be the Laws of fome 
 Perfon inverted withLegiflative Authority; 
 and therefore if there be any antecedent 
 to, or befides thofe of the Civil Magiftrate, 
 they muft be the Precepts of theSupream 
 Being. I muft acknowledge, that the Mo- 
 ral Goodnefs and Beauty, the Wickednefs 
 and Deformity of Actions, which fome 
 * great
 
 36,6 An E s s A Y ufm the 
 
 great Divines derive from the intrinfick 
 Nature of Things, without any Confide- 
 ration of a Law that commands or pro- 
 hibits them, is what I am not able to con- 
 ceive. The DiftinSion of Good and Evil 
 feems to me to refult from the Difagree- 
 ment or Conformity of our Actions to the 
 Precepts that enjoin them. If there be no 
 Law, where is Difobedience ? If no Rule, 
 where is Error or Deviation? If no Li- 
 mits prefcrib'd, where is Tranfgreflion ? 
 I believe, upon Examination, it will ap- 
 pear, that all the celebrated intrinfick 
 Good and Evil Things which is faid to 
 be unalterable and eternal, without any 
 regard to their being commanded or for- 
 bidden, muft be taken in a phyfical Senfe ; 
 and fo Things are term'd Good or Evil, 
 as they are advantageous or hurtful, ufe- 
 ful or prejudicial to Mankind. But this 
 Convenience or Inconvenience, Comodity 
 or Difcomodity of Things, is not their 
 Moral Rectitude or Obliquity, which of 
 Neceffity includes the Notion of a Law 
 obferv'd or tranfgreis'd. 
 
 THUS having fhown that there are 
 Divine unwritten Laws, to which all Men 
 ought to yield Obedience, I fhall now de- 
 monftrate their Authority and obligatory 
 Force, and Ihow in particular what they are. 
 
 THE
 
 LAWS <?/ NATURE. 367 
 
 THE Exiftence of a God and the Ad- 
 miniftration of his Providence, I have al- 
 ready aflerted and prov'd in another Wri- 
 ting, which likewife has been done by 
 many excellent Philofophers and Divines. 
 I fhall therefore take this Propofition, An 
 Eternal, Uncreated Mind, of Infinite Power, 
 Wifdom, and Goodmfs, the Maker of Hea- 
 ven And Earth, does exift, as fufficient- 
 ly evinc'd and granted; which fhali 
 now be the Principle whence I under- 
 take to deduce my following Gonclufi- 
 ons. 
 
 WHOEVER acknowledges the Being 
 of this Independent and Self-exiftent Caufe 
 of Things, will eafily difcern the various 
 Relations between God and Man, which 
 flow neceifary and immediate from this 
 Principle. 
 
 IF the Origin of Human Nature is de- 
 riv'd from God as the firft Efficient, it fol- 
 lows that Man is related to him as his 
 Creature, and he to Man as his Creator. 
 And fince 'tis a plain Contradiction, that 
 there may be a felf-fufficient, indepen- 
 dent Creature ; for then it muft be grant- 
 ed, that the Supream Being has made a 
 Creature equal in Perfeftion to himfelf, 
 
 that
 
 368 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 that is, another God, the Confequerice 
 will be, that a Man who has a precarious 
 and fupported Exiftence is related to his 
 Maker, as the continu'd Caufe of his Be- 
 ing, and his Confervaton The Ideas of 
 Creator and Preferver, of neceffity in- 
 clude thofe of good Will and Beneficence : 
 Whence the Inference will be clear, that 
 Man is related to his Divine Author, from 
 whom he has received all the Enjoyments 
 and Perfections of his Being, and to whom 
 he owes their Continuance, as his chief 
 Benefador. It will alfo be an undeniable 
 Deduction from what has been laid downy 
 that God is related to Man as his fole Pro- 
 prietor ; no Maxim being more eafily and 
 mores univerfally allow'd than this, That 
 what any one has entirely made is entirely 
 his own, and no Right in any Workrnan- 
 fhip can poflibly be fo full and extenfive 
 as that of a Creator. 
 
 AND whoever reflects on the Nature 
 of Man$ as endow'd with Reafon, and a 
 Faculty to will and chufe, whereby he 
 becomes a Moral Agent, will pronounce 
 him capable of being govern'd by Laws ; 
 and if he contemplates the Attributes of 
 the Divine Being, his Almighty Power, 
 Omnifcience, Goodnefs, and Omniprefence, 
 will, without hefitation, conclude, that 
 
 God
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 369 
 God is perfe&ly qualify'd to be his Gover- 
 nor; and that he only is capable of go- 
 verning the whole Race of Mankind : 
 And if he confiders his abfolute Propriety 
 in Man as his Creature, he will clearly 
 difcern the Right he has to exercife Do- 
 minion over him. The Creator then by 
 giving Man Faculties to know and dif- 
 cern his Will, and making him apt 
 to be mov'd to Obedience by Hopes 
 of Reward, and deter'd from Tranf- 
 greflion by Fears of Punilhment, has 
 made him a governable Creature; and 
 fince it cannot be fuppos'd he gave him 
 thofe Faculties in vain, nothing can be 
 more agreeable to Reafon, than to con- 
 clude, that God intended and defign'd that 
 Man fhould be govern'd according to his 
 Nature ; that, is, as an intelligent and ra- 
 tional Being ; And fmce every one has a 
 Power to rule his own, as far as his Pro- 
 priety extends, and the Supream Being 
 has an unlimited Propriety in his Crea- 
 ture Man, and is likewife capable, only 
 capable, of ruling the whole Species, it will 
 moft evidently follow, that God is related 
 to Man as his Governor, and Man to him 
 as his Subicft, 
 
 AN D if Man is fubjeO: to his Maker, as 
 
 his Sovereign Lord and Ruler, 'tis clear, 
 
 B b that
 
 370 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 that he muft be an accomptable Creature, 
 and that his Creator is the Judge to whom 
 he muft accompt; who will one Day 
 bring him before his juft Tribunal, and 
 condemn or acquit, reward or punifh him 
 according to the Meafure of his Obedience 
 or Tranfgreflion. 
 
 THERE have been many warm, but 
 unneceflary Difputes manag'd by learned 
 Men, about the Title of God to his Go- 
 vernment of Mankind ; but laying afide 
 Terms of Ait, and avoiding Oftentati- 
 on of Learning and a difputing Temper ; 
 from what has been faid, I imagine, the 
 Divine Title, or the Foundation of God's 
 Right to rule by his Laws the Rational 
 World, will eafily and clearly appear. His 
 Relation to Mankind as univerfai King, 
 that is, his Soveraignty or Supream Power, 
 refults from his abfolute Propriety in his 
 Creature. Man is his own, becaufe he 
 made him ; and fince he is made a govern- 
 able Being, his Maker, as his abfolute un- 
 limited Lord and Owner, muft have the 
 fole Right or Authority to govern him. 
 So that this Point, that has made fo great 
 a ftir, and exercis'd fo many Pens, does 
 not feem fo abftrufe and difficult. I think 
 it is very plain, that the Divine Right of 
 Supream Government is founded in, and 
 
 refults
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 571 
 refults from God's plenary Propriety, in a 
 Creature apt and qualify 'd for Subje&ion 
 and Obedience ; and this Government he 
 has ever exercis'd, and continues to do fo, 
 by making and declaring Laws to regulate 
 the Actions of Men. 
 
 Of tfo LAWS of NATURE, bow 
 promulgated. 
 
 SINCE it is clear, that God is the Go- 
 vernor of Man, 'tis as clear he muft 
 govern him by Laws, that is, by Rules 
 that fettle his Duty. Let us therefore 
 enquire what thofe Laws are, and how 
 made known to Mankind. 
 
 IN order to this it muft be confiderM, 
 that a Law in general is nothing elfe but 
 the Will of the Legiflator declarM to hi* 
 Subjecl, as the Rule of his Actions. This 
 is a full Definition, and tho the Sanctions 
 of Rewards and Punifhments are ufualiy 
 annex'd, which by acting on our Hopes 
 and Fears enforce the Observance of the 
 Lawgiver's Command, yet is it no eflen- 
 tial part of the Law ; for the Will and 
 Pleafure of the Soveraign Ruler, when made 
 known, conliituces the Duty of the Sub- 
 iecl, and binds h.m to obey. 
 
 Bb 2 THE
 
 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 THE Threats and Promifes fuperadded 
 are only Incitements to the Subjeft to pay 
 that Obedience, which before by virtue 
 of the Lawgiver's Authority he was oblig'd 
 to do. 
 
 COULD it be fuppos'd that God had 
 made no Laws for Man difcernable by the 
 Light of Nature, that is, deducible by Rea- 
 fon abftracYmg from Revelation ; Man being 
 intirely free from Reftraints would have an 
 unlimited Power over hia Adions, and there 
 could be no fuch thing as Religion in the 
 World ; no Obligation on Princes to protect, 
 or on Subje&s to obey : No Duty from Pa- 
 rents to Children, or from Children to Pa- 
 rents : No Friendship, no Juftice, no Faith- 
 fulnefs ; in ihort, no Moral Diftindtion of 
 Good and Evil. Man would be unable 
 to Sin, and utterly uncapable of Guilt, or 
 of recommending himfelf to the Favour or 
 Good Will of his Maker by Obedience ; 
 and thefe are the Maxims which irreli- 
 gious Philofophers would fain eftablifb. 
 But it will appear, that God has not in 
 this cafe left himfelf without Witnefs, nor 
 Mankind without proper Means to difco- 
 verthe Divine Will concerning their Duty. 
 A confcious tho imperfect Light ftill re- 
 mains in degenerate Nature, by which 
 
 Men
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 373 
 
 Men difoern a difference between Vertue 
 and Vice, the Regularity and Obliquity 
 of their Actions, and by unavoidable Re- 
 flection condemn or applaud themfelves 
 for what they have done. By the Guidr 
 ance of this Light, without the AfEftance 
 of Divine Revelation, many excellent Per- 
 fons in the Pagan World, carefully at- 
 tending to its Dilates, made fuch Im- 
 provements in Moral Knowledge, and fuch 
 Difcoveries of their Duty, that many ftnce, 
 who have en joy 'd the vaft Advantages of 
 Revelation, to their great Difhonour, have 
 fallen fhort of the like Attainments. 
 
 T H o this be the Cafe, if the wifeft 
 and moft vertuous of the ancient Philofo- 
 phers are cpmpar'd with the moft igno- 
 rant and vicious among Chriftians, yet 
 they are infinitely inferior even in Moral 
 Science to our learned and more accom- 
 plifh'd Men. Since the Saviour of the 
 World has publifh'd his Divine Revela- 
 tion, and brought Life and Immortality to, 
 Light, his Followers being inftrufted in 
 his heavenly Doctrines, were the better 
 enabled to difcover the Duties of natural 
 Religion, which otherwife they would not 
 have done but in a very lame and imper- 
 fe& manner ; fo that in this Senfe we owe 
 in a great rneafure the rational Demon- 
 B b ? ftratioa
 
 374 &i ESSAY ufon the 
 ftration of Moral Duties to the Revela- 
 tion in the facred Writings. 
 
 I c o M E now to define a Law of Na- 
 ture, which is- the Will of God fignify'd 
 to Man by the Light of Reafon, as the 
 Rule of his Thoughts, Paflions, Words, 
 and Actions. The Matter of this Law is 
 fomething enjoyn'd or forbidden. Its Ge 
 oerical Difference, as the Schools exprefs 
 themjfelves, is the Legislative Authority 
 of tl*e fupream Being, who has the Right 
 of a Governor to our Obedience. The 
 Divine Pleafure muft be fignify'd or de- 
 clar'd before it becomes a Law ; for no Man 
 is oblig'd to perform any thing impoflible, 
 tohieh he would be, were he bound by 
 Precepts which he had no means to know. 
 The fpecifkal Diftin&ion of it confifts in 
 the promulgation or difcovery of the Di- 
 vine Will by the Faculty of Reafon, by 
 which it is diftinguifh'd from his pofitive 
 Precepts, which are made known by fu- 
 pernatural Revelation. I (hall now un- 
 iki take to fhow, by what Steps and clear 
 Inferences human Reafon may trace and 
 difcern the Origin of our Duty prefcrib'd 
 and dictated by Nature as refpe&ing God, 
 .Man himfelf, and his Neighbour, 
 
 MAN,
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 375 
 
 MAN, as an intelligtnt Being, has the 
 Power of perceiving the Truth of a firft, 
 felf-evident Principle, to calculate, com- 
 pare, and by inferring one Propofition from 
 another, to form a coherent Train of Con- 
 clufions. By virtue of this Faculty he can 
 contemplate God, as a caufelefs, indepen- 
 dent Mind, and therefore All-fufficient in 
 himfelf; and as the Author of all Beings 
 in the Univerfe, which he created out of 
 Nothing : And then by Force of this 
 Self-evident Maxim, that nothing can give 
 to another, what it has not in it felf- to 
 give, he muft eafily infer, that all the 
 Goodnefs, Energy, Life, and Intelligence, 
 communicated to his Creatures, muft be 
 found in an eminent way collected in this 
 Uncreated, Self-exiftent Mind, who mull 
 therefore be pofleft of all poffible Perfefti- 
 on. It is therefore the Duty 
 of Man to form juft and right F / ur l e of 
 Conceptions of his Author, 
 and entertain the moft honourable and e- 
 levated Idea of the Divine Being, that it 
 is poffible for his Faculties by their ut- 
 moft Efforts to conceive. He ought to 
 contemplate, admire, and adore the inef- 
 fable Dignity and Excellence of his Na^ 
 ture : To bow down his Soul in the pro- 
 foundeft Submiifion, at the Thoughts of 
 Bb 4 his
 
 576 An ESSAY ufon the 
 
 his Greatnefs and unapproachable Majefty. 
 To celebrate his Praifes, and magnify his 
 unlimited and independent Power, Wif- 
 dom and Goodnefs; in Converfation with 
 Others to fpeak of him and his glorious 
 Attributes with the higheft Efteem, and 
 iroft religious Veneration. To propagate 
 and fupport the Belief of his Exiftence, 
 and his infinite Perfections: To confute and 
 difcountenance the petulant and prophane 
 Deriders of Religion, and expofe the" un- 
 reafonable Principles of impious Pretend* 
 ers to Reafon and Philofophy. It is evi- 
 dent that this is the Will of God, that we 
 fhould think of him as he is, and not re- 
 prefent him to our felves or others under 
 a falfe Idea. This then is the firft Law 
 of Nature difcover'd by the Light of 
 Reafon* 
 
 THUS much is due to God confider'd 
 in an abfolute Senfe : But if we content 
 plate him under the feveral Relations /He 
 bears to Man, we fhall fee with Adrriira- 
 tion the Streams of Moral Duties refuit- 
 ing, as natural Emanations, from thofe 
 Fountains, and propagating their Branches 
 in diftinft Order and beautiful Variety. 
 
 WHEN a Man reflects, that he hasre- 
 ceiv'd his Exiftence from the Deity, and 
 
 all
 
 LAWS <?/ NATURE. 377 
 
 all the Faculties and Accomplifbments of 
 his Being, he will readily grant that God 
 is his abfolute Owner, as faid before ; and 
 if fo, that it is the Will of God, that his 
 Creature fhould acknowledge his Maker's 
 Right in him, and Dominion over him, 
 as his Proprietor, and his unlimited Power 
 to difpofe of him at his Pleafure ; this be- 
 ing an uncontefted Maxim of right Reafon, 
 that every one may do whatever he pleafes 
 with any thing entirely his own. That 
 Man fhould fubmit himfelf to the Divine 
 Will, and by an humble and abfolute Re- 
 fignation of himfelf, acquiefce with Pati- 
 ence and Content in all the various Dif- 
 penfations of Providence. That he fhould 
 not complain or murmur againft his Lord 
 and Owner, and arraign him as a fevere 
 or unjuft Matter, if he allots him but a 
 mean and narrow Fortune, afflicts him 
 with Sicknefs, LoiTes, and Calamity, fufFers 
 his Eitate to be wrefted from him by Fraud 
 or Violence, or his good Name and Repu- 
 tation to be blemifh'd and violated by the 
 Malice of his Enemies. That, on the o- 
 ther hand, if he is poflefs'd of a plenti- 
 ful Eftate, of Health, Beauty, Power, 
 and Efteem, he (hould acknowledge he 
 owes thefe Bleflings to the Divine Good- 
 Will : That he has but a fubordinate and 
 dependent Right, and -is pofTefs'd of them 
 
 but
 
 378 An ESSAY upon the 
 but in Trull for the Honour, Intereft, 
 and Service of his Soveraign Mafter, to 
 whom he is accomptable for his Manage- 
 ment, 
 
 AND when a Man confiders that God 
 is likewife the Creator of all other Ra- 
 tional, Animate, and Inanimate Natures, 
 and that he upholds their Beings by his 
 conftant Aid and Concurrence, as the uni- 
 verfal Caufe, he will with eafe difcern, 
 that by his Titles of Creation and Con- 
 iervation, he has the abfolute and plenary 
 Right of a Proprietor in all other Things, 
 as well as in Man himfelf. That he is 
 the Supream and fole Lord of the Uni- 
 verfe without Limitation or Circumfcrip- 
 tion, and that all his Creatures are wholly 
 his own. What we mean by faying any 
 Thing is one's own, is perhaps better un- 
 derftood by that fimple Term, as it hap- 
 pens in many other Inftances, than by 
 the moft laboured Definition : A Power 
 to rule and difpofe of a thing at one's 
 Pleafure and Difcretion, is imply'd effen- 
 tialty in the Notion of Propriety, or re- 
 fults immediately from its Nature. 
 
 AND therefore tho the inherent Good- 
 nefs of the Divine Nature inclines him al- 
 ways to do good to Men, and not to treat 
 
 them
 
 LAWS (f NATURE. 379 
 
 them hardly, or make them miferable ; 
 yet however he fhould difpofe of them, 
 they being abfolutely and without Re- 
 ftri&ion his own, they could not juftly 
 complain of any Wrong done them. This, 
 I fay, had been their Cafe, had not their 
 Maker accepted to be their Governor, 
 and thereby declar'd he would rule rhem 
 )by Laws as Rational Creatures ; by which 
 he has fignify'd his Pleafure, that he will 
 not ufe and difpofe of Men as he is their 
 unlimited Lord and Proprietor, but will 
 deal with them as a Magistrate and Judge, 
 and reward and punifh them according to 
 their Submiffion or Difobedience to hi 
 Precepts. 
 
 FROM this Relation of God as uni- 
 verfal Proprietor of the World, the fol- 
 lowing Duties evidently arife ; That we 
 ihould acknowledge his Soveraign and un- 
 reftrain'd Dominion, as he is the Owner 
 of all Things. That we fhould acquiefce 
 and remain fatisfy'd, however it pleafesr 
 him to make the Repartition of States and 
 Kingdoms, to canton the World among 
 his Creatures, and confer Dominion, Pol- 
 feffions, and Honour on whom, and in 
 what meafure he thinks fit. We fhould 
 not be uneafy, or look with an envious 
 Eye on other^ who are Wealthy, Great, 
 
 and
 
 380 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 and Prosperous, tho we fee no Diftinftion 
 of Parts, Vertue, or 'Merit, that fhould 
 entitle them to fuch Advantages, or ever 
 made it probable they fliould be fo happy 
 and fuccefsful : We fhould fit down con- 
 tented with the Diftributipn made by Di- 
 vine Providence, when we confider that 
 our Maker gives nothing but what is en- 
 tirely his own ; and that therefore we re- 
 ceive no Injury from his Conduct. He has 
 Authority to allot to every Individual 
 what Portion of the good Things of this 
 Life he pleafes, and to continue them as 
 long in their Pofleflion as he thinks con- 
 venient; and therefore we fhould not by 
 Fraud or Violence invade the Fences of 
 another's Right. 
 
 THO the Property of Men in refpecl: 
 of God is delegated and precarious, yet in 
 refpecl: of Men it is protected and guarded 
 by the Law of Nature againft the En- 
 croachments of Force and Deceit. This 
 Property is originally founded in the Di- 
 ftinftion or Individuality of Perfons ; for 
 every Particular having a Right to hi* own 
 Life, and it being the Will of God that 
 he fhould maintain and preferve bis Life, 
 he has a juft Claim to fo much a"s is ne- 
 ceflary to attain this end. And this ge- 
 neral Right is fometimes determined by 
 
 feizing
 
 LAWS 0/'NATunE, 381 
 
 ieizing on that which was not appropria- 
 ted or en joy M before ; and that Seizure 
 will give a Man a Title and juftify his 
 PofTeffion ; for by not difpoflefling any o- 
 ther Perfon, he does no body any Wrong, 
 and is therefore a lawful Owner. And 
 this is the Cafe of the Planters of any 
 Country that was not inhabited before, or 
 of thofe who make Settlements on Places, 
 where there is immenfely more wafte and 
 defolate Territory than will fuffice for a 
 few wild and vagrant Natives. Or elfe 
 Property is determin'd by Confent and 
 Agreement, and the Boundaries fet by 
 Compact ; which being done, Man by the 
 Law of Nature, is forbidden and reftrain'd 
 from taking what is another's without his 
 Confent. On the contrary, it is his Duty 
 to aflift and protect his Neighbour againft 
 all Oppreflion and fradulent Encroach- 
 ments, as far as the Rules of right Reafon 
 or the Laws of the Society, of which he 
 is a Member, will bear him out. 
 
 FARTHER, if we confider that God is 
 the fole Author of our Exiftence, and that 
 with his conftant and powerful Concur- 
 rence, as a continu'd efficient Caufe, he 
 upholds our needy and dependent Being ; 
 that he beftows upon us out of his free 
 and undeferv'd Bounty, all the Necefla- 
 t ries.
 
 ^8a An ESSAY upm the 
 ties, Conveniencies, and Enjoyments of 
 Life ; that he commiferates our Calami- 
 ties, relieves our Wants, prevents our 
 Fears, fupports our Hopes, and removes 
 or mitigates our Pain and Trouble ; the 
 Inference will be unavoidable, that we 
 fhould efteem and love him as our Fa- 
 ther, our Patron, our Prote&or, and great- 
 eft BenefaQor : That we fhould admire 
 and praife him for his Goodnefs, his gra- 
 cious Difpofition and Benevolence, and 
 make all poffible Returns that become a 
 grateful Mind to one that has done Us fo 
 much Good ; to whom we are indebted 
 for whatever we pofTefs, and on whom We 
 depend for all Things that we hope to 
 enjoy. That we fhould thankfully ac-* 
 knowledge him as the Author of our flou- 
 rifhing and profperous Condition, and of 
 all the Succeflfes and happy Events that 
 have attended our Induflry and Endea- 
 vours, and fhould employ our Power and 
 Plenty, and Interelr. among Men, for the 
 Honour and Service of our great Bene- 
 faftor. That we fhould rely on his gra- 
 cious Nature and readinefs to do us good, 
 even under the fevereft Difpenfations of 
 his Providence; invoke him in Danger, 
 truft him in Diftrefs, and in the midft of 
 Trouble and Calamity caft upon lym the 
 Burden of our Sorrow ; and by the un- 
 
 fhaken
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 383 
 
 fhaken Belief of his Companion and Good- 
 nefs, and that he is able and willing to 
 relieve thofe that confide in him, as well 
 as from our Experience of his merciful 
 Nature and paternal Pity, we fhould make 
 him our Refuge and the Foundation of our 
 Hope. 
 
 THE Author of Nature has implanted in 
 our Minds fo great a difpofition to be grate- 
 ful, and the Judgment and Determinations 
 of Reafon are fo full and pofitive about it, 
 that nothing which we are obliged to per- 
 form appears fo clear, eafy and reafonable a 
 Duty. Hence all Mankind in all Ages 
 have condemned and detefted Ingratitude, 
 as the moft unnatural, moft unbecoming, 
 and odious Crime *, 
 
 HENCE fome have made it a Queftion, 
 whether a Man does not lie under a Mo- 
 ral Obligation to efteem, love, and praife 
 a Benefactor, without refpeft to any Law 
 or Precept concerning it ; and if it were 
 poflible for me to conceive how there can 
 be any Duty which does not refult from 
 
 * Qua? natie, non Comitatcm non berrigmtarera , non 
 gracum animum, Bcneficiicjue memorem non diligit * 
 Qux fuperbos, quz maleficos qux crudclcs, qux tngrato? 
 non afperuacur, non odit ; C/f. de Lsg, 
 
 t fome
 
 384 Sin Ess AY ufon the 
 forae Command of a Governor who en- 
 joins it, or that any Guilt can be contracted 
 without Difobedience to fome Rule pre- 
 fcrib'd, I think Gratitude would appear a 
 Vertue, and Unthankfulnefs a Crime in a 
 confpicuous manner. But fince it is fo 
 juft, fo natural, and fo laudable a thing to 
 be thankful for good Offices done, and Fa- 
 vours receiv'd ; upon this account we may 
 juftly affert, that it is one of the cleareft 
 and moft early DidatesofReafon ; whence 
 it appears to be a plain Declaration of the 
 Mind and Will of God ; and therefore Gra- 
 titude is a moft evident Law of Nature. 
 
 O/MORAL OBLIGATIONS re- 
 
 fpe<3ing our jelves. 
 
 TCoME now to the Duties which re- 
 fpeft our felves, and (hall eftablifh 
 them on their natural Foundations. The 
 Idea of Creator unavoidably implies the 
 Notion of Goodnefs and Benevolence to 
 his Creatures ; and therefore when we 
 confider him as fuch, that is, as one that 
 wifhes well to Mankind, intends good 
 to them, and defires their Happinefs, we 
 may infer with the cleareft Evidence, that 
 it is his Will that Man ought to do good 
 to Himfelf, and to ufe all Means in his 
 
 Power
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 385 
 
 Power to promote his own Felicity. This 
 Conclufion is with fome a Self-evident 
 Principle, and they look on it as unne- 
 ceflary to prove fo clear a Propofirion, 
 That AH Men fhould do what is beft for 
 themfehes. But I have demonftrated this 
 to be a Moral Obligation, that it may 
 plainly appear that Piety and Happinefs 
 are not only infeparable, but that in EfFeft 
 they are the fame Thing, and diftinguifh'd 
 only by various Modes of Conception and 
 a different Appellation. The affertion of 
 the Schools, that Bonum Morale fund&tur in 
 BOKO Convenient^, that Moral Duty is 
 founded in Convenience, that is, in a Phy* 
 deal Good, is very right, if understood in 
 the Senfe that I have given : That is, when 
 a Man difcerns that any thing is advan- 
 tageous and beneficial to him, that it coa- 
 duces to the Health of his Body and the 
 Quiet of his Mind, to his Improvement 
 in Knowledge, or the Acquifition of the 
 good Things of this Life, he may thence 
 difcover it is the Will ot God he fhould 
 endeavour to attain it by all warrantable 
 Means; and therefore what was hislnte* 
 reft before, now becomes his Duty. This 
 is fo evident that I fhall hereafter take this 
 Propofition as granted, That it is the Will of 
 Qod that Man jhould defire and purfue every 
 thing beneficial to himfelj\ and conducive to his 
 Cc Htp.
 
 986 . <*&> E s s AT upm the 
 Happinefs ; ..and without repeating it of- 
 ten, I (ball ufe this as a Principle of my 
 following Conclufions, and whenever I 
 have fhown that any thing is commodi- 
 ous and promotes his Felicity, I (hall take 
 it as allow'd, that Man is under a Moral 
 Obligation to purfue it* 
 i-bij : b-':. ;v - v.5*' ;f i -isrb ",; "'-i^siq 
 THE higheft Intereft and firft Duty of 
 Man, that refpeds himfelf, is to difcern 
 and make choice of the true final Object 
 of his Happinefs, which can be no other 
 than the Supream Being ; who, to fpeak in 
 conformity to the Manner of Human Con- 
 ception, defignM and intended himfelf as 
 the ultimate End of Man ; and accordingly 
 dignify'd his Mind with Capacities to 
 know, chufe, love, and enjoy his Maker, 
 whence his perfect Felicity would effectu- 
 ally ."refult. It is a pl^in : rhatoifeftatioti of 
 the Will of the Creator^ tKat his Creature 
 fhould aQ: in Conformity and Agreement 
 to the Principles implanted in his Confti- 
 tution, and purfue the Purpofes for which 
 he gave him fuitable Powers and Difpo- 
 (itions. That. Man fhould behave him- 
 feif as becomes a reafodable Being, that 
 he fhould exercife his -Faculties on their 
 nioft excellent and proper Objects, and 
 contemplate, admire, love and adore the 
 .Supream Efficient and final Caufe of all 
 
 Things.
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 387 
 
 Things. That all his Defires, Aims and 
 Endeavours fhould in a due Subordina- 
 tion be directed to his Honour and Ser- 
 vice ; and that the Chain and Connexions 
 of inferior and fuperior Ends fhould be 
 kept unbroken, and never terminate till 
 they reach the higheft, that is, the bleft 
 Creator. That he fhould not debafe the 
 Dignity of his Nature, and proftitute his 
 elevated Capacity, by forming any mean 
 Defigns and Schemes of Life unbecom- 
 ing and unworthy of aBeingendow'd with 
 Thought, Reafon, and a Self-determining 
 Principle, created and qualify'd 'to make 
 his Divine Author his chief Felicity ; for 
 that would be to rob God of his Honour, 
 by feparating his Creature from that 'de- 
 pendence and fubferviency to hlmfelf, in 
 which he has plac'd him, and as much 
 as in Man lies to difappoint him of his 
 Defign in Creation. 
 
 AND it is farther evident, that Man 
 fhould own and chufe the Author of his 
 Being as his chief and ultimate End from 
 this Confideration, That the Felicity and 
 utmoft Perfection of his Nature cpnfifts in 
 this Choice. The fupream Being only has 
 Goodnefs fuitable and adequate to the 
 Faculties of an intelligent Nature, com- 
 menfurate to his vvideft Capacities and 
 C c 2 moft
 
 388 An ESSAY upon the 
 moft extenfive Defires,always prefent and at 
 hand, and lafting and durable as his Being: 
 In fhort, fince the Divine Being only is able 
 and willing to fuccour and fupport him, to 
 prevent his Dangers, relieve him in Di- 
 ftrefs, fupply his Wants, and raife his Na- 
 ture to a State of Perfe&ion, he only can 
 be the final Object and the fupream Good, 
 the PofTefiion of which muft be his Hap- 
 pinefs. 
 
 A N D we are in poffeflion of this fu- 
 pream Good when our Faculties bear a 
 perfect Conformity to his Will, and we 
 attain thehigheft Similitude to the Divine 
 Nature that our own can bear ; which, 
 tho unattainable here, is the reafonable and 
 delighful Expectation of good Men in a 
 Future State of Life ; for when we have all 
 the Knowledge of the Creator which our 
 Underftandings are capable of receiving, 
 we enjoy the Beatifick Vifion ; and when 
 we love him with all the Powers of the 
 Soul, we are in Heaven, or a State of Per- 
 fection. From the Operations of our Fa- 
 culties about their fupream Good, refults 
 that ftrong, ferene, and pure Pleafure, that 
 ineffable Complacency and Fullnefsof Joy, 
 which produce confummate Blifs : and this 
 is what we mean by the PofTeflion or Frui- 
 tion of the Supream Being. 
 
 AND
 
 LAWS 0f NATURE. 389 
 
 AND indeed the fincere and fplid Satif- 
 fa&ion, the iritelle&ual, divine, and fpiri- 
 tual Delights, which proceed from the 
 Pra^ice of Vertue, from a confcioufnefs of 
 having done well, and the felf-applauding 
 Reflection, which all good Men experience, 
 and fome excellent and elevated Minds more 
 fully and conftantly perceive, will convince 
 the Pofleifors, that were thofe Pleafuces per- 
 feel: and without interruption, they would 
 want nothing to make their Happinefs corn- 
 pleat. Tho I have before demonftrated, 
 that God is the ultimate End of Man from 
 the Defign he had in creating him, which 
 could be only to pleafe himfelf ; and have 
 now made the fame Conclufion evident, by 
 (hewing, that he is the fupream Good, 
 the Attainment of which can only confti- 
 tute our Felicity ; yet thefe are in effect 
 the fame thing, and differ only in the Mode 
 of Conception : For the Creator's Defign 
 in making of Man is accomplifh'd, when 
 to his Honour he manifefts his Power, 
 Wifdom, and Goodnefs in the higheft 
 Degree of which our Being is receptive f 
 in which the Happinefs of Man does like- 
 wife confiil. So that the Glory of the 
 Divine Attributes exhibited in the Per- 
 fection and Felicity of Human Nature, 
 mult be the fupream Good and principal 
 End of Man. Cc 3 THERE
 
 39*3 An ESSAY ugon the 
 
 THERE was a ftrange variety of Opi- 
 nions in the ancient Schools of the Greek 
 Philofophers about the Summum ftonum, 
 or fupream Good. Some contended with 
 Vehemence, that nothing could be efteemM 
 Good but what was vertuous; and others 
 warmly difputed for the Goodnefs of o- 
 ttier Things, as Health, Honour, and Pof- 
 feffions. Criero, as Moderator, endeavours 
 to accommodate the Matter, and recon- 
 cile the Parties, by ftating the Controverfy 
 in this manner : Thofe, fys be, who 
 maintain nothing is Good but Vertue, take 
 Goodnefs in a Moral Senfe, and fo their 
 Notion is right; and thole who contend 
 for the Goodnefs of other Things are to 
 be understood in a Phyfical Senfe, as mean- 
 'ing, that fuch Things are convenient, ufe- 
 fi% or advantageous to Mankind; and 
 thus, fays he, their Controversies are more 
 about Words than Things. Another Sed 
 afferted, that Pleafure was the chief Good, 
 which they plac'd in the Indolence of the 
 Body, and Tranquility of the Mind. But 
 it is certain that human Felicity cannot 
 confift in ina&ion, otherwife Men in a 
 Swoon, a deep Sleep, or a fenfelefs Le- 
 thargy, would be extreamly happy. But 
 had their Aflertion been, that Pleafure 
 Vas the fupream Good, and had they made 
 
 that
 
 LAWS 0f NATURE. 391 
 
 that Pleafure arife or refult from confum- 
 mate Piety and Vertue, and the higheft 
 Operations of the Mind endow'd with 
 perfel Faculties,- they had given a good 
 Account of the Happinefs of Man. 
 
 HAVING thus clearly /hewn, that 
 God is the chief Good and ultimate End 
 of Man ; it does as clearly follow, that 
 Man fhould acknowledge and chufe him 
 as fuch. That we fhould prefer him in 
 our Efteem and Defire above all other 
 Things. That we fhould make him the 
 Object of our moft ardent, fincere, and 
 exalted Love. Think on him with that 
 Delight and Complacency with which 
 Men contemplate the Things in which 
 they place their Happinefs ; maintain a fa- 
 cred Commerce and Correfpondence with 
 him; and by imitating his Perfections, 
 ftrive to refemble him ; that from a Si- 
 militude of Natures he may appear mod 
 amiable to us, and we agreeable and plea- 
 fing to him. 
 
 WHEN the Underftanding directs and 
 Approves, and the Will is hVd and de- 
 termin'd in the Choice, of the Divine Be- 
 ing, as the fummum Bonum and the final 
 Objeft ot our Happinefs ; when all .the in- 
 ferior Powers of the Soul, the Paflions, 
 C c 4 ,Appe-
 
 391 An Ess AY ufonthc 
 
 Appetites, and the Senfes, are mov'd and 
 govern'd by the fupenor commanding Fa- 
 culties, in conformity to the Divine Pre- 
 cepts dictated by right Reafon: When 
 this end, I fay, is principally and preva- 
 lently intended in all our Defigns, Aims 
 and Endeavours, and conflantly and regu- 
 larly purfu'd through the whole Series of 
 our Aftions, in all the Stages and Schemes 
 of Life, there arifes in the Mind fuch in- 
 expreffible Satisfaction and Divine Plea- 
 fure, as are far better felt by the PoflefTor, 
 than exprefs'd by the moft lively Repre- 
 fentation of Words. The Tranquility and 
 Delight that flow from the Harmony and 
 moral Rectitude of the Faculties, and pious 
 Emotions of the Mind, are like the Plea- 
 fure and Alacrity which are felt from a 
 Senfe of Life, Health, Strength and Vi- 
 gor, refulting from the Abundance and Vi- 
 vacity of the Spirits in a happy Conftitu- 
 tion of Body. When a Man is confcious 
 that he pleafes the Author of his Being, he 
 cannot fail of being pleas'd with himfelf : 
 when he is fure that he efteems, defires 
 and feeks the Poifeflion of him as the final 
 Objeft: of his Felicity, that he does in a 
 prevalent degree direct his Aftions to this 
 End, and has therefore a reafonable Ex- 
 pectation of acquiring at laft the enjoy- 
 ment of hisWifhes; when, I fay, a Man 
 
 is
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 393 
 
 is in fuch Circumftances, he muft needs 
 be at eafe, and feel himfelf very happy. 
 And thus it appears that Religion is our 
 greateft Intereft, and that Vertue in this 
 Senfe is its own Reward : For what greater 
 Recompence for his good A&ions can a 
 Man ask or receive, than the Perfection of 
 his Nature ? And in what is That to be 
 found, but in the moft religious Regularity 
 of his Faculties, and their pureft and moft 
 exalted Operations towards the Divine Obn 
 jeft of our Happinefs. 
 
 ALL the Goodnefs of Human Nature 
 confifts in its being refer ? d and becoming 
 fubfervient to this great End ; and when we 
 cut off our Relation to the Creator as the 
 final Objeft of ourFelicity,we deftroy ailthat 
 is valuable in our Being, and while other 
 Creatures confpire in conftant Harmony to 
 attain the Ends for which their Natures 
 are fitted and defign'd, and by no devia- 
 tion, relu&ance, or feditious oppofition, 
 diflblve the Union t>r difturb the Tranqui- 
 lity of the Univerfe, degenerate Man only 
 oppofes the Intention of his Creator, and 
 breaks the Connexion and Order of Things. 
 Befides, by making himfelf a deform'd and 
 irregular Part, he grows the Dishonour 
 and Reproach of the Creation, and by 
 eroding the Defign of his Exiftence, he 
 
 antiihi-
 
 594 <A n ESSAY ufon. the 
 annihilates the ufefulnefs of his Being ; and 
 becoming an impertinent and infigniricant 
 Creature, he is in a moral and fpiritual 
 Senfe look'd on as deceas'd,and is numbefM 
 among the Dead. And Is it not more de- 
 firable to lie mould'ring and corrupting in 
 the Grave, than to carry about a putred 
 Mind inter'd in a living Body ? 
 
 NOR do Men by not chufing the Su- 
 jpream Being for their final Good, make 
 themfelves only ufelefs Parts, exorbitant 
 and lifelefs Excrefcences of the World, but 
 they likewife become hurtful and perni- 
 cious ; if they are not for God they are 
 againft him, if they are not his Friends 
 they are his Enemies ; and if they do not 
 promote the End and Purpofe of their Exi- 
 ftence, of necefllty they muft thwart and 
 oppofe it. And what a Figure muft a 
 Being make in the Creation, that declares 
 feimfelf an Enemy to his Maker, refifts 
 and traverfes his Defigns, and as much as 
 in him lies difturbs the Peace and fubverts 
 the Foundations of the Divine Govern- 
 ment? And is it not eafy to fee that fuch 
 Enormities are forbidden by the Dictates 
 and Laws of right Reafon ; and that to 
 avoid them we are oblig'd to efteem, love, 
 and feek the Enjoyment of our Maker as 
 our final Felicity." 
 
 MEN
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 395 
 
 MEN are therefore oblig'd to direft all 
 their Aims and Endeavours to this Mark, 
 and to propofe no Scheme of Life that does 
 not maintain a due Connexion of each in- 
 ferior with the fupream End. 
 
 H E that flops fliort in his Efteem and 
 Love, deftroys his fubordination and de- 
 pendance on his Author, as his foveraign 
 Good and Happinefs; depofes his Lord and 
 Benefactor, and^ advances fomc created 
 Thing, which he values more, and loves 
 better, to his Throne and Dignity; he 
 either idolizes his own Qualifications, or 
 deifies his Gold, or pays divine Adoration 
 to the Pleafures of Senfe. 
 
 A s God is the firft efficient Caufe from 
 whence proceed all the Powers and ope- 
 rative Principles, which are propagated 
 through the long Series of fecond and fub- 
 altern Caufes ; fo likewife he is of necef- 
 fity the final Object, to which, after all 
 their long Circulation and Variety of Mo- 
 tion and Mutation, they muft return : And 
 as in a Phyfical manner all the Beings of the 
 animate and inanimate World, all Energy 
 and ad've Springs confpire to promote this 
 purpofe ; fo the noble Principle of Thought, 
 the Power of Perception and Self-deter- 
 
 mina-
 
 396 An ESSAY ufm the 
 mination in Man, fhould be fubfervient 
 and directed to the fame End. If our 
 Actions therefore do not flow from a pious 
 Principle of Obedience to the Divine ^aws, 
 and are not alfo aim'd and directed to him 
 as our chief Good and ultimate End, let 
 the Matter of them be ever fo fpecious and 
 illuftrious, they cannot pretend to any 
 ^toral Goodnefs, as wanting their relation 
 to the chief End, which is the vital and 
 eflential Principle that quickens and informs 
 them, and whence they are conftitutec} Mo- 
 ral and Religious. 
 
 AND fuppofing the regular Chain and 
 beautiful Connexion of final Caufes is in- 
 terrupted, before it reaches our Divine 
 Author as the ultimate End, not only no 
 Piety, Vertue or Goodnefs will be found 
 in thofe Actions, but on the contrary, they 
 will be morally Evil, being irregular and 
 repugnant to the Rules and Dictates of 
 right Reafon. If my Neighbour careffes 
 me with great Expreflions of Kindnefs, 
 does me good Offices, and conftantly heaps 
 new Favours upon me, but in the mean 
 time has only his own Intereft in view, 
 and intends no good to me, but in the 
 end to make me ufeful to himfelf, can he 
 be accounted my Friend or efteem'^ my 
 Benefactor ? In like manner if a Man by 
 
 his
 
 LAWS ^/NATURE. 597 
 
 his A&ions, which are denominated reli- 
 gious or virtuous only in refpecl: of their 
 Matter, defigns not in the firft place the 
 Honour of his Maker and the Enjoyment 
 of him as his final Happinefs, but prin- 
 cipally feeks fome inferior End, whether 
 Riches, Honour, or the Pleafures of Senfe, 
 can fuch a Perfon be look'd on as a good 
 Man, and fmcerely devoted to the Service 
 of his Creator ? 
 
 THOSE celebrated Heroes and Leaders 
 of Armies, who in their great Undertakings 
 chiefly aim at Fame, Popularity, Pofleffi- 
 ons or Dominion, and do not carry their 
 Defign farther, that is, to advance the 
 Honour and Service of their Divine So- 
 veraign, acquire no Trophies or Laurels 
 but what are the ignominious Marks of 
 their Immorality and want of Piety ; for 
 while impclPd by an irregular Principle 
 they defend their Country againft the 
 Violence and Oppreflion of ambitious 
 Neighbours, and fo far merit the Ap- 
 plaufes of the People, they themfelves 
 break in upon the Frontier of Religion, 
 and encroach on the Rights and Preroga- 
 tives of Heaven. 
 
 W E admire a great Philofopher that is 
 
 able to folve the moft difficult and abftrufe 
 
 * Appear-
 
 598 An ESSAY ufon the 
 Appearances, and with unwearied Appli- 
 cation has fearch'd and laid open all the 
 Springs of Motion, and form'd an admir- 
 able Syftem of Natural Science ; we ap- 
 plaud the Poet, who entertains and in- 
 ftru&s the World with good Senfe and 
 beautiful Expreflion, recreates the Reader 
 with an EflFufion of Wit and Humour, 
 and fhews the greateft regard to Decency 
 and Venue, arifmg from his true Tafte 
 and right Judgment of Men and Things : 
 Nor do we lefs commend the Moralift, 
 who teaches the People the unwritten Pre- 
 cepts of Religion and the Obligation of 
 natural Duties, with clear Arguments and 
 perfuafivc Eloquence ; yet if either of thefe 
 <hiefly aim at Efteem, Honour, and the 
 Reputation of a Man of great Genius, re- 
 fin'd Parts, and uncommon Erudition, he 
 only makes his court to himfelf and com- 
 plements his own Perfections; and tho the 
 Matter of his Actions be ever fo fhining 
 and amiable, yet being perverted from 
 their right End, and principally intended 
 to footh his own Vanity, they become 
 evil and irreligious. I have enlarg'd on 
 -this Subject in the ESSAY upon FALSE 
 VERTUE, to which I refer the Reader, 
 and fhould not repeat any thing here, did 
 not the Ground-work and all the Strength 
 that fupports our Religion and Happinefs 
 
 rely
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 399 
 
 rely on the right Choice of our ultimate 
 End. This is the firft true and neceffary 
 Step in our way to Bleflednefs ; and if this 
 is not taken right, all our Motions, De- 
 figns, and Schemes of Life will not only 
 be an impertinent Train of Errors ; but 
 not having our chief End in view, what- 
 ever we do in the whole Courfe of our 
 AQjons, we (hall go backward and ob- 
 ftruft and oppofe our Duty and Intereft. 
 
 BESIDES, if We afpire after the great- 
 eft Accomplifhment of our Being, which 
 is but another ExprefEon for our contam- 
 inate Felicity, we (hall fee our felves ob- 
 lig'd to contemplate the Divine Nature, 
 and to imitate his Perfections. For fmcc 
 the Notion of a God implies a Poifeflion 
 of all poflible Perfection, the nearer we 
 approach to him, and the greater our Re* 
 femblance of him is, the more exalted muft 
 be our Minds ; and when our Conformity 
 to his Nature is as full and great as our 
 Faculties are capable of receiving, they 
 have then attain'd their greateft Perfecti- 
 on. Hence the imitation of the Divine 
 Purity, Juftice, Mercy, Compaffion, For- 
 givenefs, Patience, and Beneficence, which 
 tend to form in us a God-like Temper of 
 Mind, conduces directly to our compleat 
 Happinefs; and hence the Moral Obliga- 
 tions
 
 400 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 tions to perform thofe Duties is very ma* 
 
 nifefh- 
 
 AN p as our Similitude to the Supream 
 Being in the Exercife of Vertue, raifes and 
 ennobles our Nature, fo it is a neceflary 
 Means to qualify us for the Fruition of 
 him, that is, of becoming Happy; for 
 Love being the Faculty by which we en- 
 joy any Object, if our Natures are wicked 
 and flagitious, they are oppofite and unlike 
 to that of the Deity : And fince the eflen- 
 tial Idea of Felicity confifts in the Delight 
 and Complacency that refults from the 
 pureft and ftrongeft Operations of Love to 
 our Maker, and the reciprocal Senfe of 
 his Benevolence to us, no Man without a 
 Likenefs and Conformity to the Divine Be- 
 ing can poflibly be happy ; and thus too 
 the Obligation of the Moral Duties above- 
 mention'd is very evident. 
 
 THIS Pofition being fully demonftrated, 
 That the Fruition of God by the moft 
 perfect Operations of the Mind, the cleareft 
 Knowledge, the higheft Admiration, and 
 moft intenfe Love, whence Extafies of 
 Joy and Divine Pleafure will conftantly 
 flow, is the chief End of Man ; it follows 
 with the plaineft Evidence, that Man 
 fhould delight himfelf in the Contempla- 
 tion
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 401 
 tion of this Objeft of his Happinefs, and 
 purfue it with the moft vehement Define, 
 and ardent Affe&ion. When any Man, 
 determin'd by an erroneous Underftand- 
 mg and diftemper'd Inclinations, makes 
 fome inferior Good, either Riches or Do- 
 minionj Fame or Pleafure, his fuperior arid 
 prevalent Choice* how amiable does the 
 Idea appear in his Imagination? How 
 eagerly, how conftantiy, and with how 
 much Satisfaction does he revolve it in his 
 Mind? It attends him by Day, accom- 
 panies him to his Bed, and if waking, en- 
 tertains him by Night ; it is the laft Ob- 
 ject of his Evening and the firft of his 
 Morning Thoughts. And if he approaches 
 to a nearer View, and has reafon to be- 
 lieve he fhall, in a fhort time, poflefs his 
 Wifhes ; how charming is the Profpeft ? 
 How chearful is his Temper, and how de- 
 lightful are his Hopes ? In like manner, 
 when a Man has chofen the Author of his 
 Being for his final Felicity, he ought to 
 valuej admire, aod love him with all the 
 Powers of his Soul. To think on him 
 conftantiy, defire him above all Things, 
 applaud, congratulate, and pleafe himfelf 
 with frequent Reflections on his happy 
 Choice ; and from the reafonable Profpecl 
 of attaining his Happinefs, anticipate the 
 Poffeflion by his joyful Expe&ation. 
 
 Dd As
 
 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 A s the chufing our Maker for our chief 
 Good, dire&ly and immediately regards 
 our Perfe&ion and Happinefs, fo the infe- 
 rior Duties which refpect our felves plainly 
 promote the fame End, as they procure 
 the Health of our Bodies, as they have an 
 apparent tendency to make us eafy in our 
 Fortunes, and are conducive to the Content 
 and Satisfaction of the Mind. 
 
 TEMPERANCE and Sobriety in the 
 Ufe of the Pleafures of Senfe, greatly 
 contribute to the Health and Indolence of 
 the Body, and to keep it in an aftive and 
 vigorous Confutation ; and by preventing 
 many dangerous and fatal Diftempers, they 
 prolong Life, as they make it eafy. While 
 the contrary Vices, Riot, Luxury,- and 
 immoderate Gratifications of voluptuous 
 Defires, diflipate and exhauft the Spirits, 
 enfeeble the Body, and fhorten the Days 
 of the inconfiderate Libertine ; who not 
 only brings upon himfelf many wafting 
 Diftempers and Death it felf, but propa* 
 gates and conveys his Difeafes to his Chil- 
 dren, and fettles a fad Inheritance of Pain 
 and Sorrow on his miferable Pofterity. 
 From a right Judgment, that the Vertues 
 above-nam'd greatly conduce to our Health 
 and Eafe, Epicurus, who plac'd all Happi- 
 
 nefs
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 
 
 nefs in the Pleafures of Senfe, prtefcrib'd a 
 modferace and reftrain'd ufe of them, as 
 necefTary to the attainment of that End. 
 
 BESIDES, Sobriety and Temperance 
 promote our Happinefs, by keeping the 
 Spirits lively, the Brain clear, the Imagi* 
 nation free and undifturb'd, by which 
 means the Mind has always apt Inftru- 
 ments for its operations ; while Excefs in 
 eating, drinking, and other Delights of 
 Senfe, weaken, opprefs, and dull the Spi- 
 rits, and fo cloud the Head with Fumes^ 
 or fill it with Pain, that the Exercife of 
 our intellectual Faculties is almeft fufpend- 
 ed ; by which means we are for that Sea* 
 fon degraded and funk to the low Rank of 
 meer Animals, and lofe the Dignity, by 
 lofing the ufefulnefs of intelligent Beings : 
 And if all thofe Breaks and Chafms of 
 Life, which in this Senfe are occafion'd by 
 the Moral Errors of Men, were fum'd 
 up, by a juft Calculation it would appear 
 that their Vices have robb'd them of more 
 Hours than they now imagine. 
 
 MOREOVER, their exceflive Purfuits 
 of voluptuous Entertainments defraud them 
 of a great deal of Time, which might 
 have been happily employ 'd in their ufe- 
 ful Callings ; or if they are Meo- of Lei- 
 D d a fure
 
 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 fure and plentiful Fortunes, in improving 
 and adorning their Underftanding with 
 variety of Knowledge, or managing their 
 Mates, or ferving their Country, and in 
 fhort, in doing much good to themfelves 
 and others* 
 
 THESE Vertues, together with Fruga- 
 lity and Induftry, greatly contribute to 
 the Eafe and Well-being of Men, in pro- 
 curing or preferving their Pofleflions by 
 reftraining their Appetites, and bounding 
 their Pleafures; whilft by a prudent Ma- 
 nagement they fave, and by good Oeco- 
 nomy augment their Subftance, on which 
 their own Comfort and the Profperity of 
 their Families fo much depend. But on 
 the other hand, how does Luxury and a 
 vicious Courfe of Life promote the con- 
 trary Ends? How foon does it ruin a 
 fmall Eftate, and what Havock does it 
 make in the moft plentiful ? And by this 
 Wafte and Diflipation of their Treafure, 
 liow uneafy does it make them in their 
 Fortune ? How often are they pinch'd and 
 ftreighten'd in their Circumftances, and 
 compelPd to ddfcend to mean and fordid, 
 and fometimes evil Pra&ices, to fupport 
 their Expence, and fupply the Demands 
 of their tyrannical Appetites ? Hence their 
 .difconfolate Families are impoverifh'd, 
 
 their
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 405 
 their Children depriv'd of Education and 
 Maintenance, and left to ftruggle with 
 Want and Mifery. 
 
 THAT the Moderation and Govern- 
 ment of the Paflions conduces to the Feli- 
 city of Human Nature, has been allow'd 
 by all the Pagan Philofopher^, who have 
 taught Morality, and fearch'd after the 
 Summum Bonum, or Happinefs of Man- 
 kind; and for this they have left many 
 excellent Precepts. This Duty is indeed 
 abfolutely neceflary to the Peace and Tran- 
 guility of the Mind, without which it is 
 impoiTible to be happy. If violent and 
 exorbitant Emotions, that have (hook off 
 the Yoke of the fuperior Faculties, and 
 are no longer obedient to the Di&ates of 
 Reafon, are convenient, ufeful, or delight- 
 ful, then Storms and Tempefts are more 
 defirable than fair Weather ; and Uproar, 
 Confufion and Diftrar,ion, fhould be pre- 
 fer'd to Peace, Beauty and Order. If un- 
 bridled Anger and brutal Rage do not in- 
 terrupt our Happinefs and abate the Per- 
 fe&ion of our Nature, then a Fever is no 
 Difeafe of the Body, nor a Phrenfy of the 
 Mind. If Pride, Self-admiration, Haugh- 
 tinefs, and an infolent Contempt of others, 
 are defirable Qualities, then to be always 
 difappointed of our End, and to feel the 
 Dd 3 conftant
 
 406 -dn ESSAY upon the 
 
 confhnt Refcfltments of .real or imaginary 
 Affronts, $.qglefc and Injuries,, is to be 
 very happy. Are Envy, Hatred, and a 
 malicious revengeful Temper to be fed 
 and cberifbM,, as not onjy unburtful, .but 
 conducive to our 'Good ? Then to be flung 
 to the .Heart, to be torn to .pieces, and 
 devoured with inward Cares, anxious De- 
 figns and felf-tormenting Thoughts, has 
 been unjuftly reprefented as a miferable 
 Condition. If any Man can ppffibly be* 
 lieve thefe inordinate Paffions are not very 
 painful and uneafy to the Mind, it muff 
 be one who never felt their lawlefs Power, 
 Whoever has experienc'd their Dominion 
 will readily complain, that he has ex- 
 treamly fuffer'd, and been very ill us'd by 
 -thefe unreafonable and cruel Matters. 
 Wrhence it appears, that in order to Hap* 
 pinefs, we are under no lefs Obligations 
 to regulate our Pafifions^ than to reftrain 
 pur Appetites. 
 
 BESIDES,, licentious and ungovern'd 
 Paffions ai;e very prejudicial to the Mind, 
 by clouding the Underftanding, pervert- 
 ing the Judgment, and putting a wrong 
 Biafs on the Will : They raife fuch thick 
 Mills and Egyptian Fogs before the Eyes 
 of our intellectual Guide, that it conftantly 
 Mes irs way, and becomes guilty of the 
 
 great-
 
 LAWS of NATURJE. 407 
 
 greater! Errors. Thefe heady Perturba- 
 tions fill the Mind with Tumult .and Up- 
 roar, affault with Violence the Tribunal 
 of Reafon, compel it to reverfe the Judg- 
 ments and Determinations made in cool 
 Blood, and pronounce new Decrees in fa- 
 vour of the contrary Side. During this 
 Diforder and Infurreftion of the Paflions, 
 the Mind holds unfteadily the Reins of 
 Government, till at laft her Authority is 
 infulted and fufpended ; and in this Inter- 
 regnum, for fo this Interval of Confufi- 
 on may be ftil'd, the Dictates and Ope-. 
 rations of the fuperior Faculties being 
 either fapprefs'd or difregarded, the Man 
 difhonours and vilifies the Dignity of his 
 Nature, and ats like the Beafts of the 
 Field from an unreafonable Principle, and 
 a brutal Inftinft. And if the Violence of 
 Paflion is not arriv'd at fo great a Degree, 
 as quite to fubvert the Exercife of Reafon, 
 yet in whatever Meafure it gains upon 
 us, it will in proportion difable the Un- 
 derftanding, and mifguide the Judgment, 
 whence our Actions will become irregu- 
 lar : Anger, Refentment, and Love rais'd 
 to excefs, by being an over-match for the 
 Prudence and Difcretion even of wife Men, 
 often make them aft below the Superiori- 
 ty and Gravity of their Charater,and bring 
 them down to the ordinary Rank and Level 
 of Mankind. D d 4 THAT
 
 4.08 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 .'.., . - .' -iS.-- '2 
 
 THAT exorbitant and unruly Emotions of 
 the Mind pervert the Judgment, and caufe 
 Diforder and Confufion in the Operations 
 of the upper Faculties, is plain from hence, 
 That when the Tide fubfides and the 
 Storm is blown over, our Minds in this 
 calm and fedate Seafon condemn and re- 
 fcind the Decifions, which, during the 
 Rebellion of the turbulent Paflions, they 
 were mov'd by Violence and Conftraint to 
 make. 
 
 0/MpRAj, OBLIGATIONS 
 
 refpecl to our 
 
 A S to the Duties incumbent on Man in 
 ** his Relative Capacities, their Moral 
 Obligation comes now to be demonftrated. 
 We cannot contemplate the Author of our 
 Being, but we muft conceive him full 
 of Good-Will, and defirousof the Welfare 
 of Mankind ; and he that makes this Re- 
 flection will unavoidably difcern, that it is 
 the Will of his Maker that he fhould contri- 
 bute to the Good of others, and promote 
 their Happinefs. And will further fee 
 himfelf oblig'd to this, if he confiders, that 
 becaufe God wifhes well to Men, and 
 heaps Bleflings and Favours upon them, he 
 
 ought
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 409 
 
 ought to do the fame ; fince he cannot 
 reach the Perfe&ion of his Nature, in 
 which confifts his Felicity, except be imi- 
 tates the fupream Being, as before-men- 
 tion'd. Hence it will appear, that the Go 
 vernment of Families is of Divine Infti- 
 tution, that Parents ought to rule their 
 Children, and Matters their Servants ; that 
 they ought to inftrucl: their Underftand- 
 ings, and adorn them with Divine and 
 Human Knowledge ; to direct their Wills 
 in their Choice, and reftrain their immo- 
 derate Appetites ; to teach them the Go- 
 vernment of their Paflions, and give them 
 all the Advantages of good Education. 
 
 M A N 's Title to this Government arifes 
 from his imperfect Propriety in his Chil- 
 dren, and from his Qualifications for Go- 
 vernment, and theirs for Obedience, as well 
 as from his Obligation to exercife this Au- 
 thority, which he cannot omit without 
 Guilt, proceeds from the fignification of 
 the Will of God, by placing Man in fuch 
 Circumftances and endowing him with 
 fuch Capacities ; as likewife, by making it 
 a neceffary Means to promote the Happi- 
 nefs of Mankind, that Parents fhould rule, 
 inftrud, and provide for their Families. 
 And the like may be faid of Matters in re- 
 fpeQ: of their Servants, tho their Propriety 
 in thefe is in a lower Degree. THE
 
 4 io An. E^, A Y ttgon the 
 
 wi>f?r :'?! oil son?! ; i/jf.'iU 3fit ; .'L- in^ufo 
 ni THE Order of this Difoourfe requires, 
 that I : fhould now enter upon the Moral 
 Obligations that Men are under, confider'd 
 -as Members of a Civil Society, and make 
 <hofe Duties appear which Sovereigns owe 
 to Sutyefib, Subje&s to Soveraigns, or one 
 :Subjecl: to another ; but I have referv'd the 
 -two firft for a diftincl: Dtffertatioo, and 
 cfliall only in this place iafift on the laft. 
 
 " 
 
 i^ 
 
 Of RE^-ATI VE PUTJES 
 
 one SubieS to mother, >rrm 
 
 '' ' 
 
 
 THERE are many Duties from one 
 Member f a Society toanother, which 
 -do mot refuit from Human LaMrs, but flow 
 -immediately from the Fountain of Mora- 
 'Iky, the Light of Reafon. 
 -i\i. '.. '! JiD'j^xa tti noiie^ildO trJ-nioif sr. 
 OF thefel mention'd fevcralin the be- 
 ginning of this Difcourfe, where laflerted, 
 that de facfo there were Divine Laws an- 
 tecedent to all human Authority, and ac- 
 knowledg'd as fuch by all Nations of the 
 World ; and from their Conformity, to thefe 
 Laws, many Qualities or Habits derive 
 their Moral Goodnefs, for Inftance, Hu- 
 manity, Candor, Benevolence, Integrity, 
 and Faithfulnefs, of which the Civil Ma- 
 
 giftrate
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 411 
 
 giftrare is no Judge. I fhall now endea- 
 vour to demonftrate the Natural Obliga- 
 tion we lie under to^exercife thefe and the 
 like Venues. 
 
 ONE Neighbour ,is bound by the Di- 
 ctates of Reafon, to pity the Sufferings of 
 another and to mitigate his Sorrow, to be 
 touch'd by his Misfortunes, and rejoice at 
 his Profperity and Succefs. It is his Duty 
 to fupply his Neighbour's Wants and Ne- 
 ceflities, to acquaint him with his Danger, 
 and give him Affiftance to prevent it ; to 
 inftruct him, if Ignorant, of what relates 
 to his Happinefs, diffuade him from a vi- 
 cious, idle, or pernicious Courfe of Life, 
 and excite him with convincing Reafons 
 and important Perfuafions to embrace the 
 Ways of Religion and Vertue. It 'is his 
 Duty to do him good Offices, to exprefs 
 Affection, Beneficence, and Generofity ; 
 to forgive Unkindnefs, Affronts, ajid Inju- 
 ries, upon the Submiflion and Entreaty of 
 the Offender ; to avoid Envy; Malice, and 
 Revenge ; to love his Neighbour as him- 
 felf, and an Enemy too, as far as to endea- 
 vour to make him a Convert, and pro- 
 mote his Happinefs. All thefe Precepts 
 are the Dictates of Right Reafon, and they 
 are deduc'd from this Maxim, That every 
 Man ought to do to another, as he would 
 
 be
 
 4-12 An ESSAY ufon the 
 be dqne by in the like Circumftances. 
 a hard-hearted and cruel Perfon, who is 
 not touch'd with the Sufferings and Calar 
 mities of another, but fhuts up the Bowels 
 of Tendernefs and Compaflion to his Bro- 
 ther in want and nakednefs, with reafon 
 expeft, that if by the Vicifiitude of Hu- 
 jnan Affairs he himfelf {hould be brought 
 to the like Extremities, that his Neigh- 
 bours fhould exprefs their Commiferation 
 of his Calamity, be troubled for his Mif- 
 fprtunes, and adminifter Comfort and Sup- 
 plies to his Neceflities? Can any Man 
 reduc'd to a low Condition, with reafon, 
 complain of Wrong and Violence, who 
 when in Power and Plenty, opprefs'd 
 his Inferiors, trampled on their Rights, 
 wrefted from them their Goods, and with 
 an iron avaricious Hand griped the Wi- 
 dow and the Fatherlefs ? Can he expeft 
 to be forgiven, who is himfelf deaf and 
 inexorable, and will never pardon ? Can 
 he who delights in Cenforioufnefs and De- 
 traction, in juftice hope that his Honour 
 and good Name fhould be guarded by o- 
 thers ? This Axiom, that every Man fhould 
 fo ufe another as he would be us'd him- 
 felf, is allow'd by general Confent to be 
 a Rule of Action that all Men ought to 
 obferve. And its Reafonablenefs or mo- 
 ral Obligation is clearly deduc'd from its 
 
 Apti-
 
 LAWS 0J NATURE. 413 
 
 Aptitude and Tendency to promote the 
 Welfare and Happinefs of Mankind : For 
 if Men behav'd themfelves in Conformity 
 to this Precept, they would not only for- 
 bear Violence, Oppreflion, and Defamati- 
 on, but would aflift, comfort, and relieve 
 their Neighbours, and protect the Perfons, 
 Eftates, Rights, and Reputation of one a- 
 nother ; and how far this conduces to the 
 common Good and Felicity of Mankind, 
 need not be exprefs'd. 
 
 THUS I imagine I have, with clear 
 and convincing Evidence, demonftrated 
 Morality, and the Diftin&ion between good 
 and evil Actions, according to their Con- 
 formity to or Deviations from the Divine 
 Rule of Right Reafon. 
 
 AND from the fame Principle, and by 
 the fame manner of arguing, the Natural 
 Obligation of other Duties which I have 
 not nam'd, moft of which are more mi- 
 nute and remote than thofe I have men- 
 tion'd, may be deduc'd. By which means 
 a compleat Syftem of Ethicks would be 
 compil'd, and eftablifti'd on the certain 
 Foundation of Divine Authority ; whence 
 Morality and Piety, Vertue and Religion, 
 would appear the fame Thing under diffe- 
 rent Conceptions and Appellations, arifing 
 * from
 
 414 db- ESSAY upon the 1 
 from the fame Spring, regulated by the* 
 fame Divine Will, and refpe&ing the fame 
 ultimate End, the Honour of rhe Supream 
 Being, and the Felicity and Perfection of 
 Human Nature. 
 
 S i N c B by the natural Dictates of Right 
 Reafon it is evident, that the Supream 
 Being is the Governor of Mankind; and' 
 rules, the World by declared Laws ; and 
 fince Judgment is a neceffary Branch of 
 Government, it follows with the cleareft 
 Evidence, that God'> by being the Gover* 
 nor of Man, becomes his foveraign Judge, 
 and therefore will bring to an Accornpt the 
 Creature whom he has made accomptable, 
 and will acquit or condemn^ punifh or 
 reward him in proportion to his Obedi- 
 ence, or Deviation from the Rule of his 
 Aftions. 
 
 ;./i-i-.i ^.tiB n &(!. -f..rn 
 Now it is very plain, that in this 
 Life God erects no Tribunal for the im- 
 partial Diftribution of Rewards and Pu- 
 nifhments ; he, by no folemn Sentence 
 clears the Innocent, or, condemns the 
 Criminal, nor configns them to a State of 
 Happinefs or Mifery, according to their 
 Demeanor ; which I have taken notice of 
 in another Effay. 
 ' 
 
 IT
 
 LAWS 0/ NATURE, 415 
 
 IT has been the Obfervation and Com- 
 plaint of many wife and good Men, be- 
 fides Job and Dwid, that the impious 
 Contemners of Religion, and Men of an 
 immoral and diflblute Life, not only go 
 unpunifh'd in their impudent and enor- 
 mous Vices, but thrive and profper in 
 an eminent degree ; and after a long Life 
 in Health, Plenty, and Pleafure, go down 
 to the Grave in Peace : While, on the o- 
 ther hand, thofe who have exprefs'd the 
 (incereft Zeal for Religion, and deferv'd: 
 well of their Country by their excellent 
 Examples and conftant Courfe of vertu- 
 ous and great Actions, have been defam'd, 
 opprefs'd, and expos'd to all the Suffer- 
 ings and Calamities that the Wit of their 
 Enemies could invent, and their Cruelty 
 inflit. Now to vindicate the Juftice of 
 God, the Honour of his Government, his 
 Love to Vcrtue, and the Purity of his Na* 
 ture ; what can be alledgd but this, That 
 he has referv'd for another World the 
 great Day of Accompt, when all Men 
 fliall appear before his Judgment-Seat, 
 there to be confign'd by an impartial Sen- 
 tence, to a State of Mifery or Happinefs, 
 according to their paft Demeanor. 
 
 AND
 
 E s s A Y upon ike 
 
 AND indeed the Remorfe and Trouble 
 that wicked A&ions leave in the Mind 
 of the Criminal, as well as the Ghearful- 
 nefs and inward Pleafure that follow the 
 f ra&ice of Vertue, very much facilitate our 
 Belief of a Future Day of Accompt. Men 
 who difhonour and vilify their excellent 
 Nature, by overturning the Government 
 and defpifing the Divine Authority of 
 Right Reafon, and fuffer themfelves to be 
 led away and rul'd by their animal In- 
 ftin&s and vicious Paflions, not only re- 
 fled on their Guilt and Pollution with 
 Shame and Diflatisfa&ion ; but more, they 
 are often affrighted with the Apprehen- 
 fion of Divine Difpleafure, fill'd with fe- 
 cret Fears and terrible Expectations of Fu- 
 ture Punifliment. And tho perhaps fome 
 few hard and defperate Libertines, by fre- 
 quent Affronts and Infuks offer'd to their 
 Reafon, repeated Violations of the Laws 
 of Nature and a long Courfe of Vice, 
 have, perhaps, fatally fucceeded in their 
 Attempts, and in a great meafure ftifled 
 their inward Light, and fufpended the Ad- 
 monitions of their Reafon, yet the gene- 
 rality of Mankind, upon their Commiflion 
 of great and enormous Crimes, are haunted 
 with an inward Remorfe, and a dreadful 
 Profpeft of Future Vengeance. 
 
 THIS
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 417 
 
 THIS is fo true, that Epicurus and 
 Lucretius declare, That to free Men 
 from the terrible Apprehenfions of Fu- 
 ture Punifhments, which were inconfiftent 
 with that Eafe and Tranquility of Mind 
 they propounded to themfelves, they in- 
 vented their irreligious Scheme of Philo- 
 fophy. 
 
 O N the other hand, the Men, who by 
 obeying the Dilates of Natural Light and 
 the Divine Canon of Reafon, do Jufhce 
 and Honour to the Rank and Character 
 of intelligent Creatures, when they re fleet 
 on the Rectitude of their Faculties and 
 the Moral Improvements of their Minds, 
 the regular Government of their Paffions, 
 and their vertuous Aftions, not only feel 
 an inward Satisfaction arifmg from that 
 review, but likewife cherifh a delightful 
 Expectation of a fuitable Reward from 
 the juft Governor of the World ; who, as 
 he has made us accompcable Beings, fo at 
 lail he will make a diftinction between 
 obedient and rebellious^Subjecls. Hence 
 the wifeft and beft Men among the Hea- 
 thens nounfli'd in their Minds a comfort- 
 able, tho uncertain Hope of a Future State 
 of Happinefs, and believ'd, that a good 
 Man had great reafon to pleafe himfelf 
 Ii e with
 
 An ESSAY upon the 
 
 with the Opinion of the Favour of the 
 Gods; and that they would, in the end, 
 aflcrt the Juftice of their Government, by 
 appointing a different Iffue to a vertuous 
 and wicked Life, 
 
 IF the univerfal and righteous Gover- 
 nor of the World mutt convene all the 
 Nations of his Subjects before him as their 
 fupream Judge, to reward the diligent 
 obfervers of his Laws, and punifh thofe 
 who liv'd in Guilt and Difobedience ; then 
 it plainly follows, that there muft be a 
 State of Life after ttas, in which all De- 
 grees and Ranks of Men mutt be brought 
 upon their Trial. 
 
 AN D if there be a Future State of Life 
 and a Day of Accompt, it will be a clear 
 Diftate of Natural Light, that Mens Minds 
 fhould be more taken up with the Thoughts 
 of this great Day, and the Confequences 
 of it, than with all the Affairs and Con- 
 cerns of this World. That Men fhould 
 either find out fome way to annihilate 
 their Beings, or conceal their Crimes, or 
 elude the juft and irreversible Sentence of 
 the Supi earn Judge ; or if that cannot be 
 done, to enter upon fuch a vertuous Courfe 
 of Life as will alone avail them in fuch 
 an Hour, and is alone able to fecure them 
 
 from
 
 LAWS of NATURE. 419 
 
 from Divine Difpleafure. If thofe, who 
 conftantly indulge themfelves in fenfual 
 Pleafures, or the Purfuits of Wealth and 
 Power, and never refleft on a Future State, 
 would deliberate and caft Things together, 
 would lay id one Scale of Reafon their 
 prefent uncertain and tranfient Enjoyments, 
 and in the other, the immortal State of 
 Pain and Mifery, which will be the cer- 
 tain Punifhment of their Sin and Folly, 
 they muft be infinitely ftupid, and their 
 Judgments muft be biafs'd and over* 
 power'd to Amazement by the violence 
 of their Paflions, or difabled and blinded 
 by their vicious Habits, if they cannot ,n 
 fuch a Cafe fee where their Safety and 
 Intereft lie. 
 
 EC 2 
 
 A N
 
 A N 
 
 E S SAY 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 ORIGIN 
 
 O F 
 
 CIVIL POWER. 
 
 E e 
 
 AN
 
 ^M/J* wwfp < 
 
 ^.-'wO -.'.. .:..4J*J,*JL-.' --.'.--- 
 
 A 
 
 JL JL .t \ j 
 
 
 
 . . >i o 
 
 1 v j 3 
 

 
 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 ORIGIN 
 
 O F 
 
 CIVIL POWER. 
 
 |ERE Mankind difengag'd 
 from the Obligations and 
 Reftraints of Political Go- 
 vernment , the World 
 would become a deplor- 
 able Seat of Uproar and 
 Confufion ; Cruelty and 
 In uftice, Avarice and Ambition fee at Li- 
 berty, would make the Kingdoms of the 
 Ee 4 Earth
 
 4^4 ^ n Ess AY upon the 
 Earth fuch Scenes of Calamity and Defo- 
 lation, as would more refemble the Habi- 
 tations of falvage Beafts, than the Dwel- 
 liilgs of Reafonable Beings. As the Lives 
 and Eftates of Men in fuch a Cafe would 
 be precarious and always lie open to In- 
 fults and Rapine from a more powerful 
 AggrdTor, fo their Minds would continue 
 baVbarous and uncultivated, without the 
 Improvements of Science, and the Orna- 
 ments of Polite Arts, which are highly 
 beneficial to Mankind. To prevent thefe 
 Evils and advance the Felicity of Man, 
 the Pleafure of the Supream Being, who 
 wifhes the Happinefs and profperous State 
 of his Creatures, is apparent that Men 
 fhould form Societies and inftitute Civil 
 Government. 
 
 t /|As the Divine Being has made Man- 
 kind ibciaple, and fit for Government, fo 
 the Individuals depend fo far upon one 
 another for mutual Afiiftance, and the 
 Supply of each other's Wants, that no 
 Means can be found for their Subfiftence 
 without Political Combinations, where 
 Multitudes of Particulars contribute in 
 their feveral Capacities to the Safety and 
 ; Happinefs of the Whole. If then the 
 -vjite Creator intended the Prefervation 
 Good of Men, he muft like wife in- 
 tend
 
 Origia0/CiviL POWER. 425 
 
 tend the neceflary Means to acquire that 
 End. 
 
 W H E N c E it appears that Men are not 
 at Liberty in this Point, but are under the 
 Obligation of the unwritten Divine Law, 
 to inftitute Civil Communities for their 
 mutual Defence and Concurrence to each 
 other's Benefit. It is true, there is no 
 Divine Command that prefcribes any par- 
 ticular Form of Government into which 
 they fhall enter; but here they are free 
 and unlimited, and only lie under the ge- 
 neral Obligation of doing what is beft for 
 themfelves ; and therefore they are bound 
 to chufe that Species of Government, whe- 
 ther Monarchical, Ariftocratical, or Popu- 
 lar, which, according to their Circum- 
 iknces, they (hall judge moft advantageous 
 and fubiervient to the End of Civil Infti- 
 tutions, that is, the Welfare and Profpe- 
 rity of the whole Society. 
 
 THERE have been abundance of warm 
 but unnecefTary Difputes about the beft 
 Frame of Government ; while fome argue 
 with great Zeal for an Abfolute, Defpotick 
 Power, fome for limited or divided Sove- 
 raignty, and others for a Republican or 
 Democratical Conftitution, in oppofition 
 to both the others. But this is as if the 
 
 Engineers
 
 416 An ESSAY ufm the 
 Engineers fhould fharply contend for any 
 one Plan or Model of Fortification, as ne- 
 ceflary or moft convenient for every Town 
 or Place of Defence, Jet the Difpofition or 
 Nature of the Ground be ever fo unlike. 
 That Form of Government which may be 
 moft ufeful, and therefore moft eligible tp 
 fome Nations, may be very improper and 
 inconvenient for others, who, in refpect 
 of their Situation, their neighbouring Po- 
 tentates, the Temper of the People, the 
 Extent of their Territories, and their Traf- 
 fick and Commerce, are in very different 
 Circumftances. For this Reafon all Species 
 of Government are lawful ; and it is the 
 Duty of Men, if at liberty, to chufe that 
 which is moft expedient, if they have 
 Time to deliberate ; and to do what they 
 are able, if they are forc'd, as it often 
 happens, to huddle up a Constitution in 
 hafte foi* their immediate Security. 
 
 WHEN any Species of Government is 
 chofen and confented to, the Divine un- 
 written Command, that made it the Duty 
 of Men to enter into Societies, will oblige 
 them to pay Obedience to it. i^ 
 
 THE Divine Being, as the Supream 
 Governor of Mankind, and of all Civil 
 Societies, gives to thofe Communities, 
 
 that
 
 Origin ofCi vi L POWER. 
 
 that is, to the governing Part, Authority 
 to make Laws for the Subject, which are 
 as By-Laws in refpeft of the King of 
 Kings ; as thofe of Corporations and Com- 
 panics are in refpeft of the foveraign Ma- 
 giftrate of any Nation. The Commiflion 
 or Charter of the Moderator of the World 
 to human Legiflators, by which they are 
 empowered to make Orders and Rules for 
 the People, is demonftrated from his Pre- 
 cept, reveaPd by the Light of Reafon, 
 that Men fhould form Societies: which 
 cannot be done, unlefs fome or one govern, 
 and the reft are oblig'd to obey ; and if 
 there muft be Governors, they muft be 
 endow'd with Authority to make Laws; 
 for they muft be allow'd a fuflkient Power 
 to perform their Duty, otherwife they 
 would be oblig'd to do fomething impof- 
 fible. This Power they cannot have but 
 from the uncontefted Fountain of all Le- 
 giflative Authority, that is, the fupream 
 Monarch of the World ; for he being the 
 fole> univerfal, and abfolute Lord and Ru- 
 ler of Mankind, it is as impoflible to have 
 the leaft governing Power any other way 
 than from his Charter and Commiflion, 
 as it is for a Conftable, a Juftice of Peace, 
 or Corporation of Men, to pofTefs any 
 Civil Authority but what is communicated 
 to them from the fupream Magiftrate of 
 
 the
 
 ^ 
 
 418 An ESSAY 'upon tie 
 the Country. Let us contemplate the 
 Divine Being as a Governor, and all the 
 People of the Earth as his Subje&s in the 
 great City of the World, and then con- 
 fider particular Kingdoms and Soveraign 
 States, as Parts and Members of his un- 
 limited Empire, and we fhall prefently 
 fee that all thefe Potentates are but his 
 inferior Officers, Delegates, or Vice-roys, 
 and therefore can have no Power but what 
 they derive from their fupream Lord and 
 Magiftrate. Under this View all Princes 
 and Legiflative Powers in this univerfal 
 Monarchy of the World, are fuch infe- 
 rior and fubakern Officers as their own 
 fubordinate Minifters of State, Generals, 
 and Lords Deputies are in refpeft of them. 
 Whence the Demonftration is clear, that 
 earthly Soveraigns being no more than 
 Subjects in this Divine Constitution, can 
 have no legal Authority but what they 
 derive from the fupream independent Law- 
 giver. ThisPofition that appears fovery 
 evident, will ferve to demonftrate many 
 important Conclufions, and therefore I 
 have dlfcufVd it the more largely. But tho 
 it will be allow'd, that the Legiflative Au- 
 thority of Potentates is delegated and de- 
 riv'd from the Divine Being, yet the Mode 
 of Communication or Conveyance of this 
 Power to earthly Monarchsand Magiftrates 
 jsfharply difputed. SOME
 
 Origin 0/CiviL POWER. 429 
 
 SOME deduce the Authority of Princes 
 and States from Adams Paternal Power, 
 which they fay contained likewife that of 
 a Civil Magiftrate; upon which Hypo- 
 thefis that Sovereignty which at firft was 
 only over one Family, as faft as Men mul- 
 tiply'd, extended it felf over all, and the 
 eldeft Father became fole Monarch of 
 Mankind, and were he ftill alive muft be 
 the abfolute Ruler of the whole World, 
 a pretty difficult Province to manage. Up- 
 on Adam's deceafe the Right of Soveraign 
 Power, fay they, defcended to the next 
 of Blood ; and the Patriarchs were the 
 fupream Civil Magiftrates, as well as the 
 Lords and Mafters of their numerous Fa- 
 milies ; and whatever Power any Prince 
 is now inverted with is deriv'd from that 
 of a Father, defcending to him by un- 
 interrupted Succeffion from our firft Pa- 
 rent. This Opinion is attended with great 
 and manifeft Abfurdities, that offer them- 
 felves at firft fight to Men of Reflection ; 
 as for Inftance, that it confounds the No- 
 tions of the Magiftrate's Power with that 
 of a Matter of a Family, and that it makes 
 it impoflible for any Prince to prove his 
 Title to his Crown ; fince it is impracti- 
 cable to deduce the Defcent of Adam's 
 Paternal Power upon him, without which 
 
 he
 
 430 An E s s A t ufon the 
 he has no legal Authority : And fuppo* 
 (ing he could make good his Claim from 
 that pretended Origin of Dominion, he 
 muft by that Evidence have a right to 
 the Government of the World, as our 
 firft Parent had, and all other Rulers would 
 be diverted of their Power, and be ob- 
 lig'd to furrender their Monarchies to the 
 Heir of Adam ; Tho it is true, Princes 
 may be at eafe in the PofFeflion of their 
 Thrones, if they are not interrupted till 
 this Heir be produc'd. But notwith- 
 ftanding thefe and a long Train of falfe 
 Conclufions will follow from this Prin- 
 ciple, which may be feen in one of ouv 
 celebrated Writers, who has fully ex- 
 pos'd this Doftrine ; yet h was once fo 
 much in Fafhion, that Patriarch and Mo- 
 narch were fynonymous Appellations, and 
 thofe who believ'd otherwise, were look 'd 
 on as difafFeded Subjects, and no Ortho- 
 dox Chriftians. 
 
 H ,-; . :.'iii;K?/. ' ' ; ;:i.:n:j lv\" 
 THE unwary Perfons, who with great 
 vehemence propagated this Notion ot the 
 Origin of Dominion, feem'd willing to ex- 
 tend the Power of the Prince to ao abfo- 
 lute and defpotick Degree, fuppofmg they 
 fhould always be able to unfiieath tlie Ma- 
 giftraie's Sword, and with that keen Ar- 
 gument effectually confute all their A ri- 
 ver fanes,
 
 Origin 0f CIVIL POWER. 231 
 
 verfaries, while they were fure to have 
 the Executioner on their fide. Many of 
 thefe exprefs great Reverence to Kings, 
 not as Kings, but as the Heads of their 
 Party, that are ready not only to fecure 
 their Rights, but to augment their Power. 
 And that this is trie Spring whence their 
 Zeal in maintaining thefe Principles pro- 
 ceeds, is very plain ; for when a Prince 
 fills the Throne that touches their Interefts, 
 that is, refufes to be the Vice-gerent of a 
 Fa&ion, and will not employ his Autho- 
 rity as they direct, their celebrated Paflive 
 Obedience becomes aftive Refiftance, and 
 Prayers and Tears are turn'd into Preparati- 
 ons of War and open Rebellion ; and when- 
 ever their Party-Interefts are in Danger, 
 we may always expect from them the 
 fame uneafinefs and oppofition ; for to do 
 them Juftice, I cannot believe they ad- 
 vance the Do&rines that favour Defpotick 
 and Arbitrary Power, with any Defign of 
 enflaving themfelves; but they do it for 
 the Reafons above fuggefted, that is, that 
 they may (hare with the Prince his un- 
 reftrain'd Authority, and opprefs thofe 
 whom they efteem their Enemies. They 
 would be contented that their Monarch 
 fhould be as unlimited as the Emperor of 
 the Turks, or the great Mogul, provided 
 they are his Bafhaws and Mandarines, to 
 * rule
 
 43 2 dn ESSAY ufon the 
 rule the Provinces, and execute his exor- 
 bitant Power ; and without this Limi- 
 tation I believe they are ready to enter 
 their Proteftation-againft abfolute Govern- 
 ment. 
 
 OTHERS make the People the Origin 
 of Civil Authority, and affirm, that each 
 Individual, by giving up into the Hands 
 of one or more Per ions, the Power which 
 they have over their own Actions, and 
 that of Self-Defence againft an Aifailant 
 or Invader, conftitutes the Power of the 
 Magiftrate ; and their Opinion is, that God 
 conveys to Princes and Potentates their 
 Legiflative Capacity by this concurrence 
 and union of all private perfonal Rights ; 
 which Collection, fay they, produces the 
 Publick Right of Governing. Among the 
 AfTertors of this Opinion we find the fa- 
 mous Mr. Hooker , in his Ecc/efiaftical Polity. 
 But neither do thefe rightly account for 
 the Rife of Civil Authority ; fince Perfo- 
 nal and Magiftratical are diftincl: Powers, 
 and the People by this Scheme muft be fup- 
 pos'd to convey to the Magiftrate a Power 
 of governing, which, in my Opinion, they 
 never had to give, particularly that of 
 putting a Subject to Death. On the con- 
 trary, upon Examination, it will appear 
 that God conveys to the iMagiftrate all 
 * his
 
 Origin ofCi vi L POWER. 
 
 his Authority by his unwritten Charter or 
 Commiflion, exprefs'd and manifefted by 
 the Light of Reafon, that is, the Law of 
 Nature. 
 
 I F we confider the fupream Being as 
 the unlimited Ruler of the World, and 
 the numerous States and Kingdoms of the 
 Earth as the feveral Branches or integral 
 Parts of his unconfin'd Empire, in the 
 fame manner as various Provinces and 
 Cities compofe any one of thofe States 
 and Kingdoms ; how can we fuppofe that 
 a dependent and fubordinate Governor can 
 have any Authority in the Divine Mo- 
 narchy, which includes all human Domi- 
 nions, but what muft be dcriv'd from the 
 Head of the Government ? Now God, 
 by the Law of Nature, that obliges Men 
 to enter into Societies for their common 
 Good, declares his Will, that the choferi 
 Magiftrates of each Society fhould be en- 
 do w'd with fufficient Pow'er to difcharge 
 their Duty, and procure the Ends of Go- 
 vernment ; for the Law of Nature that 
 commands the End, enjoins alfo the ne- 
 ceflary Means to attain it. And thus the 
 Commiftion of the Supream Being to hu- 
 man Magiftrates, contlituting their Office 
 and inverting them with Civil Power to 
 execute that Office, is drawn up, ratify'd, 
 Ff and
 
 An ESSAY ufon the 
 
 and publifh'd by the Light of Nature with 
 thp fame Force and Authority, as if it 
 had been convey'd by Revelation. Let 
 us fuppofe, for farther illuftration, that 
 the Moderator of the World had, by a 
 written pofitive Ordinance in a fupernatu- 
 ral way, reveal'd his Will that all Men 
 fhould combine for their common Safety 
 in publick Communities ; that the Magr- 
 ftrates fhould be empower'd by fuch a 
 meafure of his Royal Authority, as will 
 render them capable of difcharging their 
 Truft, and ruling their Subjects for their 
 Good ; That .he left them at liberty to 
 chufe what Form or Species of Govern- 
 ment they thought beft ; and that they 
 might reftrain by Fundamental Laws and 
 antecedent Covenants, the Power of the 
 Monarch if they contented to that Form 
 of Government, and the Monarch con- 
 fented to fuch Limitations ; and that when 
 they had chofen their Magiftrate or Magi- 
 ftrates, he did, as fupream Ruler, declare 
 they fhould be commiflion'd by him as his 
 Royal Deputies and Vice-roys, whom he, 
 their Soveraign, invefted with fuch a de- 
 gree of Authority as fhould enable them 
 to procure the Ends of their Government : 
 would it not then appear very plain which 
 way the publick Magiftrate came by his 
 Civil Power? And fince I have demon- 
 
 fl raced
 
 Origin of CIVIL POWER. 435 
 
 ft rated all this to be the Will of God de- 
 clar'd by the Law of Nature and the Ex- 
 ercife of Reafon, is not this as Valid and 
 Canonical as if it were written and fig- 
 nify'd by Revelation ? When the Free- 
 men of the City of London have, by their 
 Suffrages, chofen their Mayor and Alder- 
 men, who, tho fubordmate to their So- 
 veraign, are the fupream Magiftrates in 
 that Corporation, do not thofe Magiftrates 
 derive their governing Power from their 
 Prince's Charter, or the whole Legiflative 
 Power, if their Charter has receiv'd that 
 Confirmation, and not from the collected 
 perfdnal Power that each Inhabitant cafts 
 upon them ? Suppofe a King of Great- 
 Britain fhould, by a Royal Grant, autho- 
 rize the People of each County to elect 
 their Lord-Lieutenant, or Sheriff, and de- 
 clare what meafure of Power they fhould 
 have when they were chofen ; will the 
 People's Eledion amount to any thing 
 more than a determining of fome Branch 
 of the Regal Authority to fuch particular 
 Perfons ? And when they arc elected, 
 would not the Power they fhould claim 
 and exercile in each County, flow from 
 the Prince's Grant, and not the People's 
 Nomination ? In like manner, if the 
 People of any Country have a Right to 
 eleft their fupream Magillrates, whether 
 F if 2 Princes
 
 An ESSAY upon the 
 Princes or States, that Country being but 
 a Part and Branch of God's univerfal Mo- 
 narchy, when they have nominated and 
 chofen their Magift rates, whether Mo- 
 narchs or Sovereign States, they being no 
 more than inferior and fubordinate Offi- 
 cers in refpeft of the Divine Being, tho 
 fupi earn in refpeft of their own People, or 
 any other earthly Potentate, they muft 
 receive all their Civil Authority from the 
 chief Magistrate, who is God himfelf ; and 
 the way by which he conveys it, is his 
 Grant or Commiflion exprefs'd and figni- 
 fy'd by the Light of Nature, and difco- 
 ver'd by the Exercife of Right Reafon in 
 the manner before explain'd. 
 
 WHEN Men have form'd Civil Socie- 
 ties, which, as has been faid, are fo many 
 Companies and corporate Bodies in the 
 Kingdom or City of the World, whereof 
 God is the unlimited Governor, the Mea- 
 fure and Extent of Power with which the 
 Rulers of thofe Societies are inverted, is 
 prefcnb'd and afcertain'd by the Commif- 
 fion granted them by their Soveraign, 
 which is their Warrant to govern, and the 
 Rule of their Subjects Obedience. As the 
 Lord Lieutenant of a Province, or the Ge- 
 neral of an Army can lawfully exercife no 
 more Power than they are warranted and 
 
 autho-
 
 Origin of CIVIL POWER. 437 
 
 authoriz'd to do by the Com mi (lion of 
 their Soveraigns, no more can thofe So- 
 veraigns who are unckr Officers of State 
 in the Divine Monarchy, tho High and 
 Mighty in their own Kingdoms, claim 
 any JurifditHon, or legally execute any 
 Power but what is contain'd in their Com- 
 miflion. 
 
 I T is then very evident, that as Mini- 
 fters and inferior Magiftrates, for Inftance, 
 a Juftice of Peace or a Lord Lieutenant, 
 cannot bind the Subject to -Obedience, by 
 commanding any thing out of his Com- 
 miflion, and much lefs, if againft the Laws 
 of his Country, which contain the de- 
 clar'd Will of the chief Magiftrate ; no 
 more can the Commands of Princes oblige 
 their Subjecls to compliance in things which 
 are contrary to the Laws of God, the chief 
 Magiftrate. Nor can they reftrain the na- 
 tural Liberty and Power that Men enjoy 
 over their own Actions, if they are not 
 authoriz'd by the declar'd Will of the chief 
 Ruler fo to do, tho there fhould not ap- 
 pear in fuch Commands any contrariety to 
 the Divine Pleafure ; and they are yet more 
 unwarrantable, if they enjoin Things hurt- 
 ful and prejudicial to the Publick ; for fuch 
 Reftraints will exceed the Bounds and Mea- 
 fures of their CommifTion ; and how the 
 F f Subicft
 
 43 8 Aft.. E s s A Y 'ufdn the 
 Subjeft is oblig'd to demean bimfelf in fuch 
 Cafes fhall be afterwards explain'd. 
 
 : v" 1 .; n '" "'"'' *-* Vv* <ii 
 
 " MORAL . OBLIGATIONS on 
 , 'Civil Powers. 
 
 AS the chief Minifters of Kings and Po- 
 tentates, their Judges and other fubor- 
 dinate Magiftrates, are bound to promote 
 the Honour of their Princes ; to maintain 
 the Peoples Efteem of their Perfons and Zeal 
 for theii' Government ; to difcountenance 
 and punifh the Turbulent and Seditious, 
 and protecl: the Loyal and well difpos'd 
 Subject ; fo it is the Duty of Potentates* 
 who are Minifters, Judges, and Delegates 
 of State in the Divine Monarchy, to take 
 care of their Mafter's Honour ; to manage 
 with Induftry and Fidelity his Interefts; 
 to promote and preferve in the Minds of 
 the People, the moft honourable Opinion 
 and the higheft Veneration of his Perfon, 
 and the greateft Efteem and Affe&ion to 
 his Government ; to difcou rage and deter 
 profane and flagitious Perfons ; to fup- 
 prefs and exterminate the Atheift and Blaf- 
 phemer, the impious Scoffer -a'nd petulant 
 Derider of Religion, as the declar'd Ene- 
 mies of Heaven and contumacious Oppo- 
 fers of Divine Authority. - On the other 
 
 hand,
 
 Origin ofCi vi L POWER. 
 
 hand, it is their Duty to defend and re- 
 ward the Good and Vertuous, who reve- 
 rence and honour their fupream Lord, are 
 well affected to his Government, and ex- 
 prefs a fmcere and warm Zeal for his 
 Service. 
 
 AND this is no more than they them- 
 felves expect from thofe of their Subjects, 
 on whom they confer Ports of Power and 
 Dignity, and whom they intruft with the 
 Adminifr. ration of Publick Affairs. And 
 when Princes act in this manner, and 
 thereby promote the Felicity and Good of 
 their Subjects, as well as their own, they 
 act in Conformity to the Dictates of Rea- 
 fon, or the Law of Nature. 
 
 BUT more particularly it will hence 
 appear, that Princes and Potentates are ob- 
 lig'd to take care that their Subjects Qiould 
 adore and worfhip the Divine Soveraign 
 in publick AfTemblies ; that they fhould re- 
 ftrain and puniih thofe that profane his 
 Name by impious Swearing and detefta- 
 ble Execrations ; that expofe facred Things 
 and Pcrfons by raillery and ridicule, and 
 by their vicious and profligate Manners 
 difhonour God, and teach others to do the 
 fame. What would earthly Potentates think 
 of their immediate Minifters and Officers 
 Ff 4 of
 
 ESSAY upon the 
 
 of State, if they certainly knew that thefe 
 Men did conftantly hear their Royal Per- 
 fons revil'd, their Actions expos'd, their 
 Title to their Crowns queftion'd, and their 
 Government affronted, while they patiently 
 conniv'd atfuch enormous Offences? And is 
 it not as unnatural and misbecoming the 
 immediate Servants and Vicegerents of 
 the fupream Being, to fuffer thofe Perfqns 
 to efcape with Impunity, who by their dif<- 
 folute and flagitious Lives, offend againft 
 his Laws with Contumacy and Inference, 
 defy his Juftice, and by propagating impi- 
 ous Opinions and loofe Manners, declare 
 themfelves Traytors to Heaven and Haters 
 of the Divine Government, 
 
 IT is further evident that Princes are 
 oblig'd to reft rain and punifh fuch licen- 
 tious Criminals, becaufe nothing more ad- 
 vances the common Good, and promotes 
 the End of entring into Societies ; for as 
 Impiety and Profanenefs deform the Mind, 
 efface the Similitude of the Divine Na- 
 ture, and fo deftroy the Perfection of our 
 Faculties; fo Vice and Luxury not only 
 bring Difeafes on Mens Bodies, but impove- 
 rifh and ruin their Families: And befides 
 their prevailing Power to bring down 
 Judgments upon a People, they have a 
 natural Tendency to deftroy the firmeft 
 
 Con-
 
 Origin 0/Ci vi i, POWER. 441 
 
 Conftitutions that the Wifdom of Man can 
 invent. 
 
 IT is to be remark'd, that fincetheOb- 
 fervance of Vows, Promifes and Contra&s 
 are abfolutely necefTary for the Prefer va- 
 tion of Societies ; that when a Potentate 
 has confented to any Limitations and Re- 
 ilraints in the Exercife of his Civil Power, 
 and has bound himfelf by Covenants and 
 Compacts with the People, to govern them 
 according to the Fundamental Laws of the 
 Conflitution, he cannot without tranfgref- 
 fing the Law of Nature, exceed thofe Li- 
 mitations and Boundaries of his Power ; 
 and it will be Illegal and Tyrannical in 
 fuch a Potentate to exercife a Jurifdiftion 
 of an unlimited Extent, and to make any 
 Encroachments on the Rights and Privi- 
 leges of the People, which are fecur'd by 
 fuch Original and Fundamental Contracts ; 
 tho the Cafe is different where the Sub- 
 jects have confented and fubmitted to an 
 arbitrary and unlimited Monarchy. 
 
 Of OBEDIENCE rf# from Subjefls. 
 
 '~T* H E Law of Nature that obliges Men 
 
 *- to form Communities, and confent 
 
 to fome one Species of Government for 
 
 the cpromon Good and Felicity of the 
 
 Whole,
 
 A n ESSAY ufon the 
 Whole, miift likewife lay the Subjefts un- 
 der a Moral Obligation to obferve the 
 Laws of their Magiftrates, whether the 
 Civil Power be lodg'd in the Hands of 
 one or more Perfons. For fince their mu- 
 tual Safety and Happinefs are promoted by 
 Civil Government, it is for that Reafon 
 art evident Law of Nature, that as Sub- 
 jects they fhbuld pay Obedience to it, with- 
 out which no Community can be fupport- 
 ed : They are therefore for their own 
 fakes, and for the general Good, oblig'd 
 to reverence- and honour the fupream Ma- 
 giftrate ; to maintain the Efteem and Cre- 
 dit of his Adminiftration ; to yield a chear- 
 ful SubmirBon to the Laws, and prevent 
 and fupprefs all publick Difturbance and 
 feditious Attempts. 
 -r/m bijr. ijqigi}] :>rh r :- air:.;/i u:cytvii x l 
 
 I T is tme indeed, if the Orders and In- 
 junlions of God's Vice-gerents are contrary 
 to the Laws of the fupream Ruler of the 
 World, it is plain in that Cafe the Divine 
 Being who is the chief Magistrate muft 
 be obey'd, and not his under Officers ; for 
 it ^cannot be imagined that he has intrufted 
 any of his Delegates with a Commiffion 
 to aft againft himfelf, and oblige his 
 Subjects to break his eftablifli'd Ordi- 
 nances, any more than it can be fuppos'd 
 that the Civil Magiftrate has warranted 
 
 any
 
 Origin of CIVIL POWER. 443 
 
 any inferior Officer in the State to com- 
 pel the People to tranfgrefs the declar'd 
 Laws of their Country : And therefore 
 fhould the Prince enjoin any Thing con- 
 trary to the Divine Precepts, he manifeftly 
 exceeds the Bounds of his deputed Power, 
 and ufurps an Authority to which he has 
 not the leaft claim ; and for this Reafon 
 it is an evident Dictate of natural Light, 
 that the Subject has an undoubted Right 
 to exercife a Judgment of private Difcre- 
 tion: When he receives the Commands 
 of the Magiftrate, it is his Duty to confi- 
 der, whether they contradict any previ- 
 ous Command of the fupream Ruler, be- 
 caufe he is as much obhg'd not to yield 
 Obedience to Commands which are con- 
 trary to thofe of the Divine Being, as he 
 is to fubmit to them, if the Matter of 
 them is not forbidden by Him : And fince 
 the Subject is not bound to obey without 
 Referve, but on the contrary, muft in 
 fome Cafes refufe Obedience ; how is it 
 poflible that this can be done if he is not 
 allow'd to reflect, examine, and judge 
 whether the Injunctions of the Magiftrate 
 are repugnant or agreeable to the Divine 
 Laws? If an inferior Officer in any hu- 
 man Government, fhould ifTue out Orders 
 to thofe under his Jurifdiction, that con- 
 tradict the known Statutes of the Land ; 
 
 muft
 
 444 dn ESSAY upon the 
 muft not the Subject refufe Obedience ? 
 If fo, he muft be allow'd a Judgment of 
 Difcretion to weigh, compare, and deter- 
 mine whether they are oppofite or fuit- 
 able to the eftablifh'd Laws of the Chief 
 Magiftrate. 
 
 IN like manner if a Potentate, who is 
 a dependent and fubordinate Officer in the 
 Monarchy of the World, in which the 
 Divine Being is fupream, fhould enjoyn 
 any Thing forbidden, or forbid any Thing 
 enjoyn'd by the Soveraign of Mankind, 
 are not the Subjects oblig'd to difobey ? 
 And if they are, muft they not exercife 
 their private Reafon in the Cafe, and con- 
 fider whether the Commands of Potentates 
 oppofe any Divine antecedent Precept ? It 
 is therefore a natural Dictate of Reafon, 
 or a Moral Law, that Subjects fhould de- 
 liberate and judge whether the Commands 
 of their Rulers are conformable to the 
 Divine Ordinances, that is, whether the 
 Magiftrate exercifes his Legiflative Power 
 about fuch A&ions as are not already fet- 
 tled and determin'd by Divine Precepts or 
 Prohibitions. 
 
 IF the Queftion fhould be ask'd, whe- 
 ther in thofe Things where we are left at 
 Liberty by the fupream Governor, that is, 
 
 where
 
 Origin 0/ CIVIL POWER. 445 
 where we are not reftrain'd by any Divine 
 Prohibition or Command, the Civil Ma- 
 giftrate has Power to oblige his Subjects 
 to Obedience ? I anfwer, that the Magi- 
 ftrate in Things indifferent and lindeter- 
 min'd by any particular pofitive Law of 
 God, is by the general Law of Nature 
 confin'd and bound to command nothing 
 but what is conducive to the Ends of Go- 
 vernment. The merciful and indulgent 
 Lawgiver of Mankind cannot be fuppos'd 
 to have conftituted Vice-roys and Deputies 
 to rule any particular Provinces or Cities 
 within his Dominions, for other Purpofei 
 than to carry on his Defign in Creation, 
 which is his own Honour and the Feli- 
 city of his Subjects ; and all human Sub- 
 altern Officers under the fupream Mode- 
 rator of the Unlverfe, are obliged to make 
 fuch Laws only as are conducive to this 
 End ; they are bound to deliberate and 
 chufe out of a great Variety the fitteft 
 Means for the Ends of Government, and 
 their Duty is to rejeft what is infignifi- 
 cant, and much more what is inconveni- 
 ent or hurtful. When the Rulers have 
 found out what is ufeful and proper to be 
 the Matter of a Law, the general Precept 
 of Nature becomes particular, and obliges 
 them to enaft it by their Authority, as 
 much as if it had been exprefly com- 
 * manded.
 
 446 ^n ESSAY upon the 
 manded. But if from Error of Judgment, 
 Negligence, or an ill Principle, they iflue 
 forth fuch Commands as are ufelefs or 
 prejudicial, and much more if deftru&ive 
 of the Ends of Civil Society, it is im- 
 poflible that thefe Commands, which ex- 
 ceed the Bounds of their Commiflion, 
 fhould operate by any binding Virtue. 
 They are indeed the Commands of a pub- 
 Ikk Magiftrate, but one acling without 
 Warrant and beyond his delegated Power ; 
 and fo not being enliven'd and inform'd 
 by legal Authority, they have no more 
 force of themfelves than the Precepts of 
 private Perfons : And were there no other 
 Law of Nature fupervening to determine 
 the Subject to fubmit, he is, as to the il- 
 legal Orders of the Magiftrate, at his Li- 
 berty to obey or refufe Obedience; for 
 where there is no Authority to command, 
 no Obedience can be due* But where the 
 Magiftrate fhall enjoin Things only imper- 
 tinent or hurtful, but not in a degree that 
 threatens Ruin to the Conftitution, then 
 the Law of Reafon that directs us to pre- 
 ferve Peace and Union in Civil Societies, 
 and to bear a lefs SufFering for the pre- 
 venting of a greater, and always to decline 
 that which will bring more Evil than 
 Good, will oblige us to SubmilTion. 
 
 'THE
 
 Origin*?/ CIVIL POWER. 247 
 
 THE Subject therefore for the publick 
 Good and Tranquility muft bear Hardfhips 
 with Patience, and acquiefce in Male-Ad- 
 miniftration, unlefs the Constitution of the 
 Community, and the univerfal Welfare of 
 the People are expos'd to apparent Danger. 
 But in Cafe the Civil Magiftrate fhall, ia. 
 a notorious degree, violate his folemn Com- 
 pact, by which he confented to be re- 
 ftrain'd and limited in the Execution of 
 his Power ; if he breaks in upon the Rights 
 and Liberties of the People by violent 
 Encroachments, and fhakes the eflential 
 Foundations of the State, the Subject: then 
 is no longer oblig'd to fubmit, becaufe now 
 his Patience and Compliance will be more 
 hurtful than beneficial, and will evidently 
 contribute to the Deftruftion ot the Com- 
 munity, which he is bound to preferve and 
 not betray. And even in Abfolute and 
 Defpotick Monarchies, tho the Soveraign 
 is not reftrain'd or check'd by any Con- 
 tract or Stipulation with the People, yec 
 is he under the Limitations prefcrib'd by 
 the Law of Nature, which are altogether 
 as obligatory, not to exercife his Autho- 
 rity for the Detriment and Ruin, but for 
 the Good and Benefit of the Society. And 
 where his Commands apparently contra- 
 dict the Ends of Government, and fo are 
 * repug-
 
 448 An ESSAY uftm Civil Power, 
 repugnant to the Diftates of Reafon and 
 the natural Law of God, they are only 
 Commands, that is> they have only the 
 Matter, but wanting Authority, they hav 
 not the eflential Form that conftitutes a 
 Law. And therefore the moft zealous and 
 ableft Defenders of Monarchical Govern- 
 ment (Grotius, Bar clay y &c.) readily con- 
 cede thus much, That it is lawful to dif- 
 obey Princes, when they rage againft their 
 Subjects and deftroy them with Violence 
 and barbarous Cruelty ; and if in fuch 
 Cafes Potentates meet with Refiftance from 
 their Subjects, thofe Subjects are juftify'd 
 to make fuch Oppofition by their Right of 
 Self-Defence and mutual Prefervation, efta- 
 blifli'd and fupported by the Law of Na- 
 ture. 
 
 FINIS.
 
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